deviled eggs and my dad is going to grill corn on the cob. Hey, you know what, you guys?” Olivia turned to Ruby and Flora. “I think we should be in charge of games for all the kids.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” said Min.
“Hey, there she is,” said Ruby suddenly in a loud whisper. At that moment, the door to Needle and Thread opened and in walked Mrs. DuVane, followed by Nikki.
“Why, look, Nicolette,” said Mrs. DuVane. “Here are your friends. Right where we left them last week.”
Olivia looked at Nikki, whose face did not display the expression of a person greeting old friends. In fact, she looked, Olivia thought, like a caged bird just waiting for her owner to mistakenly leave the door open so she could escape.
But Mrs. DuVane was here for the class, which meant Nikki was stuck in Needle and Thread for another hour. Which meant that Olivia, Ruby, and Flora were stuck with Nikki.
When none of the girls spoke, Mrs. DuVane hesitated, then said, “Well, you have fun now!”
“We didn’t have fun the first time,” muttered Nikki.
“What was that?” asked Mrs. DuVane.
“She
said
,” spoke up Olivia loudly, “that we di —”
“Good afternoon, Mrs. DuVane,” said Gigi then. “Come join us. Were you able to practice at home this week?”
Gigi whisked Mrs. DuVane toward the back of the store.
In the front, Nikki glowered at Ruby, Olivia, and Flora. Ruby, Olivia, and Flora looked at one another.
“You know, I was thinking,” said Flora finally. “About last week. I was thinking — now don’t take this the wrong way —”
Uh-oh, thought Ruby.
“— that maybe you know how to sew a little bit, but you only know the basics, like how to sew a straight seam or something. Maybe you haven’t made pillows or quilts or —”
“Flora’s really good at sewing,” interrupted Olivia loyally.
“Whoopee,” said Nikki.
“Look. Seriously,” said Flora. “I can show you how to make a patchwork pillow. It’s easy.”
“Look. Seriously,” said Nikki. “I don’t care.”
But Flora was already off in search of supplies. She rummaged through the scrap bin by Mary Woolsey’s work space and returned to the front of the store with a handful of calico squares. She dropped them on the coffee table and left again. When she returned the second time, she was carrying a pair of scissors, a plastic square, a package of needles, and a spool of thread. “Here,” said Flora. “This is all you need to make a patchwork pillow. And you can have all these things. For free. Except the scissors. Those belong to my grandmother.”
Nikki, who had sat down on one of the couches, now stood up. “I am not,” she said fiercely, “a charity case.”
“I didn’t mean —” Flora started to say.
But Olivia had jumped to her feet, too. “She’s just being nice to you, Nikki.”
“I don’t need anyone to be nice to me. I don’t even want to be here.”
“Well, don’t take it out on us,” said Flora.
“Yeah, we didn’t ask you to come,” added Ruby. “And anyway, some of us wish we weren’t here, either. I’d rather be in a dance class.”
“Are you
still
talking about that?” exclaimed Nikki. “That’s what you were babbling about last week. If you want to take a class so badly, then go find one instead of sitting here complaining all day.”
Ruby didn’t say anything. Instead, she crossed her arms and turned around on the couch, her back to Nikki. So Nikki crossed her arms and turned her back, and then Olivia and Flora did the same, even though they were only mad at Nikki, not at each other — although Olivia finally had to admit that she was also mad at herself, which made her feel very crabby indeed.
Ruby stood at the front door of Needle and Thread and looked outside at the wet street. Rain had fallen all morning. The store, brighter than usual on this dark day, smelled of wet pavement and also of wet dog, since Mr. Pennington had stopped by the store with Jacques and was
“That’s a wonderful idea,” said Min.
“Hey, there she is,” said Ruby suddenly in a loud whisper. At that moment, the door to Needle and Thread opened and in walked Mrs. DuVane, followed by Nikki.
“Why, look, Nicolette,” said Mrs. DuVane. “Here are your friends. Right where we left them last week.”
Olivia looked at Nikki, whose face did not display the expression of a person greeting old friends. In fact, she looked, Olivia thought, like a caged bird just waiting for her owner to mistakenly leave the door open so she could escape.
But Mrs. DuVane was here for the class, which meant Nikki was stuck in Needle and Thread for another hour. Which meant that Olivia, Ruby, and Flora were stuck with Nikki.
When none of the girls spoke, Mrs. DuVane hesitated, then said, “Well, you have fun now!”
“We didn’t have fun the first time,” muttered Nikki.
“What was that?” asked Mrs. DuVane.
“She
said
,” spoke up Olivia loudly, “that we di —”
“Good afternoon, Mrs. DuVane,” said Gigi then. “Come join us. Were you able to practice at home this week?”
Gigi whisked Mrs. DuVane toward the back of the store.
In the front, Nikki glowered at Ruby, Olivia, and Flora. Ruby, Olivia, and Flora looked at one another.
“You know, I was thinking,” said Flora finally. “About last week. I was thinking — now don’t take this the wrong way —”
Uh-oh, thought Ruby.
“— that maybe you know how to sew a little bit, but you only know the basics, like how to sew a straight seam or something. Maybe you haven’t made pillows or quilts or —”
“Flora’s really good at sewing,” interrupted Olivia loyally.
“Whoopee,” said Nikki.
“Look. Seriously,” said Flora. “I can show you how to make a patchwork pillow. It’s easy.”
“Look. Seriously,” said Nikki. “I don’t care.”
But Flora was already off in search of supplies. She rummaged through the scrap bin by Mary Woolsey’s work space and returned to the front of the store with a handful of calico squares. She dropped them on the coffee table and left again. When she returned the second time, she was carrying a pair of scissors, a plastic square, a package of needles, and a spool of thread. “Here,” said Flora. “This is all you need to make a patchwork pillow. And you can have all these things. For free. Except the scissors. Those belong to my grandmother.”
Nikki, who had sat down on one of the couches, now stood up. “I am not,” she said fiercely, “a charity case.”
“I didn’t mean —” Flora started to say.
But Olivia had jumped to her feet, too. “She’s just being nice to you, Nikki.”
“I don’t need anyone to be nice to me. I don’t even want to be here.”
“Well, don’t take it out on us,” said Flora.
“Yeah, we didn’t ask you to come,” added Ruby. “And anyway, some of us wish we weren’t here, either. I’d rather be in a dance class.”
“Are you
still
talking about that?” exclaimed Nikki. “That’s what you were babbling about last week. If you want to take a class so badly, then go find one instead of sitting here complaining all day.”
Ruby didn’t say anything. Instead, she crossed her arms and turned around on the couch, her back to Nikki. So Nikki crossed her arms and turned her back, and then Olivia and Flora did the same, even though they were only mad at Nikki, not at each other — although Olivia finally had to admit that she was also mad at herself, which made her feel very crabby indeed.
Ruby stood at the front door of Needle and Thread and looked outside at the wet street. Rain had fallen all morning. The store, brighter than usual on this dark day, smelled of wet pavement and also of wet dog, since Mr. Pennington had stopped by the store with Jacques and was
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