Ramona Saves the Day

9

Ramona Saves the Day

The day of the wedding!

The bridesmaids’ dresses were too long. “Pins!” cried Aunt Bea. “Get me some pins!” Algie made kneeling on the floor too difficult for Mrs. Quimby.

While Aunt Bea pinned up the hems, two for each because the dresses came with matching slips, the girls tried to stand very still, but how could they? The florist had delivered flowers that they couldn’t wait to see. The girls fidgeted. “Beezus, just baste up the hems,” said Aunt Bea when she had pushed the last pin in place. “They’ll hold until after the wedding.” She hurried off to press the wedding dress.

With flushed cheeks, Beezus basted as fast as she could. Ramona did not trust her sister’s stitches and reinforced her hem with Scotch tape.

Everyone’s hair had to be washed; everyone had to take a shower. By Ramona’s turn for a shower, all the hot water had been used.

Why, oh why, did the youngest always have to be last?

Mr. Quimby, who was taking the afternoon off from the market, was delayed.

Would he never come? But he did come, and Ramona was sure she heard him say a bad word when he turned on the shower.

Where was Grandpa Day? “Bob, weren’t you supposed to pick up Dad?” Mrs. Quimby called through the bathroom door.

“He said he wasn’t ready and not to worry.

He would get here on his own,” answered Mr. Quimby between splutters. The family busied itself doing nothing—picking up wedding presents, putting them down, fussing with their hair, making sandwiches no one felt like eating.

Time to dress! Aunt Bea disappeared into Ramona’s room while the girls dressed in Beezus’s room. Ramona pulled on white socks while Beezus tugged at panty hose.

Pink slips slid over their heads, then the dresses, the prettiest they had ever owned.

They shoved their feet into their best white slippers. Beezus brushed her shining hair and Ramona’s, too.

Feeling like princesses, the girls went to show off to their mother, who said they looked lovely. Except for Algie, the girls had 148

never seen their mother look so beautiful.

She was wearing a soft, airy dress borrowed from a neighbor who had already had a baby.

That dress had been passed around among the women of Klickitat Street for several years. “A neighborhood needs only one dress-up maternity dress,” explained Mrs. Quimby.

And then Aunt Bea appeared in her sister’s wedding dress and veil. “Oh, Aunt Bea,” sighed Beezus, “you’re beautiful.” Ramona was too stunned to speak.

Mrs. Quimby kissed her sister and said,“I hope that dress will be as lucky for you as it has been for me.”

Ramona began to have an uneasy feeling that she had outgrown her white slippers, which she had not worn for at least a year.

She would have died rather than complain.

“Where on earth is Dad?” the anxious bride wanted to know.“I don’t want to keep Hobart waiting at the church.”

Yes, where was Grandpa Day? Everyone worried, everyone fussed. His motel was called. No, his room did not answer. More worrying until Ramona, posted at the window, screamed, “Look!” There was Grandpa Day, arriving in a long black limousine driven by a real chauffeur wearing a real chauffeur’s cap, just like chauffeurs on television.

“Why, Dad,” cried Aunt Bea. “You didn’t have to rent—”

“Say no more,” said Grandpa Day. “I want to give my youngest daughter away in style.”

“Wow!” exclaimed Ramona, forgetting her shoes. “And we get to ride in it!” Wait till Aunt Bea’s third—now fourth—graders saw this.

Mrs. Quimby lifted wreaths of tiny pink roses from the florist’s box, anchored them firmly to her daughters’ hair with bobby pins before she handed them their nosegays.

Both girls inhaled the fragrance of their flowers. “Ah-h.”

Aunt Bea lifted out her bouquet of white blossoms. “Come along,” ordered Grandpa Day. “The groom might get tired of waiting and leave.” The family climbed into the limousine, Mr. Quimby sitting with the chauffeur and Beezus and Ramona sitting on fold-down seats facing the bride, their mother, and their grandfather. Under her long dress, Ramona slipped her feet out of her pinching slippers so she could enjoy every second of the ride.

“Now remember, girls,” said Mrs. Quimby, “after you take your places at the front of the church, stand still.” As the limousine glided up to the church, Aunt Bea’s class, arriving in car pools, was properly awed. They climbed quietly out of their ordinary cars and walked in pairs into the church. Most of the boys were wearing stiff new jeans and clean shirts.A couple wore suits. The girls were dressed in their best.

Ramona could see that many heads of hair had been washed in Portland that morning and that Aunt Bea had instructed her class in wedding behavior. Then she discovered she had to squeeze hard to get her feet back into her shoes.

