A mob of people streamed into the restaurant. Just behind them was a large portion of the Ashland High School marching band. Tommy’s trio stopped playing and settled back to watch, grinning. Ava stared at her brother. Was he in on this?
The band was playing the school song. In the small room, the noise was almost deafening. A gleaming sousaphone loomed above the crowd of heads, as well as a tuba and at least one trombone. Bringing up the rear was a blond-haired high school boy booming on the big bass drum. Ava was pretty sure she could see dishes vibrating.
Six or seven cheerleaders in uniform were punching the air with pom-poms. Ava wondered if the pretty girl in the middle of the group with her hair braided was Kylie’s older sister. She suspected so. Then, when Ava was sure the restaurant couldn’t hold any more people, the crowd parted to make way for at least a dozen members of the football team and all the assistant coaches. Everyone cheered and whooped over the sound of the band.
Now the tiny restaurant was packed wall-to-wall. Ava found herself backed up against the front window, and she could see that outside, hundreds—could it be thousands?—of townspeople were gathered, singing, cheering, chanting, in the golden light of the setting sun.
Madame Nicole stood up on a chair, the way ladies in cartoons did when they saw a mouse. But rather than looking alarmed, she was smiling and conducting the band, her elegant, bracelet-adorned arms making half circles in the air with an invisible baton. Ava wondered if she had known about this new plan, and suspected that she had. Most likely Tommy had tipped her off.
She could see the kitchen staff, who had all come out into the dining area to observe the action. No wonder the amuse-bouche—which Alex had found out was kind of a single-serving appetizer—hadn’t been brought out yet!
When the band finished the school song, Coach Byron gave a quick toot on his whistle to quiet the crowd. He, too, stood up on a chair. Ava could see his two kids, Jamila and Shane, hovering near Mr. and Mrs. Sackett’s table.
“Laura,” said Coach Byron, nodding toward Mrs. Sackett. “Coach Sackett, members of the team, members of the pep squad, PTA organizers, townspeople, and random passersby who just wandered in to see what the fuss was about”—everyone laughed—“welcome! We’ve gathered here to wish Laura and Coach Sackett a happy anniversary. I understand from Tom that it’s your twentieth.” He gave Tommy a little salute.
Tommy saluted back.
“And we’ve also learned over these past couple of weeks that Coach is somewhat stubborn and that the last thing in the world he’d consider is missing tonight’s pep rally, even if it is his twentieth wedding anniversary.”
Lots of people in the crowd laughed again. One of the horn players tooted playfully.
“And so,” continued Coach Byron, “we decided that rather than have you come to the pep rally, we’d bring it to you, Coach. So here we are!”
Another big cheer. Honking horns. Waving pom-poms.
“A big thanks to your daughters, Ava and Alex, for organizing this intimate romantic dinner for you,” he said.
The crowd laughed again.
“And to Madame Nicole Duchamps and her husband, Gaston, the co-owners of this quiet little romantic restaurant.”
The chef—Ava assumed Monsieur Gaston—acknowledged the crowd with a wave of his whisk. Madame Nicole had borrowed an air horn from one of the boys in the crowd, and she gave it a blaring toot, eliciting another howl of laughter from the crowd.
Coach stood up from his chair and cleared his throat, but Coach Byron put up his hands to prevent him from speaking.
“No speeches, Coach!”
More laughter.
“We aren’t here to ask you to make an on-demand speech on your anniversary. We just came by to wish you well, to extend our apologies to Laura for taking you away from your family for so many hours of the day so many days of the week, and to tell you we’re heading off to the stadium for the pep rally, and we want you to stay here and enjoy your dinner. And to extend a special, heartfelt thanks to Laura, for all the great work she’s done for the team so far.”
Several parents in the back of the crowd whooped loudly at that.
Mrs. Sackett beamed.
“Go, Tigers!” shouted Coach Byron.
