Deep Freeze #12

Amanda Moore glanced around Windsor Middle School’s large auditorium, trying to see who was calling her name. Suddenly, she spotted her friends Peichi Cheng, Shawn Jordan, and Natasha Ross down in the front row. Peichi was standing on her toes, waving wildly, trying to attract Amanda’s attention.

Amanda grinned and waved back, then tried to make her way toward them. The entire seventh-grade class had been herded into the auditorium for a special assembly, and the narrow aisles were packed with kids laughing, shouting, and shoving one another as they tried to sit with their pals. From the back of the auditorium, Amanda finally shrugged helplessly at Peichi, as if to say, “I can’t get down there!” Peichi made a small pouting face, and Natasha nodded understandingly.

Amanda knew exactly who was calling her now—her twin sister, Molly, who was sitting at the opposite end of the row to Amanda’s left. Amanda saw that the row had already filled up except for a single seat next to Molly, which her twin had protectively blocked off with her heavy backpack.

“Sorry, sorry, oops, excuse me, sorry,” Amanda mumbled as she squeezed down the aisle. “Phew!” she exclaimed as she flopped into the seat next to Molly. “Thanks for saving me a seat.”

“No prob,” replied Molly. “I tried to get down to the front too, but there was no way. It’s packed!” Suddenly, Molly burst out laughing. “Did you see that? Someone just threw a paper airplane and it hit Natasha in the head!”

“Nope. I would have figured it was Omar, but he’s onstage,” Molly said. “Oh, wait—it had to be Connor! He’s been almost as big a pain as Omar ever since Omar was elected class president.”

Amanda could tell that Peichi, Shawn, and Natasha had figured the same as Molly. They were whispering together as Peichi crumpled up the paper and got ready to throw it at Connor Kelly, who was sitting a few rows directly behind them. But before Peichi could toss it, Mr. Degregorio walked onstage and stood in front of the girls. Natasha grabbed Peichi’s arm to stop her just in time!

“Nice save!” cried the twins. They exchanged a glance and started laughing. They were doing the “twin thing” again—saying the same thing at the same time—which happened a lot!

Teachers patrolled the aisles, trying to quiet the rowdy students. A big assembly and a Friday afternoon were a bad combination for getting anyone to sit quietly. But when Principal Wagner walked to a podium onstage and tapped the microphone, a hush quickly fell over the students.

“Welcome, seventh-graders!” Principal Wagner said in her loud, upbeat voice. She was a short, stocky woman in her mid- fifties whose elegant business suits made her stand out among the teachers. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why we’re here today...”

“I know,” Molly whispered back, interrupting Amanda before she could continue. “You already told me.” Ever since Amanda had gone on a date with the cute eighthgrader Evan Anderson, she acted like she knew everything about what was supposed to happen in seventh grade.

“Each year, after completing the unit on colonial life, the seventh-grade class spends Presidents’ Day weekend at Chestnut Hill Farm in Vermont, an actual farm from the eighteenth century that is still run largely like it was over two hundred years ago! Besides having an opportunity to ski, sled, and snowboard—” Principal Wagner paused as the students started screaming again, “—you’ll get to work on a real farm, the way colonial settlers did!” She paused again, smiling brightly, waiting for the students to cheer. The twins exchanged a glance. Something about working on a farm just wasn’t as exciting as going skiing!

Principal Wagner cleared her throat. “Yes. Well, I’d like to ask the seventh-grade class officers Omar, Iris, Tessa, and Mark to pass out the informational packets now. Please read them with your parents over the weekend. We’ll be having a meeting for your parents next week to answer any questions they might have. But before school lets out for the weekend—” Principal Wagner was interrupted by more cheers. “—do any of you have questions? No? Okay, then please stay seated until the bell rings. You may talk quietly with your neighbor.”

As soon as Principal Wagner stepped away from the podium, everyone in the auditorium started talking and laughing excitedly. Molly and Amanda grinned at each other. “This is going to be so awesome!” exclaimed Molly. “I love skiing!”

The bell rang then, and the twins—like everyone else in the auditorium—jumped out of their seats, ready to start the weekend.

“Shawn! Let’s meet at the trophy case,” Molly hollered over the noise in the auditorium. Down in the front row, Shawn nodded and gave Molly and Amanda the thumbs-up sign.

It took about five minutes for the twins to get out of the auditorium as the crush of students slowly made its way through the double doors. A few minutes later, the girls met up in the front hall.

“Everybody ready to brave the cold?” asked Natasha, wrapping her fuzzy scarf around the lower part of her face. The girls nodded, bracing themselves for the blast of icy air when they opened the doors.

