by Belle Payton
“Hey, y’all!” said Lindsey brightly. She was wearing black-and-white stripes from head to toe—a matching T-shirt and cropped pants—and orange flats. Even Ava, who thought dressing for Spirit Week was kind of dumb, had to concede she looked stunning.
“So, Alex! What’s this I hear about a certain guy of yours?” Her tone was warm and genuine.
“What?” asked Alex, totally confused.
Ava gave her a subtle elbow jab in the ribs.
“Ow! Oh!” Alex clearly remembered, and tried to recover. “Oh, yeah.” She feigned a giggle. “Yeah, good old Charlie.”
“Can’t wait to hear about him!” said Lindsey.
The bell rang, and Lindsey skipped off down the hallway.
“Be sure you come sit with us at the game Friday, okay?” she said over her shoulder.
“Fabulous!” squeaked Alex.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Disaster struck Thursday afternoon, a hot and sultry day, as the twins were walking toward Le Pain to make the final preparations for the surprise anniversary dinner. Alex carried a small bouquet of daisies, which were Mrs. Sackett’s favorite. They’d looked everywhere around their neighborhood for them without success, and so Alex had had the idea to special order them from an actual florist’s shop. She’d picked them up after school the day before and had carefully kept them in water inside her locker. Now in the afternoon heat they were already looking a little droopy.
Ava carried the present their dad was going to give to their mom. It was wrapped in a little box with a purple ribbon. They had arranged to bring everything to Madame Nicole in advance of the dinner.
“Huh, just got a text from Daddy,” said Alex with a frown, glancing at her phone.
“Me too,” said Ava, pulling out her own phone.
The girls opened their messages at the same time.
Neither one said anything, although Alex let out a tiny gasp.
Then they looked at each other.
“This cannot be happening,” said Alex. She felt hot tears springing to her eyes. Even cool, calm Ava looked distressed.
“How could there be a pep rally tonight?” wailed Alex.
“Well, duh, of course there’s a pep rally tonight, now that I think of it,” said Ava. “The question is, why didn’t Coach or Tommy think of it? I mean, it’s been Spirit Week all week long. It makes total sense that there’d be a pep rally tonight, the night before the first game of the season.”
“Maybe he won’t have to go!” said Alex, but she knew perfectly well she was wrong. Of course the head coach of the team would have to go. He’d probably be expected to make a speech.
They leaned against the side of a brick building, near an antique storefront a few doors away from Le Pain. Alex could feel the heat of the bricks through her shirt.
Ava snapped out of it first. She tapped at her phone.
“Who are you calling?” asked Alex, sniffling.
“Coach.”
“Daddy? He has practice!”
“Not for three more minutes,” she said grimly, and held the phone to her ear. “And he just sent that text, so he’ll still have his phone in his hand.”
Alex swallowed back a huge lump that had risen in her throat.
“Coach,” said Ava, and her tone was businesslike, not accusatory. “We just got your text.” (Pause.) “I know.” (Pause.) “I know. It’s fine.” (Pause.) “I know.” (Pause.) “I know.” (Much longer pause.)
Alex hopped from one foot to the other, wishing she’d thought to get Ava to put him on speakerphone.
“Okay, but we have a plan,” said Ava.
“We do?” whispered Alex.
“Yes, we do,” said Ava into the phone, because Coach must have asked the same question. “We’re almost at the restaurant. We’re going to tell Madame Nicole to move the reservation to six fifteen, and we’ll have them make the food ahead, so it will be waiting for you when you get here. You hustle from practice just as it ends, at six. The pep rally is at seven. That should give you forty-five minutes for dinner.” She paused again while he spoke. “Yes.” (Pause.) “Yes.” (Pause.) “Yes. I know. We are the best. No one is better than we are. Yup. Bye.”
She hung up.
“Well?” Alex asked anxiously.
“I think we’re going to be okay,” said Ava. “You go to the restaurant and preorder the food and talk to them about the schedule change. Madame Nicole told us she wouldn’t accept any other reservations or walk-ins before seven p.m., so they could have the restaurant all to themselves, and this won’t change that. It’ll just be a faster dinner.”
