Read Online Just Plain Al: The Al Series, Book Five by Constance C. Greene - Free Book Online

they made your behind wiggle,” Teddy said. He and Hubie broke into gales of laughter. Al blushed furiously. Teddy must’ve overheard Al and me talking about her red shoes, which did sometimes make her behind wiggle, but it was certainly none of Teddy’s business.
    â€œGet lost, troglodyte,” I said, and he and Hubie disappeared, probably to lay plans to blow up the Statue of Liberty.
    The bell rang again. When I answered, the same old delivery boy said, “Hey, fate throws us together once more,” and thrust yet another bouquet of posies from Vivian into my hands.
    â€œThey’re for you, Al,” I said. The delivery boy, feeling, by now, like an old friend of the family, stepped inside, leaned over my shoulder to read the card, and said, “Yeah, from somebody named Stan.”
    â€œHoly Toledo,” Al said softly, looking slightly fuzzy around the edges, “and the party hasn’t even begun.”
    â€œThis guy Stan really knows how to overdo it, doesn’t he?” I said.
    â€œYeah, he sure does,” Al said, smiling. “But he overdoes in such a tasteful way, n’est-ce-pas?”

chapter 13
    Polly arrived at six-thirty, carrying the cake, which was done up to resemble an Egyptian mummy. “I took a cab,” Polly told us, “’cause I was afraid it might get crushed on the bus.”
    Slowly, slowly, she peeled off the layers of tin foil and plastic wrap. We all stood silent, tongue-tied in admiration.
    The cake must’ve had three layers, maybe more. Every inch was covered with a magnificent dark-chocolate frosting. Polly had decorated it with hearts and flowers and squiggles. AL IS FOURTEEN was written in pale pink icing.
    It was a work of art.
    â€œWe won’t eat it,” my father said. “We’ll put it under glass.” We broke up, as if he’d said something hysterically funny. Excitement was high. It wasn’t every day we gave a birthday party for Al, every day we had a rib roast in the oven, every day we had Al’s mother coming to our house for dinner. My grandfather arrived shortly before seven. He had a present for Al, but he wouldn’t tell me what it was. We were giving her a little black suede shoulder bag with a tiny rhinestone clasp. I would’ve loved such a bag. I never go anywhere, but still.
    At five past seven, the doorbell rang. It wasn’t Al’s special ring, so I thought, Oh, no, more flowers. But there they were: Al and her mother. Al looked beautiful. Her hair was off her forehead and swept to one side. She looked about sixteen. Her cheeks flamed, her eyes shone, her feet wouldn’t stay still. She had on black suede shoes with little heels. They would be perfect with the bag. She had on panty hose, and they didn’t even wrinkle at the ankles. She looked soignée . When we got a minute alone, I’d tell her so.
    Al’s mother, dressed in a floaty red dress, also looked soignée , but then she always does. Al stood aside to let her mother enter first. Al’s mother smelled delicious. She must’ve taken a bath.
    Why? Is one missing?
    That was one of my father’s golden oldie jokes.
    Did you take a bath? No, is one missing? The things they laughed at, back in the dark ages!
    As Al, guest of honor, followed her mother into our living room, I heard her say, so softly only I could hear, “Ta dah!” That almost broke me up.
    Polly was a tremendous guest, small-talking with the oldsters like a real pro. And I was proud of my grandfather. He looked positively ambassadorial in his striped suit that, he told me once, he wore only to weddings and funerals. Well, this was neither. As Al pointed out, he probably didn’t get invited to too many birthday parties. At his age.
    Everybody, including me, I thought smugly, looked elegant. Except Teddy, who was chained to the TV set with his buddy, Hubie. At first everybody also seemed to be moving in slow motion,