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the homelessshelter in Wilmington on Thursday, and playing Bunco with my grandmother and her friends at Sandpiper Active Senior Living on Friday.
    But Sadie is my best friend. And if she needs help planning a party, I don’t care how many things I have to move around in my schedule to make that happen.
    The pink rhinestones on Becca’s phone case sparkle in the flashlight beams as she punches in Mrs. Campbell’s number. I reach over the flashlights and quietly pull the bag of pita chips back across the floor. That sea-salt stuff isn’t so bad.
    â€œHi? Mrs. Campbell? This is Becca Elldridge. . . . What? Oh. Yes, Mom and Dad are godsends to this town. . . .” Becca’s fighting another eye roll, I can totally see it. “Saturday at two . . . well, that’s exactly what I’m calling about. . . .”
    Vi’s poking Becca in the knee with the end of her water bottle and mouthing speakerphone . Becca shakes her head.
    â€œYou see, I have this amazing friend, Sadie Pleffer . . . you know her? Yeah, she’s pretty great, isn’t she?” Becca smiles at Sadie, whose face is turning red. “So it turns out she’s really awesome at party planning. Yup, just like her mom! I’m sorry, what?”
    Becca’snodding and saying “mmm-hmm” a lot. I’m dying to say “What?” already, but that’s super annoying when you’re trying to talk to someone on the phone. Not that Vi cares about that. She’s poking Becca’s knee again and whispering, “What? What’s she saying?”
    Becca swats at Vi’s hand. “I think we can help you with that. Well, Sadie mostly . . . sure, you can talk to her.” She passes Sadie the phone.
    Sadie’s face changes into an exact copy of her mom’s when she’s in wedding mode. “Hi, Mrs. Campbell?” After a pause, Sadie launches into a description of all the things she used to do for her mother’s business. “And we’ll take care of the cake, the decorations, the entertainment, everything! All you have to do is show up with Molly. I just need to know how much we can, um, spend. Oh, wow, really?” She points at my backpack and mimes writing something.
    I scrounge in my bag and pass her my lucky test-taking pen and a notebook. Sadie scribbles as she listens, and then she hangs up with Mrs. Campbell after telling her thank you about a million times.
    â€œSo? What did she say?” Vi’s put the water bottle down and is twisting the damp ends of her ponytail around her finger.
    â€œShe said . . . yes!” Sadie couldn’t smile any bigger if she tried.
    Becca pounces on Sadie and bear-hugs her. “You’re going to be a real, official party planner!”
    â€œ We are,” Sadie says.
    â€œOf course!” I say. “Um, details, please?”
    â€œOh, right! So the party is at Poinsettia Plantation over on the mainland on Saturday at two. It’s for Mrs. Campbell’s daughter Molly, who will be nine. She told me to ‘have at it.’ Her budget is . . . well . . .”
    Becca waves a hand. “They’re mega-rich, we know.”
    â€œRight. And—get this—she’s going to pay us!” Sadie’s face is flushed red in the glow of the flashlights.
    â€œLike, actual money?” Vi asks.
    â€œNo, Monopoly money. Of course it’s actual money, silly!” Becca teases. “So, what kind of theme, Sades?”
    Sadie taps her hand on her knee. “Have y’all seen the porch at that house? It’s huge, and they have all those little tables and chairs. It would be perfect for a fancy tea party.”
    â€œOoh, with all different kinds of tea and a big cake!” Wait, did that just come out of my mouth? Okay, maybe I’m a little more excited about this party-planning thing than I thought.
    â€œIlove that