Free Flower Feud by Catherine R. Daly Page A

didn’t need one, her lower lip began to tremble. I looked around wildly. A sporting goods store was nearby. Five minutes later I was ten bucks poorer and Poppy was wearing a fishing cap.
    Poppy gave me a big grin. “I like spying with you, Del,” she said.
    “Good. Now remember, you can’t call me by name.”
    She nodded and scribbled in her notebook again. “Don’t call Del Del,” she said. “Check!”
    “Here goes nothing,” I said. I grabbed Poppy by the hand, plastered a smile on my face, and walked briskly toward the store entrance.
    “Welcome to Fleur,” said Hamilton’s mom as she stepped out from behind the counter. I took a close look at her. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a neat bun. She was pretty, with perfectly applied makeup. She had fine lines around her eyes, which were a brilliant shade of blue. Just like Hamilton’s.
    Poppy looked around at the vast space, her eyes wide. “Wow, what a beautiful store,” she said.
    I gave her a dirty look behind my sunglasses.
    “Why, thank you. And what’s your name, little girl?” Hamilton’s mom asked, bending her knees so she could look at Poppy’s face. “What a cute hat.”
    I stiffened. What would she say?
    “Um … Mercedes,” replied Poppy. “My name is Mercedes.”
    I stared at my little sister. Where did
that
come from?
    “Hello, Mercedes,” Hamilton’s mom said. She turned to me. “And you’re …”
    “Gertrude!” Poppy answered.
    Gertrude? I didn’t want to be Gertrude!
    “Gertrude, do you go to Sarah Hale Middle School?” she asked. “Maybe you know my son, Hamilton.”
    I totally panicked. “We’d better start shopping!” I said, grabbing Poppy’s hand and dragging her down the orchid aisle. I mentally urged Hamilton’s mom to go about her business so I could hopefully overhear some info and get out of there ASAP. I glanced around nervously. If Hamilton showed up, the jig would certainly be up.
    Hamilton’s mom shrugged and returned to her place behind the counter.
    “Mercedes,” I said in a louder than usual voice, “do you like this orchid for Mom’s birthday?”
    “Mom’s birthday isn’t until December, silly,” said Poppy, matching my volume. I gave her the hairy eyeball. “Oh. I mean, I love it for Mom’s birthday. Yes, I do.”
    Just then the door whooshed open. I froze, but thensaw it was a tall, middle-aged woman — not Hamilton. Whew. I put my finger to my lips and Poppy and I eavesdropped.
    “Hi, Nancy,” said Hamilton’s mom. “How are things at Children’s Closet?”
    “Pretty good,” said Nancy. “We just had a big sale and we turned over a lot of merchandise. How are things here?”
    Score!
    “Not getting that prom business I had been anticipating,” Hamilton’s mom said.
    Poppy and I exchanged a meaningful glance.
    “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” said Nancy. “What do you think you’ll do about it?”
    “I just came up with a great idea,” said Hamilton’s mom. “Totally creative. It’s going to get those tweens and teens lining up outside the door.”
    My mouth fell open. What nerve! The only reason she had a great idea was thanks to me and my family. I had heard enough. My worst fears had been confirmed. I grabbed Poppy by the arm and dragged her out of the store.
    “Good-bye, Mercedes! Good-bye, Gertrude!” called Hamilton’s mom.
    “Good-bye,” I said icily over my shoulder as we headed out the door.
    Once we were outside, Poppy straightened her cap. “Well, she seemed like a really nice lady,” she said.
    We had another hour before Mom picked us up, so Poppy and I wandered the mall, window-shopping. My heart wasn’t in it. I could only think about Hamilton’s mom stealing our ideas. And since kids hung out in the mall all the time, she was definitely going to win the prom battle. All she had to do was fill her front window with all of our cool creations.
    When Poppy complained that she was hungry, I got her a box of popcorn from the Snack Shack and we