Here Comes the Trouble! (9781101620861)

by Stern, A. j. ; Marts, Doreen Mulryan (ILT)

  “When can you start?”

  “Right now!” I answered.

  “Great,” he said, unzipping his backpack and pulling out a piece of loose-leaf paper and a pen. It turns out that being a wedding planner is not as easy as it looks. There is a lot of work to do.

  “Let’s write down everything that happens at a wedding,” Elliott said.

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  Since neither of us had ever been to a wedding, we were both a little stumpified.

  “There is a dress,” I said, writing it down.

  “There’s a ring,” Elliott said. “And a cake.”

  “People make speeches,” I said.

  “A band plays,” Elliott said.

  “People are in the wedding, up in the front,” I said, writing that down, too.

  Our friend Elizabeth came over and sat down.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Planning a wedding,” I said.

  “Oh, I just love weddings!” she said. “My favorite is the vows part.”

  Elliott and I looked at each other, and I wrote down the word vows.

  “Is this for your mom’s wedding?” Elizabeth asked.

  Elliott nodded.

  “Did she have a bridal shower?” Elizabeth asked Elliott.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I suppose so.” He looked at me for the answer, but I had no idea what the answer was because I had no idea what she was talking about. What made a shower a bridal shower and not just a regular shower?

  Elizabeth asked questions about the ring and the dress and the honeymoon. I wrote down honeymoon.

  I did not know there was so much to a wedding. I was writing down words as fastly as I could to keep up with Elizabeth. I tried to close my brain off so Elliott couldn’t read my brain. I did not want him to read how worrified I was getting. But I don’t think I closed it fastly enough, because when I looked up, he was staring at me with eyeballs that said “I just read every last one of your brain notes.”

  It is not an opinion that being the best at everything IS harder than it looks.

  Elliott and I were not expecting our moms to pick us up again, so we were surprisified to see them waiting outside after school.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “We’re going to the wedding planner’s office and thought you’d like to come with us.”

  Elliott and I looked at each other, and our eyeballs almost fell out of our heads at the exact same time!

  “WEDDING PLANNER!?” I shoutified. That’s when I got a bad day feeling on my skin. If Julie already had a wedding planner, then I couldn’t be the wedding planner! There can’t be two of everything!

  “Yes. Isn’t that exciting?” my mom asked.

  “I suppose so,” I said, slunking into the car. I was not excitified for someone else to do my job.

  “I thought you would be more excited than that!” my mom said. “They have offices!”

  I had to smile at that part. I love jobs that have offices.

  “I didn’t know that wedding planners had offices,” I said.

  “They do. Susan’s is very big, too,” Julie told us.

  The disappointment puddle at my feet dried up at that news. After all, offices made me very happy, so I was starting to feel a little bit better!

  Susan’s office was right outside of Chester. You will not even believe your ears about how big her office was. And you will also not believe your ears about how many assistants Susan had! She had twentyteen assistants! And everyone, even Susan, carried a clipboard! I love clipboards! I love offices that have twentyteen assistants who all carry clipboards! Being a wedding planner was the best job in the world.

  The office also had corkboards all over the walls. There were magazine cutouts of dresses, flowers, barns, candles, invitations, rings—everything you can possibly imagine was pinned to it. There were the hugest binders I’ve ever seen piled on desktops and a machillion pieces of fabric all over the place. I wanted to work in this office very badly.

  Susan knew where every single thing was. A for instance of what I mean is that when Julie brought up candles, Susan pulled out the exact right book, opened it to the exact right page, and pointed to the exact right candles that Julie wanted. There were a lot of little sticky notes everywhere, and that’s how I knew that Susan’s books were really important. If you want to know if something is important, you should always look for a sticky note. I needed to get sticky notes. I needed to get a clipboard. Clipboards and sticky notes. Clipboards and sticky notes.

  I am always very interested to know whether someone is good or bad at her job. This is a very important thing to notice. If you don’t notice, then you might hire someone who is very bad at her job when you didn’t mean to do that. I went and stood near one of the assistants to see whether she was good or bad. She looked like someone I might like to hire someday. She was talking on the phone.

  “We’ll have a plan B,” the assistant said. “Yes, a tent if it rains and two sets of vows. We always have a plan B, a backup plan, in case our first plan falls through.”

  That is when I knew this was a very good assistant. Never in my worldwide life did I know there was such a thing as a plan B. That is what the assistant taught me. I learned about a plan B, which is a for instance of something I did not know only four seconds ago in the past. I could not wait until this assistant worked for me.

  And that’s when I realized that there could be two wedding planners, however and nevertheless. Susan, the plan A wedding planner, was helping Julie, and I would be the plan B wedding planner who helped Elliott! It was geniusal.

  When we got home, I went to my room to start building my wedding planning office. I looked around and thought about what I should do first. That’s when I knew! I ran down the hall and asked my dad if he had a clipboard. He did indeed and certainly. He gave it to me and I ran back to my wedding planning office. Now I needed to clomp the clipboard with wedding business. Clipboards should never be empty. That is a scientific fact and also the law. Since I didn’t have anything to clomp down on, I ran back down the hall to my parents’ room.

