“How did you sleep?” Isa said.
“I woke up in the middle of the night.”
“Did you have a bad dream?”
Laney shook her head. “No, I just . . . heard something. And it woke me up.”
“I wish I could let you sleep some more, but we’ve got to get moving to find Pop-Pop’s friend. Oliver tracked him down.”
“Okay,” Laney said, rubbing her eyes.
Isa left the bedroom and made her way down the stairs. Jessie and Aunt Penny were sitting at the dining room table discussing coral reef biology. As Isa got closer, a new smell filled her nose. Grandma was cooking something on the stove. Grandpa had found a screwdriver kit and was tightening the bolt on a wobbly dining room chair.
“Good morning,” Isa said. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” Grandma said. A pot filled with rice and water bubbled slowly on the stove, and Grandma paused to open the spice cabinet to rummage around. “Your mom doesn’t even have basic ingredients.”
Isa bristled. “Mama is a great cook.”
“I had to bring my own ingredients with me.” She gestured to the cutting board, where there was a bunch of scallions and a knot of ginger.
“Mama sometimes uses scallions and ginger,” Isa said. “Just not every day.”
Grandma ignored her. “She had to work again, so I’m making breakfast.”
Oliver came down the stairs, raced through the living room, and opened the refrigerator, analyzing the contents.
“What are you doing?” Grandma asked.
Oliver’s eyes darted about as if it were a trick question. “Getting something to eat?”
“I am making breakfast!”
“If I don’t eat something right now my stomach is going to cave in,” Oliver said.
“You will wait,” Grandma said, walking over to the refrigerator, lightly pushing him out of the way, and closing the door.
The sound of feet thundering down the stairs along with Franz howling gave way to Laney and Hyacinth.
Laney wrinkled her nose. “What’s that smell I smell?”
“Grandma is making breakfast,” Jessie told them.
“I’m so hungry,” Oliver repeated. He looked longingly at the refrigerator.
“You cannot rush this breakfast,” Grandma told them. “I was going to start cooking earlier, but I didn’t know when you would wake up.”
The Vanderbeekers glanced at each other. Isa looked at her watch. Grandma didn’t seem to be in any hurry. Jessie nudged Isa and tilted her head toward Grandma, and Isa shook her head slightly. Jessie opened her eyes really wide and angled her head toward Grandma again, and Isa sighed. No one else was going to do it, so it was up to her.
“Grandma,” Isa began, “that’s so nice of you to make breakfast for us, but we have morning plans to go visit Papa’s dad’s friend. I was thinking that I would make a quick breakfast for everyone now, and we can have whatever you’re making for lunch. Would that be okay?”
Grandma turned and glared at Isa. “We are having this for breakfast.”
Isa slumped into a dining room chair. Jessie and Aunt Penny looked at her sympathetically, but there was nothing to do.
So Hyacinth fed a ravenous Franz (“He’s such a sloppy eater,” Grandma said) and Laney fed the famished Tuxedo and George Washington (“Their food smells disgusting,” Grandma said) and Oliver fed the chickens (“I don’t know why you’re keeping chickens if you’re not going to eat them,” Grandma said). Even when all the pet feeding was done, breakfast still wasn’t ready. Oliver looked as if he was going to keel over from hunger.
The Vanderbeekers got utensils out and they sat around the table, watching Grandma slowly cut the green onions into paper-thin slices. She stirred the bubbling pot of white rice and broth and leaned over to breathe in the steam, repeating the process many times. Finally, what seemed like hours later, she turned off the heat.
“Almost done,” she announced.
“Thank goodness,” Oliver whispered, his head on the table.
Grandpa closed his screwdriver kit and sat on the chair he’d been working on, looking satisfied. Laney sat next to him and joined everyone watching Grandma finish preparations.
Grandma went to the refrigerator, pulled out a package, and unwrapped the pink paper carefully.
“What is that?” Laney asked, her nose wrinkling again.
“I brought it here from the best grocer in Ottenville,” Grandma said. “It will go nicely with breakfast. Your mom and uncle loved this when they were growing up.”
