A Summer of Sundays (13 page)

“I can’t anymore, Joanne. That dog eats them. Remember the roses and the daisies and the gardenias? And don’t even get me started on the potted plants I’ve brought home.”

Muzzy held up her hand. “All right, Gil. I will never ask for flowers again.”

“Well, if you do, I’ll be sure to put them straight into Mr. Castor’s bowl.”

I knocked Jude with my elbow as he grabbed a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup from Muzzy’s candy bowl.

“Well, I guess we should get going. Thanks for telling us about Mr. Folger.”

“I’ll let you know if I remember anything else. It was nice to meet you, Sunday.” Muzzy smiled and held out the basket of candy to me. Besides Reese’s Cups, there were other candy bars, little cupcakes wrapped in cellophane, packages of gum, and lollipops. I picked out a Snickers bar.

“Maybe you should ask them if they want some, too?” Papa Gil said, nodding to the window.

I turned around and saw the tops of three heads. One by one, they inched up to standing and there they were: CJ, Bo, and Henry, their noses plastered against the glass, making fog marks on the window. I inwardly groaned.

“Those are my brothers,” I said.

Papa Gil motioned for them to come in. “Well, they must be pretty good spies ’cause they followed you two here and have been sitting outside ever since you walked in.”

Anger bubbled up inside me. How long had they been trailing behind us? What had they heard? They couldn’t know what I was doing or everything would be ruined.

As CJ, Bo, and Henry filed inside, Mr. Castor went through his scrambling, jumping, swooshing, slobbering, and chewing routine all over again. When the dog had settled down, Henry ran straight for Jude, locking his arms around his legs. Bo ran to me. CJ mumbled about how big Mr. Castor’s poop must be, and picked up everything he could get his hands on, examining it, and then setting it back down.

I grabbed Bo and started for the door. “CJ, put that down. Come on, Henry. Bo. Sorry, Muzzy and Papa Gil.”

“Oh, don’t worry, and don’t go yet. Let them each pick out a piece of candy.”

Bo wriggled out of my grip and ran to the basket to join CJ and Henry, who were already pawing through it. Bo emerged with a Snickers bar, Henry with a pack of gum, and CJ with a lollipop.

“So,” Muzzy said, selecting a lollipop for herself. “Tell me everyone’s name.”

“Bo.”

“CJ.”

“I’m Henry.”

Muzzy and Papa Gil shook each of their hands. “It’s nice to meet you. Come back real soon and visit.”

My brothers grinned, and I could pretty much picture what each of them was imagining. Eating candy, swimming in candy, pockets loaded down with candy.

“Sure!” they said in unison.

I herded everyone, including Jude, to the door. “Thanks again.”

“And tell your parents that we said hello.”

“I will. Thanks.”

The bell dinged above our heads as we all filed out onto the sidewalk. I turned to CJ. “How long have you been following us?”

He shrugged, unwrapping his lollipop. “I don’t know. Since you left. I can’t believe you didn’t see us.”

Great. Just great. He’d probably heard everything.

The lollipop made a big lump in the side of his cheek. He laughed. “So do you guys looove each other now?”

Jude and I both gave a hearty
no
, and I stomped off in the direction of home. There were still things I needed to find out, especially since I hadn’t gotten anything useful from Muzzy. But I couldn’t do it with the Three Attention Stealers at my heels. I turned around to say something and saw CJ showing Jude how to stick his hands in his armpits to make toot noises.

Even Jude had fallen under my siblings’ spells. I should’ve known. Well, maybe Mom could keep the boys occupied at least for a little while. And May or Emma
could watch them for once. They always got out of helping.

Just then our van came squealing around a corner, hiccupped once, then stalled in the middle of the street.

May.

The back door opened and Emma jumped out, slamming it behind her. “Never again, May Fowler!” she yelled. Emma threw her backpack over her shoulders and stomped off down the sidewalk toward a large brick building.

I spied Mom in the passenger seat, her cheeks splotchy with bright red hives. May was attempting to restart the car, wiping her nose at the same time.