  “Do we have any magazines that I can cut up?” I asked my mom.

  She pointed to the pile on the floor next to her desk. “You can have all of those,” she said.

  “Thanks!” I said and picked up the whole bunch.

  In my office, I cut out the pictures that looked weddingish and filled my clipboard. Next, I needed to pin weddingish things onto my corkboard. But I didn’t have any weddingish things like that. I ran all through my house to see if there was any little scrap of fabric I could use. I found a paper napkin, which I decided was very good. I tacked that to my board. I sat back and looked at my beautiful wedding planning office. The only thing it needed was assistants. My office wasn’t big enough for twentyteen assistants. That’s why I decided I’d hire just one assistant for now. I was going to hire Elliott. I called him, so he would know about his new job.

  “Elliott?” I asked when he picked up the phone.

  “Hi, Frannie,” he said.

  “Tomorrow at lunch, can you have a meeting with me?”

  “Sure,” he said, excitified. “About what?”

  “You’re going to be my plan B wedding assistant!” I told him.

  “Oh wow! But I’m already best man. I don’t think I can have two jobs!”

  “Yes, you can. The job is all about helping you be the best at being the best man. Don’t worry. I’ll explain everything. But don’t schedule any other meetings for lunch tomorrow, okay?”

  “I won’t,” he said. Then added, “I promise.”

  When we hung up, I was smiling all the way from one side of my town to the other. That’s how much I could not wait to get to work as a plan B wedding planner.


  At dinner that night, I asked my parents what the best man did at a wedding. I listened very carefully to the answer because I didn’t have paper or a pencil. What they said exactly was a lot. So much, my face almost plopped down into my vegetable soup.

  “Well, at a traditional wedding, which Julie and George are not having,” my mom started, “the best man has to make sure the groom has the marriage license.”

  “A license?” I asked.

  “That’s right,” my dad said. “You need a license to get married.”

  “I did not know about that fact,” I told them.

  “Sometimes a best man helps the groom pack for his honeymoon and dress for the ceremony,” my mom said.

  “The best man also has to make sure the rings are safe and secure. He has to keep track of the vows. He has to keep track of everything, actually. He’s almost like the groom’s assistant,” my dad told me.

  I nodded my head at this.

  “Sometimes a best man arranges for all the travel and the honeymoon. He makes the reservations, gets the tickets, buys traveler’s checks,” he continued.

  “At the actual wedding, he makes sure that no one is dillydallying around,” my mom told me. “And, he makes the first toast at the rehearsal dinner and at the wedding. He introduces people to one another so they all feel welcome.”

  “He also has to sign the marriage certificate,” my dad added.

  “Now, the maid of honor . . . ,” my mom started, but I could not even remember what she said because my brain was about to explode itself into bits from all that information. That was too many jobs for anyone to do. I was starting to realize Elliott really needed a lot more help than I thought.

  Before I went to bed that night, I cut up a tissue box to make brand-new business cards.

  MRS. FRANKLY B. MILLER

  PLAN B WEDDING PLANNER

  CEO and DR

  The next day, after twelveteen years of morning classes, it was finally lunchtime. Elliott and I ran downstairs to find a good meeting table. We sat down at four different ones until we found the exact right table for a business meeting. We left our backpacks on the table so no one would steal our spot. We got our lunch, came back with our trays of tacos, and got right down to work.

  “Good afternoon, and welcome to this meeting,” I announced to just Elliott. I reached into my back pocket and handed him my new business card. He studied it for a long time, which was something I appreciated.

  “Thank you. Good afternoon,” he said back, taking a big bite of his taco.

  “Today is the meeting about best men and plan B wedding planners. You are already the best man. Now you will also be the assistant to the president of plan B wedding planners, Mrs. Frankly B. Miller,” I told him.

  He nodded, because his mouth was full.

  “It is a scientific fact that I found out what a best man does, exactly. I will tell you that very soonly. But first, does everyone here know what a plan B is?” I asked him, knowing he did, but really wanting to explain it, anyway.

  He nodded his head. His mouth was still full.

  “What a plan B is, exactly, is when things go wrong and you have to do something else instead. The something else instead is a plan,” I told him, even though he already knew about this fact.

  Elliott nodded again. His mouth wasn’t still full, he just really likes nodding.

  “What we need now exactly is a plan B for this wedding. Everyone will get a plan B type of job,” I told him.

  “But I already have a plan A job,” Elliott said.

  “I know that, but you need to have a plan B job in case everything in your plan A job goes wrong,” I said. “The most important thing is the license.”

  “The license?” Elliott asked.

  “Yes, the best man has to learn how to drive because he needs a license or else the man and woman can’t get married.”

  “But I’m not old enough to get a license!” he shouted.

  “I know. I am worried about that, too,” I told him.

