Wedding Drama (3 page)

Everyone turns to her in surprise.

“Yeah,” Yolanda agrees. “Everyone knows
buenos días.
”

***

“What else does he look like?” Deja asks as they're walking home from school.

Nikki sighs. Deja's already asked that, but Nikki doesn't have anything more to add. “He just looks ordinary.”

Deja frowns. Nikki knows she is wondering how their beloved Ms. Shelby can have a fiancé who just looks ordinary.

“What was he wearing?” Deja asks.

“Pants and a shirt and a jacket.”

“How did he act?”

“Kind of quiet.”

“Like how quiet?” Deja asks.

“I don't know. Just quiet.”

Nikki can tell that Deja is disappointed. As a future writer, Nikki should have more details. But there just aren't any more.

“Can you draw a picture of him?”

“No, I can't draw a picture of him. You know I don't draw good.”

“I wish I had seen him,” Deja says. “I bet I could draw a picture of him. It's not fair that you got to see him and you can't even draw a picture of him.”

“But you'll be able to see him at the wedding,” Nikki reminds her.

Deja doesn't say anything. She's suddenly busy looking at her aunt's car in their driveway.

Nikki finds that strange. It's too early for Deja's aunt to be home. Usually Deja has to wait a while at Nikki's until her Auntie Dee gets home from work.

“See you later, Nikki,” Deja says, turning up her walkway.

Nikki practically dances into her house. Her mother is on the telephone, and it's all she can do not to interrupt her—as she's been warned not to do so many times in the past. But her mother's conversation seems to go on and on and on. It's torture. Several times it really seems as if she's just about to get off the phone, but then she starts up again on a whole different topic. Finally Nikki places herself smack-dab in front of her mother, standing there very still but with a pained look on her face.

At last her mother says, “Flo, let me call you back. Nikki just got home, and I think she needs to tell me something.”

As soon as the receiver is back in its charger, Nikki bursts out with, “Mommy, you're not going to
believe
what happened today!”

Her mother smiles. “What happened?” she asks.

“First, we all found out that Ms. Shelby is getting married in less than two weeks!”

“Oh, my, how wonderful,” her mother says, sounding pleased.

“But that's not the best part,” Nikki rushes on. “Look what I got.” She rummages in her backpack. Tucked away in her math book—so it wouldn't get bent—is the beautiful white engraved invitation with all the personal information about her teacher's wedding. Nikki slips it out of the envelope, then runs her fingertips over the embossed letters. At the top of the invitation are the words:
Mr. and Mrs. Floyd Shelby request the honor of your presence...

“Ms. Shelby's first name is Felicia, and her parents are Mr. and Mrs. Floyd Shelby!” Nikki exclaims.

“Well, you know she had to have a first name, and she had to have parents. But where did you get that invitation?”

“From Ms. Shelby!”

“Ms. Shelby gave you an invitation to her wedding?”

“Yes, Mom.... Ms. Shelby really wanted to invite her whole class, but she could only invite two students. So she had this drawing where she put everyone's name in an old tissue box. And then she took out two names—without looking. All fair and square. And she pulled out my name. And, guess what else!”

Nikki's mom looks like she's mentally running to catch up and take it all in. “What?” she asks.

“The other name she pulled was
Deja's!
”

“What? Oh, my.”

“It was fair and square. Ms. Shelby said. It was all fair and square.”

“I'm sure it was,” Nikki's mom says slowly. “What a coincidence.”

Nikki races on to other things. “Mom, I need to get a present for Ms. Shelby, and I need to get a new dress and new shoes, because my old ones pinch, and I need to get my hair done—”

“Wait. Hold on, Nikki. Let me see that invitation.”

Nikki hands it over, and she and her mother stare down at it. The wedding is less than two weeks away.
Less than two weeks!

 

Deja runs up her porch steps. She's in a hurry to see why Auntie Dee is home so early. She finds her in the living room, just hanging up the telephone. Deja feels happy—happy and puzzled at the same time. At least she won't have to wait a long time to tell Auntie her good news.

The serious expression on Auntie's face worries Deja for some reason. And the way Auntie Dee carefully puts the receiver back onto the charger. She turns to look at Deja without speaking. Deja doesn't think she's going to like what Auntie has to say.

“Come here, Deja, and sit down.”

Uh-oh,
Deja thinks as she takes her place next to her aunt.

“I have bad news,” Auntie Dee says.

Deja doesn't like her serious tone. She braces herself.

“There have been some layoffs at work.”

This isn't sounding good.

“The theater company is struggling with raising money, so they've had to let some people go—just for a while,” Auntie adds quickly.

Deja wonders if Auntie Dee is one of the “let go” people. She holds her breath.

“I'm afraid they've had to let me go.” Auntie smiles slightly. “Just for a while. I'm sure I'll be back to work in no time.”

Deja thinks about this. “Does that mean we won't have any money?” she asks carefully.

“We won't have as much,” Auntie Dee says.

Deja thinks some more. Finally she asks, “Are we going to be homeless?” That last word is so scary. She's seen lots about homeless people on the news. Maybe they'll have to live in Auntie's car and wash their clothes in a gas station bathroom. Maybe Nikki's parents will let them live with them. Even that thought isn't very pleasant. Anyone would get tired of having extra people in the house after a while.

“No, sweetie,” Auntie says, laughing. Deja feels a little better. “We're not going to be homeless.”

