He chuckled as he continued coiling the hose. “Anytime.”

  Emma hurried down to her grandma’s car, eagerly hopping inside where it was warm and smelled like french fries. “I was at McDonald’s when you called.” Grandma pointed to the bag next to her. “Help yourself.”

  Emma giggled as she reached for what Grandma usually called her worst vice. “Thanks.”

  “So what do you need help with?” Grandma asked as she turned down her street.

  Emma explained how she was dressing up as Jane Austen’s Emma and how she wanted to make a bonnet to go with her costume. “Did you ever read the book?” she asked.

  Grandma shook her head. “You know I’m not much of a reader, Emma.”

  Emma reached into her bag where she’d tucked the DVD that Cassidy had loaned her. “I have the movie,” she said. “We could watch it if you want. I wanted to get a better look at the bonnets Emma wears.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Grandma agreed. “I’d like that.”

  As they went into the house, Emma tried not to look at the recliner that her grandpa used to sit in to watch football games. Instead, she described the dress she was going to wear in detail. “And the hat is supposed to have this really wide brim,” she explained, “with ribbons coming down on both sides.” She held up the DVD. “But you’ll see it when we watch the movie.”

  Together they watched the movie while Emma worked on the hat, following the directions that Mrs. Jacobs had given her. “I think this looks pretty good,” she told her grandmother when the movie finally ended. Then, placing it on her head, Emma stood up and modeled it around the family room.

  “That’s perfect,” Grandma told her. “It’s almost exactly like the one in the movie. You’re such a clever girl, Emma. Such an artist.”

  Emma went over to the wall mirror and nodded in satisfaction. “It really does look like the one in the movie.” Now she frowned. “But my hair isn’t long enough to braid it like Gwyneth Paltrow did.”

  “I have an idea.” Grandma stood up. “Come with me.”

  Emma followed Grandma to the master bedroom where Grandma started digging through her closet. “My hair used to be the same color as yours,” Grandma said as she pulled down some boxes from a high shelf. “And back when I was in my twenties, I had this fall.”

  “A fall? What’s a fall?”

  Grandma laughed. “It’s a hairpiece that you attached to the top of your head to make it look like you had long hair.” She opened a pink box, and digging through some old scarves and things, she eventually produced what looked like a blondish ponytail. “Here it is.” She swung it around. “My fall.”

  Emma giggled at the strange-looking hair. “You really wore that?”

  “Just for one summer. It was during the late sixties and all the girls had long hair and I thought I wanted to look like them. You put it on the top of your head, then wrapped a scarf or hair band around to conceal where it connected.” She held it up to her head, then looked into the mirror inside her closet and broke into laughter. “Oh, my goodness. It looks about as bad now as it did back then.”

  Emma couldn’t help but laugh too. Grandma looked ridiculous with that scraggly blonde hair hanging down over her short gray hair.

  “But I thought that we might be able to braid it,” Grandma said as she led Emma out into the bedroom. She went over to her dressing table and picked up a brush to smooth out the hair before separating it into three strands. “Here, you hold this end while I braid it.”

  Emma watched as Grandma worked the hair into a fairly smooth-looking braid. “Now stand still,” Grandma told Emma, positioning her in front of the big mirror. Using bobby pins and hair gel, she smoothed most of Emma’s hair back, leaving a few feathered bangs to frame her face. Then she wrapped the thick braid around her head like a crown and secured it in place. “How’s that?”

  “Oh, Grandma!” Emma exclaimed. “It looks just like the movie.”

  “Let’s try it with your bonnet,” Grandma said with enthusiasm.

  Soon Emma had on the bonnet, and she couldn’t have been happier. “It’s perfect, Grandma.”

  Grandma had her camera out now. “Let’s get a photo of it. I want to send this to Aunt Lucy.”

  Emma posed for her. “I wish I had the dress here so we could see how all of it looks together.”

  “I wish you did too.” Grandma took another shot.