She put the contents of the package on a platter, then put the platter in the microwave. The smell of meat filled the apartment.
“That smells like meat,” Laney whispered to Isa.
“I think it is meat,” Isa whispered back. “Remember, it’s okay if you don’t want to eat meat, but other people still can if they want to.”
Isa stood up and walked to the kitchen.
“Grandma,” Isa said, “is that meat in the microwave?”
Grandma nodded just as the microwave dinged. She opened the door and took the platter out.
“Would it be possible,” Isa said, “to keep that separate from the rest of breakfast? Hyacinth and Laney don’t—”
With one quick motion of her hand, Grandma swept the meat right into the pot.
“—eat meat,” Isa finished.
“It is best this way,” Grandma said as she brought the pot to the center of the table and put it on a trivet. “The juices get into the soup.”
“I don’t eat meat,” Laney announced.
“Me either,” Hyacinth said.
“I do,” Oliver said. “Can we start?”
“I’ll make you something else,” Isa said to her little sisters.
“They should try it,” Grandma said. “It’s my specialty.”
“No, thank you,” Hyacinth said.
“Can we have waffles instead?” Laney asked.
Grandma’s mouth turned into a line. “You will eat this,” she said, taking bowls and spooning soup into them. She set one bowl in front of Laney and one in front of Hyacinth. “This duck is delicious,” she assured them.
“Wait,” Oliver said. “That’s duck?”
“Duck like Make Way for Ducklings?” Laney said.
“Duck as in the cute birds that live in Central Park?” Hyacinth said.
Grandma looked puzzled. “Don’t you ever eat duck?”
Laney and Hyacinth looked down at their bowls, and then they bolted from the table and ran out the back door. A second later, Isa could see them through the window cuddling with Jubilee and Buttercup, two of the larger, friendlier chickens.
Isa saw disappointment flash across Grandma’s face before she moved the bowls that were at Laney’s and Hyacinth’s places to Jessie’s and Isa’s place mats and put soup in bowls for Oliver, Aunt Penny, and Grandpa.
The Vanderbeekers had never eaten duck before, and Isa wasn’t eager to try it. Like Hyacinth, she had loved going to Central Park and watching adorable ducklings follow their parents in the spring.
“Eat,” Grandma said, sitting down at the table and gesturing toward the bowls. Grandpa had already started.
Isa looked down into the soup. The pieces of duck were floating at the top of the soup along with cut green onions. Not a fan of green onions either, she used her spoon to scoop them out and put them on top of her napkin. She looked at her siblings, who seemed similarly reluctant about eating duck. Jessie had put a tiny bit of soup—no duck—in her mouth and looked as if she was deciding whether she could swallow it or needed to spit it out. Even ravenous Oliver, who had no qualms about eating hot dogs or hamburgers or turkey chili, was just stirring and stirring his soup, and Isa suspected that he had no plans to actually try it.
Grandma, noticing their tepid reactions, dropped her spoon on the table, stood, and went to the kitchen to begin cleaning up. She left her own soup unfinished.
“Grandma,” Isa began
, but Grandma just shook her head as she scrubbed the dishes.
“I’ll do those, Grandma,” Isa said, but Grandma ignored her. Isa turned back to her siblings, and silently the Vanderbeekers poured the contents of the bowls back into the pot and loaded the dishwasher. The dishes in the sink done, Grandma took off her apron, hung it on the nail by the refrigerator, and went up the stairs. A moment later, the Vanderbeekers heard the door to their parents’ bedroom close.
Nineteen
Hyacinth felt bad about breakfast, but as she hugged Buttercup to her chest, she knew she couldn’t go back inside the brownstone. Her stomach growled, and Buttercup wiggled in her arms. Hyacinth reluctantly let her favorite hen go, and Buttercup scrambled to a worm poking out of the short grass and pecked at it.
“I can’t believe Grandma eats duck,” Laney repeated for the eighth time. “Duck!”
The back door of the brownstone opened, and Isa stepped out into the yard. She walked over to Laney and Hyacinth and handed them bowls of yogurt with some nuts and dried fruit on top.