Still, Deja wonders. How can Auntie really know that?

“We're just going to have to tighten our belts.”

Immediately Deja thinks about what this could mean. She doesn't think it will allow for a new dress and new shoes and a wedding present. She doesn't think it will mean anything good. It could mean just eating out of their garden. Or maybe they'll only be able to eat the food that you dig out of a bin with a shovel at the health food store—like beans and yucky grains. No more good-tasting stuff that comes already measured and packaged.

That night, Deja goes to bed picturing Auntie sitting at one of those big looms, weaving cloth for their clothes. Deja is pretty sure “tightening our belts” is not going to be fun.

 

She's still pondering this over her oatmeal the next morning when Nikki knocks on the kitchen door. She's come by to walk with her to school. Auntie is in her office doing something on the computer. Deja feels she has to tell Nikki, who seems eager to get to school. Deja can tell this from the way Nikki's staring at every bite of oatmeal Deja puts in her mouth.

“Oh, I have something for you,” Nikki says.

Deja looks up. “What?”

From her backpack, Nikki takes out a piece of folded paper. She unfolds it and places it on the table in front of Deja. “I tried to draw a picture of Ms. Shelby's fiancé. This is kind of what he looks like.”

Deja looks at Nikki's drawing. Nikki's right. She really can't draw.

“Ooh, ooh...” Nikki continues. “Guess what? I get to buy a new dress and get my hair done, and on Saturday my mom and me are going to Rendells, where Ms. Shelby is registered—you know, where they have a list of what she wants for a wedding present—and then we're going to look at the list and get her something from it. Like a blender or a Crock-Pot or maybe a fancy vase. Something like that—”

Deja cuts her off by sighing loudly. “Do we all the time have to be talking about Ms. Shelby's wedding?”

Nikki looks a little hurt. “We haven't been all the time talking about it.”

“Yes, we have. And I'm getting tired of it.”

“What's wrong with you?” Nikki asks.

Deja shakes her head. “Nothing.”

“Did you tell your aunt about Ms. Shelby?”

In a small voice Deja says, “Not yet.”

“You didn't tell her about the drawing and how Ms. Shelby picked our names and how we get to go to her wedding? And how you get to take your auntie as a guest, and I get to take my mom?”

“Not yet,” Deja says again.

“Why?”

“I just haven't told her yet.”

Nikki looks at her closely. “What is it, Deja?”

“I don't know if I want to go.”

“What?” Nikki exclaims, incredulous.

“Well, Auntie Dee might not be able to take me.”

“Then you can go with my mom and me.”

Deja sighs. She gets her backpack and heads for the door.

 

“Well, if you don't want to go, you
should
give someone else your invitation. Someone who'd probably be really happy to get it.”

Deja says nothing. For a few moments they walk along silently. Then Deja can't take it anymore. She has to tell Nikki what's going on.

“I have bad, bad news, Nikki. Bad, bad news.” She takes a deep breath. “I'm not going to be able to get a new dress, and I'm not going to be able to get Ms. Shelby a present, and I'm not going to be able to get my hair done. I'm not going to be able to get anything new for a long, long time because we're not going to have any money. Because my auntie doesn't have a job anymore!”

Nikki's mouth drops open. She looks almost frightened. “Really?” she gasps. Deja wonders if Nikki is already picturing her and Auntie Dee homeless and going to the food bank at that church on Marin.

“What is your auntie going to do, Deja?”

Deja shrugs. “I don't know.” Then she adds, “But don't tell anybody.”

The rest of the walk to school is quiet. It seems as if Nikki feels she needs to be careful, in light of this new situation. “Are you still going to live next door?” she asks as they go through the school gate.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Nikki sighs with relief.

The second bell has already rung. Now kids are walking to their lines. Nikki and Deja find their places and wait for Ms. Shelby to come and get them.

“Look at this,” Rosario says from behind Deja. She has drawn a picture of Ms. Shelby's fiancé.

Nikki looks at the picture and shakes her head. “He doesn't look anything like that,” Nikki says. “Not even a little bit.”

 

Ms. Shelby has put “Open” on the board for their morning journal topic. Usually this presents a challenge to Deja. Nikki is the one who likes to write, not Deja. She pulls out her journal and stares at the cover, which she's decorated with big and little stars. She admires that for a bit, then opens it to the first clean page. Across the top she writes: “Bad Bad News.”

 

Bad Bad News

I'm getting ready to have some hard hard times. My auntie Dee told me yesterday that we're going to have to tighten our belts, because she doesn't have her job anymore. At her work they ran out of money or a lot of people werent donating enough money to the place where she works and they had to let some people go. This is strange because it makes it sound like people want to go and someone has to let them. But I know my auntie did not want to go. She loved her job because it was mostly fun and she got to meet a whole bunch of different people and she said it didn't even feel like work. That's why Shes sad that she doesn't have it any more. So we're not going to be able to get goodies from the Store or any new Stuff and maybe we'll have to Start taking the bus because of expensive gas and maybe we'll have to grow all our own food and make our own ice cream, And maybe I'll have to wear shoes even when they get too Small and pinch. But I'm glad I have a house now and it's Still warm and I have my own bed and my own desk and closet and I Still have clothes hanging in my closet but I might have to wear them a long time even when they get too little. Maybe my auntie can learn to weave cloth and Sew that cloth and make me new clothes and