Blaire Page 4

  Cat scurried up the steps Dad recently built and found the note Beckett and Gabe had tacked to one of the beams. She leaned over the railing and began to read:

  “Ha ha ha, sorry for the fakeout.

  We’ll make it up to you with some deli takeout.

  Come see the chickens, they’re standing guard.

  Over a gift that waits for you in their yard.”

  Cat peered down at us and narrowed her eyes. “Did you name another chicken after me?”

  I giggled. “Maybe.”

  As we walked past the herb garden to the coop, I looked up to find Gabe watching from a second-floor window of the house. I flapped my arms like chicken wings. That was our signal for “Everything’s good.”

  When we got near the chicken coop, Dandelion and her friends clucked a symphony. It was like they knew what was happening and were thrilled to be part of it.

  But the note that was supposed to be taped to the coop gate wasn’t there. I looked at Beckett. Beckett looked at me and pinched his nose as if he was smelling something terrible. That was our signal for “We’ve got a problem!”

  Uh-oh.

  Cat opened the gate and searched the coop. “I’m assuming there’s another note in here somewhere. Please don’t tell me I have to look under the chickens.”

  “There it is!” cried Beckett, pointing to the white slip of paper lying on the ground in the corner of Penny and Dash’s pen. “The wind must have blown it off the coop.”

  Oh, good.

  But as soon as Cat approached the pen, Dash trotted over to greet her. That’s when he noticed the paper, too. Now it was a race.

  “Get it before Dash does!” I called to Cat as she scrambled through the gate and into the pen.

  “Is this part of the game?” Cat called as she lunged at the paper. But Dash was faster, and in a second, the goat had the note in his mouth.

  “Drop it!” I said as I tried to pull the paper out of Dash’s mouth. I managed to rip a corner of it away from him, but he got most of it. He chewed slowly and then swallowed.

  “Maaaaah!” Dash said. It sounded like “Delicious!”

  “Bad goat,” Cat said, trying not to laugh. She looked over my shoulder as I straightened out the slip of paper. All that was left was the first line of the clue.

  “Okay, so we had to prank you again,” I read aloud.

  “Good prank,” Cat said.

  “Beckett, what did the rest say?” I whispered.

  “I don’t remember,” he whispered back. Then he pinched his nose again.

  I tried to think, but my mind was blank. All I could remember was that we had to get Cat to the gazebo for her next clue. We couldn’t give up the game and just tell her where to go next. It would ruin the magic.

  I am the proposal assistant, I told myself. I will make this work.

  “Okay, so we had to prank you again,” I repeated. “We … we promise … this will, um … someday end,” I stammered. “At the gazebo by the creek …”

  Oh no. What rhymes with creek?

  “You’ll see this gift and out you’ll freak!” Beckett finished.

  Cat burst out laughing. “Nice save. To the gazebo!”

  Of course, the game didn’t end at the gazebo. There was another note sending her to one of the vegetable fields. And in the vegetable field, taped to a marker flag, there was a poem telling her to go to the porch of the house.

  “I know where all this is headed,” said Cat.

  “You do?” Beckett and I said together.

  “The restaurant, right?” she continued. “An extra large dish of crème brûlée?”

  “Let’s go see,” I said, relieved that she hadn’t figured it out.

  When we got to the porch, she read the last clue taped to the rocking chair:

  “You’ve made it this far, you’re almost there.

  We know we haven’t been totally fair.

  Come to the restaurant, your surprise does wait.

  Hurry, hurry, you don’t want to be late!”

  “Aha!” Cat exclaimed. “I was right.”

  Beckett and I followed Cat through the house and into the restaurant dining room. It looked like any other Sunday evening, with tables full of guests. But tonight, Grandpa, Mom and Dad were standing at the far end of the room, in front of the French doors that led to the patio. My heart was pounding as Cat walked over to my parents. I was nervous. I could only imagine what Gabe was feeling on the other side of the doors.

  Cat hugged my parents and grandpa. “Maggie … Daniel …and Ben! Thank you … I …”

  “Not yet,” said Mom.

  “You have a little farther to go, ” Dad added.