“A much faster dinner,” said Alex glumly.
Ava continued, all business. “I’ll text Mrs. Cahill and tell her to get Mom there fifteen minutes earlier. Then I’ll run over to the stadium and find Coach Byron. I’ll ask him to have Coach out of there as early as humanly possible after practice ends. And then I’ll track down Tommy and tell him to call the musician and ask him or her to be there fifteen minutes earlier. They’ll have forty-five minutes to celebrate their anniversary before he has to go to the pep rally. It’s not ideal, but it’ll be better than nothing.”
Alex took a step back and regarded her sister with newfound admiration. “Ave! You’re so organized. You sound like me! Only much more efficient! What’s gotten into you?”
Ava grinned and shrugged. “I think now that I know my disorganization and lack of focus have a name, and that I can do something about them, I actually feel better. More organized and focused. Go figure.”
“I’m glad for you,” Alex said. “But I’m worried about how Mom is going to respond. Did you see how quiet she was at breakfast this morning? She didn’t even mention their anniversary. I bet she’s convinced Daddy has forgotten it. She was probably waiting for him to wish her a happy anniversary, and he didn’t. I hope this isn’t going to end in tragedy.”
“Me too,” said Ava grimly. “Now let’s get going. We have a job to do.”
Coach walked into the restaurant at 6:01, frazzled and anxious. But his dripping hair told Alex he’d showered, and he’d even managed to put on a collared shirt and dress pants. Alex could hardly believe it.
“Daddy!” she exclaimed, pulling him toward the table. “How did you get out of practice so early? I thought it ended at six!”
Coach shot Ava a look. “Coach Byron booted me at five forty-five,” he said. “Told me he’d handle the end of practice and the team talk. He practically slammed the locker room door in my face.”
Ava looked up at the ceiling and whistled innocently.
“Well, you look awesome,” said Alex. “I mean, dapper.”
Coach and Ava looked at each other and laughed.
“It’s a shame Tommy can’t be here to witness the surprise,” said Alex.
“I agree,” said Coach. “But the whole team is expected to shower and head straight to the pep rally—I can’t do anything about that. Your mother will understand.”
“She’s going to be here any minute,” said Ava, glancing at the clock on her phone.
Coach admired the table. The daisies were arranged in a low cut-crystal vase. Golden light from the votive candles made the silver sparkle and the china glint. He spied Madame Nicole hovering in the background and gave her a thumbs-up. She beamed.
Suddenly he turned toward the girls in a panic.
“A present,” he croaked. “I forgot to get her a present.”
Alex held out the box with the purple ribbon. “We’re all over that, Daddy,” she said, and giggled.
“What did I get her?”
“Your varsity ring,” she said. “Ava and Tommy and I chipped in and got a silver chain for it so Mom could wear it around her neck, as if you guys were in high school.”
“It was Alex’s idea,” said Ava gallantly.
He marveled at her. “It’s perfect, sweetie. She’ll love it.” He looked around. “Why are there no other people in the restaurant?”
Madame
Nicole stepped out from behind the antique polished bar. “Good evening, Monsieur Sackett,” she said.
Alex loved the way she’d pronounced it: Sah-KET.
“We were actually planning to be closed tonight,” she explained. “We have found that ’istorically, we have very little business on the nights before ’ome football games. And of course tomorrow night we will be open quite late, after ze game, for those who desire a late-night supper.”
“That’s mighty kind of you, Madame Nicole,” said Coach. “I’m sorry about all the confusion with the pep rally. You and my daughters have certainly saved the day!”
“She’s here!” yelled Ava from the window, where she’d set up surveillance.
Madame Nicole hurried to the door and pulled it open.
Mrs. Cahill entered first, leading a blindfolded Mrs. Sackett.
Mrs. Sackett was giggling. “This is rather elaborate, April. Where on earth are we going?”
Mrs. Cahill didn’t answer, but led Mrs. Sackett over to the table, where Coach had leaped up to pull out her chair. Then he untied the blindfold.
