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Authors: Belle Payton

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Ava's eyebrows rose in a question. She loved when her sister was super enthusiastic about something. Her words tended to tumble out of her like coins from a slot machine.

“That means ‘seize the day,' and basically that's about enjoying the moment you're in
while you're in it, because who knows what will happen tomorrow.”

Ava smiled. “That's usually my philosophy—living in the moment—but not necessarily on purpose,” she joked. “I'm glad you like your class. And don't look now, but here comes Lindsey.”

“Hey, y'all!” said Lindsey brightly. She was wearing black-and-white stripes from head to toe—a matching T-shirt and cropped pants—and orange flats. Even Ava, who thought dressing for Spirit Week was kind of dumb, had to concede she looked stunning.

“So, Alex! What's this I hear about a certain guy of yours?” Her tone was warm and genuine.

“What?” asked Alex, totally confused.

Ava gave her a subtle elbow jab in the ribs.

“Ow! Oh!” Alex clearly remembered, and tried to recover. “Oh, yeah.” She feigned a giggle. “Yeah, good old Charlie.”

“Can't wait to hear about him!” said Lindsey.

The bell rang, and Lindsey skipped off down the hallway.

“Be sure you come sit with us at the game Friday, okay?” she said over her shoulder.

“Fabulous!” squeaked Alex.

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

Disaster struck Thursday afternoon, a hot and sultry day, as the twins were walking toward Le Pain to make the final preparations for the surprise anniversary dinner. Alex carried a small bouquet of daisies, which were Mrs. Sackett's favorite. They'd looked everywhere around their neighborhood for them without success, and so Alex had had the idea to special order them from an actual florist's shop. She'd picked them up after school the day before and had carefully kept them in water inside her locker. Now in the afternoon heat they were already looking a little droopy.

Ava carried the present their dad was going to give to their mom. It was wrapped in a little
box with a purple ribbon. They had arranged to bring everything to Madame Nicole in advance of the dinner.

“Huh, just got a text from Daddy,” said Alex with a frown, glancing at her phone.

“Me too,” said Ava, pulling out her own phone.

The girls opened their messages at the same time.

Neither one said anything, although Alex let out a tiny gasp.

Then they looked at each other.

“This cannot be happening,” said Alex. She felt hot tears springing to her eyes. Even cool, calm Ava looked distressed.

“How could there be a pep rally tonight?” wailed Alex.

“Well, duh, of course there's a pep rally tonight, now that I think of it,” said Ava. “The question is, why didn't Coach or Tommy think of it? I mean, it's been Spirit Week all week long. It makes total sense that there'd be a pep rally tonight, the night before the first game of the season.”

“Maybe he won't have to go!” said Alex, but she knew perfectly well she was wrong. Of
course the head coach of the team would have to go. He'd probably be expected to make a speech.

They leaned against the side of a brick building, near an antique storefront a few doors away from Le Pain. Alex could feel the heat of the bricks through her shirt.

Ava snapped out of it first. She tapped at her phone.

“Who are you calling?” asked Alex, sniffling.

“Coach.”

“Daddy? He has practice!”

“Not for three more minutes,” she said grimly, and held the phone to her ear. “And he just sent that text, so he'll still have his phone in his hand.”

Alex swallowed back a huge lump that had risen in her throat.

“Coach,” said Ava, and her tone was businesslike, not accusatory. “We just got your text.” (Pause.) “I know.” (Pause.) “I know. It's fine.” (Pause.) “I know.” (Pause.) “I know.” (Much longer pause.)

Alex hopped from one foot to the other, wishing she'd thought to get Ava to put him on speakerphone.

“Okay, but we have a plan,” said Ava.

“We do?” whispered Alex.

