I am keeping my roll closed in half while I eat it. I am crossing my fingers for someone to notice that I am eating very neat. Then they will see that I am very mature and ready to be a flower girl. And that Cousin Angela is very much too young to be doing such an important job.
“I am glad that I am not licking butter out of my roll!” I say real loud.
“This meat is yucky.” Angela pushes her plate right out of the way. “It is bloody meat.”
Cousin Harold gasps. Then he turns away from us and starts talking to the person next to him.
“You are right,” I tell Cousin Angela. “That meat is gross. Maybe you should ask for a hamburger and make a big fit about it.”
“Why?” she asks. She is looking at me very suspicious.
“Because it is bloody meat. Like you just said.” I wrinkle up my nose. I make a very gross face at her. So she knows that meat is yuck, yuck, yucky. “Time to have a good tantrum!” I say really happy.
That is called encouragement. Encouragement is when you tell someone they can do something. Like in gym class when we run the three-legged race. I am always partners with Russ Robertson. And I say to him, “Come on, Russ, let’s go! We cannot let that mean one Natalie Brice beat us!”
Sometimes encouragement does not work. Like when Russ tries to go faster. And his legs get tangled up, and we fall on the gym floor, and he gets a bloody lip.
“I do not want to have a fit,” Cousin Angela says. “I just want chicken nuggets.”
Maybelle gets a very happy look on her face. Then she points her wand right at Cousin Angela’s plate. And before I even know what is happening, there are chicken nuggets on it! And French fries. And one glass of soda. It looks very delicious-o.
“Maybelle,” I whisper. “Please make me some of those nuggets, please.”
But Maybelle gives a shrug of her shoulders. “Sorry, Hailey,” she says. “But I cannot control my magic.”
“Where is my meat?” Cousin Angela says. And then she bursts right into tears. She is crying very loud. And getting wet tears all over her napkin.
“What is wrong, Angela?” Aunt Denise is asking.
“I think she is scared of Harold’s spots,” I say. “She does not like freckles too much.”
“Hailey!” my dad says.
“What? I love freckles. They are very beautiful.” I turn to Cousin Harold. “Sorry if I hurt your feelings, Cousin Harold. But you should love those gorgeous freckles. If I had all those freckles, I would take a marker and connect the dots.”
“Hailey!” my mom says.
“HAILEY TOLD ME I SHOULD HAVE A FIT!” Cousin Angela yells. She is push, push, pushing her chair back. Then she gets out of it. And then she starts running all around that big fancy table.
“Where did those chicken nuggets come from?” Aunt Denise is asking. “And that soda? Angela, you know you are not supposed to be drinking sugar.”
“I LOVE SUGAR!” Cousin Angela yells. Now Cousin Harold is out of his chair. And he is chasing Angela all around the table. They are running and running.
“Those two are making me dizzy,” Maybelle says.
“Very dizzy,” I say.
And that is when it happens. A waiter comes out of the kitchen. He is holding a tray of very good and fancy desserts. And Cousin Angela goes slamming right into him.
“Ahhhhh!” the waiter screams.
Desserts are flying all over the place. Some frosting gets on Cousin Angela’s hair and face.
“Wow,” I say. “What a mess she made. Sometimes five-year-olds can really be a big pain. On account of how they are so young.”
The waiter is looking down at Cousin Angela. He is looking down at all the desserts.
“Are you okay, little girl?” he asks.
Cousin Angela is looking like maybe she is going to cry some more. I start to feel very sad in my heart. Because I did not want her to get hurt.
“Are you hurt, Cousin Angela?” I ask. I am getting out of my chair and kneeling down right by her side. But Cousin Angela just looks at me. Then she reaches over and picks a big piece of chocolate cake up with her hand. Then she takes a bite. And then she reaches out and smears that cake all over my face.
“That was a disaster of a dinner,” I say when we get home. Kaitlyn is sitting in the living room. She is watching a scary movie on TV. Kaitlyn is only allowed to watch scary movies when I am not home. This is because of something having to do with a scary movie that made me want to sleep with my mom and dad for two whole weeks.