Mrs. Sackett blinked and looked around, a bewildered expression on her face. “Michael! Alex? Ava? What on earth—,” she said. “I thought we were having a girls’ night!”
“Happy anniversary!” yelled Ava and Alex at the same time.
Mrs. Sackett’s eyes widened. She clapped both her hands to her mouth.
Ava bent over in silent laughter. Then she stood and whispered into Alex’s ear. “She totally forgot it was their anniversary! She’s as bad as Coach!”
Mrs. Cahill congratulated them, gave Mrs. Sackett a quick hug, patted Coach on the shoulder, and left the restaurant.
Coach helped their mom sit and gently pushed in her chair. “It was these girls of ours who arranged everything,” he said. “They planned this whole thing. We have the whole restaurant to ourselves. Can you imagine? A quiet dinner, just the two of us?”
Just then, music started playing.
Ava and Alex looked up, startled. It was live music, but not a violin; it was lovely, sassy, jazzy music.
Madame Nicole wheeled away an accordion divider that had been obscuring part of the room near their parents’ table, and which Alex hadn’t even noticed hadn’t been there the last time they visited the restaurant.
Behind it were Tommy and two of his friends. Tommy was still in his practice pads, his cheeks flushed with recent exertion and with traces of eye black still on his face, but he was sitting at a piano, playing as though he were wearing a snappy tuxedo. Next to him, a handsome high school boy tapped rhythmically on a drum set, and a girl in a sleek blue dress and shiny silver heels plucked away at a double bass.
Tommy glanced up at them and gave them a half smile without missing a beat.
The other four Sacketts gaped in astonishment.
“Aha, you see?” said Madame Nicole. “Even I can ’elp with the surprises!”
Mrs. Sackett dabbed away a tear from the corner of her eye with her table napkin. “Oh, Michael. Girls. It’s perfect. It’s just so lovely.”
“Yeah, about that,” said Coach, shifting uncomfortably in his chair and darting a glance toward the kitchen. “I’m afraid we don’t have all the time in the world for dinner.” He glanced at his watch. “But at least we have, uh, thirty-two minutes together.”
“Pep rally?” asked Mrs. Sackett.
“Yes,” he said, nodding apologetically. “Which of course you know all about, because you probably helped plan it.”
Mrs. Sackett nodded, and reached across the table to clasp his hands in hers. “It’s okay, honey,” she said. “Just the fact that you pulled this off is a miracle in itself.”
Ava whispered into Alex’s ear. “It’s turning goopy,” she said.
“Right,” said Alex quickly. “I think we should get going.”
“Yeah, we’ll leave you two alone,” said Ava.
“For your quiet, romantic half hour together,” added Alex.
“Do you hear a noise?” asked Mrs. Sackett.
The door to the restaurant burst open.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
A mob of people streamed into the restaurant. Just behind them was a large portion of the Ashland High School marching band. Tommy’s trio stopped playing and settled back to watch, grinning. Ava stared at her brother. Was he in on this?
The band was playing the school song. In the small room, the noise was almost deafening. A gleaming sousaphone loomed above the crowd of heads, as well as a tuba and at least one trombone. Bringing up the rear was a blond-haired high school boy booming on the big bass drum. Ava was pretty sure she could see dishes vibrating.
Six or seven cheerleaders in uniform were punching the air with pom-poms. Ava wondered if the pretty girl in the middle of the group with her hair braided was Kylie’s older sister. She suspected so. Then, when Ava was sure the restaurant couldn’t hold any more people, the crowd parted to make way for at least a dozen members of the football team and all the assistant coaches. Everyone cheered and whooped over the sound of the band.
Now the tiny restaurant was packed wall-to-wall. Ava found herself backed up against the front window, and she could see that outside, hundreds—could it be thousands?—of townspeople were gathered, singing, cheering, chanting, in the golden light of the setting sun.
Madame Nicole stood up on a chair, the way ladies in cartoons did when they saw a mouse. But rather than looking alarmed, she was smiling and conducting the band, her elegant, bracelet-adorned arms making half circles in the air with an invisible baton. Ava wondered if she had known about this new plan, and suspected that she had. Most likely Tommy had tipped her off.
