I have always done everything with Mary Ann. We have lived next door to each other almost all of our lives. The first pinky swear we ever made was when we swore to always be lifelong best friends. I love Mary Ann with all my heart, but sometimes she says things that scare me.
And this is one of those times.
She taps me on the shoulder like she is talking and wants my full attention.
“You won the contest, and we get to be on the Fashion Fran show!” This time when she says “we,” she holds up her pinky like she wants to make sure I remember the pinky swear we made:
“If one of us wins, we’ll figure out the rest.”
“I don’t see how we’re going to pull this off,” I say to Mary Ann. My voice is almost a whisper.
Mary Ann crosses her arms across her chest and shakes her head like she’s disappointed she even has to explain this to me.
“Mallory, when we were five, we made a pinky swear that we would share all our Halloween candy.
“Even though I got two pumpkins full of candy and you only got one, I shared all my candy with you.
“I kept my pinky swear!”
Mary Ann keeps talking. “When we were seven and you were scared to go to school, we made a pinky swear that we would sit next to each other in class no matter what.
“I was the one who had to convince mean, scary Mrs. Barton to put our desks next to each other.
“I kept my pinky swear!”
Mary Ann keeps talking like she’s nowhere near done. “And when we were nine, we made a pinky swear to always paint our toenails the same color.
“There have been times when I didn’t like the color you picked. But I painted my toenails the same color as yours. I KEPT MY PINKY SWEAR!”
Mary Ann gives me a what-kind-of-best-friend-would-you-be-if-you-didn’t-keep-your-pinky-swear look.
“A pinky swear is a pinky swear,” she says.
I take a deep breath. I know a pinky swear is a pinky swear.
I just don’t know how I’m going to keep this one.
Mary Ann sits on a bench while I pace back and forth in front of the wish pond at the end of our street. Mary Ann reads from a clipboard.
“List?”
“Check,” I say.
“Letters and pictures?”
“Check. Check.”
“Folding Chairs? TV table? Back pillows?”
“Check. Check. Check.”
“Cupcakes? Lemonade? Fruit Platter? Mints?”
“Check. Check. Check. And … check,” I say.
Mary Ann takes a deep breath. “OK. We’re ready to put Operation: Moms into action.”
We both cross our fingers and our toes. Then we pick up rocks and toss them into the wish pond. Hopefully, our crossing and tossing will bring us good luck. Right now, we could really use some good luck.
Operation: Moms is going to be a tricky one. We have to convince our moms that the four people who should go to New York are Mom, me, Mary Ann, and her mom. My mom is going to say Max and Dad should go. Mary Ann’s mom is going to say she’s not sure it is a good idea since she is pregnant.
“I’ll get the moms. You get the blindfolds,” says Mary Ann.
I nod. Then I take one last look at everything we set up. It looks good. But still, convincing our moms to take us both to New York won’t be easy.
When I see Mary Ann walking down the street with our moms, I run to meet them. “No peeking!” I say as I blindfold our moms.
Mary Ann’s mom pats her belly. “Careful!” she says.
“Don’t worry,” Mary Ann and I say at the same time. Since Colleen’s baby is due this summer, careful is a word she uses a lot.
We guide our moms to the chairs we set up at the wish pond. We sit them down. Then we take off the blindfolds. “Wow!” both moms say as they look at the table of treats in front of them. Mary Ann and I adjust the pillows behind their backs to make sure they are extra comfy.
Mary Ann’s mom smiles. “What did we do to deserve all this?” she asks.
“Eat first, talk later,” I say. Mary Ann and I serve our moms cupcakes, fruit, and lemonade. When they’re done eating, we offer them each a mint.
Then they look at us like it’s time to start talking.
Mary Ann gives me a you’re-the-spokes-person-of-this-operation look.
I clear my throat and start. The first part of what I have to say is easy. I remind our moms about the contest we entered. I show them the letters from Fashion Fran.
“Mallory, you won the contest? That’s wonderful!” Colleen gushes.
“I’m so proud of you, Mallory!” My mom gives me a huge hug.
I wait while they read the letter. I keep waiting while they talk about how exciting it is to have won a contest. Then I pause. The next thing I have to say is not so easy to say.
“Mary Ann and I want to go to New York together, with the two of you.”
Both moms look at each other like they are not sure about that.
Mom takes the letter addressed to my parents and starts reading. Colleen shifts around in her chair like she is uncomfortable. Before either of them have a chance to say anything, I keep talking.
I explain how Mary Ann and I entered this contest together. I tell them how we have never been on a mother-daughter trip with just the four of us. I remind them that once Mary Ann’s mom has the baby, it would be a very long time before we could think about going on a mother-daughter trip together.
Both moms shake their heads like that is not something that is going to happen.
Then they both start firing off questions faster than kernels pop out of the popcorn machine at the movie theater.
Mom looks at me. “Mallory, have you thought about Dad and Max? Don’t you think they will want to go to New York too?” She shakes her head like she can’t believe I didn’t think of these things.
Colleen looks at Mary Ann. “Have you forgotten that I’m having a baby? How could I possibly keep up with you girls in New York?” She shakes her head like just the idea of it is tiring.
