A Summer of Sundays (19 page)

Maybe he just needed a friend.

“Did she write any other books besides that one?” Jude asked, interrupting my thoughts.

“No, that was her only published book.” He said it matter-of-factly.

“Really?” I didn’t try to hide my disappointment. “I was looking forward to reading another one by her.”

“The whole world felt that way.” Ben picked up the plate of cookies and started toward the kitchen. “I’m getting a little tired now. Why don’t you two finish up out there? I think you’ll be done by the afternoon.”

I echoed Jude’s thank-you and followed him to the door.

Lonely. Out of practice. Need to get around people.

I turned. “Mr. Folger? Ben?”

He stopped, the cookie plate still in his hands. He did look tired. “Yes?”

“Do you want to come to my house for dinner tonight?”

He looked surprised and a little confused, and I thought he was going to say yes. But, just as quickly, he shook his head no. “I don’t think so, Sunday. Thank you. I’m … well, I’m just a bit too tired, and I don’t think—”

I wasn’t going to let him back out so easily. “My mom
is a really good cook. I don’t know what she’s making yet, but she always makes enough, and I”—I tried to slow myself down—“I know you’ll have fun.”

“That’s very nice, but no thank you. I’m going to lie down. You two better get busy.”

I grabbed Jude’s arm as soon as the door closed behind us. “Will you start on the flower bed? I’ll be right back.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Ask my mom to call him to come over for dinner. I think he’ll come if she asks.”

Jude shrugged. “Okay. But hurry back. My arm is about to fall off as it is.”

I dashed across the field. Mom, who said, “Why of course. Invite Jude as well. Now hand me the phone,” turned to Miss Jenny and asked her if she’d like to join us for dinner, too. It was turning into a regular party.

I rushed back over to Ben’s house and helped Jude finish up the flower bed. “My mom said you could come. I think she’s going to call your mom and ask.”

We finished the flower bed an hour later. After we put our trowel and shovel on the porch and washed our hands, I knocked on Ben’s door.

“We finished the flower bed.”

“Is that so?” He stepped out and looked at the freshly tilled soil. “Very nice.”

“It was actually sort of fun,” I said.

“It looks like I’ll be seeing you two sooner rather than later. I think hamburgers and hot dogs are on the menu?”

I grinned.

“Cool. I’m coming, too,” Jude piped in.

“I’ll see you later on then.” Ben walked back inside his house. “Thank you.”

Jude and I bounded off the porch and across the field.

“He’ll kill us all!” CJ said, grabbing ahold of his neck as if he couldn’t breathe.

Mom sighed. “CJ, will you stop. He is not going to kill anyone.”

“Yeah, he hasn’t killed Sunday yet, right, Sunday?” Bo said, squeezing my hand.

I nodded. “He’s really nice.”

“And he makes really good brownies,” Jude said.

CJ stuffed his walkie-talkie in his pocket and huffed. “Well, I’m going to carry this around with me. I have the police radio on station three so I can—”

Mom held out her hand. “Hand it over.”

“But, Mom.”

“I told you before, do not try and listen in on people, most of all the police. You could get in serious trouble.”

“We’ll all be in serious trouble if I don’t keep it close. Besides, I promise I’ll only listen a little bit.”

“Hand. It. Over.”

He plopped the walkie-talkie into Mom’s hand, then slumped off outside. “I never have any fun.”

Ben Folger arrived ten minutes before dinner carrying a small bouquet of flowers. He looked kind of uncomfortable in his button-up shirt and wrinkled pants, and smiled nervously.

“Hi, Ben,” I said, leading him up the stairs to the house. “My mom’s inside.”

He coughed into his hand. “Oh, okay.”

“You look nice.”

He laughed a little bit and leaned down. “I haven’t worn these pants or this shirt in over ten years.”

I grinned but didn’t mention the fact that I could tell.

Mom greeted him as soon as we walked through the door. “Thank you so much for coming, Mr. Folger.”

“Call me Ben, please.” He held out the bouquet of flowers to her. “Thank you for the invitation.”

“Hi, Ben,” Jude said, staggering toward him—Henry clinging to his right leg.

“Hello, Jude. It looks like you have a stowaway.”

Henry tucked his head out of sight.

“That’s my youngest brother, Henry. This is Bo,” I said as Bo rushed up and pressed himself against me.

