The Great Peach Experiment 1

by Erin Soderberg Downing

  “Beach time!” Herb screamed, tugging his swimsuit up over his buns as he raced into the living room.

  Lucy began to load up a bag with sunscreen and snacks, but her dad gently set his hand on her arm. “I’m on it,” he told her. She started to protest, then saw that her dad already had a bag filled with sunscreen, water bottles, a container of pretzels, and a few issues of his favorite journals: Nature and the very-boring-sounding Earth and Planetary Science Letters. He squeezed her shoulder. “I hope you know that I know how lucky Herb and Freddy are to have you for a sister. And I’m lucky you’re my daughter. You’ve really stepped up and grown up these past few years, Lucy. I know it hasn’t been easy, and I appreciate it.”

  She nodded. Until Dad said it, she hadn’t realized that was just what she needed to hear. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you,” Dad said with a smile. Then he called out, “Ready when you are, Herb-o. Freddy, you all set?”

  Freddy hollered, “Coming!”

  “Ocean, here we come!” whooped Herb.

  Dear Great Aunt Lucinda,

  Guess what?! Dad went totally crazy and abandoned ship (truck?)—but in a good way! We bailed on the next week of pie selling and set off on an epic family road trip to the BEACH instead. We’ve been boogie boarding and playing in the sand and reading in big chairs on our very own deck that overlooks the ocean! I can’t believe I’m saying this, but now I wish there was more time left in the Great Peach Experiment, because I’m having SO MUCH FUN!!!

  See you soon!

  Lucy

  (Give the dogs a big hug and an extra slice of bacon for me!)

  24

  CHANGE IN PLANS

  On Monday morning, Freddy woke up early. He had left his window open, just a crack, the night before so he could hear ocean waves all night long. He was afraid if he couldn’t hear it, none of this would turn out to be real. He lay in bed for a few long moments, listening to the gulls outside and thinking about some of the best parts of the past two days.

  Kure Beach was amazing: wide and soft, and the waves were perfect—not too big, not too small. During their first afternoon at the beach, as the tide went out, all four Peaches had worked together to build a sandcastle village with a moat and towers that Herb had declared “the best sandcastle on earth.” Then Freddy had spotted a pod of dolphins swimming by, right off shore by their house! Early Saturday evening, Dad had wandered down the road to a surf store and bought a few boogie boards. Then they spent all day Sunday trying to catch waves—as it turned out, boogie boarding was another thing Freddy excelled at. Maybe he didn’t have math mastered, but at least he had a few solid backup plans. After they’d gotten tired of riding waves, they had built more sandcastles and played soccer on the beach. It had been one of the best weekends of Freddy’s life.

  After a bit of discussion during dinner the night before, the Peaches had all agreed they should spend the rest of the week doing a whole lot of nothing at the beach, and then they would head back to Ohio—rested and relaxed—in time for the Food Truck Festival. Freddy had been the one to propose this plan, and the others had been more than willing to go along with his idea. Freddy was excited they’d still get the chance to compete and try to succeed, but they’d also get some much-needed time together to practice being a new kind of family first. This plan brought together the best of both worlds.

  Now, eager to get a start on another day of relaxing, Freddy padded down the hall of their rental house in his bare feet, heading toward the kitchen. He could hear his dad talking quietly on the phone. As he neared the big archway leading into the main dining area, he heard Dad say, “I can come back and figure it out. Just hold tight, and I’ll be there as soon as possible.” There was a short pause, then Dad went on, “There’s a flight back to Minneapolis at four. If we hurry, I can catch it.”

  Freddy stopped short. He didn’t like to eavesdrop, but his feet simply wouldn’t move. He didn’t know what he was hearing, but he knew he didn’t like it. When he finally willed his legs to move, Freddy stepped through the archway into the kitchen and stared accusingly at Dad, who was staring down at his phone. “We’re leaving?” he asked.

  Lucy stumbled into the kitchen behind him, rubbing her eyes. “Who’s leaving?”

