“It was a breeze,” said Chris.
“How would you know?” her twin teased. “After all, you slept through at least half of it!”
“Well, at any rate, you two must be famished,” said Mrs. Pratt. “Come on into the dining room and have some hot chocolate. I also baked some of your favorite goodies....”
Laughing, Susan held up the tin of cookies she had brought along. “Well, one thing’s for sure: Even if we get snowed in over the holidays, we don’t have to worry about there being a shortage of Christmas cookies!”
The girls took a quick tour of the first floor of the house while Andy brought their suitcases upstairs to their rooms. Their grandparents had instituted quite a few changes since their last visit almost three years before. There was new apple-green flowered wallpaper in the living room, a friendly room with comfortable chairs and a big soft couch. And there was now a colorful rag rug in the middle of the room, one that the handy Mrs. Pratt had made herself. There were other, smaller changes as well: some new lamps, a fresh coat of paint on the walls, an updated family photograph of the twins and their parents, hung right next to the wooden stairway so that any visitor to the house was sure to see it.
Some things were still the same, however—like the huge stone fireplace that lined one entire wall of the living room. There was a huge fire burning in it this afternoon, but that was not the only welcoming touch. There was also a huge Christmas tree scenting the entire room with a strong pine fragrance that was guaranteed to put even Ebenezer Scrooge into a holiday mood. Pine garlands dotted with candy canes were looped over the mantelpiece, and fresh pine wreaths were hung in every window on the entire first floor.
“It looks as if Christmas is already well under way here!” Susan commented as she and her sister continued with their tour by wandering into the dining room.
That was also an inviting room. In it was a long dining room table covered with a beautiful tablecloth, a patchwork of red and green Christmas fabrics, handmade by Emily Pratt. There were also red candles in the middle of the table along with a big bowl of Christmas candy.
“I’ll say it has!” Chris agreed. “If you and I wanted to have a real old-fashioned Christmas celebration this year, we definitely came to the right place!”
The twins sat down at the table with their grandparents, anxious to chat with them. The four of them had so much to catch up on! The letters and telephone calls of the past year suddenly seemed as if they had been so inadequate ... and Chris and Susan wanted to tell them about a million different things at once. They chattered away about school and their friends and even all the pranks they had been playing lately, all the while enjoying hot chocolate and at least six different varieties of Christmas cookies, all of them of course homemade.
Finally, when all four Pratts were convinced that eating even one more mouthful would simply be impossible, Susan said, “You know, Chris, you and I have been talking away for the past hour a mile a minute. We’ve barely given Grandma and Grandpa a chance to say a word!”
She turned to them and said, “Now we promise to be quiet for a while so you can tell us everything that you’ve been doing!”
Suddenly John and Emily Pratt grew serious. They looked at each other as if they were trying to decide whether or not this was the best time to say what was really on their minds. Chris and Susan noticed their hesitancy immediately—and quickly grew concerned.
“Is ... is everything all right?” asked Susan. “You both look so worried all of a sudden.”
“Well, we’re not really worried ...” said Mrs. Pratt. “I suppose we’re just a little afraid of how you girls will take the news we’ve got to tell you.”
“What news?” the twins asked in unison.
“Oh, it’s not such a terrible thing!” Mr. Pratt insisted in a hearty voice. “Your grandmother and I have simply decided that it’s time for us to move to a warmer climate, that’s all. Buy ourselves a condominium down in Florida, in one of those retirement villages. Start taking things a little bit easier.”
“Move?” Chris blinked. “You two are going to move?”
“But what about the house?” Susan asked.
“We’ll have to sell it,” Mrs. Pratt said softly. “Certainly we feel bad about that....”
“Sell your house!” Chris squealed. “You can’t do that! Why, you two have lived up here in this house ever since ... well, even before Dad was born!”
“Besides, you can’t move to a retirement village!” Susan insisted. “You’re too young!”
Mr. and Mrs. Pratt chuckled.
“I’m afraid we’re anything but young,” said Mr. Pratt. No, Emily and I have decided that it’s just time, that’s all.”
