Mary Ann sits on a bench while I pace back and forth in front of the wish pond at the end of our street. Mary Ann reads from a clipboard.

“List?”

“Check,” I say.

“Letters and pictures?”

“Check. Check.”

“Folding Chairs? TV table? Back pillows?”

“Check. Check. Check.”

“Cupcakes? Lemonade? Fruit Platter? Mints?”

“Check. Check. Check. And … check,” I say.

Mary Ann takes a deep breath. “OK. We’re ready to put Operation: Moms into action.”

We both cross our fingers and our toes. Then we pick up rocks and toss them into the wish pond. Hopefully, our crossing and tossing will bring us good luck. Right now, we could really use some good luck.

Operation: Moms is going to be a tricky one. We have to convince our moms that the four people who should go to New York are Mom, me, Mary Ann, and her mom. My mom is going to say Max and Dad should go. Mary Ann’s mom is going to say she’s not sure it is a good idea since she is pregnant.

“I’ll get the moms. You get the blindfolds,” says Mary Ann.

I nod. Then I take one last look at everything we set up. It looks good. But still, convincing our moms to take us both to New York won’t be easy.

When I see Mary Ann walking down the street with our moms, I run to meet them. “No peeking!” I say as I blindfold our moms.

Mary Ann’s mom pats her belly. “Careful!” she says.

“Don’t worry,” Mary Ann and I say at the same time. Since Colleen’s baby is due this summer, careful is a word she uses a lot.

We guide our moms to the chairs we set up at the wish pond. We sit them down. Then we take off the blindfolds. “Wow!” both moms say as they look at the table of treats in front of them. Mary Ann and I adjust the pillows behind their backs to make sure they are extra comfy.

Mary Ann’s mom smiles. “What did we do to deserve all this?” she asks.

“Eat first, talk later,” I say. Mary Ann and I serve our moms cupcakes, fruit, and lemonade. When they’re done eating, we offer them each a mint.

Then they look at us like it’s time to start talking.

Mary Ann gives me a you’re-the-spokes-person-of-this-operation look.

I clear my throat and start. The first part of what I have to say is easy. I remind our moms about the contest we entered. I show them the letters from Fashion Fran.

“Mallory, you won the contest? That’s wonderful!” Colleen gushes.

“I’m so proud of you, Mallory!” My mom gives me a huge hug.

I wait while they read the letter. I keep waiting while they talk about how exciting it is to have won a contest. Then I pause. The next thing I have to say is not so easy to say.

“Mary Ann and I want to go to New York together, with the two of you.”

Both moms look at each other like they are not sure about that.

Mom takes the letter addressed to my parents and starts reading. Colleen shifts around in her chair like she is uncomfortable. Before either of them have a chance to say anything, I keep talking.

I explain how Mary Ann and I entered this contest together. I tell them how we have never been on a mother-daughter trip with just the four of us. I remind them that once Mary Ann’s mom has the baby, it would be a very long time before we could think about going on a mother-daughter trip together.

Both moms shake their heads like that is not something that is going to happen.

Then they both start firing off questions faster than kernels pop out of the popcorn machine at the movie theater.

Mom looks at me. “Mallory, have you thought about Dad and Max? Don’t you think they will want to go to New York too?” She shakes her head like she can’t believe I didn’t think of these things.

Colleen looks at Mary Ann. “Have you forgotten that I’m having a baby? How could I possibly keep up with you girls in New York?” She shakes her head like just the idea of it is tiring.

Mary Ann and I had a feeling this was how they were going to respond. We look at each other, and then we both pull lists out of our back pockets.

We start reading together.

Our moms look at the list, and then they look at us like they’re not sure what to say. Even though I’m the official spokesperson, Mary Ann starts talking.

“Please, please, please!” she says. “Please say yes that we can all go together to New York.”

Mary Ann gives me a make-your-sad-puppy-face look.

I make the best sad-puppy face I’ve ever made.

Our moms start talking quietly to each other. Even though we’re close by, it is hard to tell what they are saying. I hear buzz words like plane and hotel and timing. But it is impossible to tell by their facial expressions if they are going to say “yes” or “no” to what we asked.

Mary Ann and I aren’t taking any chances.

We came prepared. While our moms keep talking, Mary Ann and I hold up pictures of places to visit in New York City. We hold up pictures of the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty, Central Park, and Times Square.

Our moms look at the pictures, and then they look back at each other. I try to send a message from my brain to their brains to say yes.

Our moms keep talking quietly for what feels like a very long time.

Finally, they nod at each other like they agree.

Mary Ann grabs my hand. I feel like we are in court and the jury is about to read their verdict. I squeeze Mary Ann’s hand.

I don’t think I can wait another second. And I don’t have to.

“Girls,” says Mom. “Pack your bags. We’re going to New York!”