That happened all the way last year when I was six. I am ready for scary movies now. But no one will give me a second chance.
“What happened?” Kaitlyn asks.
“Cousin Angela was very bad, and she slammed into a waiter, and a big thing of chocolate cake went all over, and then she smeared it all on my face.”
“That does sound like a disaster,” Kaitlyn agrees. “Did you get to practice walking down the aisle?”
“Yes, after dinner. And after I washed all that cake off my face.” The part was very fun. I had to do a special wedding walk. I am going to use that special wedding walk tomorrow when I am wearing my beautiful dress. “And guess what else?” I ask Kaitlyn.
“What?”
“Today in school Natalie Brice made fun of me.”
“Natalie Brice is mean,” Kaitlyn says.
“Yes, she is very mean.”
“Why did she make fun of you?”
“Because I thought that I was allowed to keep this one instrument. But it turned out to be a big misunderstanding.”
“What kind of instrument?” Kaitlyn asks.
“A very wonderful pair of bongo drums. I had a very good plan to play those drums at the wedding tomorrow.”
“I have some bongo drums,” Kaitlyn says. She is sitting up on the couch. “They are left over from a Hawaiian birthday party I went to. You can have them.”
My mouth drops open. Because that news is very much too good to be true.
But then Kaitlyn takes me up to her room. And she pulls out one pair of bongo drums! One pair that are perfect and amazing and exactly what I wanted.
“Just please do not play them all night.” Kaitlyn puts her hands on her head. “That will give me a headache.” That is called exaggerating. Kaitlyn is a drama queen. But she is a very nice drama queen. And a very nice sister.
“I won’t,” I promise.
And then Kaitlyn spends the rest of the night braiding my hair. And she even lets me do hers, too.
• • •
The next morning is the wedding, and so I am up very early.
“Hello, morning!” I say. I pull, pull, pull the curtains on my window right open. “Hello, Mr. Frisk!” I shout down to him. He is picking up his newspaper from the bottom of his driveway.
“Hailey, please stop with all that yelling,” he says. “You are going to wake up the whole neighborhood.”
“But, Mr. Frisk, I am going to be in a wedding today.” I am still yelling.
“Oh.” Mr. Frisk looks a little bit interested in this news. “Well, have fun. And make sure you behave.”
“I will.”
“What kind of dress will I wear?” Maybelle asks. She is pointing her wand right at her own self. And whipping up all kinds of fab, fab, fabulous dresses. The first one is yellow. Then one is red. Then one is pink.
“You are going to wear the same dress as me,” I tell her. “That way me and you will be twins.” I have always wanted to be a twin with someone. But not Cousin Angela. I am thinking maybe I can pretend Addie Jokobeck is my twin. Maybe she will go along with it. I think that story could really catch on.
Maybelle points her wand. And then she is wearing the same dress as me!
“You look very beautiful,” I tell her. Then I turn toward the door. “Mom!” I yell.
“MOM, COME IN HERE RIGHT NOW! IT IS TIME TO PUT MY DRESS ON.”
My mom comes running in. She is wearing rollers in her hair.
“Yes, Hailey,” she says. “But first you have to take a bath.”
Ugh. I hate baths. But I take one so I can get this show on the road. After my bath I have to get my hair done in a very fancy way of a French braid. Then Kaitlyn paints my nails a very beautiful pink. And I even get to wear one swipe of lip gloss!
And then it is finally time to put on that dress.
It is just perfect like I remember.
The only thing is that those shoes are still very boring. But I am thinking there is still one way to maybe make them have some sparkles. And that is with my special glitter pen!
But I cannot paint those shoes right now. And that is because my dad is around. And my mom. And Kaitlyn.
“What are you doing with that glitter pen, Hailey?” Maybelle is asking me. Maybelle thinks she is so smart. On account of that she gave herself some beautiful glitter shoes.
