Wedding Drama
Page 3
Deja isn’t finished when Ms. Shelby tells them to put their journals away and get out their Sustained Silent Reading books while she takes attendance. But Deja does what she says. Then Ms. Shelby proclaims, “I need the office monitor to take the attendance and lunch count to the office.” Deja looks up to see Nikki with the special folder. Maybe she’ll see Ms. Shelby’s fiancé again. Nikki has all the luck.
4
The Wedding Planners Club
Nikki
Rosario has started a club. It’s called the Wedding Planners Club. At recess she explains that there is really such a thing as a wedding planner. It’s a real job. In fact, she’s probably going to be a wedding planner when she grows up.
“Me, too,” Ayanna says. “That’s what I’m going to be when I grow up.”
“Me, too,” ChiChi says, and soon nearly everyone has decided that they are going to be wedding planners as well. Rosario decides that those who want to be in the club have to plan Ms. Shelby’s wedding—everything about it. She looks around to see if this discourages anyone. But Ayanna seconds the idea, and everyone’s attention is completely focused on Rosario as she spells out what they’ll be doing: designing the dresses for Ms. Shelby and her bridesmaids, planning the menu, choosing the decorations (flower arrangements and silverware settings and stuff that goes on the tables), writing the invitations, and more.
“This way,” Rosario explains, “it’ll be like we get to go to the wedding, too.”
“I’m doing another cake,” Keisha says. “A better one.”
There’s a chorus of “Me, too.”
“We should have a wedding planner contest,” Rosario says. “We should break into teams and plan Ms. Shelby’s wedding with pictures and stuff. Then we can get some girls from the other third grades to vote for the best one. On Friday. That gives us two days.” Rosario looks around as all the girls enthusiastically nod their heads.
For the rest of the day—during math, during social studies, during language arts, and even during P.E.—Nikki hears the words flowers, menu, and color scheme whispered. She even hears the word registry. Nikki has told the girls all about the registry, launching fresh excitement. Nikki thinks that’s the part about weddings and wedding planning they all must like the best: picking out the stuff they would want people to give them. Several times when the class is supposed to be studying multiplication facts for the quiz on Friday, Ms. Shelby has to remind them that this quiet time is study time. She shouldn’t hear any talking.
During SSR, Nikki passes a note to Deja just as Ms. Shelby turns from the board to look over the class. Deja quickly stuffs the note in her desk. As Ms. Shelby flips through her giant teacher’s edition for more problems to write on the board, Deja carefully brings out the note and reads it quickly. Nikki has written:
When I get home I’m going to look in my mother’s catalogs for some really good presents.
When Deja looks over at her, she seems miserable. Nikki instantly feels guilty. She’d forgotten all about Deja’s very bad news. She hopes Deja doesn’t think that she doesn’t care. Because she does—when she remembers to.
Ms. Shelby gives those who have finished all their work—and those whose cards are still green (the good color on the behavior chart)—ten minutes of free time at the end of the day. They can spend it on a class project or at the jigsaw puzzle table or reading. Rosario must have met all the criteria because at 2:50 exactly, she says, “Ms. Shelby, ChiChi, Keisha, and me have all our work done and our cards are still green. Can we work on this special project we have?”
Ms. Shelby is sitting at the kidney-shaped table with some kids who are having a hard time with two-place multipliers. She looks up. “Okay, but make sure you use your indoor voices,” she says, sounding distracted.
ChiChi, Keisha, and Rosario hurry to the class conference table, which is long and rectangular and is located next to the class library, in the corner. Nikki glances over at them. She’s bubbling with excitement. She doesn’t want to be left out. She starts to work really fast on her math problems, hoping she isn’t making a lot of careless mistakes. Ms. Shelby says it’s easy to make careless mistakes in math if you rush. She glances over to see Deja looking like she’s taking her time.
At last, Nikki finishes her work and jumps up from her chair to march her math paper to Ms. Shelby’s in-basket. As soon as she returns to her seat, her hand flies up. She doesn’t even wait to be recognized. She just blurts out, “Ms. Shelby, can I have free time, too? My color’s still green and I finished all my work.”
