was coming up with all sorts of games for the guests to play and awarding candy bars to the winners, whether young or old. They’d played Bobbing for Oreos, Pin the Lips on the Fashion Magazine Model, and elimination rounds of the card game Spit; and they’d had blindfolded potato chip taste tests. Then they’d played the killer game of Sardines, which had just ended. Meanwhile there was an ongoing Lake-family trivia quiz, with Stevie’s dad and Uncle Chester making up questions and keeping score. Looking around the loud, jammed kitchen, Stevie, for one, was sure that the snowstorm had been a blessing in disguise.
The evening flew by, and soon it was time for the birthday cake. They had to serve it before the guests started to trickle away. Unfortunately, “it”—a three-tiered lemon cake with vanilla icing—was miles away, stranded with the caterer. Stevie noticed her mother and Aunt Lila holding a whispered consultation. “Listen,” Stevie told them, “just get everyone out of here for a few minutes, turn out the lights, and get ready to sing. I’ll take care of the rest.”
The women looked doubtful but followed Stevie’s instructions, shooing everyone out of the kitchen to the living room. Stevie dashed around for a few minutes getting organized. Then she found a match and hastily lit the candles. In the dark hush, she paraded out and, with much flair, presented the “cake”: sixteen Twinkies, each with a candle stuck in the middle, carefully arranged on Aunt Lila’s best silver tray.
The whole party, including Angie, burst into applause at the sight of the improvised cake. Stevie inhaled loudly and began to sing. “Happy birthday to you, happy—”
One of the band members came forward, holding a hand up. “Stevie, you really should leave the singing to the experts,” he said. The rest of the band gathered around. “Okay, guys—one, two, three!”
Stevie noticed Angie’s jaw drop. Each of the boys hadfound a makeshift instrument. One held a kazoo, one had Uncle Chester’s ukelele, and there was a makeshift percussion section of pots and wooden spoons. They launched into an enthusiastic version of the song and then did a reprise, yelling, “Everybody join in!”
Beaming with delight, Angie blew out all of the candles on her first try.
“Hey, do you guys know ‘When Johnnie Comes Marching Home’?” Chad asked.
“Yeah, that’s a great American Revolution song!” Stevie cried.
“Uh, that would be a great
Civil War
song,” Chad murmured. Stevie put an arm over her forehead and pretended to swoon.
Meanwhile, after a quick consultation, the band struck up the tune. The singing was so much fun that they played another—and another—until all the guests joined the impromptu sing-along. They did songs from musicals like
Oklahoma!
and
Guys and Dolls
, they did popular songs from the radio, and they even threw in a few Christmas carols in honor of the weather.
Angie joined right in, belting with the best of them. Stevie was overjoyed. Her cousin had finally lost her airs and settled back into her old self. And, Stevie had to admit, she’d been completely wrong about Angie’s friends. Maybe the cheerleaders would have been morestandoffish at an elegant party, but today they had been nothing but fun—not to mention the fact that they’d completely distracted Chad and Alex from doing anything else besides following them around.
As she was musing on the funny way the day had turned out, the music stopped. Stevie looked up expectantly, thinking someone would request another song. Instead, Angie and the three cheerleaders came forward. “Give me an
S
! Give me a
T
! Give me an
E
! Give me a
V
! Give me an
I
! Give me an
E
! What does it spell?” Angie yelled.
“Stevie!” the girls responded. In the space that they had, the four of them did a dance movement that ended in a split. Then they jumped up and surrounded Stevie.
“Three cheers for my cousin Stevie!” Angie yelled.
As the
The evening flew by, and soon it was time for the birthday cake. They had to serve it before the guests started to trickle away. Unfortunately, “it”—a three-tiered lemon cake with vanilla icing—was miles away, stranded with the caterer. Stevie noticed her mother and Aunt Lila holding a whispered consultation. “Listen,” Stevie told them, “just get everyone out of here for a few minutes, turn out the lights, and get ready to sing. I’ll take care of the rest.”
The women looked doubtful but followed Stevie’s instructions, shooing everyone out of the kitchen to the living room. Stevie dashed around for a few minutes getting organized. Then she found a match and hastily lit the candles. In the dark hush, she paraded out and, with much flair, presented the “cake”: sixteen Twinkies, each with a candle stuck in the middle, carefully arranged on Aunt Lila’s best silver tray.
The whole party, including Angie, burst into applause at the sight of the improvised cake. Stevie inhaled loudly and began to sing. “Happy birthday to you, happy—”
One of the band members came forward, holding a hand up. “Stevie, you really should leave the singing to the experts,” he said. The rest of the band gathered around. “Okay, guys—one, two, three!”
Stevie noticed Angie’s jaw drop. Each of the boys hadfound a makeshift instrument. One held a kazoo, one had Uncle Chester’s ukelele, and there was a makeshift percussion section of pots and wooden spoons. They launched into an enthusiastic version of the song and then did a reprise, yelling, “Everybody join in!”
Beaming with delight, Angie blew out all of the candles on her first try.
“Hey, do you guys know ‘When Johnnie Comes Marching Home’?” Chad asked.
“Yeah, that’s a great American Revolution song!” Stevie cried.
“Uh, that would be a great
Civil War
song,” Chad murmured. Stevie put an arm over her forehead and pretended to swoon.
Meanwhile, after a quick consultation, the band struck up the tune. The singing was so much fun that they played another—and another—until all the guests joined the impromptu sing-along. They did songs from musicals like
Oklahoma!
and
Guys and Dolls
, they did popular songs from the radio, and they even threw in a few Christmas carols in honor of the weather.
Angie joined right in, belting with the best of them. Stevie was overjoyed. Her cousin had finally lost her airs and settled back into her old self. And, Stevie had to admit, she’d been completely wrong about Angie’s friends. Maybe the cheerleaders would have been morestandoffish at an elegant party, but today they had been nothing but fun—not to mention the fact that they’d completely distracted Chad and Alex from doing anything else besides following them around.
As she was musing on the funny way the day had turned out, the music stopped. Stevie looked up expectantly, thinking someone would request another song. Instead, Angie and the three cheerleaders came forward. “Give me an
S
! Give me a
T
! Give me an
E
! Give me a
V
! Give me an
I
! Give me an
E
! What does it spell?” Angie yelled.
“Stevie!” the girls responded. In the space that they had, the four of them did a dance movement that ended in a split. Then they jumped up and surrounded Stevie.
“Three cheers for my cousin Stevie!” Angie yelled.
As the
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