  That’s when we both scrunched up our faces to think about a plan B about the license.

  “Okay, we’ll come back to the license. Let’s talk about what you’ll do if you lose the rings,” I said.

  That is when Elliott’s face almost fell off.

  “The rings?! What do I have to do with the rings?”

  “You are the best man, Elliott. You are in charge of the best things! Everyone in the worldwide of America knows that wedding rings are one of the best things of a wedding.”

  “But I don’t have the rings. George has them,” Elliott told me, starting to scrunch up his hands in worry.

  “Well, you have to get them because the rings are your job as best man.”

  “Okay,” Elliott said. “I’ll try and get them.”

  “Okay. Next we have to talk about the weather,” I told him.

  “The weather?”

  “Yes. The wedding is outside, so you have to make sure it doesn’t rain,” I explained.

  That is when Elliott stood up. “How in the world will I ever do that?” he nearly shouted.

  I shrugged. “But you better figure it out because you’re the best man. You’re in charge of the weather. I’ll try and find a lot of umbrellas,” I said, writing that down. “Now, the honeymoon . . .”

  “The honeymoon?” Elliott nearly fell over.

  “Yes, you have to get them a honeymoon,” I told him.

  “I don’t really even know what that is!” he cried.

  I shrugged again. “Also, a speech and the vows.”

  “What about them?”

  “You have to make them and write them.”

  “ALL of them?” he asked.

  I nodded, taking a bite of my taco. When I chewed and swallowed I said, “Don’t worry, Elliott. None of it is as hard as it sounds.” Then I added, “Probably,” because I was not sure that was a scientific fact.

  After school, Elliott came over because we had a lot of work to do. We had to write the vows, just in case George and Julie forgot to do it themselves. These were our plan B vows, and they were going to be fantastical.

  I knew a lot about vows because I once read a wedding announcement in the newspaper, and it mentioned vows in the article. Plus, I’ve seen some movies where people get married, and I know about the things they say. We brought my dog, Winston Churchill, with us and sat in my wedding planning office. I pulled out a legal pad. It’s a legal pad because it’s for lawyers.

  Elliott and I stared at each other, stumpified.

  “How does it go again?” Elliott asked me.

  “I know it starts with the name. Like, ‘I, Julie Stephenson, take you—’” and that’s when I remembered all of it. I rushed it out fastly before I forgot it or Elliott could interrupt me.

  JULIE’S VOWS TO GEORGE:

  I, Julie Stephenson, take you, George Johnson, to be my awful wedding husband on this day forward for now and for worse, for Richard and the pourer, until death tears us into parts. I promise to love and to weigh you, whether you like it or not. You may now forever hold your peach. Almond.

  GEORGE’S VOWS TO JULIE:

  I, George Johnson, agree with you, Julie Stephenson, and take you to be my awful wedding wife on this day forward, for now and for worse, for Richard and the pourer, until death tears us into parts. I promise to love and to weigh you, whether you like it or not. You may now forever hold your peach. Almond.

  Even though they were the only vows I’d ever read, I thought they were really spectacularish. Elliott agreed and felt very relieviated that that part was over.

  “I think we should practice the wedding now,” he said.

  “That’s a good idea,” I told him.

  “Because if anything goes wro
ng right now, we’ll be able to fix it before it really happens!” he said.

  I thought this was very geniusal.

  “I don’t want to put on the flower girl dress, though. Can Winston Churchill wear it and play my part?”

  Elliott shrugged, which meant “I don’t see why not.”

  I went to my closet and pulled the dress down off its hanger. It is very hard to put a dress on a dog, just in case you don’t already know this. First, you have to put it over its head, which it does not like even for one second. Once you have that done, you have to lift each paw and put it through the sleeves, which it does not like, either. Then you are done! Once Winston Churchill had the dress on, we told him to walk down the aisle. But, instead of doing that, he raced out of my bedroom!

  “OH NO!” I yelled. “Winston Churchill, come back!” Elliott and I raced after him. My mom popped her head out of her bedroom.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “Nothing!” I yelled as I raced down the stairs and Elliott followed.

  I heard the screen door slam shut, and Elliott and I stopped in our tracks to look at each other with “this is a very bad situation” eyeballs. When we got outside, I gaspified. Winston Churchill, in my dress, was splashing around in a big mud puddle. Elliott and I raced to the puddle to pull him out. We dragged Winston Churchill to the screen door, which my mom was holding open for us. She had a very angrified look on her face, which gave me a very bad day feeling on my skin.

  “Is Elliott in trouble, too?” I asked. “Or just me?”

  “Just you,” my mom said.

  That is when my mom taught me how to do laundry all by myself. Apparently and nevertheless, I am very good at it because when the dress dried, it didn’t look like anything bad had happened to it at all! It did shrink a little bit, but that was okay because it was too long to begin with. By the time Elliott’s mom came to get him, I felt like we had gotten a lot done. We wrote the vows, and I learned how to do laundry. I also got in trouble, but that is a different story.