Except there’s no disaster at the end of theMadelinebook, only a roomful of little girls wanting what they don’t have.
I take a deep breath, pushing Miss Clavel and her girls backto Paris. Dissatisfaction can lead to disaster almost as much as panicking when nothing is wrong.
Brie cracks open the door. “You’re early.” She looks at Charlotte and then me as if we’ve made a major faux pas.
“Just a couple minutes.” I point back toward the sidewalk. “Should we wait in the car?”
“No, that would be silly.”
“It’s all starting to seem a little silly to me.”
“Give me a minute.” But Brie doesn’t move, standing in front of us as if she’s guarding the entry into the foyer. She’s a few inches shorter than me so I glance over her shoulder, wondering where Oscar and Owen are. Something moves behind her, but I don’t see either boy.
Charlotte turns toward me. “Let’s go get a cup of coffee.”
“You don’t drink coffee.” I tilt my head. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” My sister steps onto the porch, and when she inches the door closed behind her, I know something is definitely not right. A horrific thought pierces my mind, my imagination succumbing to the worst possible scenario.
Are the boys and even Ethan inside with some sort of intruder? Perhaps Brie can’t say anything or someone will hurt her family.
I lower my voice. “Is everyone safe?”
“Yes,” she assures me, “just not quite ready for dinner.”
“I’ll help you get ready.”
A minivan pulls into the driveway beside the house, parking in front of the garage. Brie groans when the passenger door opens and a petite woman steps out—Jenna Sainte, a friend from church. Her husband walks around to the back of the van.
Brie swipes her hand over her head. “Now they’ve spoiled it.”
“Spoiled what?” I ask, exasperated. Then slowly, like saptrickling down a tapped maple tree, it hits me. Brie’s secrecy and her strangeness when I told her I needed to go to Columbus today. Charlotte’s insistence that we return home for dinner instead of going to the mall.
I turn back toward my sister, my words processing the slow revelation. “You’ve planned a party.”
“Of course I’ve planned a party!”
Anxiety clenches my chest. “But my birthday’s not for another week.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to surprise you next week.”
My legs feel wobbly. She probably would have still surprised me, but not like this.
“I know you’re not big on surprises,” Brie says, apologizing in one sense, but not relenting.Not big on surprisesis stating it quite mildly.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, but the quaking has traveled into my voice as I eye the door. Exactly how many people are waiting on the other side?
Charlotte reaches for my arm, this time steadying me. “Everyone needs a surprise party once in her life.”
Jenna steps to the porch and gives me a hug. “Happy birthday.”
“Thank you.”
Brie plants both fists on her hips. “You were supposed to park around the back.”
“Oh no.” Jenna’s smile falls. “Have we ruined it?”
“No,” I assure her. “I’m still going to act surprised.”