Ms. Shelby sighs. She’s probably getting tired of all the interruptions, Nikki thinks. Over the next five minutes, Ms. Shelby is interrupted five more times as the girls in the Wedding Planners Club ask for free time to go to the class conference table.
Nikki loves the conference table. It’s their class art center, so it’s already equipped with colored pencils and markers and scissors and big sheets of construction paper in a neat stack. There are still some splatters of dry paint on it, from when the class made papier-mâché globes for social studies. Nikki loves the feeling of independence she has whenever she goes to it. It’s a busy table, even when no one is working there. Each girl approaches it with an excited look on her face.
Nikki wonders what’s taking Deja so long. Finally she sees her take her paper up to the classwork basket and then, on her way back to her desk, stop by the kidney-shaped table to ask quietly if she can join the other girls. Ms. Shelby nods without looking up from helping Ralph.
Lost cause, Nikki thinks, glancing back at Ralph.
Rosario has decided that they should form their teams now. As soon as she gets the words out of her mouth, nearly everyone at the table starts whispering frantically about who they want on their team.
“We have to do it organized,” Rosario says.
“But there’s only seven of us,” ChiChi observes.
Then a startling thing happens. Antonia, Deja’s nemesis, puts her math paper in the in-basket, gets Ms. Shelby’s permission, and saunters over to the conference table. She takes a seat and folds her hands as if she’s waiting for something. “I’d like to be a wedding planner, too,” she says calmly.
Everyone looks at one another. Then Rosario speaks up. “Okay.”
“Good. Now we have an even number,” ChiChi adds.
Rosario empties the marker box and says, “Let’s write our names on pieces of paper, fold them up real good, and I’ll pick out two names for team captains. And then they get to pick who they want on their team.”
Rosario looks over her shoulder at Ms. Shelby, takes a piece of construction paper, and folds it in half three times. She tears it along the folds and hands everyone a piece.
Each girl writes her name on her paper, folds it up carefully, and drops it into the empty marker box. Rosario, continuing to run the show, pulls out the first piece. “Keisha,” she says as soon as she unfolds it. She pulls out a second paper. “Antonia,” she says. Nikki sees Deja frown. It’s been a while since Deja and Antonia have clashed. It’s almost as if they’ve called a truce.
“I should go first because my name begins with an A,” Antonia says quietly.
Rosario agrees. “Okay, choose.”
“Nikki,” Antonia says.
Nikki can’t believe her ears. “Me?” she asks.
“Yes, you,” Antonia says.
Nikki looks at Deja, but Deja just gives her a little shrug. Nikki frowns. Why is Deja acting like that? she wonders.
Once the teams are made—Antonia, Nikki, ChiChi, and Ayanna on one team, and Keisha, Deja, Rosario, and Yolanda on the other—they decide to name them.
“We’re going to call our team the Pink Roses,” Antonia says.
“I don’t want Pink Roses,” Nikki objects. “I want Red Roses.”
“Raise your hand if you want Red Roses,” Antonia says. The hands of all her teammates go up. Antonia rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “Okay, we’re the Red Roses.”
“I want
the Purple Lilacs,” Deja says quickly.
“I want yellow lilacs,” Keisha insists.
“Hah, hah, hah. There’s no such thing,” Deja says with certainty.
Nikki wonders if there are yellow lilacs.
“Orange, then.”
“There’s no orange lilacs, either,” Deja proclaims, and then adds quickly, “All those for Purple Lilacs, raise your hand.”
Slowly, everyone on the team raises her hand.
So it is the Purple Lilacs against the Red Roses.
Rosario has something more to say. “Let’s do four things: wedding and bridesmaid dresses—and no tracing from a book; wedding menu—and it has to be from real recipes, like from real cookbooks; decorations like the tables and that altar thing; and the invitation—on really nice paper, not on notebook paper.” She looks around.
