“Thank you for driving the girls, Olivia’s mom,” my mother said as I climbed into Mrs. Parker’s car before school.
“No problem… Tori’s mom,” Mrs. Parker replied.
Olivia and I stared at each other.
“Does your mom know my mom’s name?” I whispered.
Olivia shrugged. “Maybe she forgot.”
I couldn’t believe it. Olivia and I were best friends. How could our mothers know nothing about each other?!
“We have to fix this,” I said.
Olivia agreed. “Let’s make nametags.” “Or,” I said, “we could organize a mom-over!”
“A what?”
“A moms-only sleepover. They can watch movies and have pillow fights. By breakfast, they’ll be best friends.”
“I don’t think moms pillow-fight,” Olivia noted.
I grinned. “There’s only one way to find out.”
Olivia was correct: Moms do not pillow-fight.
The slumber party started OK. Mrs. Parker, Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Grant arrived at my house, wearing their cutest pajamas. They ate veggie pizza. Olivia and I painted their nails. Then they watched television… in total silence.
“What do moms talk about?” Olivia asked.
“I don’t know—chore charts?” I said. “Maybe my dad has an idea.”
Olivia and I went upstairs and knocked on my parents’ bedroom door. My father peeked out.
“Dad, how do we get Mom to talk?” I asked.
He laughed. “Track mud on the carpet.”
“I’m serious!” I said, close to tears. “If Mom doesn’t talk, she won’t make friends. She’ll be ‘Tori’s mom’ for the rest of her life.”
Dad gave me a hug. “It’s sweet that you’re worried, Tori. But your mother is a funny, interesting woman. She could make friends with a brick.”
Suddenly, we heard music blasting downstairs. Followed by singing—well, sing-shouting. And lots of laughter.
Olivia and I crept back to the living room. My mom had pulled out our old karaoke machine. She was howling a rock song alongside Olivia’s mom, while the other ladies cheered.
“Way to go, Sumiko!” Mrs. Jones shouted.
I felt warm all over. My mother had friends.
I don’t know if the moms slept that night. They stayed up late, talking and giggling as they snuggled into their sleeping bags. At one point, a second sing-along erupted. Dad had to ask them to quiet down—which only led to more laughter.
As I lay in bed, I thought about my mom’s new friends. They didn’t bond over pizza or pillow fights. All they needed was time to enjoy each other, to stop being moms (just for a second) and reveal the funny, interesting women they’d always been.
Olivia sighed contentedly. “That was the best mom-over ever,” she whispered. A few minutes later, she sat up. “Hey, Tori, what’s your dad’s name?”