  “I got a call early this morning,” Dad said. “They’ve found a massive error in some of our lab data, and a few of my graduate students need me to help them sort things out for an article that’s due this week.”

  “Why do you need to go now?” Lucy asked. “Don’t you study soil that’s, like, thousands of years old? What’s the big rush? You’re supposed to be on sabbatical. You’re taking a break from work, remember?”

  “One of my colleagues is already at the lab, trying to weed through the data. Honestly, I don’t know if there’s much I can do,” Dad said. “But I feel like I have to try. If I don’t go back, the whole project will fall apart.” He sighed. “This is everything I’ve been working toward for the past two years, Lucy. It’s important.”

  Lucy muttered, “Obviously.”

  “And you have to leave now?” Freddy asked. His throat felt thick, the way it sometimes did when he was getting sick. “Can’t we go back after the Ohio Food Truck Festival, at least?” He whispered, “This is important, too, right? We were going to spend the week hanging out together, and then finish with a bang selling a lot of pies. You promised we wouldn’t just give up. Trust me, Dad, we could win the Food Truck Festival, and then—”

  “They need me,” Dad said, cutting him off.

  “But we need you, too,” Lucy said. Freddy had never, ever heard his sister say something like that. The look on Lucy’s face made him feel even worse than he already did.

  Dad sighed. “Look, we can figure out some way to get the food truck back to Ohio in time for the festival. Then we can fly down from Minneapolis and meet up with it there, if it’s that important to you.”

  “It’s not just the festival,” Freddy said, shaking his head. But it was clear Dad wasn’t planning to change his mind. He just didn’t get it.

  Lucy muttered, “I was stupid to ever let anyone get their hopes up.” Then, with a huff, she turned and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving Freddy alone with Dad.

  Freddy knew there was very little chance of Dad earning Lucy’s forgiveness or trust—ever—if he chose to bail on them now. “Dad,” Freddy said, trying to keep his tone even, “are you sure there isn’t anyone else who can take care of this? You have a whole team that works with you at the university, and I just wonder if—”

  Dad shook his head. “I need to be there. This is important.”

  “I know it is,” Freddy said patiently. “I get that work is really important to you, and I think that’s cool. I hope I love my job that much someday, too.” He paused, trying to figure out how he could get Dad to change his mind. How he could convince him to pick them instead of work. How he could get him to see that they were important, too.

  But in this moment, Dad was acting a lot like Lucy had at home for the past few years—trying to be the one who fixed everything, instead of trusting others to help when it made more sense. “This past month,” Freddy began slowly, “our food truck has been the most successful when we all worked together, focusing on the stuff we’re each best at, right? I’m great at customer service, Herb always has a positive attitude and handles the math, Lucy makes the best pies—”

  Dad cut him off, glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall. “What’s your point, Freddy?” He sighed. “I obviously don’t have much of a choice here.”

  Freddy crossed his arms. “My point is, you’re the one who told us the Great Peach Experiment was a family project. The goal of this summer was to experiment with something big, something Mom would have been proud to be a part of. You also told us, many times over the past few weeks, that we’d never succeed if we didn’t all do our part.” He shrugged. “You do have a c
hoice, Dad. And I think you’re making the wrong one. Ever since Mom died, you’ve always made the wrong decisions when it comes to us. But a few days ago, when we left Ohio, we all thought things were finally going to be different.”

  “I don’t think you get it,” Dad said. “This is the real world, Freddy. It’s my life.”

  “So are we.” Freddy shrugged. He’d made his point. Though he didn’t want to, he knew when there was no other option but to give up and move on. So he turned and plodded back down the hall to Lucy’s bedroom.

  Propped up against the pillows in her big, cozy bed, Lucy opened her arms and drew Freddy in beside her. A few minutes later, Herb joined them, and together, the three of them watched out the window as clusters of white, fluffy clouds gathered in the sky over the glittering, sapphire-blue ocean.

  Freddy snuggled in with his siblings, thinking about how lucky it was that at least they had each other.

