CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE: The Crisis: Darby
CHAPTER TWO: Negotiations: Delaney
CHAPTER THREE: Conference: Dawn
CHAPTER FOUR: Home Front: Darby
CHAPTER FIVE: Peace Offerings: Delaney
CHAPTER SIX: State Dinner: Dawn
CHAPTER SEVEN: Court of Appeal: Delaney
CHAPTER EIGHT: Counter Strike: Darby
CHAPTER NINE: Summit: Delaney
CHAPTER TEN: Covert Actions: Dawn
CHAPTER ELEVEN: Confirmation Hearing: Darby
CHAPTER TWELVE: Ways and Means: Dawn
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Operation Eaves Drop: Delaney
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Uniform: Darby
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Gross Domestic Product: Dawn
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: High Alert: Delaney
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Allies: Dawn
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: This Is Only a Drill: Darby
CHAPTER NINETEEN: Operation Face-the-Facts
CHAPTER TWENTY: Through the Perilous Fight: Dawn
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: D-Day: Darby
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: Aide: Delaney
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: Phil-ibuster: Dawn
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: United We Stand: Darby
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: New Deal: Delaney
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: Truce: Dawn
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: State of the Union: Darby
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: Independence: Delaney
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: Mission Accomplished: Dawn
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
COPYRIGHT
It was Delaney’s idea that we ruin Lily’s wedding. She’ll probably argue and say it wasn’t, but it was.
We were in an emergency meeting in the Triangular Office — which is our bedroom. We used to have the room next to Lily’s, but when we got too big for our cribs, Mom and Dad realized they couldn’t fit three beds in there, so they moved us up into the attic. Because our house is old, there are spots that creak when you stand on them and teeny gaps in the wall and floor, but overall it’s nice and airy and far away from the other rooms, so we don’t have to worry about being heard. It has real wood plank walls and a real wood plank floor and a window that looks out over the front lawn. Not only is it spacious enough for three beds, it also fits three bookcases, three chairs, and a large desk that we share. There’s even a big walk-in closet for our clothes, bins of old toys, boxes of Christmas decorations that won’t fit in the storage room downstairs, and a collection of wooden Revolutionary War replica swords that Mom only lets us bring out on patriotic holidays.
Anyway, because it’s an attic, the ceiling slopes up to a point at the top of the roof like a triangle, so we call it the Triangular Office.
“I call this meeting to order,” Dawn said, pounding her fist like a gavel against her headboard. “We need to deal with this very important and horrible situation — which is that our sister is planning to marry a … a …”
“A rapscallion?” Delaney said.
“A scalawag?” I said.
Dawn considered our suggestions. “I think he’s more of a nincompoop.”
“Who looks like an armadillo,” Delaney added. “Without the shell.”
We agreed this was a good comparison. Burton is skinny and squinty-eyed, with a long, thin nose. He never comes out of the library. Plus, he runs funny. We know this because he got scared by a bee a couple of weeks ago.
“What does Lily see in him?” Delaney asked. It was the same question we’d been asking ourselves since she started dating him last December. That’s probably why Delaney said it to the piggy bank shaped like the Liberty Bell that she held in her hands. She knew we didn’t have any answers.
I should explain that Lily is our older sister. And when I say older, I mean much older. She is twenty-two and we are eleven. After years of being told she couldn’t have more babies, our mom was really surprised to find out she was pregnant. She and Dad were even more surprised when they found out she was pregnant with triplets. The family doubled in size in a matter of months. We stayed that way for a long time — Dawn, Delaney, and me, plus Lily, and Mom and Dad — until Mom and Dad divorced two years ago. Now it’s just five of us in the house — all girls, unless you count Quincy, our Labrador retriever. But Dad lives just a few minutes away, which means that in addition to our official weekends with him, we often bump into him here and there.
So we all just sat there thinking about how much we loved our sister and how much we disliked the doofus she wanted as her husband. And that’s when Delaney said, “We have to stop it.”
