Emma's Not-So-Sweet Dilemma (9 page)

After the holiday boutique, Mrs. Brown brought us all to Katie's to pick up our stuff, and we each headed home. I was pretty tired and looking forward to chilling at home and doing some homework, just to get it out of the way.

My mom hugged me when I walked in and said, “I missed you, angel!” and that made me hug her back extra hard.

“There's a message for you on the answering machine,” she said. “From Mona.”

“Interesting,” I said, and went to play it.

“
Hello
, darling. It's Mona for Emma. Darling, just to tell you I've finished with that loathsome man and will never work with him again. I cannot
wait
for you to come back to me for a show next week. Please ring to let me know if you're free
next Saturday. We've got a
lovely
designer's things to show, and she's as sweet as Mother Teresa. No more mean people! My apologies again for that horrible episode and kiss, kiss to you all, darlings! Ciao!”

I smiled. I was back in business!

“What was that all about?” asked my mom.

I reminded her about the Harry Rosner thing and told her what had happened this morning, then I filled her in on the rest of my day and, while I was at it, all the Olivia Allen stuff.

“Sweetheart! Why didn't you tell me any of this? I feel so awful that you've been going through this all alone!”

“I haven't been all alone, Mom! I have my friends!”

My mom smiled. “Yes, it's true. I guess you do.” She rubbed my back and gave me a squeeze, and I stood up to go get some work done.

Just after lunch on Sunday, we were back in Katie's kitchen, finishing the Snowball Express cupcakes.

“Your mom is so nice to let us take over your house for basically the whole weekend,” I said.

Katie shrugged. “It's awfully quiet without you guys here.” She thickly spread white frosting onto a cupcake and set it in the carrier. I was busy opening
packages of napkins and stowing them in a small shopping bag, so they'd be ready to go when we got there. They were cute, with pictures of white fluffy snowmen against a dark-blue night sky. We thought the kids would like them. They were cheerful. Mia had brought some pine branches to lay around the cupcakes, and Alexis had three big white plastic platters we used regularly for parties.

Alexis finished wiping out the final carrier and set it down, and we all loaded the remaining cupcakes into it.

“Guys, I just have to tell you all, I'm still stumped on the holiday gifts for you,” I said.

“Please! Don't get us anything!” said Mia.

“I want to. I just thought I'd luck out yesterday, and then it was an epic fail.”

“It's the last thing you should be worrying about at this time of the year,” agreed Alexis.

“What should we be worrying about? Year-end tax write-offs?” teased Mia.

“Well, one thing we do have to worry about is logistics when we get to the party,” said Alexis. “Here's what we'll do. We can each take a carrier, and we'll find Kathy Dwyer, and she will show us where to set up. Then I think we should decide if we want to use all three platters and put out every
cupcake, or just do one and keep refilling it. I think there will be tons of kids, so maybe the first option is better.”

We were quiet for a moment, thinking about logistics, and then Mrs. Brown called from the other room “Emma! Your mom's here!” and it was time for us to go.

We bustled into our jackets and out to the car, crunching over the now-icy snow in the driveway, and we secured the cupcake carriers with bungee cords in the cargo area, then we set off to pick up Olivia.

As soon as we pulled into the driveway of her pretty white house, Olivia popped out the door, calling something back over her shoulder (probably promising her mom she wouldn't eat any cupcakes, I thought), and came bounding out to the van.

“Hey, everyone!” she said, clambering in. The automated door whirred shut behind her as she found a seat. Everyone greeted her warmly, which was nice. Olivia looked like she'd taken extra care with her appearance today. Her hair was in two cute braids with red bows at the ends, and she had on a white turtleneck that was sprigged with tiny Christmas trees, and a cute fuzzy holiday sweater topped with a white down vest.

“I love your outfit!” said Mia. “So cute!”

“And the braids!” added Katie.

“Thanks,” said Olivia. “I actually brought some supplies in case any of the kids want me to do their hair.” She patted her hobo bag at her side.

“Oh. Wow. That was a good idea,” I said.

Olivia shrugged. “Sometimes it helps to do something fun with the kids. Like an icebreaker.”

“How did you think of that?” I asked.

“Oh, my cousin was really sick when we were little, so I used to go visit her at the children's hospital a lot for a while. The kids there can get really bored, but they don't always feel well enough to be entertained.”

“Oh,” I said. “That's . . . hard.”

Olivia nodded. “Yeah. You'll find out,” she added. “The only thing I can't really deal with is blood, but you don't see much of that in the children's ward.”

I'm not good with blood either. I thought back to when Olivia and I had both fainted at the hospital after seeing blood (I was with Jake, who was getting tested for a tonsillectomy; she was trying out to model for a blood drive poster. It was not pretty). I hadn't really been focused on the
hospital
part of the equation before this instant. I kept thinking “kids”
and “holiday” and “party,” but thinking about being at the hospital and that the kids might be actually really be sick suddenly made me feel nervous. Like, how should I act around them? And should I ask about how they were feeling? And would something make me faint?