  Cat tilted her head, confused, as Grandpa opened the patio doors.

  There, on the courtyard patio, were dozens of pictures of Gabe and Cat smiling, laughing, and holding hands. Thea and I had strung the photos on rainbow-striped ribbons and hung them so that they crisscrossed the patio. Strings of tiny, multicolored lights added a soft glow to the evening sky, which was turning pink and purple with the sunset.

  We had lined the stone tiles of the patio with luminarias that I’d made from the paper bags from Gabe’s favorite deli. Cat laughed when she saw them. “I hope Gabe wasn’t in charge of food for tonight.”

  “Follow the bags,” I told Cat.

  She did. When she got to the other side of the big oak tree, she gasped. There, in a circle of luminarias, were tiny white candles that spelled out: CAT, WILL YOU MARRY ME?

  Gabe stepped out from around the corner, looking so nervous, I was afraid he wouldn’t be able to speak. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he got down on one knee and pulled a small box out of his pocket.

  Cat took a step back. She didn’t say anything either.

  Aren’t people supposed to talk during a proposal? What if this wasn’t going like it was supposed to?!

  Then Cat rushed toward Gabe and threw her arms around him, saying, “Yes, yes, yes!”

  Mom and Dad and Grandpa and Beckett and I cheered.

  “I didn’t even have to do my speech!” Gabe laughed.

  “You said it all, with this.” Cat motioned to the photos, lights, candles, and lanterns.

  Gabe met my eyes and mouthed the words Thank you.

  “Good job, proposal assistant,” Mom whispered to me before she went to get the crème brûlée. “You created a totally unique setting for this incredible memory.”

  I looked at Beckett. He looked at me. We both started flapping our arms.

  The next morning, my tablet dinged before I even got out of bed.

  Thea: How did the proposal go last night?????

  Blaire: SHE SAID YES! It was super romantic.

  I added a GIF of a cute sheep holding a sign that read, WILL EWE MARRY ME?

  Thea: LOL! Yay! When’s the wedding?

  Blaire: Don’t know yet! They’ve only been engaged for, like, 12 hours.

  Thea: Oh, right.

  Thea: Sabrina, Amadi, and I are going to see Zoo Adventures 3 later today. Want to come?

  I hadn’t seen Sabrina or Amadi since Thea’s party, and I loved Zoo Adventures 1 and 2. I was about to type, I’m there, but I stopped. Nachos and cheese. That’s what we always eat at the movie theater. If I went, I couldn’t have any. After skipping last night’s crème brûlée, I wasn’t up for another reminder of what I was missing.

  Blaire: No thanks.

  I started typing more, to explain why I didn’t want to come, but nothing I wrote sounded right. It was too much to explain in a text anyway. Delete, delete, delete.

  Blaire: But maybe you can come over later and we can play with the animals?

  Thea: OMG yes! I’ll ask my mom.

  Blaire: Awesome! She’d better say yes!

  Later, when I went out to collect eggs, I saw Cat sitting in the porch swing. “Hey, bride,” I said.

  Cat jumped, and her phone flipped out of her hands. I caught it.

  “Sprout! You startled me!”

&nbs
p; “Sorry,” I said, handing her phone back to her. “You okay?”

  She nodded as I sat down next to her. But she didn’t look okay. “Aren’t you supposed to look happy after getting engaged?” I asked.

  “I just got off the phone with my brother,” Cat explained. “He was so excited about my news, but he had some news, too.” She took a deep breath. “He’s being deployed at the end of August. He doesn’t know when he’ll be back.”

  “Oh.” I sighed. I knew how hard it was for Cat to be so far from Lorenzo.

  “Ever since our dad died,” she continued, “I’ve always imagined Lorenzo walking me down the aisle at my wedding. But that would mean we’d have to get married …” She flipped to the calendar on her phone. “… eight weeks from now. I don’t mind doing it that soon, but there’s no way we’ll be able to make it work. Gabe has a huge family, and I’m sure any spot big enough for that many guests is already booked.”

  Cat and I sat in silence for a moment, listening to the chickens clucking, a mixer whirring in the kitchen, and Dad hammering in the barn.