“But you’re still young at heart,” Susan insisted.
“Oh, pooh,” scoffed Emily Pratt. “John and I are getting so old that we’re not much good for anything anymore. Your grandfather and I are just two old-timers.”
“That’s nonsense, Grandma and Grandpa!” Chris protested. “Besides, I thought you loved this town. You know practically everyone who lives here, you know every single tree and hill, you’re both so busy with your lives here ... why, the town of Ridgewood is part of you!”
“It’s true, it will be a big adjustment.” Emily Pratt sighed. “But your grandfather is right, it is time. And we’ll manage to make new friends once we get down there.
“Besides, don’t forget that owning a house is a lot of work. Things will be much simpler for us in a condominium. We’ll have more time for the things we enjoy but just don’t seem to be able to find the time for. Like my sewing. There are so many craft projects I’ve been longing to work on but just never get around to, what with all the work involved in keeping this place running....”
“Have you told Mom and Dad about this yet?” Susan asked. Chris knew immediately what her sister was thinking; if they couldn’t talk their grandparents out of this crazy idea of selling their house, the place they loved most in the whole world, maybe their parents could.
“No, we haven’t,” Mrs. Pratt said, shaking her head. “We decided to wait until after Christmas. We didn’t want to upset them right before their second honeymoon. But we will as soon as they get back.
“Now enough about this! Why don’t you two scoot up to your rooms and take a look around? We’ve made some changes up there, too. I’ve given you the two attic rooms, the ones with the sloping walls and all the alcoves. They were always your favorites when you were little girls. I’ve redecorated them both, and I’m anxious to see how you like them....”
It was with heavy hearts that Susan and Chris trudged up the two flights of stairs, up to the two bedrooms that, indeed, had always been their favorite rooms at their grandparents’ house. They brightened a bit when they saw them, however. Susan’s had been covered with pale blue wallpaper sprigged with tiny white flowers—the exact same print as her favorite flannel nightgown, which she had brought along for snuggling under a fluffy down quilt during the cold Vermont nights. There was a blue-and-white-patchwork bedspread and a blue rag rug, both of them handmade by her grandmother. Chris’s room was identical—except that the wallpaper and everything else was a pale yellow.
Chris plopped her suitcase down on the bed and halfheartedly began to unpack. Across the hallway, she could hear her sister doing the same thing—with just as much reluctance. It didn’t take her long to abandon her project and stroll into her sister’s bedroom.
“Suddenly all my Christmas spirit has gone out the window,” she complained. “I can’t believe that Grandma and Grandpa are planning to sell this place!”
“I know,” Susan agreed, sitting down on the bed, her shoulders sagging. “They’re too young to move to a retirement village. Too energetic. Besides, they love this place! It’s their home!”
The girls were quiet for a minute.
And then Susan said, “You know, I wonder if there’s anything we can do to change their minds.”
“Do you really think we cou
ld, Sooz?”
“Well ... I’m not sure, exactly. But we do have a few things in our favor. For one, Grandma and Grandpa must be experiencing a few of their own doubts. Otherwise they wouldn’t have waited until after Mom and Dad’s vacation before telling them.”
Chris brightened. “That’s true! What did Grandma say? That she didn’t want to upset them? That means they might realize, deep in their hearts, that maybe it’s not such a good idea after all.”
“Right. And here’s something else in our favor. We’re here. We have a whole week, from now until Christmas, to change their minds.”
“Of course! And there’s one more thing. ...”
Susan looked puzzled. “What’s that, Chris?”
“You and I happen to be experts when it comes to thinking up clever little schemes. Surely you and I can come up with some way of convincing Grandma and Grandpa that they’re still young at heart!”
Susan nodded, “You’ve got a point there. If anyone can do it, Chris, we can.” She thought for a minute. “As a matter of fact, we could start thinking of that as our goal for the next few days. Oh, sure, we’ve been planning on wrapping Christmas presents and singing carols and going for sleigh rides, but this is something that’s really crucial. And I bet if we put our heads together, we could come up with something....”
