Soupy Saturdays With the Pain and the Great One (6 page)

But Fluzzy started licking his paws. He made that slurpy sound he makes when he’s grooming. It’s impossible to sleep while Fluzzy is grooming. So I carried him back to the Pain’s bed. Fluzzy gave me one of his looks. I know what he was thinking.
Why can
’
t Abigail make up her mind
? Then I ran back to my bed and dove under the covers.

Finally, I must have fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes it was morning. I
ran to my window. It was a gray, sleety winter day. I opened my window wide and stuck out my head.
Brrr—
it was freezing. But so what? For once, my party would be an inside party.

I ran through the house, checking to see who was awake.

Not the Pain.

Not Fluzzy.

And not Mom or Dad, either.

Maybe they forgot about my party
, I thought. I stood over them until Mom opened her eyes. She made room for me under her quilt. I snuggled next to her. She was warm and she smelled sleepy.

“Today’s your big day,” she said, quietly, so she wouldn’t wake Dad.

“I thought you forgot,” I said.

“How could I forget such an important event?” she asked.

That’s when Dad opened his eyes. He said, “What event?”

“My half birthday party,” I told him.

“Oh, that’s right,” Dad said. “Do I have to wear pink too?”

I laughed. “No, Dad. I don’t think pink is your color.”

Then the Pain came into the room and flopped on the bed. “My throat hurts. So does my head.”

“He’s just saying that!” I told Mom and Dad. “He’s just saying that because he wants to stay home and ruin my party.” As soon as I said it I felt bad because I could see he was really sick. He looked terrible.

“What party?” he whispered. He could hardly talk.

“My half birthday party,” I told him.

“Oh, that …” he said, as if he didn’t even care.

Dad felt his forehead. “He’s hot,” he said to Mom.

“Uh-oh,” Mom said.

Dad took him to Dr. Bender’s office. When they came back the Pain lay on the living room sofa. He said, “I have
to take medicine. I might throw up.”

“I’d better call the other mothers,” Mom said.

“What other mothers?” I asked.

“Your friends’ mothers. I have to tell them Jake is sick.”

“No … don’t tell them,” I begged. “Please don’t tell them. Let him go to Grandma’s house.”

“I can’t send him to Grandma’s house now,” Mom said. “That wouldn’t be fair to Grandma or Jake.”

“What about me?” I asked. “It’s not fair to me, either. This proves you love him better than me.”

“Honey,” Mom said, “I know this is disappointing, but …”

I felt tears stinging my eyes. I wanted
to go to my room, shut the door, lie on my bed, and cry.

Mom said, “Let’s see what the other mothers say.”

I already knew what Sasha’s mom would say. And I was right. She told Mom Sasha couldn’t come because Sasha gets asthma from every little cold.

Kaylee’s mom said Kaylee had been up all night, sick. She had a fever of a hundred and three, just like the Pain.

My party was falling apart.

But Emily’s mom said she could come. She said they don’t worry about germs in their family because they’ve got four kids and someone is always sick in winter. “Isn’t that good news?” Mom asked when she was off the phone.

“A party with just one friend?” I said.

“One friend is better than none,” Mom said.

When I called Emily she said, “Do I still have to wear pink?”

“Yes,” I told her. “It’s still a Princess in Pink party.”

“I hate pink,” she said.

But when she came to my party she was wearing a pink shirt. “I borrowed it from my sister,” she said. Then she handed me a present wrapped in pink paper. “Happy half birthday. It’s from Sasha and Kaylee, too.”

“Thank you,” I said. I opened the box. Inside was a pink book with blank pages and a sparkly pink pen. “I love it,” I told her. “It’s perfect.”

“Good,” she said. “I hate to give presents that no one likes.”

Then we sat at the table to make our princess tiaras. Each one came with a bag of jewels. You got to stick on the diamonds, rubies, and emeralds yourself.

Emily said, “These aren’t real jewels, are they?”

“No,” I told her. “Real jewels would cost zillions.”

“I thought so,” Emily said.

We wore our tiaras while we ate our pizza.

We wore them while we watched my favorite princess movie.

When the movie ended, Emily said, “I’ve never wanted to be a princess. I want to be a vet when I grow up. Or maybe an explorer.”

“You think I want to be a princess?” I asked.

“Don’t you?” she said.

“No—it’s just a party thing,” I explained.

“Oh,” she said. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Now I’ll never be able to tell her the truth. I’ll never be able to tell her that actually, I wouldn’t mind being a princess.

After the movie, Mom lit the candles on my cake. She and Dad and Emily sang “Happy Half Birthday” to me. That’s when the Pain came downstairs and into the kitchen. He was
carrying Fluzzy over his shoulder.

“Jake,” Mom said, “you’re supposed to be in bed.”

“Fluzzy smelled ice cream,” the Pain said.

“That’s impossible,” I told him. “A cat can’t smell ice cream from so far away. And neither can a human—especially a
sick
human.” I looked at Mom. “Make him go back to his room.”

“Ice cream would help Fluzzy’s sore throat,” the Pain said.

“Since when does Fluzzy have a sore throat?” I asked.

“He caught it from me.”

“Would Fluzzy like a scoop of vanilla?” Mom asked the Pain.

“If it’s the white vanilla,” he said. “Fluzzy doesn’t like the yellow vanilla.”

Emily looked at me. “What’s he talking about? Vanilla is vanilla.”

I didn’t even try to explain.

Dad said, “I’ll keep Jake company upstairs while Fluzzy has his ice cream.”

After we finished our cake and ice cream, Emily and I went up to my room. She looked at the two sleeping bags laid out side by side on the floor. Then she looked at me. Then
she looked back at the sleeping bags. Then she said, “I think I’ll go home now.”

“But it’s a sleepover party,” I reminded her. “You can’t go home. You’ll ruin everything if you go home now.”

“I’m sorry,” Emily said, “but I want to go home.”

“Is it because of my brother?”

“Your brother?” Emily said. “It has nothing to do with your brother.”

“Then what?” I asked, choking up.

“I just want to go home,” Emily said. She sounded choked up too.

I found Mom and told her Emily wanted to go home.

Mom asked Emily if she was feeling okay.

“Yes,” Emily said. “But I want to go home.”

“Are you sure?” Mom said.

Now Emily got teary for real. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Mom called Emily’s house. Her dad
explained that Emily has never slept over at
anyone
’
s
house. He said, “This was going to be her first time. But I guess she’s not ready yet.”

“Don’t be mad,” Emily said to me at the door. “It was a good party. I liked the cake. Can I take my tiara with me?”

I nodded.

My sleepover party, the one I’d waited for all my life, was over. And it wasn’t even nine o’clock. Mom put her arm around me. “This was the worst half birthday party in the history of the world,” I told her. I tried not to cry but it wasn’t easy.

“I’m sorry it didn’t turn out the way you’d hoped,” Mom said. “Maybe next year …”

But I didn’t want to think about next year.

The next morning the Pain came into the kitchen. “I need juice.”

Dad poured him a glass. He asked the Pain if he was feeling better.

“A little,” the Pain said. He eyed the two
extra tiaras on the counter. “Can I have one of those?” he said.

“You want to be a princess?” I asked.

“No, I just want a crown,” he told me.

“Help yourself,” I said. “I’m
so
over everything princess!”

He took a tiara and a bag of fake jewels. He stuck the jewels on the tiara. Then he put it on his head—backwards. He looked so silly I started to laugh.