Coming Up Roses (9 page)

The next morning, we drove to Petal Pushers to assemble the rose dress. On the way there, I got a small thrill of excitement. It was Homecoming Day! The town was already bustling with activity, and a huge sign hung over Fairfield Street read
WELCOME TO HOMECOMING WEEKEND!
In all the drama, I had lost sight of the fun that was in store.

I wasn’t going with Hamilton, but other than that, everything would be okay. As long as we got the dress done in time, and people bought corsages, what could go wrong?

Approximately four hundred roses later, Mom was finished. She had hired a seamstress to make a simple, floor-length strapless dress out of a light, yet sturdy fabric. And then Mom had completely covered the dress with roses.

I helped her place the rose-covered garment on the dress form. We stepped across the room and took our first real look at our creation.

Dad let out a low whistle. “I think you’ve outdone yourselves,” he said.

“Oh, Mom,” I breathed. “It’s incredible.”

“It is,” she said in a hushed voice.

It was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen, covered in velvety soft, red buds. It looked like the richest, softest fabric that money could buy. And the smell was heavenly. I just wanted to bury my face in it. I felt this warm glow of pride spreading out in my chest. It had been an amazing idea, if I did say so myself.

Nicholas, of course, took several shots of it, from all different angles. After we packed up the corsages, each one nestled into a cardboard display, Mom hung the dress on a padded hanger. We’d be transporting it on a dress rack in the back of the van. Nicholas had volunteered to sit in the back and make sure it didn’t get crushed. To be safe, Mom packed a whole bunch of replacement red roses.

Mom, Nicholas, Rose, Aster, and I piled into the minivan. Dad drove Debbie and Poppy in his car. We’d
all rendezvous in the parking lot at McIlhenny University.

Rose and Aster were in the middle seats, whispering excitedly to each other. For once, their extreme closeness didn’t make me feel the slightest bit wistful. I was just happy things were back to normal with them.

I peered out the window as we approached the campus. Crowds were milling about, wearing their McIlhenny sweatshirts. A bunch of kids were wearing moose antlers on their heads. Others had their faces painted half red and half yellow.

“Wow, it’s so crowded already,” I said nervously as we pulled up. We had a special pass to park in the faculty lot, and the guard waved us in.

“Let’s set everyone up with the corsages first,” said Mom. “Then we can deliver the dress to Marcia.”

We parked and began unloading the corsages. Dad pulled up shortly after and parked his car nearby. Debbie, Nicholas, Rose, and Aster each got a display.

“They’re ten dollars each,” I told them. “Three for twenty-five.”

Dad volunteered to keep an eye on things while
Mom and I helped everyone find the best locations. Nicholas claimed the front gate. “McIlhenny Moose Corsages!” he immediately began to cry. “Get ‘em while they’re hot!”

Aster promised to watch Poppy at their spot by the south entrance. Debbie picked the area by the ticket booth. Rose picked the restrooms. “Everybody’s got to go at some point,” she said. I had to give her that.

People began lining up for the corsages almost immediately. Mrs. McGillicuddy, whose anniversary party we had done over the summer, grabbed my arm. “What a great idea, Del!” she cried. “I adore the fall leaves. How in the world did you preserve them so beautifully?”

“Paraffin,” I told her. “Mom’s idea.”

I looked over at Debbie. She had a long line in front of her, too. “We’d better drop off that dress and start bringing these guys more corsages!” I exclaimed.

“Nicholas was right!” Mom said.

“I guess he was,” I admitted.

We headed back to the parking lot. There was Dad, leaning against his car, concentrating on his iPhone. The van was nowhere to be seen.

Mom walked up to him. “Ben, this isn’t the time for jokes,” she said. “Where’s the van?”

Dad looked up. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Have you been playing that Gnome game the whole time?” I asked.

Dad looked sheepish. “Yes,” he said. “It was time to harvest my navy beans. You know I hate it when they wither.”

I took a deep breath. “Well, if you haven’t noticed … the van isn’t here!”

“Someone must have stolen it from right under your nose!” Mom cried.

Dad looked around wildly. Then he smiled and pointed. “No, there it is!” he said. “You just forgot where you parked it!”

I looked at Mom. Was that possible? I was fairly certain we had parked it next to the red sports car. But there sat the white van, a couple of rows away.