“Hey.” CJ walked over and gave Ben a good look up and down. “Can I see your cane?”

“CJ!” I scolded.

Ben handed my brother his cane. “So this is CJ?”

CJ tugged and pulled every which way.

“Are you looking for the knife I keep hidden? It’s not there,” Ben said, and winked. “It’s in my other one.”

CJ stared at him with wide eyes, then handed Ben back the cane. “Do you wanna sit next to me at dinner?”

Ben nodded. “Of course. I’d be happy to.”

Dad came in then. “Hi, Ben,” he said. “It’s good to have you over.” And he took him into the dining room, where Mom was chatting with Miss Jenny.

Jude walked up to me. “I never, ever would have believed that I’d be having dinner with Ben Folger.”

“Yeah, it’s crazy, isn’t it?”

“You’re doing it, Sunday,” he said. “You brought the hermit out of his house and he’s making friends.”

Just then Mom called everyone in and we squished around the table. Dinner began, and it was chaos as usual.

May and Emma were fighting over some shirt.

“Mom, tell her it’s mine,” May whined.

“Is it?” Mom asked.

“Yeah,” Emma said. “But it doesn’t fit her anymore.”

“Does too.”

“Yeah, right.”

I took a bite of my hamburger and watched as Henry dumped forkfuls of his peas onto the napkin in his lap.
I knew that later he’d carry the napkin outside and throw each and every pea onto the roof.

CJ and Bo spent every spare minute they could asking Ben Folger questions like: “Have you ever eaten a cat?” “What’s in your basement?” and “Do you like raw meat?” before Mom threatened to make them clean the toilets.

After that, Miss Jenny talked to Ben about the library, something that seemed to make his face light up.

“I’d really like it if you could help me with a few things,” Miss Jenny said. “I have some ideas for programs I want to start, but I’m not sure where to begin.”

I watched Ben fiddle with his napkin. “Well, I don’t know if I’d really be any help—”

“But you would. And I’d really appreciate it.”

The rest of the conversation was lost when Henry toppled over his glass of milk.

“Sunday, could you help clean this up?” Mom asked, steering Henry toward me.

After mopping up my brother, throwing away his pea-filled napkin, and helping him into a new shirt, I found CJ in the bathroom preparing to give Bo a haircut.

“It can’t be hard,” he said. “Besides, Mom said that if we got gum stuck in our hair one more time, she’d just shave it—”

I noticed a thick wad of gum mashed into Bo’s hair. At least I’d come before CJ took the buzzer to his head.

“I didn’t mean to get it stuck, Sunday,” Bo whimpered, hugging my waist. “Don’t tell Mommy.”

I sighed and said, “Just wait here,” and went downstairs, where I secreted away a jar of peanut butter. By the time I was done getting the gum out and rinsing his hair a few times so it didn’t smell like an old sandwich, the table was empty and Ben Folger was starting off toward his house, his silhouette barely visible in the dusk.

“He’s leaving already?” I asked.

Mom smiled and waved to Miss Jenny, who had just hopped onto her bike and was riding away. “It’s getting late and Ben said he needed to get back home. But he’s stopping by the library to help out, so you’ll see him then.”

I’d missed everything! “And what about Jude?”

“He just left. Wally came by and got him. But he said he’ll see you tomorrow.” Mom turned toward me. “Why do you smell like peanut butter?”

I started back inside. “Don’t ask.”

“So where did you go last night?” Jude asked the next morning. The reopening party was in a little over a week and there were still a ton of books that needed to be logged into the computer and then shelved.

“Well, I cleaned up Henry, and then Bo had gum stuck in his hair. It was a mess. What did I miss?”

Jude shrugged and swallowed down a piece of chocolate chip muffin. “Not much. They just talked about the library a bunch. And Ben is coming over to help today.”

“Yeah, that’s what my mom said.”

Ben Folger was already bent over a box of books when Jude and I walked into the library. Mom was helping Dad move some of the newly finished desks around, and Miss Jenny was sitting at the computer.

“Hi, Ben,” I said, walking over to him.

“Hi, Sunday. Jude.” He turned. “I think you’ll like this one, too, CJ.”

CJ? My brother who couldn’t stand to read? My brother who had helped at the library only when he was forced to?

CJ strutted over to Ben with Bo and Henry. He took the book from Ben’s hand and read the cover.
“Captain Underpants?”
He grinned and fanned out the pages.

