an impromptu sewing room. With race car wallpaper. “Look at you two! Like a couple of princesses!”
Catie looked down at herself in her flower girl dress,which was exactly like mine, only in miniature, with just slightly less décolleté, and said, “D’you really think so?” looking extremely pleased with herself.
“I definitely think so,” Jason’s grandmother said. Mrs. Lee, Kitty’s seamstress, studied us both, then came up to me and said, grasping the darts beneath my armpits, “It needs to be taken in a little here.”
“Yes,” Kitty said, nodding. “Just a little.”
Pete, who was tugging uncomfortably on his bow tie—dyed the same pink as our dresses—let out a snort. I looked down and saw that Mrs. Lee was talking about my boob area, where the dress was sagging a little. That’s because when she’d first fitted me, I hadn’t had my new, correctly fitting bra, so I’d been all over the place. Now I was correctly proportioned—but the dress wasn’t.
“Shut up, Pete,” I said. “Will you be able to do it in time?” I asked Mrs. Lee, worriedly.
“Oh, of course,” Mrs. Lee said. “I can do this in a jiffy.” To Catie, she said, “Yours is perfect. You can take it off now.” She looked at Pete and Robbie and said in a less friendly voice, “You, too.”
The boys whooped and began stripping off their cummerbunds and jackets, almost before they even left the hallway for the bathroom, which was the boys’ dressing room for the day.
But Catie looked about as ready to take off that dress as she was to eat a dirt sandwich.
“What’s YOUR dress going to be like, Mrs. Hollenbach?” she asked Jason’s grandmother.
“Call me Kitty, dear,” Kitty said with a laugh. She’d asked all of us to call her by her first name, especially now that she was going to be our grandmother. But the littler kids kept forgetting.
“It’s not as pretty as yours,” Kitty assured us. “But I hope Emile will like it.”
“He will,” Catie assured her. “He’s warm for your form.”
“Catie!” I cried, shocked.
But Kitty and Mrs. Lee were laughing.
“Well,” Catie said, looking up at me with a defensive expression on her face. “That’s what Jason said. I HEARD him.”
“Speaking of Jason,” Kitty said, “where IS that boy? We have to make sure his tuxedo fits, too.”
“Here I am, Grandma.” Jason appeared in the doorway, spooning cereal into his mouth from a salad bowl. Not a bowl you’d put a single serving of salad in. But the actual wooden salad bowl itself, into which he’d poured an entire box of Honey Nut Cheerios and about a gallon of milk, his usual after-school snack.
“Oh, Jason,” Kitty said with a sigh when she saw this. “What’s your mother going to say when your supper’s spoiled?”
“I’ll be hungry again by dinnertime,” Jason said with a shrug.
Kitty, who shared Jason’s bright blue eyes and slender frame, but not his height or overlong dark hair—hers was cut into a pageboy, as pure white as Grandpa’s hair,which is why they made such a cute couple, despite what Mom might think—shook her head.
“Must be nice, right, Stephanie?” she said with a wink at me. “To be able to eat like a horse and never gain an ounce?”
I didn’t say what I wanted to, which was, “Yeah, but at least we don’t look like one,” meaning a horse, meaning Jason.
But I didn’t think his grandmother would appreciate this little witticism. Though it would have served Jason right for being so mean to me in school all day.
Mrs. Lee made Jason go into the bathroom to change into his tuxedo. When he came out, followed by Pete and Robbie, who were back in their civilian clothes, he was still eating from the salad bowl.
Even so, seeing him in a tuxedo gave me something like an electric shock. Because he looked so handsome in it. Like James Bond, or somebody. If James Bond had ever eaten cereal out of a salad bowl.
“Dude,” Pete was saying, gazing up at Jason,
Catie looked down at herself in her flower girl dress,which was exactly like mine, only in miniature, with just slightly less décolleté, and said, “D’you really think so?” looking extremely pleased with herself.
“I definitely think so,” Jason’s grandmother said. Mrs. Lee, Kitty’s seamstress, studied us both, then came up to me and said, grasping the darts beneath my armpits, “It needs to be taken in a little here.”
“Yes,” Kitty said, nodding. “Just a little.”
Pete, who was tugging uncomfortably on his bow tie—dyed the same pink as our dresses—let out a snort. I looked down and saw that Mrs. Lee was talking about my boob area, where the dress was sagging a little. That’s because when she’d first fitted me, I hadn’t had my new, correctly fitting bra, so I’d been all over the place. Now I was correctly proportioned—but the dress wasn’t.
“Shut up, Pete,” I said. “Will you be able to do it in time?” I asked Mrs. Lee, worriedly.
“Oh, of course,” Mrs. Lee said. “I can do this in a jiffy.” To Catie, she said, “Yours is perfect. You can take it off now.” She looked at Pete and Robbie and said in a less friendly voice, “You, too.”
The boys whooped and began stripping off their cummerbunds and jackets, almost before they even left the hallway for the bathroom, which was the boys’ dressing room for the day.
But Catie looked about as ready to take off that dress as she was to eat a dirt sandwich.
“What’s YOUR dress going to be like, Mrs. Hollenbach?” she asked Jason’s grandmother.
“Call me Kitty, dear,” Kitty said with a laugh. She’d asked all of us to call her by her first name, especially now that she was going to be our grandmother. But the littler kids kept forgetting.
“It’s not as pretty as yours,” Kitty assured us. “But I hope Emile will like it.”
“He will,” Catie assured her. “He’s warm for your form.”
“Catie!” I cried, shocked.
But Kitty and Mrs. Lee were laughing.
“Well,” Catie said, looking up at me with a defensive expression on her face. “That’s what Jason said. I HEARD him.”
“Speaking of Jason,” Kitty said, “where IS that boy? We have to make sure his tuxedo fits, too.”
“Here I am, Grandma.” Jason appeared in the doorway, spooning cereal into his mouth from a salad bowl. Not a bowl you’d put a single serving of salad in. But the actual wooden salad bowl itself, into which he’d poured an entire box of Honey Nut Cheerios and about a gallon of milk, his usual after-school snack.
“Oh, Jason,” Kitty said with a sigh when she saw this. “What’s your mother going to say when your supper’s spoiled?”
“I’ll be hungry again by dinnertime,” Jason said with a shrug.
Kitty, who shared Jason’s bright blue eyes and slender frame, but not his height or overlong dark hair—hers was cut into a pageboy, as pure white as Grandpa’s hair,which is why they made such a cute couple, despite what Mom might think—shook her head.
“Must be nice, right, Stephanie?” she said with a wink at me. “To be able to eat like a horse and never gain an ounce?”
I didn’t say what I wanted to, which was, “Yeah, but at least we don’t look like one,” meaning a horse, meaning Jason.
But I didn’t think his grandmother would appreciate this little witticism. Though it would have served Jason right for being so mean to me in school all day.
Mrs. Lee made Jason go into the bathroom to change into his tuxedo. When he came out, followed by Pete and Robbie, who were back in their civilian clothes, he was still eating from the salad bowl.
Even so, seeing him in a tuxedo gave me something like an electric shock. Because he looked so handsome in it. Like James Bond, or somebody. If James Bond had ever eaten cereal out of a salad bowl.
“Dude,” Pete was saying, gazing up at Jason,
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