“Yes, we do,” said Ava into the phone, because Coach must have asked the same question. “We're almost at the restaurant. We're going to tell Madame Nicole to move the reservation to six fifteen, and we'll have them make the food ahead, so it will be waiting for you when you get here. You hustle from practice just as it ends, at six. The pep rally is at seven. That should give you forty-five minutes for dinner.” She paused again while he spoke. “Yes.” (Pause.) “Yes.” (Pause.) “Yes. I know. We are the best. No one is better than we are. Yup. Bye.”

She hung up.

“Well?” Alex asked anxiously.

“I think we're going to be okay,” said Ava. “You go to the restaurant and preorder the food and talk to them about the schedule change. Madame Nicole told us she wouldn't accept any other reservations or walk-ins before seven p.m., so they could have the restaurant all to themselves, and this won't change that. It'll just be a faster dinner.”

“A much faster dinner,” said Alex glumly.

Ava continued, all business. “I'll text Mrs. Cahill and tell her to get Mom there fifteen
minutes earlier. Then I'll run over to the stadium and find Coach Byron. I'll ask him to have Coach out of there as early as humanly possible after practice ends. And then I'll track down Tommy and tell him to call the musician and ask him or her to be there fifteen minutes earlier. They'll have forty-five minutes to celebrate their anniversary before he has to go to the pep rally. It's not ideal, but it'll be better than nothing.”

Alex took a step back and regarded her sister with newfound admiration. “Ave! You're so organized. You sound like me! Only much more efficient! What's gotten into you?”

Ava grinned and shrugged. “I think now that I know my disorganization and lack of focus have a name, and that I can do something about them, I actually feel better. More organized and focused. Go figure.”

“I'm glad for you,” Alex said. “But I'm worried about how Mom is going to respond. Did you see how quiet she was at breakfast this morning? She didn't even mention their anniversary. I bet she's convinced Daddy has forgotten it. She was probably waiting for him to wish her a happy anniversary, and he didn't. I hope this isn't going to end in tragedy.”

“Me too,” said Ava grimly. “Now let's get going. We have a job to do.”

Coach walked into the restaurant at 6:01, frazzled and anxious. But his dripping hair told Alex he'd showered, and he'd even managed to put on a collared shirt and dress pants. Alex could hardly believe it.

“Daddy!” she exclaimed, pulling him toward the table. “How did you get out of practice so early? I thought it ended at six!”

Coach shot Ava a look. “Coach Byron booted me at five forty-five,” he said. “Told me he'd handle the end of practice and the team talk. He practically slammed the locker room door in my face.”

Ava looked up at the ceiling and whistled innocently.

“Well, you look awesome,” said Alex. “I mean, dapper.”

Coach and Ava looked at each other and laughed.

“It's a shame Tommy can't be here to witness the surprise,” said Alex.

“I agree,” said Coach. “But the whole team is expected to shower and head straight to the pep rally—I can't do anything about that. Your mother will understand.”

“She's going to be here any minute,” said Ava, glancing at the clock on her phone.

Coach admired the table. The daisies were arranged in a low cut-crystal vase. Golden light from the votive candles made the silver sparkle and the china glint. He spied Madame Nicole hovering in the background and gave her a thumbs-up. She beamed.

Suddenly he turned toward the girls in a panic.

“A present,” he croaked. “I forgot to get her a present.”

Alex held out the box with the purple ribbon. “We're all over that, Daddy,” she said, and giggled.

“What did I get her?”

“Your varsity ring,” she said. “Ava and Tommy and I chipped in and got a silver chain for it so Mom could wear it around her neck, as if you guys were in high school.”

“It was Alex's idea,” said Ava gallantly.

He marveled at her. “It's perfect, sweetie.
She'll love it.” He looked around. “Why are there no other people in the restaurant?”

Madame Nicole stepped out from behind the antique polished bar. “Good evening, Monsieur Sackett,” she said.

Alex loved the way she'd pronounced it:
Sah-KET
.

“We were actually planning to be closed tonight,” she explained. “We have found that 'istorically, we have very little business on the nights before 'ome football games. And of course tomorrow night we will be open quite late, after ze game, for those who desire a late-night supper.”

