Taking Off. Valerie Tripp

      

      Bridesmaids, Birthdays, and Brainstorms

       CHAPTER ONE

      en!” Maryellen Larkin exclaimed happily. “On my birthday, I’ll be ten.”

      Maryellen and her friends were walking home from school on a sunny April afternoon. Exuberantly, Maryellen sprang ahead of the other girls and then spun around to face them. “My birthday is Saturday, May seventh, which is coming soon, in just three weeks and a little bit.” Maryellen skipped backward, bouncing on her toes. “Oh boy! I’ve been waiting to be ten my whole life.”

      “Me, too,” said her friends, Karen King, Karen Stohlman, and Angela Terlizzi.

      “What kind of party are you going to have, Ellie?” asked Karen King, getting down to serious business. “Bowling?”

      “No, I did that last year,” said Maryellen. “And the year before that, miniature golf, and the year before that, a beach party. I want to do something new, something that no one’s ever done before.”

      “I know!” said Karen Stohlman. “You could have your party at the drive-in movie!”

      “And eat cake and ice cream in the car?” said Maryellen. “And open presents in the car? That won’t work.”

      “How about a Davy Crockett party? We’ll wear our coonskin caps,” said Karen King. Davy Crockett was everyone’s favorite television show. It was about an American hero, Davy Crockett, who lived in the wild mountains of Tennessee in the eighteen hundreds. All the kids had hats with long fur tails like the one Davy Crockett wore. Maryellen even had “Daisy Crockett” underwear with a female version of Davy on it. “Maybe your mom could make your birthday cake in the shape of a coonskin cap,” Karen King continued. “And we could all sing the TV show theme song.” Karen sang out loud and clear: “Davy, Davy Crockett, king of the wild frontier!”

      “No,” said Angela. “We’ll sing, ‘Ellie, Ellie Larkin, queen of Day-to-na Beach!’”

      This struck all four girls as hilariously funny, and they laughed hard until Karen King brought them down to earth by asking, “Speaking of Davy, will you invite Davy Fenstermacher to your party this year? You have every other year.”

      “That was back when we were friends,” said Maryellen. Davy Fenstermacher lived next door to the Larkins. He and Maryellen used to be best friends. They’d ride their bikes to school together, eat lunch together, and play together after school and on weekends. But they’d had a falling-out back at the beginning of the school year, and their friendship still was not repaired. Davy never even spoke to Maryellen anymore.

      “Davy wouldn’t come to my party if I asked him, now,” she said. “He’s too busy being best friends with Wayne.”

      “Wayne the Pain,” said Karen Stohlman.

      Maryellen said briskly, “Ten is too old to have boys at your birthday party anyway. You don’t have boys again until you’re teenagers in high school, and the boys are your boyfriends, and you play records and dance, sort of like a sock hop only at your house.”

      The girls were silent for a moment. They knew what a sock hop was: It was a dance where you took off your shoes and danced in your socks so that you wouldn’t scuff up the floor. They were trying to imagine even wanting to do such a thing as dance with a boy, especially one like Wayne, who, they felt certain, would only be more Wayne-ish and pain-ish in high school than he was now.

      “Joan told me about high school parties,” Maryellen added. “That’s how I know.”

      “Ah!” said the girls. They were in awe of Joan, Maryellen’s eldest sister, who was eighteen. They respected Joan as their highest authority on fashion, romance, and being grown-up. After all, Joan was engaged to her boyfriend, Jerry, who had been a sailor in the Korean War and was now in college. Joan and Jerry were already planning their wedding, which was to take place at the end of the summer. Maryellen was thrilled, because she was going to be a bridesmaid.

      Suddenly, she stopped short. “Oh!” she gasped. “I’ve just had a brilliant idea.”

      “What?” cried Angela, Karen, and Karen. “What’s your idea? Tell us!”

      Maryellen held up her hands, palms straight, to stop her friends from talking. “What if,” she began dramatically, “I have a movie-star birthday party and everyone comes dressed as her favorite movie star? I’ll be Debbie Reynolds and wear my bridesmaid dress.”

      “Oh, I love that idea!” said Karen King.

      “A movie-star party!” said Karen Stohlman. “Neato! No one has ever done that before!”

      The girls started naming all the most glamorous movie stars of 1955.

      “I’ll be Audrey Hepburn,” said Angela.

      “Dibs on Grace Kelly,” said Karen Stohlman.

      “I can’t decide if I want to be Elizabeth Taylor or Marilyn Monroe,” sighed Karen King. “Or maybe I’ll be a television star like Lucille Ball from I Love Lucy.”

      “Scooter could come as Rin Tin Tin or Lassie,” joked Maryellen. “I’ll be J. Fred Muggs, the chimpanzee!” She loped along the sidewalk, swinging her arms as if she were the famous television star chimpanzee.

      The girls laughed themselves breathless, and then Maryellen said, “Now I’m even more excited about my birthday!”

      “Me, too,” said Karen Stohlman. “I can’t wait to see your bridesmaid dress. I bet it’s gorgeous. What does it look like?”

      “Well,” said Maryellen. “It will be gorgeous, when it’s finished. Mom’s making it.”

      “Oh,” said the girls. They hesitated for a teeny, tiny second. “Good.”

      Maryellen knew what her friends were thinking, because she was thinking the same thing, too. They’d all had unfortunate experiences with their mothers making dresses as part of do-it-yourself crazes. Maryellen knew that her friends were too polite to say so, but dresses made by mothers did not always turn out very well.

      Angela was first to think of something optimistic to say. “Since your mom is making it, your dress will fit you perfectly,” she said.

      Maryellen grinned gratefully. “I certainly hope so,” she said. “Or else the movie star I’ll look like at my birthday party will be the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz!”

      “Ellie, honey, stand still,” said Mrs. Larkin.

      Maryellen held her breath. She was standing on a chair while Mom, kneeling and frowning with concentration, was pinning the tissue-paper dress pattern onto her to see where it would need to be taken in. Maryellen was as skinny as a flagpole, so Mom was using lots of pins. Maryellen noticed that Mom also seemed to be sighing a lot. Even Maryellen’s energetic imagination had to strain to imagine how a dress would emerge from the tissue-paper pattern. Pinned together, the paper pieces looked about as shapely as Scooter, the Larkins’ pudgy dachshund. Maybe it had been a mistake to beg Mom to make her bridesmaid dress first. Mom was also going to make bridesmaid dresses for Carolyn, Maryellen’s next oldest sister, who was fourteen, and Beverly, who was seven. Maybe, thought Maryellen, I should have waited until Mom knew what she