  “Cat, wait!” I said, because I’d just had the best idea-spark in the history of idea-sparks. “You should get married here! At Pleasant View! In the new barn!” I jumped off the swing.

  Cat’s face lit up brighter than all those candles at her proposal. “That would be perfect!” Then that brightness vanished. “But there’s so much work left to do on the barn, there’s no way it’ll be ready before Lorenzo leaves.”

  “Not if Dad keeps working alone,” I said. “But I could help him. Every day. And we could ask Gabe. And Grandpa. And—”

  Wait a sec! If Cat got married in the barn this summer, her wedding would be our first big event. The event that decided whether Grandpa stayed or moved out! Cat was like another grandkid to Grandpa. He’d never leave because of her wedding.

  “Cat, you have to get married in our barn,” I said. “Let me talk to Mom and Dad.”

  Cat’s eyes widened. “Seriously? It would mean so much to me to have the wedding here.”

  “You’re family,” I said.

  Cat smiled and gave me a hug. “True. You’re the closest thing I have to a little sister, Sprout, so there’s something I’d like to ask you. Would you be my junior bridesmaid?”

  A junior bridesmaid? I had no idea what I’d need to do, but I couldn’t wait to find out!

  I squealed, “Yes! Oh my gosh, yes!” I hugged Cat so tight, we both almost fell off the swing.

  By the end of August?” asked Dad.

  “As in, two months from now?” added Mom.

  We were sitting at a rickety round table in a room we call the Command Center. It used to be a small parlor on the first floor of the house, back when Grandpa was growing up, but over the years it turned into the Pleasant View Farm office.

  “I wish we had the budget to hire a professional crew,” Dad said. “But we don’t. And I can’t finish that fast by myself.”

  “You won’t have to,” I insisted. “I’ll help. And we could ask Gabe. And maybe Grandpa can …”

  “Maybe Grandpa can what?” asked Grandpa, coming into the room with a stack of papers.

  In one long breath I said, “Help finish the barn so Cat can get married there in late summer so her brother can give her away before he gets deployed.”

  At the mention of Cat, Grandpa smiled. “I’m really happy for Cat and Gabe,” he said.

  I knew there was a “but” coming.

  “But I want no part of the barn stuff,” Grandpa continued. “It’s a bad idea to begin with, and now you want to rush it? That sounds risky.”

  “Dad,” said Mom to Grandpa, “you’re assuming the worst. Cat’s worked so hard for us. I’d like to make this happen for her.” Then Mom turned to Dad. “Daniel, what do you think?”

  Dad looked at me. “Are you sure you want to give up so much of your summer, Blaire? It will be a big commitment. You won’t have much time with your friends.”

  Friends? Thea! “Thea could help, too!” I hadn’t mentioned any of this to Thea yet, but she had helped with the proposal, so of course she would help with the wedding. I’d just have to remember to ask her when she came over later. “We’ll do whatever needs to be done,” I promised.

  “Well, I’ve never regretted going after something challenging,” Dad said. “Let’s do it!”

  Grandpa sighed. “This family has always voted on big farm decisions, and it seems I’ve just lost this one.” He dropped his papers on the table and left.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Mom said. “He’ll come around. He always does.”

  I hoped she was right. I didn’t want Grandpa to be unhappy. I definitely didn’t want him to move out.

  “Blaire, I know you’re bursting to tell Cat the good news,” Mom said.

  I was!

  I found her in the greenhouse. “Caaaaaatttt!” I shouted, breathless from running as fast as I could. “It’s a yes!”

  Cat was shocked. “Are you kidding? Really?”

  “Really. So what kind of wedding do you want?” I asked, my heart still pounding. “During the day or at night? Fancy or casual?”

  Cat held up her hand. “Whoa! Slow down. I haven’t even told Gabe about this yet. That should be step one.”

  “Let me know when you’re ready for step two—because we have only two months to go.” I laughed. “Oh, and if you need some ideas for the wedding, I have, like, fifty billion of those.”

  “Of course you do,” Cat said, pulling out her phone to call Gabe. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  That afternoon, Mrs. Dimitriou’s car pulled into the driveway and out stepped Thea, wearing a big straw hat and holding a curved shepherd’s crook with a bow on it. Of course.