“That's mighty kind of you, Madame Nicole,” said Coach. “I'm sorry about all the confusion with the pep rally. You and my daughters have certainly saved the day!”

“She's here!” yelled Ava from the window, where she'd set up surveillance.

Madame Nicole hurried to the door and pulled it open.

Mrs. Cahill entered first, leading a blindfolded Mrs. Sackett.

Mrs. Sackett was giggling. “This is rather elaborate, April. Where on earth are we going?”

Mrs. Cahill didn't answer, but led Mrs. Sackett over to the table, where Coach had leaped up to pull out her chair. Then he untied the blindfold.

Mrs. Sackett blinked and looked around, a bewildered expression on her face. “Michael! Alex? Ava? What on earth—,” she said. “I thought we were having a girls' night!”

“Happy anniversary!” yelled Ava and Alex at the same time.

Mrs. Sackett's eyes widened. She clapped both her hands to her mouth.

Ava bent over in silent laughter. Then she stood and whispered into Alex's ear. “She totally forgot it was their anniversary! She's as bad as Coach!”

Mrs. Cahill congratulated them, gave Mrs. Sackett a quick hug, patted Coach on the shoulder, and left the restaurant.

Coach helped their mom sit and gently pushed in her chair. “It was these girls of ours who arranged everything,” he said. “They planned this whole thing. We have the whole restaurant to ourselves. Can you imagine? A quiet dinner, just the two of us?”

Just then, music started playing.

Ava and Alex looked up, startled. It was live
music, but not a violin; it was lovely, sassy, jazzy music.

Madame Nicole wheeled away an accordion divider that had been obscuring part of the room near their parents' table, and which Alex hadn't even noticed hadn't been there the last time they visited the restaurant.

Behind it were Tommy and two of his friends. Tommy was still in his practice pads, his cheeks flushed with recent exertion and with traces of eye black still on his face, but he was sitting at a piano, playing as though he were wearing a snappy tuxedo. Next to him, a handsome high school boy tapped rhythmically on a drum set, and a girl in a sleek blue dress and shiny silver heels plucked away at a double bass.

Tommy glanced up at them and gave them a half smile without missing a beat.

The other four Sacketts gaped in astonishment.

“Aha, you see?” said Madame Nicole. “Even I can 'elp with the surprises!”

Mrs. Sackett dabbed away a tear from the corner of her eye with her table napkin. “Oh, Michael. Girls. It's perfect. It's just so lovely.”

“Yeah, about that,” said Coach, shifting uncomfortably in his chair and darting a glance toward the kitchen. “I'm afraid we don't have all the time in the world for dinner.” He glanced at his watch. “But at least we have, uh, thirty-two minutes together.”

“Pep rally?” asked Mrs. Sackett.

“Yes,” he said, nodding apologetically. “Which of course you know all about, because you probably helped plan it.”

Mrs. Sackett nodded, and reached across the table to clasp his hands in hers. “It's okay, honey,” she said. “Just the fact that you pulled this off is a miracle in itself.”

Ava whispered into Alex's ear. “It's turning goopy,” she said.

“Right,” said Alex quickly. “I think we should get going.”

“Yeah, we'll leave you two alone,” said Ava.

“For your quiet, romantic half hour together,” added Alex.

“Do you hear a noise?” asked Mrs. Sackett.

The door to the restaurant burst open.

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

A mob of people streamed into the restaurant. Just behind them was a large portion of the Ashland High School marching band. Tommy's trio stopped playing and settled back to watch, grinning. Ava stared at her brother. Was he in on this?

The band was playing the school song. In the small room, the noise was almost deafening. A gleaming sousaphone loomed above the crowd of heads, as well as a tuba and at least one trombone. Bringing up the rear was a blond-haired high school boy booming on the big bass drum. Ava was pretty sure she could see dishes vibrating.

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