“Eat up,” Isa said. “We have to get to Washington Heights.”
“I’m sorry about breakfast,” Hyacinth said.
“I know,” Isa said with a sigh. “Grandma seems pretty upset. She went into the bedroom and hasn’t come out.”
“Did I hurt her feelings?” Laney asked.
“I think we all did,” Isa said. “Come on, eat your yogurt. We should get going.”
Hyacinth and Laney ate the yogurt. It tasted good the way Isa made it, with lots of nuts and fruit and a little drizzle of honey. And while Hyacinth ate, she wondered if Mama really did love that duck and rice soup. It was strange, learning all these new things about her parents.
Finished with their breakfast, Hyacinth and Laney went inside to wash their bowls. Oliver and Jessie were sitting on the couch, waiting for them.
“Where’s Aunt Penny?” Hyacinth asked.
“Mr. Beiderman and Orlando stopped by to see if anyone wanted to go for a run,” Oliver said. “Aunt Penny said she wanted some exercise and would meet us back here for lunch.”
“I didn’t know Aunt Penny liked to run,” Laney said.
“We don’t know a lot about the adults in our lives,” Hyacinth said. “They’re all mysteries.”
“Are we ready to go?” Isa asked, stuffing a bag of trail mix into her backpack. She opened the door, and after everyone had followed her outside, she closed it softly behind them so as not to disturb Grandma and Grandpa.
“I still feel bad about breakfast,” Hyacinth said to Isa as they walked to the number 1 subway station on 145th Street.
“I know,” Isa said. “We’ll talk to her when we get back.”
“Let’s be honest,” Oliver said. “She came here completely unannounced and has spent the majority of her time with us criticizing or complaining. It hasn’t exactly been fun.”
“I’m so glad Papa is coming home tomorrow,” Laney said. “I can’t wait to hug him.”
They went down the steps into the subway station and swiped their cards through the turnstiles. They listened to a man playing the saxophone and dug some spare change out of pockets and backpacks, then dropped the coins into the man’s case. A few minutes later, the subway roared into the station, the big red circle with a block white “1” in the middle on the front.
They needed to ride the train to Dyckman Street, which was a quick ten-minute trip north. When the train emerged on an elevated track, the Vanderbeekers got off the subway and enjoyed the novelty of disembarking outside. Tall trees surrounded the station, and it felt as if they had entered a different world. They went down the metal stairs to the street and walked toward the East River. There was a rocky park filled with huge trees on the right and a wide street to the left. They crossed the street and went north on Tenth Avenue. Right away they saw a red brick school, and next to the school was a dirt path with a sign and a big garden gnome.
“This is it,” Isa said.
Hyacinth loved the peacefulness of the path. On either side, zinnias and dahlias burst open like miniature suns, and flowering vines wrapped around stakes. Large trees stretched skyward on either side, their leaves dappling the sunlight onto the ground and making tiny shards of mica from the path sparkle.
The Vanderbeekers emerged on a joyous scene: A dozen kids in light blue T-shirts that said “Knot Too Shabby Summer Camp” were clustered around the skeleton of a boat propped upside down on a wooden frame.
When the Vanderbeekers appeared, one of the campers saw them and waved. “Want to see our boat?” she asked.
The Vanderbeekers nodded, and the camper gestured them over.
“We’re trying to get this done by next month so we can put it in the water before school starts again!” the girl said. “I’m Selah, by the way. Why do you have red and green dots all over you?” she said, looking at Laney and Oliver.
“Long story,” Oliver said.
The Vanderbeekers introduced themselves, and then all the kids wearing the Knot Too Shabby shirts introduced themselves, and told the Vanderbeekers how they were building a boat, which seemed like a very long and complicated process. Hyacinth could only make out parts of what they were saying, words like “keel” and “laminating boards” and “clamps” and “bevel” and “marine lumber.”
A minute later, a man emerged from the big open garage and approached them. He also wore a Knot Too Shabby T-shirt, but his was yellow.
“What’s going on here?” he said, his voice booming.
The Vanderbeekers turned to look at him, and the man instantly went still.