See? Her idea.
Only … we all agreed. We took a vote and everything. We just didn’t know how we could possibly stop a wedding.
“Darby, you should take notes,” Dawn said.
“Me? Why me?”
“As your eldest sister and the future president of the United States, I think we need to put this down on paper so we can figure out what to do.”
“Delaney’s the youngest, and she’s going to be Speaker of the House, where they write the laws,” I pointed out. “Shouldn’t she do it?”
Dawn shook her head. “You know she can’t sit still that long.”
“Plus,” added Delaney, “you type the fastest.”
I did what any person who plans to be chief justice of the United States should do — I listened to all sides before forming my opinion. In this case, I decided they were right. So I sat down at the desk and turned on the computer.
“What are we going to do?” I asked, all ready with my hands on the keyboard.
We sat there for a while, just thinking. Then Dawn said, “Let’s review the facts.”
So we did. And this is what I typed:
Last Friday, at about 21:00 hours, Lily came home from her date with Burton and called Mom and the three of us into the living room.
Lily was kind of pink-faced and was talking really fast. At first, Mom thought she had been in a car accident, but it was worse than that. She said Burton had asked her to marry him and she said yes.
Mom mumbled, “Oh my.”
We mumbled, “Oh no.”
Lily told us that they’d decided the wedding would take place in one month. They wanted it to happen soon because once he finishes up a big paper for his master’s degree, he’s moving to Illinois to go to a law school.
Delaney asked Lily if she would stop studying to be a teacher, and Lily said no — she would just finish her degree in Illinois instead of Texas.
I asked her if she and Burton would get married on the hill. (The hill is on our property behind our house. It’s great for the Slip ’N Slide. Lily loves it, too, and she always said she wanted to get married on it, right at sunset.)
Lily said no. Burton has allergies.
She then said that we would be in the wedding, too. Dawn asked who we were going to marry, and Lily said no one. We were going to be her flower girls.
Only, she said we wouldn’t scatter real flowers. We would have to use fake ones. Because Burton has allergies.
Mom mumbled, “Oh boy.”
We mumbled, “Oh no.” (Actually, it was a little louder than a mumble.)
Delaney pointed out that this would make us “fake flower girls,” and Dawn and I agreed. Lily just laughed and said that we would be real flower girls — even if the flowers were plastic.
Then Lily said, “I better call Dad,” and went into Mom’s office.
We turned toward Mom and started saying things like “Isn’t it horrible?” and “Plastic flowers are stupid” and “Tell her she can’t do it!”
Mom said that Lily was a grown wom
an and could make her own decisions. She said we needed to give Burton a chance, and that the main reason we don’t like him is because we miss Alex.
Then Mom said she had a headache and went to lie down.
“Mom’s right,” Dawn said, reading over my shoulder. “I miss Alex.”
“Me, too,” I said.
“Me three,” Delaney said.
Alex was Lily’s boyfriend before Burton. They met in middle school and started to date their sophomore year of high school. He used to hang out here with her all the time. His favorite president is Thomas Jefferson. We all respect that.
Once, Dawn asked Burton who his favorite U.S. president was, and do you know what he said? Franklin Pierce! We asked why, and he said because he was President Pierce’s great-great-great-grandnephew — or something like that. Now, the three of us don’t even agree on who the best president was. Dawn’s favorite is Washington, Delaney’s is Lincoln, and mine is Franklin Delano Roosevelt. But we all agree that they were good ones. And we all agree that Pierce was not one of the best.
Anyway, when Lily and Alex graduated high school, Lily went to the University of Texas just down the road in Austin, and Alex went to Tulane University in New Orleans. They were still a couple, though, and Alex would visit during the breaks and occasionally on a weekend. But for some reason, they broke up last summer. Lily never said why — she just went all mopey and droopy-looking for a long time. And then Burton nosed his way into her life.