  * * *

  A few hours later, Dad came into Lucy’s room, carrying a tray filled with glasses of lemonade and a bowl full of berries. Freddy and his siblings had done nothing to get ready to leave, and Dad hadn’t asked them to. Freddy knew they would need to head to the airport very soon if they had any hope of making a four o’clock flight back to Minneapolis. “Hungry?” Dad asked, offering them all a small smile.

  Lucy set down their tattered copy of The Penderwicks. They’d finally reached the last chapter, and Herb squirmed to show his frustration at having to put the book down.

  Dad set the tray on the edge of the bed and settled in beside it. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “For what?” Freddy asked.

  “For even considering leaving, earlier this morning,” Dad said. “For that, and for everything I’ve put you kids through the past few years. I’ve done a lot of thinking this morning, and I realize I owe you all a major apology.”

  Lucy folded the corner of the page and closed the book, refusing to look at their dad. She didn’t say anything, but Freddy could tell she was listening.

  “Lucy,” Dad began, “you’ve been picking up my slack for far too long, and it’s obvious that I have a lot to learn from you. I’m working on it. But I’m going to need your help figuring things out.” He ran a hand through his thinning hair. “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done to step up and help manage this household the past couple years. Now, will you help me help you?”

  Lucy nodded solemnly. “I’ll try.”

  “That’s all I ask,” Dad said with a smile. “That’s what I’m doing, too. I’m not always going to be perfect, but I promise to try to do my best.”

  Dad put his hand on Freddy’s bare knee. “Freddy, I know how hard you’ve been working all summer to try to make sure this crazy, harebrained experiment of ours will succeed. You’re so much like your mom, and it’s been really exciting to watch you blossom, doing something you’re obviously very skilled at. It’s fun to see you in your element.”

  Freddy giggled and coughed at the same time. He couldn’t help it. What his Dad had said was so nice, and it felt wonderful to get a compliment like that, but it was also so goofy. So a whole bunch of feelings just sort of bubbled up and out of him.

  “I’m sorry I was prepared to walk out on this time together that matters so much to everyone,” Dad said. “I want to make sure you all know that our family matters to me, too. More than anything. The past few weeks have been very special to me, and I don’t want any of you to think otherwise. I know I don’t always get my priorities straight, but I’m trying to fix that.”

  Next, Dad smoothed Herb’s hair and said, “And you, Herbie: you’ve surprised me with how patient and optimistic and helpful you’ve been all summer. You took such good care of those mice, and you’ve proven time and again what a mature and capable kid you’ve become.” Herb thrust out his chin proudly as Dad went on, “I’m sorry I haven’t given you more chances to be an active part of this family. It’s just hard for me to remember, sometimes, how big you’ve gotten.”

  “I wear a size three shoe now,” Herb said in response. Then he plucked a berry out of the bowl and took a tiny sip of lemonade out of one of the tall glasses.

  Dad laughed. “Good to know.”

  “So…,” Freddy said, scrunching his lips together, “you’re staying?”

  “I’m staying,” Dad said.

  “And you won’t get fired or anything, because you’re not going back to work?” Freddy clarified.

  “I definitely won’t get fired,” Dad said, chuckling. “In fact, I think it’s good for me to start to set some clear boundaries. My colleagues need to understand that my family comes first. Always.”

  “So we don’t have to pack up and leave yet?” Freddy said, lifting his eyebrows.

  “Not until we’re good and ready,” Dad said.

  “Great. Now, while I have your attention,” Freddy said, deciding that this was as good a time as any to bring up his latest idea. “I was thinking: if we do win the Ohio Food Truck Festival, what do you think about us splitting the winnings four ways? Even Steven—twenty-five hundred bucks a piece. So we can each decide what we want to do with our share.”

  Dad scratched his head and considered the question. “That seems fair.”

  “Then we’d better start doing some serious business planning,” Freddy said. “Because we’re gonna win.”