  “Hey, why don’t you come over to our house on Friday? That’s the night of the dance,” Emma suggested. “That way you can see how I look with everything all together.”

  Grandma’s eyes lit up. “That would be wonderful, dear. I’d love that.”

  “Great,” Emma told her. “It’s a date.”

  “Speaking of dates.” Grandma looked at the clock. “I promised to pick up Marsha for bingo tonight. Can I give you a lift home?”

  As Emma gathered up her things, she thanked Grandma for helping her.

  “Oh, I didn’t really do anything,” Grandma said as they went out to the car. “You know I’m not very creative, sweetie. You made the bonnet all by yourself.”

  “But you were encouraging to me,” Emma told her. “And you watched the movie with me, and you’re the one who thought of using the fall for my braid. That was creative and it’s going to make my costume way better.”

  “I guess we make a good team,” Grandma said as she started the car. “Maybe you brought out the creativity in me.”

  As Grandma drove Emma home, Emma thought that perhaps her grandmother was more creative than either of them realized. She just needed a little encouragement.

  8

  Abby had been invited to spend the night at Bryn’s house on Saturday. Shortly after she got there, she confided to Bryn that she was worried about having the group dinner at her house. “My mom came down with the flu on Thursday,” she explained. “She couldn’t go to work yesterday and she never even made it out of bed today.”

  “We need to discuss this with the DG,” Bryn said as she reached for her phone. Soon it was agreed that an emergency meeting was needed, and by 8:00 all five girls were at Bryn’s home.

  “As you all know, the dance is only six days away,” Bryn reminded everyone. “We need to nail down some of the details for that night.” She now explained Abby’s problem with hosting the group dinner.

  “Naturally, there’s a chance my mom will be better by then,” Abby told her friends. “But there’s also a chance that she won’t. Anyway, my dad suggested we have the dinner somewhere else.”

  “We could’ve had it here,” Bryn said, “except that my mom’s having bunko on Friday night.”

  “There’s no way we can have it at my house,” Emma told them. “Our dining room isn’t even big enough for six people. No way could we have ten.”

  “I suppose we could have it at my house,” Cassidy offered. “It’s not nearly as nice as Bryn or Abby’s, but our dining room is big enough.”

  “I have an idea,” Abby said suddenly. “What if we skip the group dinner this time. That way it will be more mysterious when we go to the dance. Our blind dates will pick us up, we’ll all ride in the limo together, and we won’t find out who our dates are until we’re at the dance.” Abby’s real reason for suggesting this was twofold. She did feel guilty for not being able to have the dinner like she’d offered a week ago. But more than that she hoped this would be a good way to spare Leonard from a miserable dinner if Devon threw a hissy fit when she discovered who her date really was. It would be easier to handle the mess at the masquerade ball with lots of other people around to absorb some of the crud. And if Abby was lucky, maybe Devon wouldn’t even figure things out until after a few dances.

  “But the group dinner was so fun last time,” Emma reminded them. “I thought we all agreed that it was a good way to break the ice—”

  “I like Abby’s idea,” Devon interrupted. “Think about it—our blind dates show up at our doors, we don’t know who they are, we all ride together in the limo. It’ll be fun.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Abby agreed eagerly.

  “Except that if the guys come to our doors, they’ll know who we are,” Cassidy pointed out.

  “How about if we meet somewhere else?” Devon suggested. “Or we could all be at the same house when the guys pick us up.”

  So they put it to the vote, and to Abby’s relief, the majority agreed to forgo the group dinner and be picked up together. However, the majority was only three of them. Emma and Bryn were still uncertain about giving up the group dinner. But they discussed it a while longer, and eventually Emma and Bryn came around.

  “So where do we meet?” Bryn asked. “Where will the guys pick us up?”

  They discussed various options, but each one seemed to have some major flaw until Bryn suggested her grandparents’ house. After they all agreed that could work, Bryn called her grandmother and, after explaining their dilemma, she received the green light. “Gram’s really excited about it,” Bryn told them as she hung up. “Grandpa will have his camcorder running, and Gram offered to put out some appetizers for us.”