“Yep, it’s funny,” Ben said.

“You read
Captain Underpants
?” I asked.

Ben nodded and winked at me. “I like to know what kids are reading these days.”

“You know, Ben”—Miss Jenny looked up from her computer—“I’m going to need help with the kids’ program. Would you be interested?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m awful old and grouchy these days.”

Miss Jenny laughed and then turned to Jude and me.
“Those stacks over there are all logged into the computer. Do you two want to help shelve them?”

When lunchtime came around, Jude and I went over to Ben’s house and sat out on the porch and talked while we ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. And that night, he had all of us over to his house for dinner.

The lasagna he made was kind of burnt in places. But me, Jude, and my brothers got to look down in Ben’s basement, which was a big disappointment for CJ.

“Not even one single bone or instrument of torture,” he whined on the way home.

The next two days went the same way, working in the morning, talking in the afternoon. The mysterious manuscript and the letters still bounced around in my head, but I hardly had time to think about them with the work at the library and afternoons with Ben and Jude. But on the third day, when Muzzy came over to the library carrying a blueberry pie, I realized I needed to get back to my investigation.

She pushed through the library door. “Yoo-hoo!”

“Hi, Muzzy,” I said, and waved.

She just about dropped the pie all over the polished floors when she saw Ben Folger. “Land sakes! What’s he doing here?”

She left a little while later, promising Ben Folger and Miss Jenny their own pies.

By that afternoon, half the town had “dropped by” and I watched as Ben Folger gave his shy smile as he separated and shelved books.

“Your brothers and sisters and your mom and dad, Sunday,” Ms. Bodnar said, “why you all seem to have performed quite a miracle. And that brother of yours, CJ, seems completely taken with him. Who would’ve thought—?”

But the rest of her words were lost to me.

My brothers and sisters.

My mom and dad.

CJ.

I was lost in the shuffle again. Sure, I was happy that Ben Folger was smiling and talking and sort of making friends. But knowing how hard I’d worked—the cookies, the spying, the gardening, inviting him over for dinner—and my family getting the credit, I felt like I was back on the orange bench at the gas station, blending into the background.

If only I was someone that really
was
special. Like Harry Potter finding out he was a wizard or Matilda finding out she had a secret power. It would be so much easier to stand out.

But I was just Sunday.

Jude tugged on my arm, and I blinked back to reality. “Are you okay?”

I had to do something. “Bye, Ms. Bodnar. Come on, Jude, we have stuff we have to do.”

I pulled him toward the house.

“Where are we going?”

“To my room.”

“Sunday!” Great. Bo had spotted me. I ignored him and sped up.

“Wait up, Sunday!”

What was the use? “What do you want, Bo?”

He shrank back a little bit, but I couldn’t find it in me to feel sorry. “I … what are you doing?”

“Nothing. Jude and I have some things we need to do. Alone.” I started up the porch stairs.

Bo’s footsteps slapped after me. “I won’t get in the way. Promise.”

“No, Bo!” I yelled. I stopped. I never yelled at Bo.

His eyebrows scrunched together. “You don’t have to be mean. Maybe CJ’s right. Maybe you are getting old and boring like May and Emma.”

I felt horrible. “Bo. I’m sorry I yelled. Jude and I just need to do something for a second.” I went to Bo, kneeling down and wrapping him in a hug. “We’ll be down in a little bit. And … tonight you can sleep up in my room again and I’ll tell you a story.”

“The story about Lilly and Mark?”

I smiled. “Yeah, that one. Okay?”

Bo shrugged and said, “All right,” as he started off toward the woods, where I could hear the banging of CJ’s hammer.

Jude and I raced up to my room.

“So what’s this about?” Jude asked.

I pulled out the manuscript from beneath my mattress, “This. I need to find out who wrote it. It’s the only way that I’m going to make my mark.”

“But you got Ben to come out like you wanted to.”

“You heard Ms. Bodnar. It’s just like how I told you it would be. My brothers and sisters got as much credit as I did. Nobody knows, or cares, what part I had in it.”

Jude plopped onto the bed and flipped through some of the manuscript. “Tell them, then.”

I paced the room and shook my head. “You don’t understand. It doesn’t work like that.” I reached for the story and held it up. “This is what’s going to help me stand out. Finding out who the author is.”