Authors: Jill Santopolo
True Colors was opening an hour earlier than usual. One of the Saturday regulars, Miss Lulu, was getting married in the afternoon. Twelve bridesmaids were coming with her to the salon for matching Just Peachy manicures and pedicures.
After Miss Lulu and her wedding party left, a birthday girl was scheduled to come in with her two sisters and three friends before her Sweet Sixteen party. This was all in addition to the Saturday regulars and whoever else called for an appointment.
“Stop wriggling, Brooke. This side is totally crooked. It looks like it's coming out of your ear,” Aly said with a giggle, trying to braid Brooke's hair while holding her Pop-Tart between her knees.
“Please, girls, keep it down back there,” Mom said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “I can barely keep my thoughts straight. There's so much to get done today. And Dad won't be home until tomorrow.”
Aly looked at her watch: 7:50. Mom seemed exhausted already. Dad was supposed to have been home from his business trip by now, but his flight last night was canceled at the last minute.
At the next red light Mom twisted around to look
at the girls. “Brooke,” she said, “you have an important job today.”
Through a mouthful of Pop-Tart, Brooke mumbled, “I do?”
“It's going to be a busy Saturday. You know what that means: bottles of polish all over the salon. Can you keep an eye on the colors and make sure there aren't any purples in the red section or blues in the orange sectionâthat kind of thing?”
“Sure, Mom,” she answered. “That's easy.”
Organizing polish colors was one of Brooke's favorite jobsâand the one she was best at. The colors would go slowly from red to orange to gold to yellow to green to blue to purple to silver to black to brown. When she was done, the arrangement would look like it belonged in an art museum. Brooke did the same thing to her crayons and to the clothes hanging in her closet. She even did it to the books on her bookshelves.
When the red light turned green, Aly asked, “What can I do to help?”
Usually, she had a bunch of small jobs:
â¢Â Making sure the manicurists had enough hot towels
â¢Â Signing for packages
â¢Â Playing with toddlers
â¢Â Emptying trash cans
â¢Â Sweeping the floor
â¢Â Helping customers with their car keys and purses
â¢Â Running over to the bank to trade a few twenty-dollar bills for a ton of one-dollar bills
“I need you to answer the phone and make appointments in the schedule book,” Mom said, pulling the car into the parking lot behind the salon.
Aly couldn't believe it. She'd never done that before.
She'd figured that was a high school job for sure. Or eighth grade at least.
“Do you mean it, Mom?” she asked.
The three got out of the car and walked to the rear entrance together. “Let's see how it goes until we're done with Lulu's wedding. Then I'll take over. But I'm sure you'll do fine,” Mom said, opening the door.
“No problem. I'll do my best,” Aly told her mom. Aly thought Brooke would be a
much
better phone answerer because she never, ever stopped talking. Well, except when she was eating a Pop-Tart.
At 8:00 a.m. on the dot, Joan unlocked the front door to True Colors. In rushed Miss Lulu and her Just Peachy bridesmaids. They filled up all five pedicure chairs plus manicure stations one through eight.
First Brooke did her usual job of offering people
cups of water. Then she positioned herself right next to the polish display.
Aly was already seated at the front desk with the telephone and the appointment book. She felt kind of silly just sitting there, looking around at the yellow walls and stacks of magazines, doing nothing except listening to Brooke ask Miss Lulu a gazillion questions about her wedding.
“What color are your shoes?”
“Is your veil long?”
“Do you like roses?”
“Is your wedding cake chocolate? That's my favorite flavor.”
Aly opened the appointment book. It was pretty full already, but there were a few slots open for pedicures in the afternoon and even more for manicures.
The first time the phone rang, Aly froze. Brooke
raced over and poked her arm. “Aly! Pick up the phone!”
Aly swallowed hard. On the third ring she answered. “True Colors. May I help you?”
On the other end, a girl asked for a rainbow sparkle pedicure at two o'clock. “My friend Jenica got one yesterday. And, oh, and, um, can Aly do it?” she asked.
Aly wanted to say yes, but she knew the rules. She had to be eighteen. And there were still open spots for the regular manicurists, which had to get filled.
“Aly can't do it,” Aly said, pretending she was someone else. “But we can fit you in at two twenty. Will that work?”
“I can come then. Are you sure Aly can't do it?”
Aly swallowed again. “I'm sure,” she said. “What's your name?”
“Bethany,” the girl answered.
“Okay, thanks, Bethany. We'll see you later,” Aly said, and hung up.
She wanted to tell Mom about Bethany asking for her. But Mom was in the middle of painting Miss Lulu's nailsâa French manicure, pink on the bottom with white tips, and a rhinestone on her wedding ring fingerâand needed to concentrate.
The phone rang again: two mani appointments for a woman and her husband. Then it rang a third time: another one of Jenica's friends, Mia, also asking for a rainbow sparkle pedicure. From Aly. The phone kept ringing and ringing until almost all the empty spots were booked.
Just as it started to calm down, a few walk-ins arrived. As Aly was taking down their names on the waiting list, her mom came over.
“Thanks, sweetie,” she said. “I'll take it from here. Your sister's in the back room with some lemonade.”
Aly stood up. “We're all booked up for pedicures,” she told her mom. “Oh, and two people called about getting the same rainbow sparkle pedicure I gave Brooke and Jenica yesterday.”