Mom shook her head. “That’s weird. I could have sworn it was parked closer to Dad’s car … I guess we’re just worked up. I, for one, won’t be able to relax until the dress is delivered to Marcia.”

“And the corsages are all sold,” I added.

“That, too,” said Mom.

Mom gave Dad a dirty look and he wisely pocketed his phone. We walked up to the van. It looked dirtier than I remembered and someone had traced
WASH ME
into the dust on the back window. I hadn’t noticed that when we loaded up that morning.

Dad threw open the back door.

And it was completely empty.

“Someone stole our rose dress!” said Mom. “And the rest of our corsages!”

The campus police officer looked very confused as he took down our report. “So you say that someone moved your van and then stole a dress with roses on it?”

“No, the dress is
made
of roses,” I explained.

“Um, come again?” the officer said politely.

Nicholas came jogging up to us. “Everyone wants corsages! I need more,” he said. Then he noticed the looks on our faces, and the police officer. “What’s going on?” he asked.

My heart was beating superfast and my hands were shaking. “Someone stole the rose dress!” I cried.

Mom wrung her hands. “I’m supposed to get the dress to Marcia in fifteen minutes,” she said. “What am I going to tell her?”

“Who would do something like that?” Nicholas asked. Then his eyes narrowed. “I’ll bet it was those people from Fleur! They must have heard about your amazing dress and now they’re trying to sabotage you!”

“That’s crazy!” I said. But then I wondered,
Or is it?

“You don’t really think that’s what happened, do you?” Dad asked Mom.

“I don’t know what I think right now,” Mom said, sniffling. She searched her pockets and came up empty. “And I forgot my bandanna!”

I felt sick. Was the competition between our stores so intense that things had come to this? My heart sank as I thought the unthinkable — could Hamilton have something to do with this? It was too horrible to consider.

“Must be some students who took the van on a joyride,” Dad said.

The campus police officer nodded. “We do have a lot of high jinks on campus this time of year,” he agreed. “Last
night someone put a huge pair of moose antlers on the statue of Vern McIlhenny.”

“Or maybe,” I mused, “it was someone from the other team.”

“You think one of the Benton Beavers fans stole our van?” Mom asked.

“They could be trying to sabotage the Homecoming parade,” Dad said.

Mom sniffed again. I remembered that I had left a pack of tissues in the car. I opened the passenger-side door and pulled open the glove compartment. An avalanche of Three Musketeers bars spilled out.

“Huh?” I said. I will never understand the appeal of a Three Musketeers. It’s a Milky Way without the caramel. (And, obviously, a Milky Way is a Snickers without the peanuts.) I grabbed one and ran to my mom and dad, who were still trying to explain what had happened to the officer.

“So let me get this straight for once and for all. You’re saying that the owner of the stolen dress is named Rose?” the officer asked.

“Look!” I cried, holding out a candy bar.

Mom gave me a what-in-the-world-are-you-thinking look. “Del, this is no time to have a snack,” she said.

“No,” I said. “This isn’t our van. This van belongs to someone who loves the taste of fluffy nougat.”

Dad looked at the license plate and his jaw dropped. “Oh wow,” he said. “You’re right. This isn’t our van.”

The officer smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere,” he said. “Your van was stolen by someone wearing a dress.”

“Actually,” said Nicholas, “I don’t think your van was stolen at all. And I think we can get it back pretty easily.”

As Nicholas explained, he was a big fan of a radio show called
Car Talk.
And last week he had learned that keys of cars of the same make and model can start each other. “So all we have to do is find out who drives the same car as you,” Nicholas concluded.

Dad was nodding. “I know who took it,” he said. “The assistant dean.” He laughed. “He must have just gotten into the van and driven off, not realizing it wasn’t his. He
and his wife just had a baby. So he’s been a little distracted lately.”

“I hope he’s a careful driver!” Mom worried. “He doesn’t know he has the world’s most fragile dress bouncing around in the back!”

After a few tense moments, we got the assistant dean’s cell number. He didn’t pick up and Dad left him the world’s strangest message. “Um, excuse me, Dean Washington, I think you accidentally stole my minivan with a dress made out of roses in the back….”