“That is for me to know and you to find out.” I put that glitter pen right in my special wedding purse. And then it is time to leave for the wedding!
The wedding is going to be in a very big church.
And everyone that is in the wedding is allowed to go right into the back. Into a special room. But only if you are a VIP. That stands for Very Important Person. And I am one of them.
“Hello, Hailey,” Cousin Angela says. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“I counted Cousin Harold’s freckles, and he has eleventy seventy-five of them.”
I do a big sigh. Cousin Angela does not know how to count so well.
Then there is a big commotion that is coming from the back of the room. Something is happening with Cousin Genevieve’s veil. She has lost that veil! All the grown-ups are getting very upset about this.
They are not paying any attention to me.
So this is the perfect time to make my shoes all very sparkly!
I sit down in a corner. And I pull those plain white shoes right off my feet.
“Do you think I should make my socks sparkly, too?” I ask Maybelle. Then I wiggle my toes. I am wearing very fancy lacy socks.
“I think that might be going too far,” Maybelle says.
“I think you might be right.”
I get to work coloring in those shoes. They are looking very beautiful and sparkly. I put them back on.
“Look at those sparkles!” I say to Maybelle. “They look very dashing!”
“Gorgeous!” Maybelle says.
Finally the grown-ups find Cousin Genevieve’s veil! Somehow it was behind a big box. They brush some dust off it.
Then it is time to finally walk down the aisle. Just like we practiced last night after that disaster of a dinner.
Cousin Angela and I stand at the end of the aisle.
We are holding our baskets of rose petals, ready to go.
“Hey,” Cousin Angela says. She is looking down at my shoes. “Why are your shoes all sparkly?”
“I colored them sparkly,” I say. “With a sparkly marker. So it is all settled. Your shoes are not sparkly, like you wanted. And my shoes are sparkly. That is called compromising.”
But Cousin Angela does not look happy. Her face is looking very stormy. She is looking like I do right before it is time to have a good long fit.
“I WANT SPARKLY SHOES!” Cousin Angela screams.
I am shocked by this news. “But you said you hate sparkles. Remember?” I pat her on the head. “Now come on, time to walk down the aisle and get this wedding going.”
“NO!” she shrieks. “I want sparkles right now!”
“Maybelle,” I whisper. “Please give Cousin Angela some sparkly shoes.” I am hoping that this wedding will not be a big wreck. But Maybelle does not want to use her magic for good. So she points her wand out. And when she pulls it back, Cousin Angela’s shoes are bright orange!
“I HATE ORANGE!” Cousin Angela screams.
I take her hand. “Come on,” I say. “It is time to walk down the aisle. We will talk about this later.”
“NO!”
One of the church ladies is whispering right to us. “Girls,” she says. “Start to walk, please.”
I start to walk. And finally so does Cousin Angela.
Everyone in the seats is watching us. It is like being a very famous movie star. I give my best smile. There is Grandma Hansen. And Aunt Denise. And my mom and dad and Kaitlyn. They are taking lots of pictures of me.
I am having a very fun time at this wedding, it turns out.
But then all of a sudden, everyone in the audience is not looking so happy. They are looking very worried.
“THESE SHOES ARE UGLY!” Cousin Angela yells. Then she sits right down in the aisle. And she kicks her legs right up in the air. One of her orange shoes goes up, up, up! And it plops down right on Cousin Harold’s head.
“Ow!” Cousin Harold says. Wow. I hope he does not have a scrape on his head. I do not like blood. It makes me very nervous.
“Come on, honey,” Aunt Denise says. She is getting out of her seat. She is putting her hand out to Cousin Angela. “Time to walk down the aisle like a good flower girl.”
“NO!” Cousin Angela screams. She is pulling off her other shoe. Then she throws it right at Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn catches it.
“Good catch, Kaitlyn!” I say. But she does not smile. Or give me a high five. She just looks very upset. So does my mom. And my dad. And everyone else that is watching. The wonderful music is even stopping. This is definitely not going according to plan.