  “Can you believe I still have my Little Bo Peep costume from our first-grade class play?” Thea asked, waving the crook. “Now I’m ready for a day with Penny and Dash.”

  “You look awesome,” I said, “but there’s been a little change of plans. Instead of playing with the animals, we need to help my dad in the barn.” I filled her in on Cat and Lorenzo and everything.

  “This Bo Peep’s not much of a builder,” Thea said, taking off her hat. “Can we at least play with the animals afterward?”

  “Totally,” I said. “Come on, Dad’s waiting for us. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

  Two minutes later, we were standing in the barn with work gloves and safety goggles on.

  “I feel like a cyborg in these,” Thea said as she tapped the goggles, then turned to my dad. “Mis-ter Wil-son, we are wait-ing for your com-mand,” she said in a robot voice, moving her arms stiffly.

  Dad said, “Well, my official Barn Renovation Helpers, eventually we’ll be putting in insulation, electrical wiring, and new wood panels, but first, we have to cover the interior walls with housewrap.”

  “House rap?” Thea asked. “You mean like this?” She struck a hip-hop pose and launched into a rap. “I’m the new barn in town and I’m here to say—”

  Dad grinned. “No, Miss Thea-ter.” That was his nickname for my dramatic friend. “Housewrap,” he explained, “as in a very strong paper material that will keep out rain, wind, and cold. You girls will hold up a sheet, and I’ll staple it into the wall,” Dad told us. “The three of us can get the lower areas done in no time.”

  At first it was fun. Dad’s staple gun made a really satisfying sound every time a staple went into the wood, and the time went by quickly as Thea and I kept thinking up lyrics to the rap:

  I’m the new barn in town and I’m here to say,

  I’m gonna keep the rain and the cold away.

  You wanna have a wedding where it’s warm and cozy?

  Come party right here, everything will be rosy!

  But by the time we were on the second wall, Thea wasn’t rapping anymore. She had a grumpy scowl on her face, too. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “This is hard work,” she said, rubbing her shoulder. “Can we take a break and go see the anim
als?”

  “Definitely,” I said, “as soon as we finish this wall.”

  “That’s okay,” Dad said. “You girls have earned a break.”

  Thea said “Yes!” at the exact moment I said “No!”

  “Up to you,” Dad said, shrugging. “I’ll be right back.” He headed outside.

  “Blaire!” Thea said the moment he was gone. “We’ve been holding housewrap up forever. My arms feel like they’re going to fall off.”

  “I know,” I said, “but we have to finish the barn so we can have the best wedding ever, or Grandpa’s going to move out.”

  “Wait … what?!”

  I filled her in on what he said at Freddy’s.

  “But you don’t think he’ll actually—”

  “Shhhh!” I said, because I heard Dad coming back. “Just please keep helping me?” I whispered.

  Thea sighed. “Fine.” She helped me pick up another sheet of wrap.

  As we kept working, a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach grew stronger. This was only Day One of Operation Barn Renovation, and my crew was already getting cranky. Will we get this barn ready in time?

  A horse dressed up as a flower girl. Swipe. Robotic sunflowers that stick in the grass and sing “Here Comes the Bride.” Weird! (But also kind of awesome.) Save.

  It was the next morning, and I was sitting alone at the kitchen table with my tablet, searching for “unique farm wedding ideas.” Cat wasn’t ready to start brainstorming, but I was!

  Swipe. A bale of hay decked out with sparkly pillows and a cozy throw blanket. Cute! Save. I’d send the good ideas to Cat later.

  Grandpa poked his head in. “Ah, there you are! I have to help a guest; would you mind watching the front desk for a while?”

  “Can I bring my tablet?” I asked Grandpa. “I’m doing wedding research.”

  He frowned. “People come first, Blaire,” Grandpa said.

  “Yeah, okay.” I put my tablet in the basket on the kitchen counter where Mom made us all put our devices during meals, then headed down the hallway, plopping into the office chair behind the desk.

  I opened up our computer system to see if anyone was supposed to check in or out today.