By then, the whole family had returned to the parking lot looking for more corsages. So there was quite a crowd by the time Dean Washington pulled into the parking lot, honking his horn.

He looked totally embarrassed. “Ben!” he said as he got out of the car. “How in the world did this happen? I can’t even begin to apologize!”

Mom rushed over and threw open the back door of the van. “The dress is fine!” she called.

“Yay!” everyone cheered.

“You know we just had a baby girl,” the assistant dean
explained. “I’m a little sleep deprived, as you can imagine.” Everyone nodded sympathetically. “I got here early to get ready for the parade when I got an emergency call from my wife that we were out of diapers. I hopped into the first white van I saw. I was so distracted I didn’t even notice it wasn’t my van until you called.”

He shook his head ruefully. “Who ever heard of your keys being able to start someone else’s car?”

“Actually,” I said, “he did.” I pointed to Nicholas, who smiled.

Everyone grabbed new corsages to sell. Mom and I gingerly picked up the dress and rushed it over to the auditorium, where the Homecoming Queen and her court would be getting dressed.

Marcia was standing by the door. “You made it!” she said. “I was getting worried! Did something happen?”

Mom and I looked at each other and laughed. “If we told you, you’d never believe it,” I said.

Marcia brought the dress over to the Homecoming Queen, who happened to be Emily, the girl we had first met in Marcia’s office. We waited until Emily put it on to
make sure it fit. Mom had extra roses and her sewing kit at the ready just in case.

Then Emily came out wearing the dress. It was the first time we had seen the completed dress on an actual person. It looked so luxurious, so beautiful, so velvety soft, and it smelled so fragrant, it took everyone’s breath away.

“Wow,” I said. There was nothing else to say.

Emily looked down at the flowing red, textured skirt. She laughed delightedly. “It’s a little heavy,” she said. “But who cares? I feel like a … a …”

“Homecoming Queen?” I suggested.

She laughed. “The coolest Homecoming Queen ever,” she said.

As we walked back to the van, I suddenly realized how exhausted I was.

“Me too!” said Mom when I told her. “What a stressful morning!”

“Shall we sell some corsages?” I suggested.

“Good idea,” replied Mom.

But when we got to the van, the back was empty.

My heart stopped. “Do you think …”

“We sold every one,” said Nicholas from behind us. “They were a huge hit! We could have used a hundred more!”

“Looks like we’ve started a whole new Homecoming tradition,” I said. “Go, Petal Pushers!” I turned to Nicholas. “Thank you,” I said simply.

“My pleasure,” he returned, with a grin.

“Thank you both!” Mom said. “I’m headed over to find everyone. You coming?” I checked my watch. We still had time before the parade.

“Treat you to a hot chocolate?” I asked Nicholas.

“I thought you’d never ask!” he said.

“All right, see you later,” said Mom.

Nicholas and I strolled over to the concession stand that was on the quad and got in line.

“Well, hello there, Delphinium,” said a snotty voice from behind me.

I took a deep breath and turned around. It was Ashley, of course, in leather leggings and a long, fuzzy-looking, off-white sweater coat. I sighed. My jeans with the hole in the knee, McIlhenny sweatshirt, and one red, one yellow hightop now seemed completely kiddish, as Pops would say.

“Hi, Ashley,” I said with a sigh, just wanting to get my hot cocoa and be on my way.

Nicholas leaned forward. “Hi, I’m Nicholas,” he said. Ashley looked him up and down.

“Oh
you’re
Nicholas,” she said and nodded. She turned back to me.

She bit her lip. “Del, I’ve been meaning to tell you. What you said at school the other day really hit close to home,” she said.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What are you talking about?” I asked.

“I
was
being friends with your sister to get to you,” she said.

“I thought so,” I said. But why was she admitting it to me?

“But not for the reason you think,” she said. She gulped. “Not to be mean. I did it because … because … I miss being friends with you,” she finished softly.

Wait — had I heard her correctly?
“You
miss
me?”
I said.

“I do. Being friends with Rose kind of helped. A bit.” I took a deep breath. This was completely unexpected.
Could it really be true? “Oh, Ashley,” I said. “I didn’t realize …”

Ashley barked out a laugh. “Well, I guess I’m not such a bad actress after all!” she said.