14

LIKE EVERYTHING LATELY, THE CAFETERIA IS THE same but not. Ashley’s already sitting with Farrah by the time I line up. They hunch behind their lunch boxes whispering and shooting looks over to where David Verdon sits with a loud group of his friends. Last night, Mom and I had dinner with Grampa. Mom got takeout from the Icon. It wasn’t quite the same, but it wasn’t too bad. Mr. Curtis joined us, Grampa laughed out loud three times, and Mom even joined in once. I’d rather be back in the Whispering Pines cafeteria than here.

Mrs. Kirkpatrick keeps us busy enough that Ashley ignoring me first period is bearable. But by lunchtime, there’s no pretending everything is fine.

I smile back at Mrs. Brandon as she doles out my chicken nuggets. When I turn toward table 4, Jasper and McKenna are deep into chatting, maybe about something Rube Goldberg related. Sitting in a certain row on the bus is one thing but changing tables in the cafeteria is like a public declaration that my friendship with Ashley is over.

I stand there for a minute with my tray, looking from one table to the other, and think about the first time Grampa broke our number one rule: Don’t climb into dumpsters. Aside from being disgusting, there’s a chance of injury. Plus, there are some new dumpsters that have a locking motorized lid and a compressor; it’d be like getting stuck in a smaller version of the trash compactor in Return of the Jedi. But once Grampa and I opened up what turned out to be a mostly empty dumpster. Empty, except for the bottom, which was littered with marbles. Grampa tucked his lips into a thin line and said, “Sometimes the risk is worth the reward.” Then he climbed in.

Friends seem every bit as hard to pass up as marbles. I tuck my lips into a thin line, walk over, and sit down by Jasper.

“So, Mom said we can pick you up before her competition. It’s still almost three weeks away, but she likes to plan in advance. She’ll check in with your mom about it when she goes to visit Grampa today.”

Jasper claps. “I already asked. My mom and dad are so happy I’m making friends here, I think they’d let me go anywhere. What’s the theme again?”

“A Night in Paradise.” I pop a whole nugget in my mouth.

“Oh, sounds like the prom. If you could make a table, what would it be?” McKenna asks. “Mine would have something to do with rainbows. And I don’t mean like rainbows and unicorns, but refraction, reflection, and dispersion of light. Imagine it.” McKenna waggles her fingers in the air. “Eating in a natural phenomenon.”

Jasper stares at me for a second of quiet before we all crack up. But it’s not in a mean way. McKenna laughs too.

“What about you? Has your mom ever let you pick her theme?” McKenna asks.

I almost choke on a nugget and manage to shake my head. “There are only a few competitions where the tablescaper gets to choose the theme. But Mom plans her tables for months. She’d never let me pick.” I chew and think. “But I’d set the whole table with items that were special, somehow tell a story, not just stuff I ordered online.” If it were only me and Jasper, I might bring up heart finds.

But it’s like Jasper thinks of it too. “Oh, hey, what’d your mom say about the bowls? Did she love them?” he asks.

I shrug. “I haven’t shown her yet. She probably won’t use them.”

Jasper scrunches his face. “Why not? They’re beautiful. Besides, her table theme is A Night in Paradise and the bowls were called Moon and Stars. Seems like a perfect fit.”

“Maybe,” I say, but Mom’s version of perfect means flawless and definitely not preowned.

“Hmm. It wouldn’t be too hard to do with a properly placed light source. What are the rules on that?” McKenna rubs her chin, lost in thought.

“There can’t be anything on the floor,” I say.

Jasper laughs. “She’s stuck on her rainbow table.”

I nod as McKenna furrows her brow.

“What about hanging from the ceiling?” she asks.

“I’m pretty sure that’s against the rules too.”

“Hmm,” she says. “If the whole table were done in white and the centerpiece was made entirely of prisms and we put a light source in the middle, it could still work.”

McKenna talks the whole rest of lunch about science-themed tables. She is going on about one where everything emits steam, achieved by heating a wet tablecloth. I suggest all the items on the menu are served steamed as well.

“It could look like a rain forest,” I say.

“Perfect.” McKenna’s eyes go wide. “I can see it. Can’t you? Ferns and orchids and vines everywhere. Think your mom would go for it?”

No way, no how. “Maybe.”

“Oh, we could get some dry ice and create a little fog. Forget Rube Goldberg machines, let’s change the face of tablescaping.” McKenna bangs the table and Jasper and I laugh. I leave lunch feeling better than I have all week.

We pick up our conversation as soon as I get on the bus, and when we approach Whispering Pines Jasper stands and says, “This is me.”

“Hey, maybe I could get off here Monday and visit Grampa,” I say.

“You totally should. On bingo day the prizes are Jell-O, pudding, and lottery scratch-off tickets. Most exciting spot in town.” We wave to each other once he’s on the sidewalk. It’s the first time that seeing Whispering Pines doesn’t feel strange. Maybe it’s thinking of Jasper there with Grampa.