With a roar and a cheer that made Ava fear for the windowpanes in the restaurant, the crowd began filing out. The band started up the school song again, and in a few minutes the room was quiet, although they could hear the shouts and cheers and music and horn blares as they receded into the distance.
Tommy and his musician friends stopped by the table. The two friends shook hands with Coach and Mrs. Sackett and headed off, leaving Tommy, Alex, and Ava alone with their parents.
Mrs. Sackett shook her head in wonderment. “You kids. Michael. I just, I don’t know what to say.” She sniffled, her eyes misty.
“Make her open the present, Daddy!” said Alex excitedly.
Coach grinned as Mrs. Sackett pulled the lid off the little box and exclaimed in delight at the class ring on a chain. Alex helped her fasten it. They all admired how pretty it looked.
Then Mrs. Sackett looked guiltily at Coach.
“Michael, I am the worst wife ever,” she said. “I completely forgot about our anniversary. It’s been so hectic this week I just—it slipped my mind. And here you did all this planning.”
Coach shifted uncomfortably in his chair, darted a sideways look at Ava and Alex, cleared his throat, and said, “To be honest, Laur, it was Alex who remembered. And she and Ave and Tommy did all the planning. I would have forgotten too. So don’t beat yourself up about it. We’ve both been a little—distracted. The difference is, I’m so bad, the kids knew I’d forget. At least they gave you more credit, and rightfully so.”
Mrs. Sackett put her arm around Alex’s waist and pulled her daughter close to her. “I am the luckiest person on the planet,” she said, “to have such an amazing family.”
“We wanted you to know how much we appreciate all that you do, Mom,” said Alex.
Ava and Tommy nodded.
“Come on, dudes,” said Tommy to his sisters. “Let’s head to the rally and leave these two lovebirds to their romantic dinner.”
Later that night Ava lay in bed, flush with happiness about the success of the dinner and the fun she’d had at the pep rally. She’d stood next to Jack the whole time.
Her phone buzzed. It was Charlie, from back home.
What’s up, cowboy? All good?
Yeah, great. Big pep rally tonight.
Another text came in, but this one was from Jack. Jack! She was getting near-simultaneous texts from two different guys!
Hey—it was so noisy at the rally. Barely had a chance to talk to you. I heard your parents’ surprise dinner was awesome.
She texted him back, after triple-checking that it was going to Jack, not Charlie.
Yeah, it worked out really well!
From Charlie: Your dad’s team supposed to win tomorrow?
From Jack: I’ll look for you at the game tomorrow.
To Charlie: I think it’s going to be a tough game.
From Jack: Will you be at Sal’s after?
To Jack: Yeah, I think so.
She fell back on the pillow. Texting two boys at the same time. That was definitely a first.
Meanwhile, Alex was in her room, picking her outfit for the next day—game day, and the last day of Spirit Week, and everyone was supposed to wear Tigers stuff. She’d borrowed a practice jersey from Tommy, which she planned to knot at the waist over her new pair of skinny blue capris.
She replayed the events of the evening in her head. The restaurant episode had been—what was a good word? Sensational. That was it. And the pep rally had been exhilarating.
Their parents had arrived home just a few minutes after she and Tommy and Ava had. They’d had a long, luxurious, quiet dinner, they said, and the food was amazing. Madame Nicole had had a special dessert prepared for them, and they’d brought the rest of it home for the kids. It was a heart-shaped chocolate cake, coated in a glossy chocolate shell, beneath which was a rich chocolate buttercream. It was the best cake Alex had ever tasted.
Her mind moved to Corey. Was he furious with her because she’d said she had a boyfriend? Was that all it had taken to get Lindsey to be genuinely nice to her? Was it worth it?
Her homework done, she pulled out the book she’d borrowed from the library: Tackling the Game of Football. She really needed to learn more about how football was played so she stopped sounding like a total dope when asked about her dad’s team. But five minutes into reading about types of offense, her eyes began to droop, and she turned out the light and fell asleep.