All That Glitters (From the Files of Madison Finn, 20) by Laura Dower

into her mouth, gnawing on the newly manicured, gorgeous, makeover nails. She wasn’t used to the polish, and Madison could tell she was worlds away.
    How embarrassing, Madison thought. This is a disaster.
    At least dinner was on its way. After the waiter brought their food, the group ate their peppered swordfish and basil chicken and vegetarian risotto—and did a lot more chewing than talking. Waiters also brought side dishes of baby corn; sliced tomatoes sprinkled with cilantro, and roasted Jerusalem artichokes, which Madison thought tasted more like little potatoes than anything else. The friends poked forks into one another’s food, tasting as much as they possibly could. Although Aimee and Madison both had their moments of being picky eaters, they tried all the food on the table. Lindsay was the only one of them who didn’t eat very much. She tasted some chicken and put her fork back down.
    “Everything really is so…well…what’s the word I’m looking for?” Mrs. Frost said, attempting to make a little play on words on the name of the establishment. “Delicious?”
    “Ha-ha,” Aimee and Fiona giggled politely. “Sure thing,” they said in unison.
    As they finished the meal, an old cuckoo clock chimed exactly nine times.
    “Nine? It’s already nine?” Lindsay said. “I really thought he might come.”
    “Look, Lindsay, don’t give up. He may still show up,” Mrs. Frost said, trying to make even more excuses for her estranged husband. “I have my cell phone here, so let me check again. Maybe he just got stuck in traffic.”
    Lindsay looked forlorn.
    “Stuck in traffic for almost two hours?” Lindsay asked.
    No one said anything.
    Then Aunt Mimi cleared her throat. “Enough of this talk,” she said assertively. “I think what this group of gals needs is an extra-extra-large dose of dark chocolate. What do you say, Lindsay? It’s your favorite.”
    Uncharacteristically, a deflated Lindsay shook her head.
    “No, thanks,” she said.
    “No?” Aunt Mimi gasped. “Hmph! We’ll see about that.” She crooked a finger and signaled to the server. From across the restaurant he nodded. Then he disappeared into the back.
    Fiona and Aimee tried to kick Madison under the table, but they booted Mrs. Frost by mistake instead.
    “Ouch!” Mrs. Frost exclaimed. Then she broke into a smile. “Was that your foot, Lindsay?”
    “Yeah, who’s playing soccer under the table?” Aimee asked. “Fiona?”
    “Very funny, Aim,” Fiona said.
    Everyone laughed. But Lindsay didn’t even bat an eyelash. She was still spacing out when the waiter—or when five waiters emerged from the kitchen carrying a large, brown, frosted cake covered with sparklers.
    “Happy bertday to eww, happy bertday to eww.” The waiters sang in a funny accent. Aunt Mimi leaned over to Madison. “This place is famous for its birthday surprises,” she whispered. “Isn’t this just de-lish?”
    Aimee and Fiona had their eyes locked on the waiters and the cake, but Madison was looking at Lindsay. Her friend still looked so sad. She wasn’t even watching the cake or the waiters. She was still staring at the front door of the restaurant.
    She was still waiting for Mr. Frost to appear.
    Aunt Mimi decided to get the cake wrapped to go. She said they could eat it for breakfast. Fiona loved that idea.
    “Please don’t be sad,” Madison said to Lindsay. “Everything will work out. It always does. Gramma Helen tells me that, and she’s usually right about stuff.”
    “Well, she never met my dad,” Lindsay grumbled.
    Mrs. Frost made an uncomfortable face. “Lindsay, I think you need to stop this. I know it’s your birthday, and I know you’re disappointed, but your father…”
    Aunt Mimi stood up, and Madison knew exactly why; she wanted to change the subject. Aimee and Fiona knew it, too. Madison shot them both a glance. They had to do something to cheer Lindsay up.
    The waiters brought the check. Aunt Mimi paid, and they all