At my stop, Ashley gets off and walks toward her house without looking back, but the only reason I notice is because I turn around to wave to McKenna.

I walk in, toss my backpack onto the couch, and notice another one of Mom’s books on the counter. Move Forward with Forward Thinking and only two sticky notes this time. I roll my eyes just as Mom bursts through the front door.

“Help,” she mumbles behind a tower of boxes.

Our dining table is set up in a trial run for her A Night in Paradise competition. In no time Mom has unboxed her new purchases and stands with one hand on her hip and her mouth in a concentrated pucker. She crouches at the corner of the table, closes one eye, then walks around and repeats her inspection at another corner before asking, “Hey, hon. How was your day?”

“It was actually great.”

Mom pauses to look up at me. “That’s good news.” She points to the table. “What do you think? I was up all night trying to get the crystal placement to look random but also purposeful.”

How can something be random and on purpose at the same time? I reach to touch one of the larger crystals, and Mom swats my hand. “Not until I take a photo. I’ve got about three weeks left to really make this table shine, but I just don’t think I’ve found the spark yet, know what I mean? There’s a lot riding on this win.”

“Hmm,” I say, because I don’t have a clue.

“What do you think of the new addition?” She motions to a fresh-from-the-box silver telescope rising from the middle of her centerpiece. It reminds me of a submarine’s periscope emerging from the sea. The telescope isn’t real. Judging from the box, she found it on DiscountDeskDécor.com. What good is a telescope that will never see a single star?

“Jasper is really excited about regionals,” I say.

“I’m glad you’re making some new friends.” Mom smiles as she gets out her phone to document the placement of everything. “Look at this.” She shows me a picture. “I’ve been working on it for weeks at Pattie’s. It may be my best showstopper yet.” It’s a giant globe in solid navy and covered in delicate silver drawings of constellations. She does some of her trial runs in the back room at Pattie’s. Sometimes I don’t see all that Mom’s cooked up for a table until we set it.

“I have something to show you too. Just a sec.” I rush to my room. They’re still covered in newspaper, on the floor at the foot of my bed. I carry the dessert bowls into the kitchen, place them on the counter, and slowly unwrap each one, waiting for Mom to notice. She makes her way to the last corner of the table and squints, moving her head from side to side like one of those dancing cobras in a basket.

Mom only looks up after I make a big show of clearing my throat. I’ve done a little research on the bowls since I got them. “These are from the L. E. Smith Glass Company. The cut in the glass is called ‘Moon and Stars,’ and these are special because they’re marked.” I lift one up and turn it over for Mom to see the little S, G, and C insignia on the bottom. “Not exactly a one-of-a-kind, but still unique.”

“They’re pretty,” Mom says. “I bet Grampa would love to hear all about them tonight at dinner.” Mom adjusts a single crystal, steps back to eye it, and then takes more pictures. “I can’t believe I’m one win away from my first appearance at the Expo. I’ve been dreaming up a table for the National Expo for three years. My mock-up is at the store, but Pattie thinks something is missing. Wait until you see it. I’ve made the centerpiece out of real leather cowboy boots!”

“They’re in near perfect condition.” I motion to the dessert bowls again and try to open my heart up and hope that maybe something special will happen. But Mom is too focused on adjusting her silverware. “Only one has the tiniest of nicks around the base. Good thing you only have to do two table settings.”

Mom’s checking the placement of her soup spoon with a ruler. She’s humming Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off”; that song is like her anthem.

“I think they’re perfect for your table.”

That gets Mom’s attention. She straightens, her face stuck somewhere between shock and fear. “This table?”

“You said you wanted to do some of these competitions together.” I grab the back of one of the barstools. “Well, this is my idea to make your table stand out from the rest. To make it more than perfect.”

Mom crosses her arms and blows an escaped curl out of her face. “Mabel, there’s nothing wrong with perfect. For goodness’ sake, that’s what the word means.” She grabs her measuring tape. “Besides that, I wouldn’t want to break up your set.”

She clicks the button, begins measuring the drape of the tablecloth, and doesn’t even seem to notice when I leave.

I plop onto my bed. Moments later Mom knocks, but this time she doesn’t come in. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” Her voice is muffled by the door. “But I could start my own business with a national win under my belt, not to mention what opportunities might come from an appearance on Top Table. I’m not sure it’s the right time to take chances. Want to talk about it?”

“No,” I say, and hear her sigh before she walks away.

My Amberina basket flickers its colors on my bedspread before they dwindle away in the late afternoon sun. All the good feelings from my day, from Jasper and McKenna, fade too.

I need Grampa back home, and baby clothes aren’t going to do the trick.

Holiday season is closing in and that means shelves will be restocked with Halloween, Thanksgiving, and even Christmas merchandise, getting rid of the old to make room for the new. There’s only one spot in Abner close enough for me to bike where there are stores all crammed together.

One haul from the dumpsters at the Merkle Creek Mall and I’ll show Mom I can make a difference. Like Grampa said, sometimes the risk is worth the reward. Trash to cash, here I come.