Free Here Come The Bridesmaids by Ann M. Martin

sensational."
    "Just you wait." Claudia stood up. "Guys, let’s get started."
    She rushed us into the bathroom and began her . . . art.
    Luckily Kristy was first. When Claudia tried to give her the finger-in-the-electric-socket punk look, Kristy blew up.
    Afterward, Claud became a lot more conservative. She worked the kinks out of my hair and moussed it just enough to give it some shine and body. She hot-curled a wave into Dawn's hair, then gathered some from the sides with these gorgeous silk-flower combs she'd bought.
    As we were watching her work on Dawn, the doorbell rang. Jeff yelled out, "If s the ups truck!"
    "U.P.S.," Mr. Schafer corrected him from upstairs. "Have Mrs. Bruen sign for it."
    A few minutes later we heard rumbling and grunting and thudding from the back door area. Kristy and I ran into the kitchen to see two men dumping box after box onto the floor of the outer hallway.
    Mrs. Bruen looked horrified. Mr. Schafer was grinning.
    "A wedding and Christmas at the same time," Mr. Schafer said. "What a life!"
    "Where are we going to put all this stuff?" Mrs. Bruen asked, shaking her head.
    "No! No! Farther from the garage!" Mr. Schafer barged out the back door, yelling at the tent people.
    The minute Dawn stepped out the door, Claudia cried, "Uh, uh! Not till you get sprayed. I don't want my work ruined."
    We scampered back to the bathroom. Mrs. Bruen was now chasing Jeff around, holding out a suit in a dry cleaning bag. "Jeffrey, your father wants you to put this on."
    "No one wears a suit to the beach!" Jeff protested.
    "Your father is wearing one," Mrs. Bruen said.
    "He's getting married."
    "And you're the best man."
    "So? That doesn't mean I have to look stupid."
    Tsssssssssssss . . . The sound of the hairspray drowned out our giggling.
    Next Dawn and I ran back upstairs. We grabbed our dresses out of the closet and put them on.
    Funny. Mine felt way too big. Had I lost weight since the day before?
    I considered wearing my own dress until I looked at Dawn. Her dress came up to her knees.
    "Gaaack," she muttered.
    We exploded with laughter. Then we switched dresses.
    Claudia barged into the room with a gorgeous corsage for Dawn.
    "Which side am I supposed to wear it on?" Dawn asked.
    They talked and fussed. Quickly I grabbed my journal and wrote in it.
    Finally Mrs. Bruen called up, "We're leaving in five minutes!"
    We rushed downstairs. Claudia ran around fixing everybody's hair. Mrs. Bruen ran around with a necktie, chasing Jeff. Mr. Schafer ran around giving last minute instructions to all the workers. Now caterers were in the kitchen, running around with huge trays of food. Dawn and I had nothing to do. So we ran
    around, too — to keep from going crazy.
    Phweeeeeeet!
    A familiar whistle sounded in the living room. "Everyone into the car!" Kristy shouted.
    Yes, President Kristy had brought her coach's whistle all the way from Connecticut.
    Dawn and I hugged each other good-bye. Claudia, Kristy, Mrs. Bruen, and I ran out to the car.
    Mrs. Bruen started it up. I held my breath and squeezed Kristy's hand.
    We were on our way.
    Chapter 13.
    Dawn.
    "Easy on the gas, sweetheart."
    Carol was being very patient with my dad. He was driving like a maniac.
    He's bad enough, normally. But on his wedding day, I guess the road was not the first thing on his mind.
    I was sitting in the backseat. Next to me, Jeff was squirming, knotting and unknotting his tie.
    "Turn left here, dear," Carol said to Dad.
    Screeeeek!
    Dad turned all right. Too bad he hadn't done it more slowly.
    "Who-o-o-oa!" Jeff cried out, falling backward over my lap.
    Dad stabilized the car. A horn blared outside. I gently pushed Jeff back up. He went back to work on his tie. Carol was biting her nails.
    Strange. Looking at the front seat of the car,
    seeing the backs of two heads, I kept thinking of Mom.
    I have a picture in my mind, from years and years of riding in the back of this same car — and in that picture, Mom is always the person next to