She could see the kitchen staff, who had all come out into the dining area to observe the action. No wonder the amuse-bouche—which Alex had found out was kind of a single-serving appetizer—hadn’t been brought out yet!
When the band finished the school song, Coach Byron gave a quick toot on his whistle to quiet the crowd. He, too, stood up on a chair. Ava could see his two kids, Jamila and Shane, hovering near Mr. and Mrs. Sackett’s table.
“Laura,” said Coach Byron, nodding toward Mrs. Sackett. “Coach Sackett, members of the team, members of the pep squad, PTA organizers, townspeople, and random passersby who just wandered in to see what the fuss was about”—everyone laughed—“welcome! We’ve gathered here to wish Laura and Coach Sackett a happy anniversary. I understand from Tom that it’s your twentieth.” He gave Tommy a little salute.
Tommy saluted back.
“And we’ve also learned over these past couple of weeks that Coach is somewhat stubborn and that the last thing in the world he’d consider is missing tonight’s pep rally, even if it is his twentieth wedding anniversary.”
Lots of people in the crowd laughed again. One of the horn players tooted playfully.
“And so,” continued Coach Byron, “we decided that rather than have you come to the pep rally, we’d bring it to you, Coach. So here we are!”
Another big cheer. Honking horns. Waving pom-poms.
“A big thanks to your daughters, Ava and Alex, for organizing this intimate romantic dinner for you,” he said.
The crowd laughed again.
“And to Madame Nicole Duchamps and her husband, Gaston, the co-owners of this quiet little romantic restaurant.”
The chef—Ava assumed Monsieur Gaston—acknowledged the crowd with a wave of his whisk. Madame Nicole had borrowed an air horn from one of the boys in the crowd, and she gave it a blaring toot, eliciting another howl of laughter from the crowd.
Coach stood up from his chair and cleared his throat, but Coach Byron put up his hands to prevent him from speaking.
“No speeches, Coach!”
More laughter.
“We aren’t here to ask you to make an on-demand speech on your anniversary. We just came by to wish you well, to extend our apologies to Laura for taking you away from your family for so many hours of the day so m
any days of the week, and to tell you we’re heading off to the stadium for the pep rally, and we want you to stay here and enjoy your dinner. And to extend a special, heartfelt thanks to Laura, for all the great work she’s done for the team so far.”
Several parents in the back of the crowd whooped loudly at that.
Mrs. Sackett beamed.
“Go, Tigers!” shouted Coach Byron.
With a roar and a cheer that made Ava fear for the windowpanes in the restaurant, the crowd began filing out. The band started up the school song again, and in a few minutes the room was quiet, although they could hear the shouts and cheers and music and horn blares as they receded into the distance.
Tommy and his musician friends stopped by the table. The two friends shook hands with Coach and Mrs. Sackett and headed off, leaving Tommy, Alex, and Ava alone with their parents.
Mrs. Sackett shook her head in wonderment. “You kids. Michael. I just, I don’t know what to say.” She sniffled, her eyes misty.
“Make her open the present, Daddy!” said Alex excitedly.
Coach grinned as Mrs. Sackett pulled the lid off the little box and exclaimed in delight at the class ring on a chain. Alex helped her fasten it. They all admired how pretty it looked.
Then Mrs. Sackett looked guiltily at Coach.
“Michael, I am the worst wife ever,” she said. “I completely forgot about our anniversary. It’s been so hectic this week I just—it slipped my mind. And here you did all this planning.”
Coach shifted uncomfortably in his chair, darted a sideways look at Ava and Alex, cleared his throat, and said, “To be honest, Laur, it was Alex who remembered. And she and Ave and Tommy did all the planning. I would have forgotten too. So don’t beat yourself up about it. We’ve both been a little—distracted. The difference is, I’m so bad, the kids knew I’d forget. At least they gave you more credit, and rightfully so.”
Mrs. Sackett put her arm around Alex’s waist and pulled her daughter close to her. “I am the luckiest person on the planet,” she said, “to have such an amazing family.”
“We wanted you to know how much we appreciate all that you do, Mom,” said Alex.