“I know you,” he said after a few moments of silence.
“We know you too,” Laney said.
“We know of you, she means,” Jessie clarified.
“That is, if you’re the person we’re actually looking for,” Isa said.
“I think you are the person we’re looking for,” Oliver said.
“I think you’re Yardsy Loughty,” Laney announced.
He nodded, his eyes very shiny and bright. “And I think you are the Vanderbeekers.”
* * *
Laney looked at Yardsy, examining his features. He wasn’t as tall as Papa, and he had really wide shoulders like Orlando. He was completely bald, but his eyebrows were very bushy, nearly covering his eyes, and when he smiled, you could look right into them and see a lot of love.
He walked over and looked at Isa and Jessie. “You two have your grandfather’s eyes.”
He looked at Oliver. “You have your grandfather’s hair.”
He looked at Hyacinth. “You have your grandfather’s nose.”
And he looked at Laney. “You, I think, have your grandfather’s spirit.”
“You were Pop-Pop’s best friend,” Laney told him. “And that’s why we’re going to be really good friends.”
Yardsy burst into laughter. “Oh boy, you definitely remind me of your grandfather. He made me laugh like no one else. Now tell me how you found me.”
“We found out about you from Jamal,” Isa told him at the same time Oliver said, “We found this letter that Pop-Pop wrote to our dad,” and Laney said, “We came on a subway and got off at a really tall subway station,” and Jessie said, “We looked up your name on the internet.” Hyacinth wasn’t a fan of talking to people she didn’t know very well, so she said nothing.
Yardsy laughed again. “I need to sit down for this. Come with me into the workshop. I want to hear the whole story.” Yardsy told his campers to keep up the good work and to put some more clamps on the boat, then led the Vanderbeekers to the garage. They stepped inside the workshop, and Laney breathed in the smell of trees and sawdust. There were six more boats in various states of being built.
“I’m working with five groups of middle schoolers this summer,” Yardsy told them as he took a seat on an upside-down crate. “And one of the boats is my personal project.”
Laney looked at the beautiful wood, thinking about the trees it came from and how
it was now going to be something that allowed people to float on the water. It filled her with awe.
“Where did this wood come from?” Laney asked.
“We get donations from lumberyards and some of the bigger boat-making companies,” Yardsy said. “We’ve got some ash, some cedar, and a little bit of oak.”
“I want to learn how to build a boat,” Laney said. “It looks cool.”
“And I would love to help you make one,” Yardsy said. “I am glad you found me. Life is a funny thing. I’ve been thinking about your grandfather a lot these days. He keeps appearing in my mind in the strangest places. Last week, I was on the water early Sunday morning, rowing on the perfect quiet of the East River, and I remembered how he would bring me the best croissant from a bakery near his apartment.”
“That’s Castleman’s Bakery!” Oliver said. “We go there all the time.”
“We’re trying to learn more about him,” Laney told Yardsy. “We found a letter he wrote to our dad right before graduation. He said he was taking Papa on a trip. And we’re trying to figure out where they were going.”
“He said he wanted to go somewhere called Whalers Cove,” Oliver said.
“Ah, I remember your grandfather getting ready for that. He was so excited. He rarely took time off from work, and I was surprised that he wanted to make such a long trip. They were going to leave for a full month.”
“A month at Whalers Cove?” Isa asked.
“And other places,” Yardsy said. “It was a road trip, you know.”
“A road trip!” the Vanderbeekers all exclaimed at once.
“That makes so much sense now!” Isa said. “Ludwig van Beethoven. Ludwig is the name of the van they were going to use, wasn’t it?”
Yardsy smiled. “Yes.”
“Do you know what route he wanted to take?” Jessie asked.
“I know he had a whole itinerary written out,” Yardsy said. “He worked on it during our lunch breaks. It was so long ago, I can’t remember where exactly he wanted to go. He had a very detailed map. If your dad kept some of his things, the map might be there.”
“We could look through that stuff from Grandpa’s old suitcase again,” Oliver said.
The Vanderbeekers Make a Wish Page 12