Mary Ann and I had a feeling this was how they were going to respond. We look at each other, and then we both pull lists out of our back pockets.
We start reading together.
Our moms look at the list, and then they look at us like they’re not sure what to say. Even though I’m the official spokesperson, Mary Ann starts talking.
“Please, please, please!” she says. “Please say yes that we can all go together to New York.”
Mary Ann gives me a make-your-sad-puppy-face look.
I make the best sad-puppy face I’ve ever made.
Our moms start talking quietly to each other. Even though we’re close by, it is hard to tell what they are saying. I hear buzz words like plane and hotel and timing. But it is impossible to tell by their facial expressions if they are going to say “yes” or “no” to what we asked.
Mary Ann and I aren’t taking any chances.
We came prepared. While our moms keep talking, Mary Ann and I hold up pictures of places to visit in New York City. We hold up pictures of the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty, Central Park, and Times Square.
Our moms look at the pictures, and then they look back at each other. I try to send a message from my brain to their brains to say yes.
Our moms keep talking quietly for what feels like a very long time.
Finally, they nod at each other like they agree.
Mary Ann grabs my hand. I feel like we are in court and the jury is about to read their verdict. I squeeze Mary Ann’s hand.
I don’t think I can wait another second. And I don’t have to.
“Girls,” says Mom. “Pack your bags. We’re going to New York!”
“So … what should our brilliant plan be for getting both of us on TV?” Mary Ann whispers into my ear for what seems like the three-thousandth time since our plane took off this morning.
I don’t blame Mary Ann for wanting to get that figured out. I’m nervou
s about it too. But it’s not what I want to think about right now. We just landed in New York. There are so many cool things to see and do. I shove the tourist brochure that Fran’s assistant sent to me into Mary Ann’s hand and point to a picture of a horse and carriage. “Do you think we should take a ride around Central Park?” I ask, ignoring the question Mary Ann asked me.
But Mary Ann ignores the brochure. Her suitcase bumps into my leg as we exit the plane, and she asks her question again.
I know I need to answer her question. But I don’t have a good answer.
As we walk out of the airport, I repeat the schedule that Mom told me this morning. “We’re going to check into the hotel. Eat lunch. Then we’re going to go to Fran’s studio.”
Mary Ann smiles when I say that like a visit to Fran’s studio is the answer to our problems. “I’m sure you can work things out when we get there,” she says.
It feels like the bag of pretzels and can of soda I had on the airplane are stuck in my throat. It doesn’t seem fair that I’m the one in charge of figuring this out, but I feel like I am. “I’ll try,” I tell Mary Ann. Even though designing a winning outfit and getting our moms to bring us both to New York was hard, now that we’re here, I feel like the hard part is just beginning.
Mary Ann and I follow our moms to a yellow taxi that her mom says will take us to our hotel. She also says that we’re going to be amazed when we get there because New York City has everything.
“Do they have a wish pond?” I ask.
Both of our moms laugh.
“I don’t think they have that,” says Mary Ann’s mom.
That’s too bad because that is the one thing I could use right now. As we leave the airport behind, I close my eyes and pretend like I’m at the wish pond on my street. I make a wish.
I wish I will figure out a way to get Mary Ann on Fashion Fran with me.
I keep my eyes closed for an extra-long time. I really want my wish to come true. I know Mary Ann wants to be on the show. I do too. I want us to both be on the show. Together.
I open my eyes when I feel someone’s hand on my shoulder. “Mallory, look out the window,” says Mom. She points to row after row of tall buildings.
Mary Ann and I both lean forward to get a better view.
I tap our taxi driver on the shoulder. “Is that New York City?” I ask pointing out his windshield.
“That’s the East River,” he says. “And that’s the city in front of us.”
“Wow!” I say. “I’ve never seen so many skyscrapers!”
“Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow!” Mary Ann says. She told me she’s going to say one “Wow!” for each skyscraper she sees. But she stops after sixteen “Wows!”
“There are so many skyscrapers, I’d spend the whole trip saying wow,” she says.
Both our moms laugh and so does our taxi driver.
I take a deep breath. I’m starting to feel like this trip is going to be a lot of fun. The sights of New York City are so exciting, and I am glad they are making Mary Ann think about something else besides the show.
There’s so much to see as we drive through the streets of New York. “I’ve never seen so many stores or buildings or cars,” I say.
“Or people!” says Mary Ann.
She’s right. “There are people everywhere you look!” I say. There are people walking on the sidewalks, coming out of buildings, riding bicycles, and crossing streets.
“You’ll see people out and about twenty-four hours a day,” says our taxi driver. “New York is known as the city that never sleeps.”
I dig in my purse and pull out my camera. “We’re going to have to take a lot of pictures,” I say to Mary Ann. I roll down the window and start snapping shots from the taxi.
Mary Ann takes out her camera and starts taking pictures too. “Our New York City scrapbook is going to be our biggest one ever!”
Everything that is going on outside our taxi is so exciting. New York is completely different from Fern Falls. We take pictures until our taxi stops in front of our hotel.
“We’re here!” says Mom.
