Karen's Pizza Party Read online

  This book is for

  Morgan and Katie,

  Heather, Liz, Melissa, Kelly,

  Angie, Claudia, Andrea L., Andrea R.,

  Alison, Lindsay, and Jennifer!

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1 Hootie

  2 A Home for Hootie

  3 Pizza Express

  4 Karen’s Lucky Day

  5 The Pizza Queen

  6 The TV Star

  7 Smile!

  8 Free Pizza

  9 Big Karen

  10 Hootie’s New Home

  11 Happy Birthday, Dear Joey

  12 Karen the Pest

  13 Lonely

  14 Oops

  15 Worries

  16 Hide-and-Seek

  17 Good News

  18 Karen’s Pizza Party

  19 Behind the Refrigerator

  20 The New Pizza Queen

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  Hootie

  “Do you know what Sari did yesterday?” asked my best friend Hannie Papadakis. “She used my mom’s lipsticks to fill in four pages in her coloring book. The lipsticks are ruined.”

  “Little sisters and brothers are pests,” I said.

  “Not Danny,” said Nancy Dawes. (She is my other best friend.)

  “That’s because Danny is just a baby,” I replied. “Wait until he gets older. You’ll see.”

  “Well, little brothers and sisters are not always pests,” said Hannie.

  “No, but Bobby Gianelli is,” I said, and we giggled.

  Hannie and Nancy and I were sitting on some desks in the back of our classroom one morning. We are in second grade at Stoneybrook Academy. Ms. Colman is our teacher. I am very lucky. I am lucky because my best friends and I are in the same class. And I am lucky because Ms. Colman is a gigundoly wonderful teacher. I just love her. The only unlucky thing is Bobby Gianelli. He is in our class, too. And he is not just a pest. He is a bully.

  I am Karen Brewer. I am seven years old. I wear glasses. I have blonde hair and blue eyes and some freckles. And I love school as much as I love Ms. Colman — even if I do not love Bobby. Here are some good things about my class: We have a pet guinea pig. His name is Hootie. My husband is in the class. His name is Ricky Torres. (Of course, he is just my pretend husband. We got married on the playground one day.)

  “Good morning, boys and girls,” said Ms. Colman when she came into the classroom that day. “Please take your seats.”

  I hopped off the desk. “ ’Bye,” I said sadly to Hannie and Nancy. They get to sit together in the back of the room, but I have to sit in the front row. That is because I wear glasses. Ms. Colman made up the rule. She wears glasses herself. Oh well. At least I get to sit next to Ricky, since he is another glasses-wearer.

  “Class,” began Ms. Colman, “I have an announcement to make.” (Goody! I thought. My teacher is always making Surprising Announcements.) “As you know, quite a bit of work was done on our school over the summer, especially in the cafeteria and the auditorium. Unfortunately, the work was not finished. The classrooms were supposed to have been painted. And they needed a few repairs. Yesterday the teachers had a meeting. We decided not to wait until next summer to finish the work. We would rather see it finished now. So one by one, each of the classrooms will close for about a week to be painted and fixed up. While our room is closed, we will work in the cafeteria, the auditorium, or any empty space. We will move around a lot. That will be fine for us, but it will not be fine for Hootie. We cannot move him around all day. So we need to find a home for our guinea pig that week.”

  “I will take him!” I called out. (I forgot to raise my hand.)

  “Thank you, Karen,” said Ms. Colman. “That is a nice offer. But you need permission. So tonight, girls and boys, please tell your parents about Hootie. If any of you is interested in taking care of him for a week, bring in a note from your parents.”

  Well, I would certainly remember to do that. I love animals. I have two cats, two dogs, two goldfish, and my very own rat. They do not all live in one house, though. That is because I do not live in one house. I live in two houses. I am a two-two.

  A Home for Hootie

  What is a two-two? A two-two is someone like me, who has two families. I did not always have two families, though. A long time ago, when I was very little, I had just one — Mommy, Daddy, Andrew, and me. (Andrew is my brother. He is four now, going on five.) We lived in a big house here in Stoneybrook, Connecticut. I thought we were happy, but I guess we were not. Mommy and Daddy began to fight. Not just a little. They fought a lot. Finally, they said they were going to get a divorce, because they did not love each other anymore. (They still loved Andrew and me very much, though.) After the divorce, Mommy moved to a little house, and Daddy stayed in the big house. (He grew up in that house.)

