a high shelf in the back of her closet. The stash was a huge wad of hundred-dollar bills, which she'd secretly peeled off Karl's casino winnings. Mom didn't need the money; she and Karl had a joint account. Claudia and I figured she tucked it away so she could feel a little bit independent.
We'd raided the stash before. Never more than one bill, and only for really important things, like the matching birthstone necklaces we once got for each other at the exact midpoint between our two summer birthdays. Mom never noticed. The wad was big enough that a single hundred here or there made no difference. She wouldn't miss the one I'd use for the fake ID.
The next day at school I was a wreck. Not about the money and the ID—I was petrified about the Populazzi girls coming over. I'd asked Mom and Karl about it at dinner the night before, and they'd agreed immediately. The mere mention of Trista appearing on our doorstep was enough to get Karl to toss aside his newspaper for the rest of the meal. Mom was just as excited and grilled me about delicacies Trista, Kristie, and Renee would most enjoy.
I suppose I should have been happy about their enthusiasm, but it only made me more nervous. Honestly, I didn't know what worried me more: super-rich Trista's horror at our average-size lifestyle or Karl finding some fatal flaw in one of the girls that would make him ban them from my presence.
I should have had more confidence in Trista. She spent all our free time that day pumping me for added information about Mom and Karl. Thus armed, Trista, Kristie, and Ree-Ree made it impossible for my parents not to fall even more in love with them. First they hung out with Mom in the kitchen. Mom was making her signature turkey chili, and Kristie dove in to help, chatting about her own favorite "cold-weather recipes" while gushing over the genius of Mom's.
"This recipe actually reminds me of one of my favorite chefs," Kristie said. "Have you ever heard of Cat Cora?"
"Are you kidding?" my mom asked. "Here, I want to show you something."
Mom flung open the cabinet in which she kept all her cookbooks and pulled out everything Cat Cora had ever written. Of course, I'd already told Kristie Mom had those books, just like I'd told her Cat Cora was mom's culinary role model and the main reason she never missed an episode of Iron Chef America. Yet Kristie's interest had sounded so genuine, Mom didn't question it.
"I've been to her restaurant at Disney World," Ree-Ree said as she and Trista bustled to set the perfect table, which was arranged around a beautiful floral centerpiece they'd brought along themselves.
Ree-Ree had never been to Disney World. With the exception of a few vacations with Trista's family, Ree-Ree had never left the tri-state area.
"Oh, Kouzzina! I've been dying to go there!" Mom said. "How did you like the food?"
Ree-Ree wasn't much of a student, but she'd clearly studied the restaurant review Trista had e-mailed her. She didn't miss a beat discussing its ins and outs.
Mom could have spoken to the Populazzi all night, but the moment Karl came downstairs for dinner, my brilliant friends turned all their attention to him. Kristie asked a million questions about Northwestern, which she and Trista both said they'd decided was their first-choice college. Ree-Ree told story after story about her grandfather, whose high-roller exploits at the Atlantic City blackjack tables were legendary. Trista commiserated about the Philadelphia Eagles' devastating Super Bowl loss and discussed exactly what "their" team needed to do to get back on its feet.
I was in awe. By the time they left and Trista gave me a final wink, Karl would have been more than happy to let me move in with any of them.
"I am very impressed, Cara," he said. "I like your new friends quite a bit. You're an excellent judge of character."
Actually, Trista was the excellent judge of Mom's and Karl's characters, but it netted out to the same thing: total freedom. I went right to Trista's every day after school. On Friday, I brought an overnight bag—I'd be staying for the whole weekend. Kristie and Ree-Ree were, too. They almost always did on weekends. Now I'd have the same regular routine.
We didn't do anything special on Friday. Since we didn't have to drive, Trista made all kinds of concoctions in The Hole and we drank them up. They tasted