“We're
all
booked up for pedicures?” her mother asked. “Already?”
Mom ran her fingers through her hair. Aly spotted Just Peachy polish splotched on her elbow.
“I hate turning customers away,” Mom said. “This is great, but . . .”
Aly didn't like it when her mom frowned. “Maybe no one else will want a pedicure today,” she offered.
“Maybe,” Mom said, but she didn't seem like she really believed it.
On her way to the back room Aly straightened the frames of the flower pictures on the walls and stopped to say hi to Mrs. Franklin, one of her favorite regulars. She had a tiny dog named Sadie. Sadie was a
professional dog model. Mrs. Franklin carried around pictures of her dressed in different costumes from her photo shoots. Aly especially liked the one of Sadie dressed in a tutu with a bright pink flower in her collar. It was for some sort of dog food commercial.
Once Aly was inside, Brooke handed her a cup of lemonade.
“It's crazy out there!” Brooke said. “We need more paper cups. We ran out of Raspberry Good. And Miss Lulu hates roses!” Both girls flopped into the pedicure chairs.
“Crazy is right,” Aly said, enjoying the sweet-and-sour taste the lemonade left on her tongue. “The appointment book is almost filled too.”
Brooke waited for Aly to finish her drink. “So,” she said, “since it's Saturday . . .” She pulled a bottle of gold glitter polish out of her shorts pocket. Go for the Gold. It was from a shipment two weeks ago.
Aly took the bottle. She'd almost forgotten! It was like they were in a backward world, where Brooke remembered things and Aly didn't!
The girls were always allowed to wear
toe
polish, but they had permission to wear
nail
polish only on weekends. So every Saturday they painted each other's nails. Well, Aly painted both of Brooke's hands and one of her own. Then Brooke did Aly's other hand, even though her polishing was a little wobbly. There was no other choice, because Aly's left hand wasn't as good at polishing as her right hand was.
“Let's get started,” Aly said.
She painted Brooke's fingers, then the fingers on her own left hand. While she polished, Brooke peeked into the main salon.
“No way are there open dryers out there,” Brooke said. “We'll have to fan.” She started waving her hands around so the air would speed up the drying.
Just as Aly was finishing up her left pinkie and about to give the polish brush to Brooke, their mother came in. Now she had a splotch of Plum Delicious on her chin!
“This has to be the busiest Saturday we've ever had. I'll need you both out front when you're done with your break,” she said.
“Look!” Brooke said, wiggling her glimmering gold-tipped fingers.
“Beautiful!” Mom answered, and then she caught one of Brooke's hands in her own. “And great manicure, Aly. Oh, by the way, three more of your friends called for a rainbow sparkle pedicure. I had to tell them we were booked for today. They asked for you too. I guess you made a real impression.”
The idea of people calling and asking for her made Aly a little breathless. “Too bad I'm not eighteen yet,” she said. “Then I could've done their pedicures.”
“Mom, why does Aly have to wait?” Brooke asked. “I
hate
that rule! She's so good.”
Mom inspected Brooke's fingers a little more closely and gave Aly a funny look. But then Carla appeared at the door. “Your eleven o'clock is here, Karen.”
Mom let go of Brooke's hand. “Thanks,” she said. “I've got to get back to it, girls.”
When Mom left, Brooke finished painting Aly's nails. Aly was surprised by how nice it looked.
“You're going to be just as good as me soon,” Aly told her sister.
And somehow, saying that made an idea explode in Aly's brain.
“Brooke . . . what if we ask Mom about opening our own salon, here in the back room, just for kids? I know we're not eighteen, but she
did
let me polish Jenica's toes. So maybe if there's one exception, there could be more!”
As the words came out of her mouth, Aly couldn't tell if they were really smart or really silly. “We're both pretty good manicurists, and Mom wouldn't have to turn down customers who want rainbow sparkle pedicures!”
Brooke started tugging on her left braid like she might pull it out of her head. “Really?” she asked. “Do you really,
really
think we could?”
“I think so,” Aly said. “But it'll probably take some convincing.”
Brooke looked thoughtful. “What kind of convincing?” she asked.
“Well,” Aly said, “first we'd probably need to write up a plan and give it to Mom. That way, she'll take us seriously, like she does when people come by selling nail dryers and clippers and stuff. They give her lots of papers with information on them.”
Brooke pushed her glasses up, tight against her
face. “Okay. We can come up with a plan. But right now I need to neaten up the polish shelves. And I promised Mrs. Franklin I'd look at Sadie's new pictures. Also, Joan asked me to refill her box of rhinestones because she's running low.”
Aly nodded. “Let's meet back here when Mom gives us another break,” she said. But she had already started making a list in her head.
And as she did, she had the feeling that this was not just a good idea, but an awesome one. At least she hoped it was.
Aly just had to figure out how to make Mom break her own rules so it could happen.
True Colors Problems
1. Too crowded
2. Customers don't like waiting
3. Lots of kids want pedicures (not a problem, just a fact)
How OUR Salon Could Fix the Problems
1. Two more polishers, so more nails can get done
2. More spots for grown-ups in the main salon
Brooke read the list over Aly's shoulder, moving her mouth with the words. When she was finished, she clapped her hands. “That's perfect,” she said. “But I have more to add.”