I decide it is time to save this wedding. “Come on,” I say to Cousin Angela. “Chop, chop!”
But Cousin Angela is still yelling and screaming. “I AM QUITTING THIS WEDDING!”
“Haha,” Aunt Denise says. She is giving a weird laugh. “Come on, Angela.” She picks Cousin Angela up and puts her right over her shoulder like a big sack of potatoes! Then she takes her back into the VIP room. Wow. This wedding is the biggest disaster I ever saw.
“Hailey,” Maybelle whispers. “You are the flower girl now! The only one!”
I gasp. She is right! I am the only flower girl. In sparkly shoes. Those two things have always been my dreams! Everyone is looking at me. And that wonderful music starts right up again.
So I start to walk down the aisle. Exactly like I practiced. And it is very fun! I throw those petals right down. And it is a wonderful feeling being the only flower girl!
• • •
The next part of that wedding is very boring. A lot of talking. And a lot of standing. My legs are hurting, and I am trying not to get too fidgety.
But then we get to have a very big dinner. And lots of cake.
And there is a DJ playing lots of music. So I do not even need to bring my bongo drums in from the car. I am dancing my butt off. So is Kaitlyn. So is Maybelle. Even my mom and dad are dance, dance, dancing the night away.
Cousin Angela does not get to come back to that wedding. I think she is having too much of a very big fit.
I am just getting ready to get another very big piece of cake with strawberries on it when Mr. Tuttle shows up.
“Mr. Tuttle!” I say. “You cannot come to weddings!”
“It is Saturday,” Mr. Tuttle says. “The day Maybelle is supposed to be coming back to the castle. I already told you.”
“Yes, well, Maybelle is a big mess with her magic, remember?” I do not think Mr. Tuttle has a good memory. Probably because he is a little bit old.
Maybelle gives a big nod. “Yes, I am a horrible mess,” she says.
“So far she has already made someone’s shoes orange,” I tell Mr. Tuttle. “This wedding was ruined because of her. Now excuse me, please, but it is time for me to get some more cake.” I
am keeping an eye on that cake. Because it looks like it might be running out. That is because Cousin Harold has eaten four whole pieces. That is called taking more than your share.
“Wait a minute, please, Hailey,” Mr. Tuttle says. He is looking down at his clipboard. “Maybelle can stay here.”
“Yay!” I say.
“Yay!” Maybelle says.
“But she is going to need some help with her magic,” Mr. Tuttle says.
“I will help her. I am very good at helping. One time I even got student of the month for most helpful.” That is not exactly true. But it is true that I should have gotten it. I would probably be in second place. And that does count. Second place is a good place to be.
“She needs more help than you can give her,” Mr. Tuttle says.
“No, I don’t,” Maybelle says. “Hailey can help me.”
“No,” Mr. Tuttle says. “You need another sprite to help you.”
“Another sprite?” I ask him. I am getting a very weird feeling in my stomach. A very scared and nervous one.
And then, all of a sudden, there is another sprite here! She is small and has sparkly green wings and long brown hair.
“Hello,” she says. “I am Poppy.”
“Two sprites?” I ask. I am not sure exactly how I am going to be able to handle this…
Thanks to all the usual suspects—Alyssa Henkin, Rebecca Fraser, Aubrey Poole, Kristin Zelazko, Dominique Raccah, Kelly Barrales-Saylor, and everyone else at Sourcebooks for being so amazing.
Lauren Barnholdt loves reading, writing, and anything pink and sparkly. She’s never had a magic sprite, but she does have four guinea pigs. She lives outside Boston with her husband. Visit her website and say hello at www.laurenbarnholdt.com.
Suzanne Beaky grew up in Gahanna, Ohio, and studied illustration at Columbus College of Art and Design. Her expressive illustrations are commissioned by children’s book, magazine, and educational publishers worldwide. She and her husband live in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, with their cats who insist on sitting in her lap while she works and often step in her paint.