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plush audience seating.”
    â€œThat can be rented out,” Austin said meaningfully.
    I was utterly thrilled for the space of one second. Then I shrugged and let out a heavy sigh.
    Susan gave me a sideways look. “Why don’t you look more excited?”
    â€œBecause,” I said, “it’s a possible solution, but it’s far from ideal.”
    â€œPerfectionist,” said Susan.
    I refused to take that as an insult.
    â€œWhat does the sign say exactly?” Austin asked.
    â€œIt says, ‘Chappaqua residents may rent this space for the following rates by signing up with the special events coordinator.’ ”
    â€œWe’re Chappaqua residents!” Susan pointed outunnecessarily.
    â€œThank you, Captain Obvious.”
    Austin used his own phone to log on to the CCC website and consult the fee schedule. “The prices are pretty reasonable,” he pronounced. “We can afford this, as long as we’re careful about our other spending.”
    â€œI guess,” I said with a grimace. “But one of the best things about the clubhouse, other than the fact that it’s ours, is that most of the cast can walk there. Only a few of the kids have to get a ride to rehearsal.”
    â€œMaybe we can work around that,” said Susan, turning on the optimism. “You know the moms in this neighborhood are car pool geniuses!”
    She was right, of course. I still wasn’t crazy about the idea, but I also knew it was the only option we had at the moment.
    So we switched from Austin’s phone to my laptop, scanning the CCC website for more information. Unfortunately, that information included the following words: Nonrefundable payment required in advance .
    â€œThat’s a problem,” I said. “If we pay up front for the whole three-week session, and then the clubhouse is ready in time for rehearsals, we’ll be out a fair amount of money.”
    Austin considered this. “Mr. Healy said we definitely couldn’t get in for three weeks. This week we’re off, so thatmeans even though we’ll be without the clubhouse theater for the first two weeks of the session, there’s a chance we’ll be in for tech week and the show.”
    â€œSo . . . ,” I said, puzzling it out, “you’re saying we should pay up front for two weeks and hold rehearsals at the community center? And if the theater isn’t ready by the end of the second week, we pay for the third week and have the show in the CCC auditorium?”
    â€œGot a better idea?” asked Susan.
    I didn’t. “I guess this is what we’re doing, then. Now we just have to hope it isn’t already rented.”
    I reached for Susan’s phone and began to punch in the number for the office of the special events coordinator.
    I was about to hit the call button when the front door opened and my dad came striding in, holding two large plastic bags from our favorite Chinese takeout place. Judging from the serene smile on his face, I was pretty sure he’d come in from the west end of the street and hadn’t seen the fire trucks.
    â€œGirls!” he cried. “Guess who’s taking your mother away next week on a long romantic second honeymoon to Paris?”
    â€œUm . . . you , I hope,” said Susan, raising an eyebrow.
    Dad laughed.
    And I put down the phone.

CHAPTER
    2
    It took some doing to convince Mom she should join Dad on his business trip to France.
    To be perfectly accurate, it took some doing by me to convince her. Because the minute Dad announced his idea to take Mom out of town, an idea had begun to form in my head.
    Austin went home, and Dad called Mom into the family room from her office. He told her he had a surprise, and it wasn’t just the delicious dinner he’d picked up from Panda Pavilion. So Susan and I dashed to the kitchen for plates, and we all sat around the coffee table and listened to him explain while we