“Can you imagine Nonny doing it?” I say, and we both crack up.

“Besides,” she says, “money is money, right?”

“Money is money,” I agree. “But I’ll have to think about this one.”

“Enough business for now. Here.” Ale thrusts the bag she’s still holding at me. I dump it on the bed, and a silky, gorgeous shimmer of cloth and ribbon slithers out.

“I love you forever.” I pick out some shiny black and red pieces that will be perfect for my pirate fairy costume. There’s a big outdoor fairy festival every year two towns over, and we’ve been going together since our moms used to take us in our strollers. We design our costumes way in advance.

Ale pulls some ribbons from the pile and weaves them into her long braid, then lays a few combinations on the bedspread. “You better! I had to fend off my sisters for these.” Ale’s aunt Rosaria makes custom dresses for weddings and First Communions and quinceañeras. Ale and her sisters and cousins all take turns getting the leftover scraps of expensive fabric and fancy ribbon. Whenever it’s Ale’s turn, she brings the haul over, and we work on costumes for ourselves.

“You still going with the bee fairy?” I ask, looking at her black, gold, and white choices.

“What else?” Ale holds two bits of gold ribbon over her head like antennae. “If business keeps up, I might get my new hive by spring instead of next summer.”

Ale’s all about bees. She’s determined to become a Master Beekeeper (only she calls it Mistress High Beekeeper) before she turns sixteen. It sounds like a lifetime to me, but Ale insists it’s basically impossible to do that quickly. Which means, of course, that she will.

“That’s amazing!” Ale’s been saving her profits for a huge, super-fancy hive that looks like a tiny house—shingled roof, wooden windows, copper accents, the works. It’s like a designer dollhouse built for bees—and crazy expensive. For a bee house, anyway. I can’t judge, though, since my goal will cost even more than the honeybee mansion.

That gets me thinking about what I’m saving for, so I roll to my wall chart and admire the numbers on the little printed thermometer stretching up the wall to my ultimate goal—and the picture taped beside it. As soon as these latest orders go out, I’ll add some more red to the thermometer and be that much closer to my dream.

A high-end, multi-link-suspension stunt chair.

Coil-over shocks. Floating rear axle. Skate wheels.

Built for WCMX. The ultimate ride. Then I’ll finally be able to get serious about skating without worrying about tearing up my regular wheels all the time.

Because when I’m skating, flying free … that’s when I can truly be me.

3

Emmie Surprise

My growling stomach reminds me to start dinner after a while, so Ale brings the laptop to the kitchen and plays videos while I make Emmie Surprise, my second-best recipe. I last until I’ve cooked the pasta and peas. Once the ground turkey’s browning in the pan, I crack.