by Laurence Yep
“Shopping makes me thirsty,” I said as we unpacked our purchases at home.
“And hungry,” added Winnie.
She set the table, and I spread out the treats we had chosen from the vendors at the Ferry Building Marketplace. Crackers baked in Monterey, cheeses from Marin, fruits from Sonoma, and chocolates made in the city and Burlingame were our treasures today.
I filled our tumblers with sparkling apple cider, and we toasted.
“To adventures past,” I said with pride.
“And adventures yet to come,” Winnie continued.
“May they be merry and a little less hazardous,” I added.
We enjoyed our feast until it was time for Winnie to leave.
“See you tomorrow,” she called.
“Yes, my pet,” I said after she was gone. Then I refilled my glass and toasted one last time, wishing, “To new friends and a new school year too.”
Before I went to bed, I was determined to finish tidying up. There were dishes to wash and dry and that troublesome sketchbook to put away. I flipped through the pages one last time, and to my surprise, there was one grand sketch spreading across the center pages. Clever girl, she knew I wouldn’t miss it.
“Oh, Winnie!” I said. “Good job!” I smiled at the drawing she had done for me to see and to keep. Then I shut the book and tucked it between Shakespeare and Plato. But the scene stayed in my mind until I drifted off to sleep.
It was my room, complete with rug, sofa, and music box, where two friends, both wearing colorful tiaras, were playing a game of checkers and drinking tea. Underneath, in bold and fancy letters, Winnie had carefully printed:
Miss Drake and ME