Mary Ann’s mom pays the taxi driver. We all get out of the taxi and get our suitcases.
“I can’t believe we’re really in New York!” says Mary Ann. I can’t either. We start jumping up and down on the sidewalk. We scream together, “We’re here! We’re here! We’re here!” I’m feeling happier by the minute.
Lots of people pass us while we’re jumping and screaming, but no one seems to be paying any attention to us. Except our moms.
“Come on, girls,” says my mom.
We follow her into the hotel.
“This place is awesome!” says Mary Ann when we get inside.
She’s right. It’s more than awesome. I look up. The ceilings are higher than my house. The lobby is filled with fluffy couches, fancy rugs, and vases of flowers.
“Let’s check in and take the bags to the room,” says my mom. “We can all freshen up, and then we’ll get some lunch and go to the studio,”
When she says “go to the studio,” I look at Mary Ann. I know I should be thinking about what we’re going to do when we get there. But I’m not. And I can tell Mary Ann isn’t either. It’s hard to think about anything except how exciting it is to be in New York.
I feel like a candy dish. The only difference is that I’m filled up with happiness, not mints or jelly beans.
Mary Ann and I walk around the lobby while our moms talk to a lady behind the desk. Then we follow them into an elevator and up to the twenty-fourth floor.
When we get inside our room, I can’t believe what I’m seeing. There are two huge beds covered in fluffy pillows. There’s a big window with long, fancy curtains. And behind another door is a marble bathroom with an oversized bathtub. But the best thing in our room is a big basket of fruit and candy on the desk. The card with it says: To Miss Mallory McDonald. I open it and start reading.
“Wow!” I say. I pop a chocolate into my mouth. I don’t know if it is because they’re from Fran or because we’re in New York and candy tastes extra good here, but it is the best chocolate I’ve ever had.
Mary Ann eats a chocolate too. She goes to the window and looks outside. “Wow!” she says. “Mallory, you have to see this!”
I go to the window and look out. There is an incredible view of New York City outside our window. I can look into some buildings and see the tops of other ones. “Wow!” I say. “I’ve never slept so high up.”
Our moms look at each other. “Wow!” they say at the same time. Mary Ann’s mom and my mom start laughing. “You girls sound like parrots who only know one word,” says Colleen.
We might sound like parrots, but I can’t think of a better word to describe everything. New York is WOW!
I hop on the bed and start jumping. “Wow! Wow! Wow!”
Mary Ann hops on the bed and starts jumping with me. “Wow! Wow! Wow!” she repeats.
We hold hands while we jump.
We both fall down on the bed on top of the big fluffy pillows and start laughing.
Being in New York is so exciting. I was worried this morning, but now I feel just one thing, and I can tell my best friend feels the same thing: happy.
I feel happy.
Happy! Happy! Happy!
As happy as I was in the hotel, I am just as unhappy now. And I am not the only one who is unhappy. Mary Ann is unhappy too. In fact, if there was a list called the Unhappy List, both of our names would be on it.
Here’s why:
When we first got to Fran’s studio, everything was perfect.
A nice man named Ernesto gave us all a tour of the set.
We got to go backstage.
We saw the sewing room.
We saw Fran’s dressing room.
We got to walk through the photo gallery of Fran’s most fashionable looks.
We even got to have chocolate-covered strawberries and fresh-squeezed orange juice in Fran’s personal snack lounge.
Ever
ything was perfect until Ernesto took us to meet Fran’s assistant, Holiday. We went with our moms to Holiday’s office to discuss “show day details.”
That was when everything went from perfect to NOT.
First, Holiday explained what would happen on the day of the show. She talked about where I would need to be and what I would need to do. My mom asked lots of questions. I shifted around in my chair and tried to listen while Holiday went over the details.
Wardrobe.
Fitting.
Stage.
Model.
Dream outfit.
I tried to focus while Holiday explained that I would have to be backstage early. Mom, Colleen, and Mary Ann would all have front row seats in the audience. I even heard her say something about giving them special backstage passes for after the show.
But as exciting as it all was, it was hard to focus on what Holiday was saying when I had something of my own to say. I crossed my toes that what I was about to say would work.
When Holiday stopped talking, I started.
I explained to Holiday how Mary Ann and I are lifelong best friends. I told her how we worked on our designs together and how we entered the contest together. I told her that we like to do everything together and that we would like to be on the Fashion Fran show. TOGETHER!
I thought I said it all very convincingly.
Even Mary Ann gave me a look like I had done a good job.
So I smiled and waited for Holiday to say something like, “I get it. I’ve got a lifelong best friend too. If we won a contest to be on TV, we’d want to do it together too. Not a problem. You girls will be adorable together on TV.”
But that’s not what Holiday said.
All she said was, “Sorry, girls. Mallory won the contest.” As if it was something we should’ve already known.
Then she pushed her chair back from her desk. She took a deep breath and looked at her watch like what I was saying was not something she had time to deal with.
My mom and Colleen looked at each other and shook their heads. They apologized to Holiday and said something about how they hadn’t known I would ask such a thing.
Mallory and Mary Ann Take New York Page 2