“What about the registry?” whines Yolanda.
“No. We don’t have time for all that,” Rosario says. “How many want to do a registry?” she adds, probably to seem fair.
Three hands go up: Keisha, ChiChi, and Yolanda.
“No registry,” Rosario says.
Then Nikki, ChiChi, Ayanna, and... Antonia scoot their chairs down to the end of the rectangular table and put their heads together. Nikki wonders how Deja feels, seeing Nikki putting her head together with Antonia’s. One thing’s for sure: Deja is probably going to try to take over organizing her group.
Antonia says, “I think we should divide everything up—the jobs and stuff.”
“I want to do the dress. Something better than that stuff we already did before we were competing against each other,” ChiChi says.
“I want to do the decorating,” Antonia says quickly, before anyone else can claim the task. “That’s the flowers and the tables and all that stuff. And party favors,” she adds.
“I don’t know if weddings have party favors,” Nikki says.
“I think this wedding should. People like to take stuff home,” Antonia insists, and no one challenges her.
“My aunt took the centerpiece home from her friend’s wedding,” ChiChi says.
Everyone looks at ChiChi with interest.
“I want to do the menu,” Nikki jumps in, before someone else claims it. She’d just overheard Deja stating to her team that she wanted to do the menu. It will be fun for them both to do it.
“Then I guess I’m doing the wedding invitation,” Ayanna says.
On the way home, Nikki is lost in thought about the menu. Deja doesn’t have much to say, either. Then Nikki remembers Saturday and how that’s the day she’ll get to go shopping. She already knows that she wants to get a dress in peach or lavender. She just needs to decide which color. She poses this dilemma to Deja.
“I know you’ll probably say I shouldn’t get the lavender one, since that’s your favorite color, but what I want to do is try them both on—that is, if they’re in my size—and see which one looks better on me.” She stops for a breath then asks, “What do you think, Deja?”
“Fine,” Deja says.
It doesn’t sound very fine to Nikki, though. She looks over at Deja. “But what do you think?”
“Whichever one looks the best,” Deja says quietly.
“Yeah, that’s what I think,” Nikki agrees. She sneaks a look at Deja again. Deja looks sad, and for a few seconds Nikki feels guilty about her own excitement.
There’s a moment of silence, then Nikki pipes up with, “Ooh, Deja, ask your auntie if you can come with us on Saturday. It’ll be so much fun if you can come with me.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Deja says.
“Isn’t it great that we’re both doing the menu for our teams?” Nikki goes on, since Deja is being so glum and quiet. “I can’t wait. I’m going to do something different. I’ve got ideas!”
They reach Deja’s driveway, where Nikki sees Deja’s auntie’s car. She feels a little bad about Deja’s aunt, but she can’t linger on that. She’s got things to do—really important things.
Nikki starts for her own house. “See ya, Deja. Don’t forget to ask your auntie about Saturday.”
5
All Figured Out
Deja
Deja takes a deep breath before she pulls out the key on its string around her neck and unlocks the front door. She needs to tell Auntie about the wedding before she asks if she can go with Nikki on Saturday.
Auntie is in the kitchen. Deja puts her backpack on the stairs. Dragging her feet, she walks through the kitchen door.
“Hi, sweetie,” Auntie Dee says, looking up. She’s stirring something in a big mixing bowl with a wooden spoon.
“Hi, Auntie Dee.” Deja looks into the bowl, hoping for cake batter. It’s batter all right, but there’s something shredded and green in it.
“Zucchini bread,” Auntie says happily. “I found the recipe in the newspaper.”
Deja watches the spoon go around and around. “Oh,” she says.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Auntie asks. It’s as if she’s just then noticed Deja’s downturned mouth and slumped shoulders.
Deja decides to dive in. “Ms. Shelby is getting married. Saturday after next.”
Auntie Dee stops stirring and puts both palms on the counter. “Oh, my!”
“She really wanted all her students to go to the wedding, but she didn’t have enough room for everybody to come.”