  “That’s great,” Abby told her. “Your grandmother’s a great cook.”

  Bryn suddenly remembered their last group date and how it was fun to gather afterward—their chance to discuss the evening and their individual dates. “Hey, what if we end it with a sleepover like we did for the homecoming dance?” she asked. “A chance for us girls to regroup and dish about our dates.”

  “That sounds good,” Emma agreed. “And we can rate our dates again.”

  “But where will we have it?” Devon asked.

  “Why not here?” Bryn suggested.

  “What about your mom’s bunko?” Abby asked.

  “Oh, the ladies will be long gone by then.” Bryn grinned. “Besides that, there’ll be really good leftovers because Mom always makes way too much food for bunko night.” Naturally that cinched the deal.

  With that settled, Cassidy, Emma, and Devon left and it was just Bryn and Abby again. “You have to see the shoes I got to go with my dress,” Bryn said as she went for the closet, removing a shiny black box. “Check these babies out.” She opened it to show a glitzy pair of golden shoes with dainty straps and stocky heels.

  “Pretty.” Abby picked up a sleek shoe. But she noticed the price on the box and couldn’t hide her shock. “Did you really pay that much for these?” She set the expensive shoe back in the tissue paper.

  “Yeah. Plus shipping.” Bryn nodded almost as if proud of this.

  “Seriously?”

  “Hey, I want to look hot.”

  “For shoes you’ll only wear once?” Abby was trying to wrap her head around this. Even though her basketball shoes were not cheap, they wouldn’t cost even one-third of what Bryn had plunked down for these. And Abby would wear her high-tops all season and probably even afterward.

  Bryn laughed. “You sound like my dad now.”

  “Sorry.” Abby didn’t want to imagine what her own dad would say if she spent that kind of money on something she’d wear one time.

  Now Bryn went over to her dresser to pick up a glittering piece of jewelry. “Look at this headpiece.” She slid it over her shiny blonde hair. “Isn’t it fabulous?”

  “Very pretty.” Abby forced a congenial smile. No need to rain on Bryn’s parade.

  “I know what you’re thinking.” Bryn removed the headpiece and set it down.

  “What?” Abby sat down on Bryn’s bed.

  “That I’m over the top. I’m spending too much money. Obsessing over fashion.” She grinned. “But you know me—fashion is my passion.”

  “I know . . . but it seems like you could be fashionable without sending your family to the poorhouse.”

  Bryn laughed. “Now you really sound like Dad.”

  “Sorry.” Abby shrugged. “I guess I’m just a practical person.”

  “The thing is, I had to pull out all the stops—I have to one-up Devon.”

  Abby frowned. “Why?”

  “Why?” Bryn was pacing across her room now, as if she were frustrated. “Because she stole Tara’s Juliet dress.”

  “She didn’t steal it, Bryn. She rented it.”

  “Yeah, yeah . . . That’s what she says. But I should’ve gotten that dress. And I have a feeling she knew that.”

  “How would she know that?”

  Bryn held up her hands. “I don’t know. All I know is that I have to look hotter than Devon at this dance. And I’m doing everything I can to make sure I do.”

  “Well, your dress is beautiful. At least it will be when it’s finished. And the shoes and headpiece are gorgeous.” Abby smiled. “So I’m guessing you’ve got this one in the bag.”

  “Really?”

  Abby cringed to imagine how Devon would react when she discovered that Leonard was her blind date. She could throw a very ugly fit, or she might even refuse to go to the dance. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “What’s bugging you?” Bryn asked curiously. “You don’t seem like yourself, Abby. You haven’t for the last week. What’s up?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Worried about who’s taking you to the dance?”

  “Not really.” Abby looked evenly at her. “I actually wouldn’t care if I was set up with the lamest, geekiest boy in the school.”

  “Really?” Bryn looked skeptical.

  “Really.”

  Bryn studied Abby, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “I wish I could put you to the test.”