“Cool,” CJ said, crunching down on his lollipop. “Did you see how she almost crashed? That was awesome.”

I rolled my eyes and started toward home. “Come on. We’ll go and see what Dad is doing at the library.”

Jude caught up to my pace and smiled sheepishly. “I bet there’s play practice today.” He shrugged like he didn’t really care, even though he obviously did. “Who knows, we might be able to talk to someone about”—he turned around and then whispered—“Ben Folger.”

I kept walking. “I know why you really want to go.” I looked down the sidewalk at the retreating figure of my sister, her hair bouncing on her back, always the picture of beauty. “You just want to see Emma.”

“Ew, Jude likes Emma?” CJ laughed. “That’s so gross.”

“I like Emma,” Henry said.

Jude’s cheeks filled with red. “No. And she’s not my sister, so it’s not gross. And you have to admit, Sunday, that we might find someone there to talk to who knows hi—”

I covered his mouth with my hand and clenched my jaw. All three of my brothers surrounded us, itching to know our secret.

“Knows who?” Bo asked. He now had a chocolate mustache and beard from the Snickers Bar. “Do you like someone, Sunday?”

“No,” I said.

“Yeah, ’cause she already has a boyfriend,” CJ crooned. “Robo Matthews.”

I felt my cheeks burn. Jude smiled smugly. “Really? Robo?”

Robo. The cutest boy I had ever seen. The name that I had scribbled in my journal a hundred times (and then erased). The boy who didn’t know I existed.

“I do not like Robo!” I yelled. No girl in her right mind would ever admit a crush to her younger brother who still thought deodorant was a weapon.

“Oh, yeah?” CJ teased. “I saw a page of lovey-dovey drawings that proves it.”

I swore on the grave of my goldfish, Goldie, who I won
at the town fair two summers ago, that I was going to wring my brother’s neck right then and there. I lunged for him but Jude grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

“Oh, let it go, Sunday. I like Emma, you like a guy named Robo. Who cares?”

“I do not.” My eyes stung and I wriggled out of his grip.

CJ started making kissing noises, which Henry thought was hilarious, so of course, he started in on it, too.

“Cut it out, CJ,” Jude said.

Bo licked his fingers. “Yeah, cut it out. Sunday is sad.”

Good old Bo. My anger fizzled down a little bit.

Jude pulled my arm. “Now come on, Sunday. Let’s go and watch the practice. We’ll see if someone there knows anything about … you-know-who. If not, we’ll go.”

I nodded, trying to ignore the “K-I-S-S-I-N-G” song that CJ was singing.

“Go home, CJ!” I yelled.

“No way. I’m coming with you guys.”

Jude shrugged. “Fine. I guess you won’t mind watching me kiss your sister?”

CJ’s face turned pale, and he pretended like he was going to throw up.

Jude made kissing noises of his own, and CJ was off and running with Henry at his heels.

I smiled. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Bo put his sticky hand in mine. I looked down at him. “Why don’t you go back with CJ?”

“I don’t want to. I wanna stay with you. I promise I won’t talk about Robo.”

As sweet as he had just been, and as much as I liked it when he chose me over my brothers, I rolled my eyes at the thought of him tagging along. “Come on, Bo,” I said, louder. “Go home. Jude and I have stuff we have to do.”

“No. I don’t wanna.”

I groaned and dropped his hand. Bo’s lip trembled.

If my parents saw me pouting like that they’d say I was acting like a baby. But if I pouted in the slightly more sophisticated way that Emma and May did, my parents would accuse me of trying to act older than I was.

Too young. Too old. I couldn’t win.

“Oh, let him come,” Jude said. “He won’t get in the way. Besides, we might not even be there for very long.”

Bo’s face broke into a wide smile, and he grabbed my hand again, then reached for Jude’s. He looked up at me, his brown eyes sparkling. “Do you love Robo more than me?”

I wanted to yell that if he wanted to live another minute he should never, ever, ever mention the name Robo again. But I stopped myself and sighed.