  Guess what happened then. Mommy and Daddy each got married again. Mommy married a man named Seth Engle. He is my stepfather. Daddy married a woman named Elizabeth Thomas. She is my stepmother. And that is how Andrew and I got two families, one at Mommy’s little house, one at Daddy’s big house. Mostly we live at the little house. But every other weekend, and on some holidays and vacations, we live at the big house.

  This is my little-house family: Mommy, Seth, Andrew, me, Midgie, Rocky, and Emily Junior. Midgie and Rocky are Seth’s dog and cat. Emily Junior is my rat.

  This is my big-house family: Daddy, Elizabeth, Kristy, Sam, Charlie, David Michael, Emily Michelle, Nannie, Andrew, me, Shannon, Boo-Boo, Goldfishie, and Crystal Light the Second. Kristy, Sam, Charlie, and David Michael are Elizabeth’s kids (Elizabeth was married once before she met Daddy), so they are my stepsister and stepbrothers. Kristy is thirteen and she babysits a lot. I just love having a big sister. Sam and Charlie go to high school. David Michael is seven like me, but he does not go to my school.

  Emily Michelle is my adopted sister. She is two and a half. Daddy and Elizabeth adopted her from the faraway country of Vietnam. Sometimes Emily is a pest, but mostly she is okay. (I named my rat after her.)

  Nannie is Elizabeth’s mother. That makes her my stepgrandmother. Nannie helps take care of the house and all us kids.

  Shannon, Boo-Boo, Goldfishie, and Crystal Light are the big-house pets. Shannon is David Michael’s puppy. Boo-Boo is a fat old cat. Guess what Goldfishie and Crystal Light are. (Andrew named Goldfishie.)

  Now do you understand why Andrew and I are two-twos? We have two houses and two families, two mommies and two daddies, two cats and two dogs. We have toys and clothes and books at the little house, and other toys and clothes and books at the big house. Plus I have my two best friends. Hannie lives across the street from Daddy, and Nancy lives next door to Mommy. I even have two pairs of glasses. The blue pair is for reading, the pink pair is for the rest of the time.

  Mostly, I like being a two-two. But sometimes it can be confusing. For instance, if I wanted to take care of Hootie, which house would he go to? Probably the little house, but I could not be sure.

  “Mommy?” I said when I came home from school that day. “Pretty soon Hootie will need a home for a week. Can we take him? Please? All you have to do is write a note to Ms. Colman.”

  Mommy and I talked about caring for Hootie. “Will you be responsible for him, Karen?” asked Mommy. “Taking care of Hootie might be a big job. I do not want any trouble.”

  “I will be very responsible,” I replied. “I promise.”

  “Okay,” said Mommy. “Then I will talk to Daddy.”

  Pizza Express

  That night Mommy called Daddy. They talked about Hootie, in case Hootie had to spend any time at the big house. Daddy said Hootie was welcome, so Mommy wrote a note
to Ms. Colman.

  The next morning I ran into my classroom. I was waving the note around over my head. “Hootie can come to my house! Hootie can come to my house!” I cried. “Look, everybody!”

  “Hey, just a minute!” said Hank Reubens. (Hank is one of Ricky’s good friends.) “Hootie is going to come home with me. I have a note from my parents.”

  “No, Hootie is going to come home with me,” called another voice. Addie Sidney scooted into the room in her wheelchair. “I have a note, too.”

  “Well, so do I,” said Leslie Morris.

  “So do we,” said Terri and Tammy, the twins.

  Uh-oh.

  My classmates and I waited for Ms. Colman to arrive. When she did, we pounced on her with the notes.

  “Everybody wants to take Hootie home,” I said. “And we all have permission.”

  “Maybe we could take turns with Hootie,” suggested Hank. “We could each take him home for one day.”

  “No,” said Ms. Colman. “I do not think Hootie would want to be moved around so much. Let me think about what to do. I will make a decision in a few days. Okay, now. Time to get to work.”