Normally, when the five friends walked through their Brooklyn, New York neighborhood of Park Terrace, they chatted and laughed the whole way. But today they walked quickly and quietly through the icy wind. This January had been the coldest one on record.

Park Terrace seemed to have everything, with its dozens of delicious restaurants that served food from all over the world, its unique stores and cool boutiques, and its beautiful botanic garden. Plus, there were movie theaters, an ice-skating rink, and enormous Prospect Park, which had thick woods, a nature center, and rolling meadows that were perfect for summer picnics. Best of all, Park Terrace was only a short subway ride away from Manhattan, the heart of New York City! But during the coldest weeks of winter, most residents tried to stay indoors, going outside only for school, work, or trips to the grocery store.

The girls soon arrived at the Moores’ spacious brick townhouse on Taft Street. Molly was fumbling in her backpack, searching for her keys, when suddenly the front door swung open. Mom was home early!

“Come in, come in,” she exclaimed, holding the door open wide. “I’ve got a pot of cocoa on the stove. Let’s get you girls inside and warm you up!”

“Thanks, Mrs. Moore,” Shawn, Natasha, and Peichi chorused as they pulled off their hats, gloves, scarves, and coats in the front hall.

“What are you doing home already, Mom?” asked Amanda as she hung up her cranberry-colored parka. “Don’t you teach a four o’clock class on Fridays?”

Mrs. Moore smiled. “I do—but it was cancelled today! Brooklyn College closed at three o’clock because of the winter storm warning,” she explained. “Did you see that sky? We’ll be having a snowstorm, for sure.”

“Ugh!” groaned Peichi. “This is the third weekend in a row where it snowed on Friday. Why can’t the storms just wait until Monday? Then we’d get a snow day, too!”

The girls laughed as they followed Mrs. Moore down the hall. The sweet aroma of hot cocoa filled the cheery kitchen, the twins’ favorite room of the house. The warm yellow walls were complemented by beautiful blue and green tiles Mom had bought in Spain, and scrolled iron hooks from the ceiling held gleaming copper pots and pans. Cupboards with glass doors displayed Mom’s collection of colorful dishes, and a large baker’s rack against the wall held everything from cookbooks and potted herbs to a large mixer and a funny pitcher shaped like a cow. The twins couldn’t think of a better place to hang out with their friends and family.

“Matthew, stay away from the stove,” Mom said in her “warning” voice to the twins’ eight-year-old brother, who was leaning over the pot of simmering cocoa.

“It sure does!” Mom said with her loud laugh, reaching over to rumple Matthew’s brown hair before he could duck out of her reach. “Buddy, I think there’s a bag of marshmallows in the pantry. Would you check for me?”

In a flash, Matthew darted out of the room to look for the marshmallows, startling the family’s fat tiger cat, Kitty. Mom started ladling the creamy cocoa into seven large mugs. “So, what is Dish cooking tonight?” Mom asked.

“It’s an easy job,” Peichi spoke up. “Just two breakfasts and two dinners for Mr. Peterson, who lives on my block. We’re gonna make blueberry muffins, a big pot of porridge, lasagna, and chicken potpie.”

Dish was a cooking business that the five friends had started during the summer before sixth grade. It all started one boring day when Molly and Amanda were stuck at home, sick of eating the take-out food their busy parents kept bringing home for dinner. Molly had the great idea that the twins should surprise their family by cooking dinner for them. Even though Amanda had been hesitant to cook an entire meal from scratch, it had been a huge success—and it tasted great! Soon, the twins were taking cooking classes at Park Terrace Cookware with Shawn, where they ran into Peichi and Natasha.

When the class ended, the girls started a cooking club, which quickly turned into a cooking business they called Dish. Many families in Park Terrace were just as busy as the Moores, and loved having the option of calling Dish for some delicious, fresh meals, instead of the same old takeout or frozen food. The Chef Girls, as they called themselves, were surprised by how quickly their business had taken off. Suddenly, they were catering fancy parties, appearing on TV, and helping others by fund-raising and donating food.

“Let me just call my mom to see if it’s okay,” Natasha added, tucking her chin-length blonde hair behind her ear. She ducked into the den to use the phone.

“Hi, Mom? ...School was good. Um, Mrs. Moore invited everyone to stay for dinner. Can I?” Please, Mom, she thought. Say yes!

“Well...” Mrs. Ross paused. Natasha could almost see her mother’s expression—she was surely biting her bottom lip as she thought. Mrs. Ross could be pretty strict, and she usually liked to have more notice about Natasha’s plans.

“Oh, Mom! Guess what!” exclaimed Molly, slapping her forehead. “We had an assembly today about the seventh-grade class ski trip!”