The wedding party entered a small room behind the church reception room, where all the Kemps except Uncle Hobart and Howie’s father, who was the best man, were waiting.

Ramona was surprised to see how pretty Willa Jean looked with the wreath of roses resting on her fair curls. Howie leaned against the wall in his short pants and knee socks.

Except for his grumpy expression, Ramona thought he actually looked handsome, until he began to sing, very, very softly:

“Here comes the bride,

Fair, fat, and wide.

Here comes the groom,

Skinny as a broom.

Here comes the usher,

The old toilet-flusher.”

✩ ✩ ✩

“Howie, you shut up!” ordered Ramona with all the ferocity she could summon in a whisper.What if the bride heard? The bride did hear, and laughed. She knew what to expect from boys Howie’s age. Mrs. Kemp handed her grandson a small lace pillow with the wedding ring fastened in place with basting stitches.

“It will probably fall off,” he predicted.

“No, it won’t,” said his grandmother.“I’ve made sure of that.”

“Beezus, my feet are killing me,” whispered Ramona with tears in her eyes. “My shoes are way too short.”

“So are mine,” agreed Beezus. “I’ll never make it down the aisle.”

Grandmother Kemp was lining up the wedding party in the order in which they were to enter the church. “Once you reach your place at the front of the church, don’t move,” she ordered.

“Quick,” whispered Beezus to Ramona.

“Give me your shoes.” Astonished, Ramona obeyed. As the wedding party proceeded through the reception room to the vestibule of the church, Beezus dropped the two pairs of slippers into a large bouquet of rhododendron blossoms. When the organ burst forth with the processional, the girls stifled their giggles. Uncle Hobart’s friends, the bearded ushers splendid in their rented clothes, grinned at the girls and, after escort-ing Howie’s mother and grandmother and Mrs. Quimby to the front pew, returned to walk slowly down the aisle together.

Ramona and Beezus counted to four.

With the carpet tickling the bottoms of their feet and their nosegays quivering from nervousness, they followed, slowly and with dignity. Ramona could hear Willa Jean count-ing to four, and knew that she was follow-ing, and behind her, four counts later, Howie. Uncle Hobart and Howie’s father, surprisingly handsome, were waiting with the minister at the end of what seemed like a long, long aisle.

Suddenly all the guests rose to their feet.

Aunt Bea, on the arm of her father, had entered the church. Her class strained for a glimpse of their teacher.

From her place at the front of the church, Ramona could see her aunt, almost floating on the arm of Grandpa Day. Then they, too, took their places.The ceremony began.

Grandpa Day gaveth this woman, as the minister called Aunt Bea, to be married and stepped back to the front pew. So much for the father of the bride.

All went well, with Ramona happily wig-gling her toes inside her socks, until Howie’s father tried to lift the wedding ring from the pillow. Unfortunately, Howie’s grandmother, not trusting her grandson, had fastened the ring with such tight stitches it would not lift.

Mr. Kemp tugged. The ring remained in place. Howie clutched the pillow in a good tight grip while his father yanked. The ring came off the pillow, slipped through his fingers, flew through the air, and disappeared.

The guests gasped. The children in the wedding party, instructed not to move, stood like statues.The wedding had come to a standstill. The men in the party began to look around for the ring. Even Aunt Bea took a step back to see if it had rolled under her skirt.The men leaned forward, searching.

In a minute, they might even be on their knees, feeling around on the carpet with their hands. Ramona prayed that Aunt Bea’s class would not giggle.

Then, as Aunt Bea bent over, Ramona caught a glimpse of something shiny.

The wedding ring was around the heel of the bride’s sandal. How did it get there? It must have rolled under Aunt Bea’s dress, and when she stepped back, she stepped into it.A rustle went through the church, the sound of restless, uneasy guests. Something must be done, and now.

What should Ramona do? She was under strict orders not to move, but she was the only one who knew where the ring had landed.

She thought fast. Why should she obey Mrs. Kemp, who had sewed the ring too tight and been the cause of its disappearance? In a minute someone would snicker and set off the whole congregation. Ramona could not bear to have her aunt’s wedding laughed at.

She decided to act, even if it meant showing her white socks. Laying her nosegay on the carpet, Ramona got down on her hands and knees, prayed her wreath wouldn’t slip, crawled over to her aunt, reached under her skirt, took hold of her ankle, and when the surprised bride looked down, raised her foot and pulled the ring off her heel. Ramona then crawled backward, picked up her nosegay, handed the ring to the best man, and took her place once more, standing like a statue with her wreath still in place. Aunt Bea flashed Ramona a smile while her lips silently formed the words “thank you.” Everyone in the church relaxed, the wedding proceeded as if nothing had happened.