I remembered Bo’s even breaths as he slept, cuddled up under the covers the night before. His small voice
asking me if I could tell him a story. The way he’d told CJ to cut it out. I gave Bo a small smile. “No. I could never love him more than you.”

The rehearsal for
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
was uneventful. The director said he’d talk to us if we agreed to be Puck’s fairy friends in the play, which we wouldn’t. (Jude thought about it but said no when he saw sketches of what Emma had in mind for the costumes.)

All the other adults were busy with the sets, or working with the sound and lighting. When I saw a group of kids who looked around CJ’s age, I almost wished that he and Henry had come along. If he made some friends, maybe he’d stay out of my hair more. But that would probably mean that I’d be on full-time Henry and Bo duty. Even though CJ was a pain almost every second of the day, he did entertain our brothers. I had to give him that.

We left the play practice with no more information than when we had started this morning, and Jude was more starry-eyed for Emma than ever before.

“I won’t make fun of you and Robo Matthews if you promise not to make fun of me and Emma,” Jude said. Bo ran ahead of us, jumping over the cracks in the sidewalk.

“Okay. But—” How was I going to explain that I didn’t
mind that he liked Emma. I just didn’t want to get left behind. “Just … when she’s around, don’t forget that I’m still there.”

“Course. Why would I forget? We’re friends. Besides, she hardly knows I exist.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. She’s just crazy about the play right now.” I wanted to add that she was also a few years older than him but stopped myself. He knew that already. And really, it didn’t matter.

A FEW
mornings later, Jude was dropped off by his mom and Wally.

“I get off early today,” Wally called through the rolled-down window. “Maybe you and I can practice our catching for the fair or go out for ice cream or something.”

“Wally,” Ms. Trist said. “He doesn’t need all that sugar, and I know they don’t use organic milk in that place.”

Wally leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “He’ll be fine.” Then he turned back to Jude, who was staring at his shoelaces. “What do you think?”

Jude shrugged. “If Mom doesn’t want me to eat ice cream, I probably shouldn’t.”

Now Ms. Trist smiled. “Well, maybe just this once. You two go and have some fun.”

After they left, Jude quietly sulked until the smell of Mom’s waffles drifted out.

“Come on,” I said, pulling on his arm. “You’ll love my mom’s waffles.”

We each wolfed down two, put our plates in the sink, and then walked back outside. My sisters were upstairs fussing over their hair and clothes, and my brothers were just sitting down to eat their breakfast. Judging by how fast the boys usually ate and how quickly they’d be nosing around to see what Jude and I were up to, I figured we had about ten minutes. Eight, if CJ decided to have four waffles instead of his usual six.

“So tell me again, why are we sneaking down to the basement of the library?”

I shifted my backpack on my shoulders. “It isn’t really sneaking if you’re talking that loud, is it? Now, come on.”

“No one can hear us over all that racket your dad’s making outside anyway.” At least he whispered this time.

“We can’t take any chances. By the way, you have chocolate on your cheek.”

Jude reached up and swiped the blob away, then licked his fingers. If his mom only knew all the nonorganic things he was eating every day when he came over, she’d probably choke on her arrowroot cookie.

Our shoes squeaked on the new floor as we made our way to the basement stairs.

“So what is this about?” Jude eyed one of the empty spiderwebs in the corner of the room.

“Looking around to see if we find anything else. Another clue to that manuscript. This is where I found it.
There could be other things that were hidden. You look in the boxes on the first two shelves. I’ll look in the other ones. Since Ben Folger was a librarian, see if you can find anything with his name on it.”

We sifted through dusty books and folders, but all we found were old tax forms, books, unused envelopes, and an occasional overdue notice.

“Have you looked in the place where you found the story?” Jude asked as he returned a box to the shelf.

“Yeah, but there wasn’t anything else. Just some old—” I remembered the small stack of envelopes bound with a rubber band that I had tossed inside a cardboard box when I first found the story. I walked over to the box, still sitting on the table where I had first set it down. The envelopes—worn around the edges, their blue ink faded—sat on top of two old cassette tapes.