  * * *

  When school was over that day, Hannie and Nancy and I ran outside together. Hannie’s mother was going to take us shopping. She was waiting for us with Sari and Linny. (Sari is Hannie’s little sister, the one who ruined the lipsticks. Linny is Hannie’s older brother.)

  Mrs. Papadakis drove downtown. We hopped out of the car. Linny cried, “Toy store first!”

  But we did not go to the toy store first. That was because we passed Pizza Express on the way. Pizza Express is a restaurant that sells very delicious pizza. And in the window was a sign that said CONTEST INSIDE! YOU COULD BE THE NEXT PIZZA KING OR PIZZA QUEEN! ENTER NOW! Next to the sign was a big photo of a boy wearing a gold crown.

  “A contest!” I exclaimed. “Hey, let’s go in! Please, Mrs. Papadakis? I would like to be the next Pizza Queen.”

  “Me too!” said Nancy and Hannie.

  So we all went inside. “Excuse me,” I said to the woman behind the cash register. “What is a Pizza Queen? What does she do?”

  “She gets to be queen for a month,” said the woman. “She is in the ads for Pizza Express. Her face will appear on the billboard outside of town, and she will even be in a TV commercial. She might make some appearances in the restaurant, too. Oh, and she will receive a prize of a thousand dollars. You should enter the contest. The winner’s name will be drawn next week. Then this month’s Pizza King will hand over his crown to the winner. You can enter as many times as you want,” she added.

  My mouth dropped open. I stared at my friends. This was too good to be true. Queen for a month? My face on a billboard and in a TV commercial? A thousand dollars?

  “Come on, let’s enter!” I cried.

  Mrs. Papadakis and Sari waited while Nancy, Hannie, Linny, and I filled out form after form. We all wanted to win.

  “Come back next Thursday afternoon for the drawing!” called the woman behind the cash register as we were leaving. “Good luck!”

  I decided I would keep my fingers crossed until Thursday.

  Karen’s Lucky Day

  I did not really keep my fingers crossed for a week. I tried, but it was too hard to eat. So I just crossed my fingers whenever I thought of it.

  On Thursday morning I hopped out of bed. It was Pizza Queen day. Something else happened on Thursday, though.

  Ms. Colman made a Surprising Announcement.

  “Boys and girls,” she said, “I have decided what to do about Hootie. I have put all the notes from your parents in this shoebox.” (Ms. Colman pointed to a box on her desk.) “I am going to mix them up, close my eyes, and choose one. The winner will take care of Hootie while our room is being painted. Does that seem fair?”

  “Yes!” said my classmates.

  Ms. Colman shuffled the papers around. She squeezed her eyes shut. Then she reached into the box and pulled out a piece of paper. She opened her eyes. “And the note is from …” she said slowly, “Karen’s mother! Karen Brewer will take care of Hootie for us.”

  Karen Brewer. That was me! I had been so busy thinking about Pizza Express that I had hardly been listening to Ms. Colman. But she had said my name. I had won!

  “Yea!” I cried. “Thank you, Ms. Colman.”

  “Hootie will go home with you in three weeks,” my teacher told me. “Three weeks from tomorrow, on a Friday. You will take care of him for the weekend, the next week, and the weekend after that. Then Hootie can return to our classroom.”

  I nodded solemnly. I had been given an important job.

  * * *

  “Mommy, guess what!” I exclaimed. “Hootie is going to come home with me! Ms. Colman put all the notes in a box, and she chose yours!”

  It was Thursday afternoon. School was over. Mommy was driving Andrew and me to Pizza Express. I could not wait to see who would be the next Pizza King or Pizza Queen.

  “Karen, that is wonderful news,” said Mommy. “I know you will take good care of Hootie. You are very responsible with pets.”

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  Mommy parked the car downtown. We could already see a crowd of people at Pizza Express. There were Hannie and Linny and Nancy and Ricky and Bobby and some other kids in my class. There were their parents. There were a bunch of people I did not know. Also there were some people carrying fancy cameras.

  “Look!” I cried.

  “I think those people are from the newspaper,” said Mommy. “I guess they are going to take pictures of the winner. This is quite a contest.”

  “Hey, who’s that?” asked Andrew. He was pointing to a boy in the window of Pizza Express. The boy was sitting on a throne and wearing a beautiful gold crown. He was smiling at the crowd.