Oh, that romantic moment when the minister pronounced the couple husband and wife, Uncle Hobart kissed Aunt Bea, and the organ sounded notes of joy! The wedding party sped up the aisle and into the reception hall where, under Howie’s grandmother’s direction, they formed a receiving line.

Guests trickled in, kissed the bride, con-gratulated the groom, and told Beezus and Ramona they looked sweet, pretty, charm-ing, and like flowers—a new experience for Ramona. Some said,“So this is the girl who saved the day,” or “It’s a good thing you found the ring.” One said, “You were a real little heroine.” Ramona smiled modestly. One old gentleman told her she looked “as pretty as a speckled pup.” Ramona had never been so filled with joy.

Aunt Bea’s class was shy about kissing the bride, so the bride kissed every one of them.

Some said hi to Ramona; others told her they had heard about her from Miss Day, or said it was a good thing she found the ring.

Some girls wistfully told her they thought her dress was pretty. Several boys said,“How come you’re not wearing shoes?” Ramona did not mind. She was so happy she felt as if she could stand in the receiving line forever, but of course it came to an end, and when it did, Howie’s grandmother actually thanked Ramona for finding the ring, smiled a real smile, and told her she looked pretty.

Waiters passed trays of tiny sandwiches, punch, and champagne. Ramona noticed each member of her aunt’s class was careful to take only two sandwiches, which showed Aunt Bea had told them how to behave. No one spilled punch; nobody threw up.

Ramona helped herself to three sandwiches. As a member of the wedding party, she felt she deserved them. Besides, she was hungry. As she nibbled to make the sandwiches last, she had an idea that she whispered to Beezus. “If we had some string, we could tie our slippers to the bumper of Uncle Hobart’s truck.We can’t wear them anymore.” Beezus, usually so proper, was delighted with the idea. “There must be some string someplace,” she said.

“I’ll ask Howie,” said Ramona.

Howie, who was leaning against the wall stuffing himself with what Ramona considered more than his share of sandwiches, and looking embarrassed because the girls from Aunt Bea’s class stared at him with admiration, liked the idea. “I don’t carry string in these pants,” he said, “but I bet I can find some.” He began to ask around among the boys from Aunt Bea’s class, and sure enough, string was found in several pockets. When Ramona pulled the slippers from the flowers, she discovered she did not want to leave the reception.

Neither did Beezus. They liked being paid compliments one after another, and Beezus had noticed a boy her age looking at her as if he wanted to talk to her. Besides, the bride was about to cut the wedding cake.

“You do it.” Ramona shoved the shoes at Howie.

“Sure,” agreed Howie, glad to escape.The donors of the string went with him and, by the time the cake was cut, returned looking pleased with themselves and ready for their share of cake.

Uncle Hobart, whom Ramona had been avoiding because she felt ashamed that she had not been nicer to him, cornered her. “I want to thank my new niece for saving the day by finding the ring,” he said and kissed her. His beard was not as scratchy as she had expected.

“Thank you, Uncle Hobart,” she said, shy about calling him uncle for the first time.

“It’s nice, sort of, having an uncle. And thank you for our dresses.”

“You’re welcome. And I like having another spunky niece.” Uncle Hobart and Ramona were friends. Peace at last!

The bride threw her bouquet, aiming it, Ramona suspected, at Beezus, who caught it, which meant she would be the next bride.

The newlyweds, both laughing, ran out to Uncle Hobart’s truck in a shower of rice and birdseed and drove off. Two pairs of white slippers danced from the rear bumper. The wedding was over.

The Quimbys climbed into Grandpa Day’s rented limousine and sank back into the rich upholstery with happy sighs.You could make teddy bears out of these seats, they are so soft and furry, thought Ramona.

“Funny about those white shoes on the back of the truck,” remarked Mr. Quimby.

“They look familiar.”

The girls burst into giggles. “They hurt,” confessed Ramona. “They were too tight.” Mrs. Quimby, resting her arms on Algie, smiled. “I had forgotten how long you girls had had those shoes,” she said.“I should have thought.” Ramona marveled that neither of her parents said the girls should have saved Beezus’s slippers for Ramona to grow into.

“I’m starved,” announced Grandpa Day.

“Giving away a bride is hard work, and that dainty little wedding food doesn’t fill me up.

When we get home, I’ll send out for pizza.” Pizza! thought Ramona. A limousine and a pizza! The end of a perfect day.