“We’re going to a farm in Vermont to see how colonial settlers lived,” Amanda broke in. “There’s a meeting next week for parents to get more information.”

Mrs. Moore walked over to the large calendar on the wall where she and Dad kept track of the family’s busy schedules. “Great. When is the meeting?”

“Right. Oh, hang on, I’ll be right back!” Molly raced to the living room where Mom kept all of the family photo albums. She flipped through a few until she found the one she was looking for, then returned to the kitchen. “Check out these pictures!” she said with a laugh. “We were so little!”

Everyone gathered around Molly as she opened the album, which was full of pictures from the vacation the Moores and the Jordans had taken to Mount Snow, New Hampshire.

“Look at the twins in their snowsuits!” giggled Natasha as she glanced at a photo of Amanda in a pink-and-silver snowsuit with her arm around Molly, who was wearing a plain red one. “Even then they had their own styles.”

“That’s for sure,” said Molly, rolling her eyes. “I remember Amanda wanted us to have matching snowsuits that year, but I refused to wear that pink thing!”

As everyone laughed, Amanda shook her head and poked her sister playfully. “I should have known then that Molly was a lost cause!”

Though Molly and Amanda were identical twins, it had always been easy to tell them apart. The twins had the same pale skin and freckles, bright green eyes, and long brown hair, but their styles were completely opposite. Amanda was the fashion-conscious twin. She kept up with all the latest styles and loved anything girly and glittery. Molly was more into casual, comfortable clothes. She preferred high-top sneakers to high-heeled boots, and jeans to jewelry.

Shawn stared at the picture of herself as a child, standing between her parents. In the picture, Shawn was smiling at the camera. Mrs. Jordan was laughing, and Mr. Jordan was smiling affectionately at her.

After a moment, Shawn cleared her throat. “Yeah. This trip was...was right before my mom found out she was sick,” she said, trying to sound normal. “We didn’t know...” Her voice trailed off as she thought, We didn’t know so much—that she was already sick, that she was going to die...

Across the table, Amanda was sending Molly a worried glance. Then her voice cut through Shawn’s thoughts. “You okay?” she asked lightly, putting her hand on Shawn’s arm.

Just then, Matthew came barreling into the kitchen, carrying a thick album over his head. “I want to look at these pictures!” he announced. “These are my favorite ones.” He dropped the heavy album on the table with a loud thud and opened it. On the first page was a picture of Mrs. Moore, hugely pregnant, taking the twins to school on the first day of kindergarten.

“Wow. Is that what my mom is gonna look like?” Peichi asked. Peichi had been an only child for twelve years, but in a few months, that was going to change—her mother was expecting a baby!

“I was so jealous when Matthew was born!” Shawn admitted with a smile. “I wanted a baby brother or sister so badly. I thought it would be like having a really cool doll to play with. But the very first time I held Matthew, he spit up in my hair!”

“Oh, yes, you did,” teased Amanda. “You threw up on everyone—Mom, Dad, Molls, me, Aunt Livia, Poppy. We used to call you Splat-hew!”

“Better a barfy baby than a fussy baby,” Mrs. Moore said wisely. “Some babies just cry and cry and cry—no matter what you do, you can’t quiet them down.”

As everyone laughed again, Molly cleared her throat. “Well, let’s get to work,” she said. “This job will be so easy that maybe some of us should help Mom make dinner.”

Molly, Shawn, and Natasha split up the Peterson job—Natasha took over breakfast, making a pot of hearty, filling porridge and a tray of scrumptious blueberry muffins; Shawn made the lasagna; and Molly put together the chicken potpie. Mom directed Amanda and Peichi on the tacos. Mom fried some tortillas in hot oil until they were golden and crispy, and Peichi browned the ground beef with minced onions and chili powder. Amanda washed and chopped tomatoes, lettuce, olives, and made guacamole with some ripe avocados. Matthew helped, too, by grating some cheddar cheese. When he thought no one was looking, he snuck a bite.

Mr. Moore stood in the doorway, still wearing his heavy parka. The creases of his jacket were covered with fine, powdery snow, and his graying hair was wet and matted with melting snowflakes.

Mom brushed the snow off Dad’s coat and fluffed up his wet hair. “This is perfect ski snow,” she said over her shoulder to the Chef Girls.

“We all are!” exclaimed the twins. “The seventh-grade class is going on a ski trip over Presidents’ Day weekend,” Amanda added.

“That’s fantastic!” Dad said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go warm up—and dry off—before we eat. Right now, I feel like the abominable snowman!”

“Hurry up,” Mom called after him. “These tacos will be ready to eat in about five minutes—and they smell so good that I don’t know how many we’ll be able to save you if you’re not down here!”