  Abby stared at her supposedly best friend. “You mean if you were picking my blind date, you’d choose a geeky guy?”

  “Maybe so. Just to see if you really meant that.”

  Abby frowned at her. “So did you set me up?”

  “You know I can’t tell you that.”

  “Well, even if you did, and even if you picked a total geek, I would not care.”

  Bryn laughed. “Well, you are definitely a bigger woman than I am.”

  Abby wanted to argue this point, but she was tired of talking about blind dates and geeks. And she was tired of thinking about it too. The sooner this dance came and went, the happier she would be.

  Abby had promised to make it home in time to go to church with her parents, but because her mom was still under the weather, Abby and Dad went to church without her. And afterward, to give Mom some more undisturbed resting time, Dad suggested they go out for lunch.

  “What’d you think of today’s sermon?” Dad asked after the waitress took their order.

  Abby tried to remember the theme of the sermon. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been listening, exactly . . . although her mind might’ve been wandering a little. “It was good,” she said slowly, trying to recall what was said.

  Dad chuckled. “Meaning you can’t remember?”

  “I just went kinda blank,” Abby confessed. “Oh, yeah, I remember. It was about being a light in a dark world.”

  “That’s right.” Dad nodded. “So what about the sermon stood out to you, Abby? Tell me how you can apply the teaching to your own life.”

  She knew that Dad couldn’t help acting like a teacher. That was just who he was. And she knew the easiest way to get beyond this was to play along—and then change the subject. So she thought hard. “I guess the part about being a light to my friends,” she said.

  “That’s great,” he said. “Do you feel like you’re a light to your friends?”

  She shrugged, fingering the paper napkin. “I try to be.”

  “I realize peer pressure—even in a Christian school—can be tough when you’re a teen,” he said gently.

  “Yeah. Just because Northwood is a Christian school does not mean all the kids there are Christians, Dad. For sure.”

  “So you probably get lots of opportunities to be a light then.”

  “I guess so.” She took a sip of ice water, trying to think of a new conversation topic.

  “Because I know how it goes with friends,” he continued. “You either influence them or they influence you. Right?”

  She nodded. “Yeah . . . I suppose that’s mostly right.”

  “So which are you, Abby?”

  “Huh?”

  “An influencer? Or the one who’s being influenced?”

  She frowned. “I don’t know. Probably both . . . I mean, sometimes.”

  “Because you really should be the influencer.”

  She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew Dad hated that. But really, was he that clueless?

  “I know it’s not easy, honey. But you need to believe in yourself—and you need to believe that God is at work in you. And when you do that, you can take the leadership role with your friends.”

  “Some of my friends don’t like being led, Dad.”

  “But that sounds like they want to do the leading . . . and what happens if they want to lead where you shouldn’t go?”

  “Then I don’t go there.”

  He studied her closely.

  “Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I don’t let my friends pressure me into things I don’t want to do, Dad.”

  “It’s important to understand how the company you keep can influence you, Abby.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean sometimes kids think their friends are a neutral influence. But most of the time that’s not true. Your friends can influence you even when you don’t know it. The company you keep is a major influence on who you are, Abby. On who you become.”

  Abby knew her dad meant well, but sometimes he just didn’t get it. For instance, if he had any idea what Devon was really like, well, he would certainly disapprove of this wild friend. He might even insist that Abby discontinue associating with her. And yet Devon actually had very little influence on Abby. At least Abby didn’t think she did. However, Abby was aware that she’d been fretting over Devon quite a bit lately. Not about Devon’s “influence” but about how furious Devon would be when she discovered that Abby had set her up with Leonard Mansfield for her blind date. But was Abby going to confide about that to her dad? She didn’t think so.

  Dad continued his mini-lecture about friends and the company you keep until the waitress brought their food. And then Abby deftly changed the subject to sports. “Basketball season starts in a couple of weeks.” She reminded him that she needed new high-tops. “And did I tell you that Belinda Matthews grew a couple of inches? So I won’t have to play center this year. It looks like we’ll have a pretty good team.”