“Well, of course not,” Auntie says.
“But she was able to invite two.”
Auntie Dee brightens.
“One of those persons was Nikki.”
“Wow,” Auntie says happily, then quickly adds, “Oh, honey, I hope you’re not too disappointed that it wasn’t you.”
“I got one, too,” Deja says.
Auntie’s smiling demeanor immediately returns. “Oh, Deja! How wonderful!”
“But I don’t want to go.”
Auntie Dee looks puzzled. “Why?”
Deja can’t hold back her fears any longer. “Because we’re not going to have any money. For a present from this special registry that Ms. Shelby has at Rendells or for a new dress for me, or for new shoes, or—for anything! And I’m not going to be able to get my hair done.”
Auntie moves to the table and sits down.
Deja takes the chair across from her. She feels better, for some reason. As if her auntie is just getting ready to tackle the problem.
“Listen,” Auntie Dee says, sounding certain. “We’re going to solve this thing. I know we are. You just leave it to me.”
Deja gets her backpack and pulls out the invitation. She opens it and shows Auntie one of the little cards that’s inside the envelope. “Look at this little card where you can choose what you want to eat.”
Auntie takes the invitation out of her hand. “Oh, look, you can bring a guest—which of course will be me.” She points out the place where it says “Invitee plus guest.” She smiles as if she’s got it all worked out, as if she knows just how she’ll come up with enough money for new clothes, a present, and a beauty shop visit for Deja.
Later, when Deja is doing her homework at the kitchen table, Auntie Dee calls to her from the living room. As soon as Deja appears, Auntie pats the place beside her on the couch. Deja sits down and waits.
“Now listen,” Auntie says. “I was just on the phone with Miss Ida. I told her all about you being invited to your teacher’s wedding and all about our circumstances, and guess what she said.”
Deja shrugs. Whatever is coming, she knows it’s not going to be all that great. Auntie Dee will think it’s great, but Deja knows her feelings won’t match her aunt’s.
“Come to find out, Miss Ida was a seamstress in her day. She has offered to make you a new dress.” Auntie beams as she waits for Deja’s response. Her smile is extra wide, extra encouraging.
“Oh,” Deja says. She thinks back on the time when she had to stay at Miss Ida’s; the time when Auntie Dee had to go out of town. Everything in Miss Ida’s house was old. Old curtains, old stove and refrigera
tor, an old television. It was awful staying there. At first. But then it got a little better. What kind of dress would Miss Ida come up with? Maybe something with a big bow in the back, like one of those dresses little girls wear on that show about pioneers—with big puffy sleeves.
“Auntie, I don’t want to look like a pioneer girl.”
Auntie laughs. “Don’t worry, you won’t. We’ll go to pick out the fabric and pattern on Saturday.”
That makes Deja feel only a little bit better. Then she remembers the other problems. “But what about Ms. Shelby’s present and my hair?”
“Don’t worry about the gift. I have something very special for Ms. Shelby. And believe me, she won’t be getting two of what we’re going to give her.”
“Are you going to tell me what it is?”
“Our kente cloth runner.”
Deja looks over at their dining room table. Auntie Dee has always loved the long, colorful piece of cloth that decorates it. Auntie’s best friend, Phoebe, brought it back for her all the way from Ghana, which is in West Africa. How will they be able to get another one?
“But you love that runner.”
Auntie Dee shrugs. “Don’t worry about that. Who knows? Maybe we’ll go to Africa and get another one.”
Deja thinks about that for a minute. Is she joking? Africa is so far away.
Auntie goes on, “And Phoebe is going to do your hair.”
Deja frowns, and her auntie holds up her hand. “Don’t jump the gun. She’s going to do a great job.”
But Deja doesn’t want to give Auntie’s best friend, Phoebe, a chance. She doesn’t want to give Miss Ida a chance, either. And the thought of Auntie Dee giving up her beloved kente cloth—that just makes her feel worse.
“Have I ever led you wrong?” Auntie asks with a twinkle in her eye.