  “That must be the old Pizza King,” I told Andrew. “And try to remember not to point. It isn’t polite.”

  Andrew looked as if he were going to say something, but he did not have a chance. Just then a man waved to the crowd. He was standing in the doorway to Pizza Express, and he was holding a microphone. “Good afternoon,” he said. “Welcome to the Pizza Express Royalty Contest. Today we will choose a new Pizza King or Queen. And we will say good-bye to Rodney Harris, the reigning king. Now without further ado …” The man reached into a huge barrel. It was full of the entry forms we had filled out. He chose one form. “And the winner is,” he said, “Karen Brewer!”

  The Pizza Queen

  I turned to Mommy. “Did he say my name?” I whispered.

  Mommy grinned at me. “Yes!”

  Suddenly I realized everyone was calling to me. Hannie and Nancy pushed through the crowd. They began jumping up and down. “Karen! You are the Pizza Queen!” exclaimed Nancy.

  Ricky found me, too. “I cannot believe it! My wife is the queen! I wonder if that makes me the king.”

  “Karen? Karen Brewer? Where is she?” I heard someone say.

  Then the man with the microphone called my name again. “Is Karen Brewer here?” he asked. “Will she please step forward?”

  “Come with me, Mommy,” I said.

  Mommy and Andrew and I squeezed through the crowd. “Here she is,” Mommy said to the man.

  The man leaned toward me. “Congratulations, Karen. You are the new Pizza Express Pizza Queen. Will you please come with me?”

  Click, click. “Smile, Karen!” The photographers were taking pictures.

  The man led me inside Pizza Express. “I am Mr. Rush,” he said on the way. “I am the owner of Pizza Express. Now if you will just join Rodney here in the window, I will crown you.”

  Mr. Rush helped me into the window. I looked outside. I could see Mommy and Andrew and my friends and the rest of the crowd. They were waving to me. I waved back. I did not feel so nervous.

  Next to me was Rodney the Pizza King. He was still wearing the crown. But he was no longer sitting on his throne.

  Mr. Rush lifted the crown from Rodney’s head. “
Thank you, Rodney. You have been a wonderful king,” he said. Then he set the crown on my head. “Queen Karen,” he went on, “long may you reign. Please be seated on your throne.”

  I sat on the throne. On my head was the gold crown. I really did feel like a queen. I felt lucky, too. First Hootie, then the Pizza Queen. Today was my lucky, lucky day.

  After awhile the crowd drifted away. Mommy and Andrew came inside with Mr. Rush. They helped me out of the window. (I hated to leave my throne, but at least I was still wearing the crown.) We went into Mr. Rush’s office.

  “Let me tell you about Karen’s duties,” he said to Mommy. “She will be in all of the Pizza Express ads for the next month. Actually, for a bit more than a month. As soon as possible, we will set up a photo shoot for her. We will use her pictures on posters and on the billboard outside of town. Also, she will star in a TV commercial that will be shown on the local cable channels. And we will ask her to make several appearances as the Pizza Queen. For her work, she will be paid one thousand dollars. How does that sound to you?”

  Mommy looked at me. “Karen? Do you think you can handle this? It will be a big job.”

  “I can handle it,” I replied.

  So Mr. Rush asked Mommy to sign a piece of paper. Then he wrote out a check. He handed it to Mommy.

  “Thank you,” said Mommy. She looked a little dazed.

  “My pleasure,” said Mr. Rush. “Okay. Karen’s first duty will be filming the TV commercial. We will need her on Saturday. I will give you the details tomorrow. I look forward to working with you.”

  On the way home in the car I wore my crown. “Mommy?” I said. “May I have the check?”

  Mommy shook her head. “Sorry, honey. It goes into your college fund.”

  I did not care. As long as I could wear the crown.

  The TV Star

  “The Pizza Queen, the Pizza Queen, I am the Pizza Queen.” I hummed softly to myself as I got dressed. It was Saturday morning on a big-house weekend. Later in the day I would make my debut as a commercial actress. The TV people had said it did not matter what I wore to the studio. They would give me an outfit there. So I put on blue jeans, a striped T-shirt, and my shoes that look like ballet slippers. Then I put on my crown. I had been wearing the crown since Thursday (except when I was asleep). I had even worn it to school.