The Sugar Mountain Snow Ball by Elizabeth Atkinson Page B

else. The broom picked up a folded piece of paper from underneath the couch, exactly like one of those little pieces of paper Eleanor had been stuffing in her pockets lately.
    At first, I wasn’t sure if I should open it, but decided I had to, in case it was important:
    W EAR A YELLOW SHIRT IF YES . W EAR A RED SHIRT IF NO .
    It was signed only with the letters “NA” at the bottom.
    I figured it was probably something Pop had written down before a road trip, although it didn’t make much sense. Who knew how long it could have been tucked under the sofa? Pop hadn’t been home since his short break during the holidays. So I decided to toss the note, and continued cleaning and sorting like crazy until the snowstorm had passed.
    The family room and kitchen were as “neat as a pin,” according to Mim, who arrived just before it was time for me to leave for Eleanor’s house. Mim said it made her feel almost as good as having Pop home, which suddenly made me miss him more than usual. He had never been away this long before, but I didn’t say anything—I didn’t want to spoil Mim’s happy mood.
    The sun had already begun to set behind the mountains as I walked down our driveway, even though the whole world still felt fresh and crisp and sparkling clean. I was so excited to visit Eleanor’s house for the first time that I rushed over without checking the mystery boy’s giant yard to see if he was around, and to ask why he had been spying on us. I even forgot to peek behind the Dumpsters down Apparition Way for signs of Madame M as I power-walked through the village.
    Since I’d hurried over to Eleanor’s so fast, I arrived fifteen minutes early, which seemed too soon to land at someone’s house as a guest, so I set down my cookie gift box on their front steps and spelled out a snow message in the Bandaranaikes’ side yard that said THANK YOU !!
    Their house was one level and painted a creamy yellow. It looked brand-new. I checked my watch, picked up the cookie box, and rang the doorbell at exactly five o’clock.
    When Eleanor cracked the door open I could barely contain my excitement.
    â€œMIM SENT OVER A DOZEN NON-REJECT MONSTER CHUNK COOKIES IN ONE OF THE SPECIAL SLOPE SIDE CAFÉ CARTONS FOR DESSERT!!” I shouted, before the door was fully opened.
    She stared, almost as if she didn’t recognize me.
    â€œWelcome, Ruby!” said Mr. B, who appeared at Eleanor’s side. “We’re delighted to have you join us.”
    â€œHi there, Mr. B! Thanks for having me,” I said, plowing through the front door. “Wow! I just love your house.”
    â€œThank you,” he said, smiling hard. “Please make yourself at home.”
    â€œRuby,” Eleanor whispered as she caught my arm, “you have to take off your boots.”
    I glanced down and saw that both Eleanor and her father were wearing thin foreign sandals.
    â€œOh, this is going to be so fun. Everything’s already wicked different.”
    I gave them tons of compliments on their decorations, which is the thing to do when you go to someone’s home for the first time, but in this case I totally meant everything I said, because their house was super cute and neat and reminded me of a dollhouse.
    â€œOooooh, that’s a nice vase . . . and I love this gold rug! That picture of elephants doesn’t look like anything you’d buy here in Paris.”
    â€œThis way, Ruby,” said her father, so I followed him, in stocking feet, down the bright hallway to the family room.
    â€œAnd you have so many windows—but I know that’s because we live in a really old house, and in the olden days they didn’t have so many windows, to keep the heat in, except they usually had a couple windows in the front of the house, like ours, so you could see what was going on outside.”
    I could hear myself talking way too much, and way too fast, but I was