The night after she became engaged, Joan called the Tanner house. Brooke picked up the phone and started right in asking Joan what she thought about dogs wearing tutus: Were they cute? Was pink the best dog tutu color? But instead of answering like she usually would, Joan asked if she could talk to Mom. She promised Brooke that they could have a very long conversation about dog tutus in the salon later that week.
“Sure thing,” Brooke said, putting Joan on speaker. “The dog tutus can wait. I’ll go get Mom.” Then she yelled, “Mooooooom! Phooooone! It’s Jooooooan!”
“That doesn’t sound quite like getting her to me,” Joan said with a laugh on the other end.
“Close enough,” Brooke told her.
Mom didn’t pick up, so Aly went to find her. She walked upstairs and poked her head into her parents’ bedroom. Mom was there, talking on her cell phone.
“Hey,” Aly whispered. “Joan’s on the phone.”
“Tell her I’ll call her back, sweetie,” Mom said. “I’m on with Dad.”
Aly nodded. Dad traveled a lot for work and usually came home on Friday nights. But he was on an especially long trip this time and wouldn’t be making it home for the weekend. She wanted to say hi to him, but it seemed like Mom had some more important things to talk about, so Aly quietly left the room.
The girls went to bed that night thinking about Joan and her wedding.
“Do you think there’s anyone else she could possibly ask to be her flower girls?” Brooke said from her side of the room.
Aly rolled over to face her sister. “I don’t know. Maybe she isn’t planning on having flower girls. Or maybe Isaac has people to ask.”
Brooke gasped. “Isaac’s people! I hadn’t thought of that.”
“But Joan loves us,” Aly added. “So she’ll probably pick us.”
“Probably,” Brooke repeated.
Aly still wasn’t sure how she felt about being a flower girl. All the flower girls she’d seen were three or five or maybe seven years old. She was ten and Brooke was eight. Was there an age limit?
The next morning Mom woke the girls up earlier than usual. “Rise and shine!” she said. “I spoke to Joan last night after you two fell asleep. She asked me to bring you to the bridal shop today.”
Aly stretched and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.
“Does Joan want us to come because we’re going to be flower girls?” Brooke asked.
Mom just smiled. “She asked me to be her matron of honor, but she didn’t mention anything about you two. She also asked me to figure out a way to donate the extra food from her wedding to a charity in town. I’m going to have to do some research on that today. Maybe you girls can help.”
“We’re going to be flower girls, and Sparkly’s going to be the flower dog—I just know it, ” Brooke said, getting out of bed and sliding on her glasses.
“Of course we can help,” Aly told her mom. But she wasn’t really thinking about the food donation. She was thinking that ten years old was practically eleven, which was really close to being a teenager. And teenagers were never flower girls.
“Maybe Joan wants us to help her choose her dress,” Aly offered. “Or choose the color for her bridesmaids. We’re very good color pickers.”
Brooke nodded. “That’s true, we are. But we could do those things and be her flower girls.”
Brooke had a point. Then again, Brooke always had a point.
When they entered the Something New bridal shop, Aly couldn’t believe her eyes. One side of the shop was filled with hundreds of dresses in hundreds of different colors—more colors than all of the nail polishes in the whole Sparkle Spa—and the other side was lined with the whitest, poofiest dresses she had ever seen.
“Hi, girls,” Joan greeted them. They both gave her a hug. “My appointment is in this room to the right.”
Brooke and Aly followed Joan, and for the second time in two minutes, Aly couldn’t believe her eyes. There, sitting on a couch, surrounded by dresses and books filled with fabric samples, were Suzy Davis and her younger sister, Heather, who was sitting on Isaac’s lap.
“Suzy?” Aly said.
Suzy looked up from a bridal magazine. “Hi,” she said.
“Did you know I was going to be here?” Aly asked.
Suzy shrugged. “I guessed it. I knew Uncle Isaac was dating your mom’s best friend.”
Aly couldn’t believe her ears. “Why didn’t you say anything?” she said. Then she turned to Joan and her mom. “Why didn’t anyone say anything?”
Suzy and Aly were on speaking terms now, but that hadn’t always been the case. Suzy had been mean to Aly for years and had almost destroyed the Sparkle Spa a couple months ago. After the school carnival last month, the girls decided they didn’t hate each other anymore, but still. It wasn’t like they hung out all the time. Or ever, really.
“I didn’t meet Isaac’s brother and his family until last week,” Joan said.
“And I didn’t make the connection until I spoke to Joan last night,” Mom said.
Mom had not been a big fan of Suzy Davis either, but the carnival had changed her mind a little.
There was a lull in the conversation. Brooke looked at Aly and sent her a Secret Sister Eye Message: Can you believe this?
Aly sent her one back: Something bad is going to happen. I can feel it.
Heather moved off of Isaac’s lap. Standing up, he said, “How about all of you girls gather together over here. Joan and I have something important to ask you.”
Aly felt Brooke grab her hand. They walked over and sat on the couch between Heather and Suzy.
Suzy immediately slid closer to Aly, even though there was plenty of room on her side. Aly sighed.
“So,” Joan said, “we know this is a little out of the ordinary, but we’d love to have all four of you as our flower girls.”
Brooke and Heather squealed.
Joan continued. “We haven’t picked the color yet, but I just fell in love with this flower girl dress. We’ll order it in each of your sizes in whatever color we choose.”
She lifted up a dress the color of Peaches and Dreams nail polish that had poofy sleeves with ruffles and a huge bow at the waist. Aly thought it was pretty, but she also thought it looked like a little-girl dress. She was not thrilled at the idea of wearing it, but she loved Joan, so . . .
“We’re too old,” Suzy said, breaking into Aly’s thoughts. “Aly and me, we’re too old to be flower girls. And that’s a baby dress, no offense. We’re both almost eleven, which is too old to wear a baby dress. Right, Aly?” Suzy crossed her arms and looked at Aly.
“Well . . . ,” Aly began. Suzy wasn’t wrong, but Aly didn’t want to hurt Joan’s feelings.
“See?” Suzy said. “Aly agrees. And since we’re so good at making people beautiful, we’re going to have a different job at the wedding. We’re going to be Brooke and Heather’s stylists. We’ll do their nails and their makeup and their hair. That’s a more grown-up job.”
Brooke looked at Aly.
Mom looked at Joan.
Joan looked at Isaac.
Isaac looked at Suzy.
“If that’s what you want, that’s fine with me,” he said.
Suzy smiled and said, “Thanks, Uncle Isaac.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Mom asked Aly.
Aly froze. She didn’t know how to answer, so many thoughts were going through her mind:
1. Suzy was right—the dress was for little kids.
2. A stylist did sound like a more fun, grown-up job.
3. Aly had felt all along that she was too old to be a flower girl.
4. But a flower girl was a real part of the wedding.
5. A stylist was not. A stylist didn’t get to walk down the aisle and wear the wedding colors.
6. But that might be better than wearing a baby dress down the aisle for everyone at the wedding to see.
“I—I—I’m . . . ,” Aly stammered.
“She’s sure,” Suzy said. “We’re not babies.”
“Neither are we,” Brooke snapped. “The dress is beautiful.”
Aly nodded her head weakly. “Being a stylist will be fun,” she said.
Joan looked at Aly again. “Okay,” she said, “I’m sure it will.”
“So,” Brooke said, “is there any chance Sparkly can be the flower dog?”
The grown-ups laughed, and Aly felt relieved that there was a new topic of conversation. But she also felt worried that she might have just made a big mistake she wouldn’t be able to fix.