The minivan pulled into the main parking area of the hospital just as a kid was being pushed out in a wheelchair. Her eyes were closed and her head was tipped back, and she looked exhausted. In my heart, I said a little prayer that she had a broken leg or something and was just tired from all the X-rays, and then the van stopped and I jumped out to get the cupcakes, all nervous energy now.

We said bye to my mom, and Alexis led the way to the desk where Kathy Dwyer had instructed her to go, and then we were onboard the world's biggest and slowest elevator, heading to the kids' ward on the top floor.

As the doors opened, I took a deep, calming breath and followed Alexis to the left, with the rest of the Cupcakers and Olivia. Katie and Mia had stopped talking on the elevator, and I realized they were nervous too, but Olivia and Alexis kept chatting away.

Down the hall, we followed the directions to
the playroom and could suddenly hear Christmas music and cheerful voices, which relaxed me a little. I tried not to look in any of the patients' rooms as we passed, because I didn't want to seem nosy or like I was gawking or invading their privacy. So when we got to the playroom, I was relieved to look up and all around.

It was a sunny, cheerful room, with a whole wall of windows looking out over a park at the edge of town, and there was a big menorah and a decorated Christmas tree, and cute paper decorations pinned all around the walls. It kind of felt like a preschool classroom.

None of the kids were there yet, but Kathy Dwyer came over to greet us warmly and introduce us to the child-life coordinators, who help with schooling and entertainment, among other things, for kids staying at the hospital. There were also a couple of nurses and two parent volunteers. Everyone was superfriendly and bubbly, and I immediately began to relax. Kathy thought one platter was probably the better way to go, so we loaded it up and stowed the carriers under the tables. There was lots of other food—sandwiches, salads, cookies—but ours was the prettiest, if I did say so myself.

And then it was time for the kids to come! My palms were actually a little sweaty, and Katie and Mia both had big, nervous smiles plastered on their faces, which was how I must've looked too. But as the first few kids came in—two in wheelchairs with IVs and one with a shaved head, on crutches—Olivia stepped forward to greet them warmly, and we all followed her, and it suddenly wasn't as scary as it had been.

Thank goodness we brought her!
I thought.
I never would have believed it.

B
y the middle of the party, everyone was saying “Thank goodness for Olivia,” even Kathy Dwyer. Talk about seeing a new side of a person! Olivia was comfortable from the get-go, chatting with the kids, making them laugh, bringing them things to eat and drink.

Only around eight kids came to the party, but they'd all made an effort to be festive. Some were dressed up in fancy holiday outfits, some had wrapped tinsel around their crutches, and others had snowman stickers on their casts. They all loved the cupcakes, especially the chocolate surprise in the middle.

Kathy came over to check on us at the refreshment table at one point and said, “Don't forget to
smile and wave for the camera!” She pointed at a security-type camera up on the wall.

“Um, is that so the security people can get a good look at us?” I asked. “ 'Cause, we're pretty good kids!”

Kathy laughed. “No! It's for the kids who can't get out of their beds. They watch the events and entertainment on their TVs.”

My head snapped back up to look at the camera. “Wait, what? There are sick kids watching the party on TV right now? How many?”

“Oh, about twenty,” said Kathy, turning to smile and wave at the camera.

I thought I might burst into tears right then and there.

“So . . . what do they do to celebrate?” I asked.

“Usually, we bring the party to them,” said Kathy. “So for example, after Santa comes here, he'll go from room to room and hand out little gifts and chat with the kids. . . .”

“And what about the refreshments and stuff?” I asked.

“We usually just put it in the staff room after, and the nurses love it.”

“Well . . . could we bring some cupcakes around, or are the kids too sick to eat them?” I asked.

“Oh, certainly!” said Kathy. “Most of the time their parents will come pick up a plate for them, but if you'd like to do that, it would be lovely. I'd say most of the kids we have right now”—she squinted up at the ceiling as she thought—“can have cupcakes!”

“Okay, great!” I said, now wondering what I'd gotten myself into. Hospitals, sick kids, potential blood . . . not my strong suit. Time to call in the reinforcements.

“Olivia!” I called. “Hey, Olivia!”

Olivia turned from where she was laughing with a little girl who seemed pretty okay, and I waved her over. I explained what Kathy and I had been talking about and asked if she'd do it with me and she readily agreed.

“Sure! Those are the kids who really need company!” she said.

“And cupcakes!” I added.

I went to tell the others what we were doing, and they all thought it was a great idea, but all three of them were too nervous to join us. Alexis agreed she'd hold down the fort, and I grabbed a cupcake carrier full of Snowball Express cupcakes while Olivia grabbed a stack of napkins. We crossed the room to check in with Kathy, who gave us our
marching orders (including a list of which room numbers to visit), and we set off.