  From the Sketchbook of Freddy Peach:

  HOW TO SPEND A MILLION DOLLARS

  With a million bucks, I would buy a giant yacht and sail around the world with my family and friends. I’d even be okay with a houseboat that’s just anchored somewhere breezy, like Kure Beach, in this amazing green-blue ocean water. Actually, I’d be happy spending my million on exactly THIS, the adventure Dad took us on this week!

  25

  OPERATION HERBIE PEACH!

  The first morning of the Food Truck Festival dawned clear and perfectly warm. The sky over Delaware, Ohio’s old-fashioned main street was bright blue, the exact color of Herb’s lucky marble (one of 227 marbles in his entire collection). The pink-and-yellow clouds stretching across the sky looked like gentle twists of cotton candy.

  Less than an hour into the festival, Herb was already having a blast. He had been given a very important job for the weekend: he was now the official Peach Pie Truck mascot! For the next few days, his job was to wander up and down Delaware’s main street—which looked like the movie set of a small town!—drawing attention to himself and his family’s pie while dressed as a giant peach. Though the inflatable costume was hot, and it made his neck itch, Herb felt proud to be such an important part of the family business.

  “You’re cute and you’re friendly,” Freddy had explained when he presented the idea. “Who can say no to an adorable little kid dressed like peach?”

  Though he didn’t particularly like being called little, Herb quickly agreed to this plan. He was happy to do anything that would help his family succeed. Lucy did some investigating on Dad’s phone and found a year-round Halloween shop in Columbus that was able to special-order a kid-sized inflatable peach costume.

  Herb loved all the attention he got while he was dressed as a peach. Usually, he did not like when adults called him cute. But this was different. His head stuck out of a big, round, bright orange peach—and he knew he looked both silly and, yes, undoubtedly cute. “Well, aren’t you just a peach?” one lady said, pulling out her cell phone to snap a picture of him. “Which truck are you from, sweetie?”

  “We make world-famous pies at the Peach Pie Truck!” Herb said, just like Freddy had coached him to do. Then, in a lower voice, he whispered, “Make sure you ask for an order of Herb’s Cinnaballs on the side…. They’re the yummiest.”

  Herb pranced up and down the sidewalks, smiling and waving and pointing people in the direction of the Peach Pie Truck. He held up a sign he’d made the night before, announcing their pie flavors (turtl
e pie was Herb’s personal favorite, because it sounded more like a pet than pie):

  Great Aunt Lucinda’s Peach Pie

  Apple Crumb Pie

  Turtle Pie

  World’s Best Key Lime Pie

  Key lime was a risky new addition to their menu. None of them had made this type of pie before, but the Peaches decided to include it in their festival menu after they went to a restaurant in Kure Beach whose sign boasted the “World’s Best Key Lime Pie.”

  “I doubt that claim is true,” Freddy had scoffed when he saw the sign. “They obviously haven’t tried any of our pies yet.” But after tasting it, each of them agreed that it was, quite possibly, one of the yummiest things any of them had ever eaten. Even Herb, and he had started to actively hate pie. So before leaving North Carolina, the Peach family stopped to have lunch at that restaurant, and Freddy sweet-talked the chef into giving their family a lesson on how to make his “world’s best” pie.

  The filling was made using a fairly simple recipe. But even better, the pie called for a graham-cracker crust, which was made by angrily smashing graham crackers into tiny bits, then blending them with butter and pounding the whole mess into the bottom of a pan. This crust was so much easier to make than regular piecrusts, with all that fancy rolling and flopping and blind baking. Finally, Herb had found one type of crust even he could help make!

  Heading into the festival, the Peaches had also made a few other changes. In order to have more space to spread out and bake lots of pies, Dad had rented space in something called a commissary kitchen. Herb learned that this was a special type of building that food trucks and catering companies could use when they needed extra space. Apparently, most food trucks used commissary kitchens for food prep—these giant, shared kitchens made cooking a whole lot easier—but Dad had decided to work most of the summer out of their tiny food truck to keep costs low.