For the rest of the meeting — in fact, for the rest of the weekend — we were too sad to think of ideas. It started to seem like we were going to end up related to a sneezy, squinty, Franklin Pierce–loving armadillo.
Then, on Monday, Delaney saw Alex downtown and everything changed….
It’s true I said we should stop the wedding from happening, but I didn’t mean we should ruin it. I was thinking we could come up with a way to talk Lily out of it. My sisters will say that I never stop talking. Dawn is all about decision making, and Darby is all about thinking and dreaming, but I like to discuss things.
Only, I couldn’t figure out what to say to Lily. I couldn’t exactly tell her that we hated her fiancé because he liked the nincompoopiest of all presidents. Or because he looked like he should be digging a burrow somewhere out in the Hill Country. Or because he wasn’t Alex.
The thing was, Alex just looked better with Lily. Not because he was handsomer, which we all thought he was. It was just that, whenever she was with him, Lily was all shiny and bright and laughed a lot. Burton never made her laugh. He never booped the end of her nose when she looked worried. And he never brought her things that he found on his walks — like wildflowers or clam fossils shaped like hearts. (Burton doesn’t take walks. Because Burton has allergies.)
But when we said all these things to Mom, she said we were being silly. And once, when we asked Burton why he never picked wildflowers for Lily, he said it was illegal — and they made him sneeze. All the things we thought were important didn’t seem to matter to anyone else.
Then Mom decided to invite Burton and his mother over for dinner Monday night. And anytime we have company over, Mom makes a peach cobbler. That morning, she discovered she needed a new can of shortening in order to make it. I was the only triplet in sight when she made this realization, so she sent me down to Ever’s Corner Store.
Ever’s is this old-timey place that was built back when Eisenhower was president. The coolest part about the store is the soda fountain, so folks mainly go in there for the homemade shakes and burgers, and they hardly ever shop. Because of this, a lot of the stuff on their shelves is dusty or expired, and we all call it Forever’s. Our neighbor, Ms. Woolcott, once bought a box of panty hose and found a mouse living in it. We could hear her scream as we ate our breakfast.
Anyway, so there I was in Forever’s, wiping off a can with the end of my shirt to see if it might be shortening, when I saw someone familiar walk away from the front counter.
Alex!
“Alex! Alex! Alex!” I started yelling, and jumping up and down as if I were barefoot on hot pavement.
“Hey, Delaney,” he said, swerving to meet up with me. Unlike Burton, who was always calling us Debbie or Dana or Delilah, Alex never got us confused. Also, unlike Burton, Alex doesn’t resemble any funny-looking critters. He’s handsome the same way Lily is pretty — in a friendly, natural sort of way. His eyes are big and round like hers, but dark brown instead of blue. And he smiles and laughs a lot, just like Lily. (The way she used to anyhow.)
“What are you doing here?” I asked him, still hopping a little.
“Just had a root beer float.”
“No. I mean, how come you’re in Texas?”
“I’m home for the summer and interning as a clerk in the courthouse. Was just on my lunch break,” he said. Seeing him filled me with warm, cozy, familiar feelings. Then I felt sad, because I remembered that we never got to see him on purpose anymore — only on accident.
“You know what? You should come by the house,” I said. “How about tomorrow? Lily got us cookie cutters in the shape of Lincoln’s head. We could make chocolate chip.”
Alex’s smile slowly drooped. “Ah … um … maybe,” he said.
“Don’t do that, Alex,” I said. “Don’t be one of those grown-ups who say ‘maybe’ when they mean ‘no.’ ”
He chuckled. “You girls are smarter than most college students.”
“Oh, come on. Please? You could see Dawn and Darby and Mom and Quincy. And you could see Lily.”
“That’s just it,” he said with a sigh. “Lily and I haven’t talked in a long while. I’m not sure she’d appreciate my showing up out of the blue.”
“I bet she would.”
