Ivy slipped her garlic bread on to Olivia’s plate and carefully wiped her fingers on her napkin. ‘Eat it quick!’ Ivy said. ‘They’re coming back!’
Olivia shoved the whole slice of bread into her mouth as Mr and Mrs Abbott came back.
‘Nothing burning,’ Mrs Abbott confirmed.
Ivy made a big show of saying, ‘Mmmm, garlic bread,’ while Olivia tried to swallow the hunk of bread without choking. The edges of the crusts were scratching the inside of her cheeks and the salvia rushing into her mouth was making it hard not to dribble.
‘Are you all right, Olivia?’ Mrs Abbott asked.
Olivia could only nod emphatically and give the thumbs-up sign.
‘Did you know there was a film crew in town?’ Ivy put in while Olivia swallowed hard.
Olivia was on full alert for the rest of the meal and when her mom and dad disappeared into the kitchen to get dessert, Olivia clutched her tummy and groaned. ‘I’m going to burst like a balloon.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Ivy whispered back. ‘But at least you won’t have to eat two desserts.’
‘After all that garlic bread, I’m not going to be able to eat one dessert,’ Olivia said.
Just then, there was a funny trumpeting noise from the kitchen and her mom and dad came back with party hats on and two candles in the middle of a pie.
They handed two matching party hats to the sisters that had ‘Birthday’ covered over with magazine letters cut out to read ‘Happy Not Moving Day'.
‘We know it should have been a couple of days ago,’ Mrs Abbott said, ‘but we wanted to recognise the wonderful news that you and your father aren’t leaving.’
‘Aw, thanks!’ said Ivy, blowing out the candles.
‘I’m full,’ Olivia confessed when her mom offered her some delicious-looking lemon meringue pie.
‘But it’s your favourite,’ Mr Abbott said.
‘I know, but –’ Olivia began.
‘Oh, sweetheart, it’s a celebration!’ said Mrs Abbott.
Olivia couldn’t stand the upset look on her mother’s face. She sighed. Her belly felt tight as a drum and a loud gurgle erupted. She hugged her stomach and tried to laugh.
‘OK, maybe just a little,’ she said, gazing at her plate as her mum slid a thick slice of trembling lemon meringue on to it.
‘And as you girls have liked the garlic bread so much,’ said Olivia’s mom, picking up the empty plate, ‘I’ll make some more tomorrow!’
Ivy and Olivia looked at each other.
This might be a tricky few days! Olivia thought with dread.
Ivy was spread out like a bug splattered on a windshield, trying to get comfortable on the air mattress that Olivia had blown up for her. But every movement felt squishy and wobbly – nothing at all like the cold, firm feel of a wooden coffin beneath her back, the pleasant feeling of being cosily encased.
‘I can’t get comfortable,’ Ivy complained, pushing the fluffy pillow on to the shaggy white carpet and tugging at her flannel bat-covered pyjamas.
‘At least you haven’t been stuffed like a cabbage leaf,’ Olivia groaned from her four-poster bed.
‘Thanks for eating my share. I’ll make it up to you, somehow.’ Ivy wondered if she could block out the moonlight by taking the thick comforter and taping it up over the lace curtains on the window. How do bunnies get any sleep?
‘It wasn’t as bad as that time I had to face black pudding at your house – ugh!’ Olivia said.
‘You mean, yum,’ Ivy said, her tummy grumbling. She wished she could sneak out of Olivia’s bedroom window and go get a burger. ‘Anyway, I’ve figured out the best way to show my appreciation for your deadly garlic breath: we go back to the movie set tomorrow and I get Jackson’s autograph for you.’
Olivia sat up in her bed in her pink nightie and looked down at Ivy. ‘He’d probably write: To Olivia, seek counselling, from Jackson. P.S. please keep at least 500 feet away from me.’