Alex’s eyes got big. “Think so? But isn’t she still seeing what’s-his-name?”
“Burton?” I could feel my face bunch up, as if I were smelling something bad. “It’s worse than you know. Not only is she still seeing him, they’re getting married in three and a half weeks.”
“They’re what?” Alex stared past me at a display of diapers. I thought maybe he saw a mouse or something, because his mouth was all frowny and his face went kind of pale. But when I turned my head to check, everything looked all right.
That’s when I realized what his expression was for: He was upset to hear the news. Which meant that he still liked Lily!
“Come on, Alex,” I said, all whiny and pleading. “Please come out and visit.”
“I really don’t think I should.” His voice was quieter than it was before. “Sorry, Delaney. I’d love to, but your sister is moving on. I have to respect that.”
“But you still care about her, right? You guys can still be friends, right?”
“Well … yeah, but —”
“And friends visit each other, right?”
“Sure they do, but —”
“Then come visit!”
Alex shook his head. “Maybe someday,” he said. “If she were to invite me, I’d know it was okay to do things like that — to be friends. But she hasn’t. I really appreciate the invitation, and I’d really like to see all of you, but unless Lily reaches out, I have to assume she doesn’t want me around.”
“But … but …” I sounded all sputtery — like Dad’s Vespa. I just couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Alex patted me on the shoulder. “I’ve got to run, but I’m so glad I saw you. Please tell your family hi from me, okay?” Before I could say anything back to him, he turned and walked out.
I was bummed to see him leave, but then a huge smile popped out on my face.
Because, suddenly, I knew exactly what we needed to do.
While Delaney was out talking with Alex, I was in the Triangular Office, reading a book on Lyndon Baines Johnson. Even though we’re mad at him for picking up his beagle by the ears, Darby, Delaney, and I still think he is one of the most underappreciated presidents. Plus our town, Johnson City, was named for his family, which sort of makes him our ne
ighbor. At some point, I got thirsty and went downstairs.
The door to the attic is at the end of the hall, near Mom’s bathroom. Mom’s shower makes creepy groaning noises, even when it isn’t running — as if there’s a ghost. Sometimes, when I’m going up or down the stairs by myself, I get scared and run past that part of the house — just in case something might want to jump out and grab me. Delaney does this, too. Darby isn’t scared, but not because she doesn’t think there’s a ghost — she does. She just thinks ghosts can’t hurt us. Me? I’d rather be safe than sorry.
Anyway, so there I was, headed to the kitchen for a juice box. I did a speedy walk past Mom’s bathroom and was just slowing down when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something big and white and fluttery in Lily’s room. The ghost!
You’d think I would have screamed. Or run. Or called for help. Right? Nope. I froze.
I stood on my left foot, my right foot stretched behind me, as if I were a statue of a walking girl. Only, I couldn’t move. I just kept staring at the big white thing that flapped and wavered and rustled in front of me. Then the white thing started making little grunting sounds. I could feel a scream start to come up my throat and then … Lily’s head suddenly popped out of the white thing!
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” I yelled, still too scared to move.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” went Lily’s head. Then her head looked kind of mad at me and said, “What are you doing?”
And that’s when I noticed the white thing wasn’t a ghost. Lily was wearing a gigantic white dress. The skirt part was so big she probably couldn’t fit through the doorway. And at the tops of the sleeves were big, poufy things that stuck up like giant marshmallows.
“Why are you yelling, Dawn?” she asked. She walked over to the doorway, her dress making loud swishy sounds.
“What are you wearing?” I asked.
A funny look came over Lily’s face. “It’s, um … it’s a wedding dress. It used to belong to Burton’s mom. She wants me to wear it at the wedding.”
“All of it?” I asked, patting the skirt. It felt like twelve skirts on top of one another underneath.
She smiled a tiny smile. “Yes, all of it.”
Revenge of the Flower Girls Page 1