“I’ll bet we could, too,” Chris said. But she sounded anything but optimistic. At the moment she couldn’t come up with a single idea. And suddenly it seemed as if it were really important that she and her sister do something. More important than their vacation, more important than having a good time ... more important, even, than Christmas itself.
“Yes, I’m not at all worried,” she said, trying to convince herself that that was true. “Maybe I can’t think of anything right now, but I’ll bet you anything that sooner or later one of us will!”
But as she wandered over to her bedroom window and looked out at the quaint snowy town of Ridgewood down below, she was wishing she could make a telephone call to Santa Claus. And she knew exactly what she would ask him for: a surefire way of convincing John and Emily Pratt that the best thing for them to do was forget all about this silly notion of selling their beloved house and moving to a condominium in a retirement village!
Chapter Three
By the next morning Chris and Susan had pushed aside all their dismay over their grandparents’ announcement that they planned to sell their house and move south. They were too excited about their first full day in Vermont—and too busy making plans.
“Ooh, just look at all that gorgeous snow!” Chris cried, leaning out the open window in her bedroom as far as she could without falling. “If I don’t get outside within the next thirty seconds, I’m going to scream!”
It was late Sunday morning, and she and her twin had just finished a big breakfast in the pleasant dining room: a huge stack of light, fluffy pancakes topped with butter and, of course, hot Vermont maple syrup. But instead of feeling weighed down by all the food she’d just eaten, Chris was raring to go. In fact, she was getting ready to go ice-skating on the big pond right down the road, putting a down vest over the blue and white ski sweater she was already wearing with a pair of blue corduroy pants.
“Are you sure you’re going to be warm enough?” Susan asked doubtfully. She was in her bedroom, right across the hall, getting dressed to go outside herself. She, however, was bundling up in two sweaters, a coat, a muffler, earmuffs, and the thickest wool mittens she had.
Chris turned to look at her twin—and then burst out laughing.
“Susan Pratt! You look like a snowman with all those clothes on!”
“Well ... it’s cold out there! After all, this is Vermont! And what about you? You’re going to freeze out there!”
Chris shook her head. “Not me. Once I get out on that ice, whirling and twirling all over the place, I’ll be as warm as toast.” She picked up her ice skates and headed for the door. “Besides,” she added with a twinkle in her brown eyes, “you seem to be forgetting that one of the best parts of ice-skating is drinking hot chocolate in front of a roaring fire right afterward!”
As she hurried down the stairs, more anxious than ever to feel the smooth ice speeding by underneath the blades of her skates and the brisk wind on her cheeks, Chris called over her shoulder, “Good luck with your Christmas shopping, Sooz! I bet you’ll find the perfect gift for everyone on your list before you know it!”
Susan was much less optimistic than her sister. While she was looking forward to spending the afternoon browsing in Ridgewood’s shops, she had yet to come up with any really good ideas for Christmas presents. And this year, especially, she wanted to get something special for Chris and her grandparents.
“Oh, well,” she said aloud. “Maybe I’ll get some ideas once I’m actually in those cute little shops.”
She checked her appearance in the mirror over her dresser ... and she couldn’t help giggling. Chris was right, she did look like a snowman! Susan took off one of her two sweaters. She was about to leave her red woolen scarf behind as well but at the last minute decided to wear it, just in case it turned out to be windier than she expected.
The town of Ridgewood was very much the way she remembered it. There were only a few stores in the center in the town, lining the village green—which today was anything but green. As a matter of fact, it was covered in pure white snow, smooth and untouched and glistening in the bright December sun.
That is, all except for one corner, right near the church that sat at one edge of the green. There the snow had obviously been tromped through, rolled in—and used to build the biggest snowman that Susan had ever seen. It was almost finished, and it stood well over seven feet tall, she estimated. It had thick branches for arms, with the tiny branches at the very end forming fingers.
And its face was the friendliest snowman face she had ever seen. Its eyes, made of black squares of coal, seemed to twinkle in the sunlight, and its coal mouth turned upward in a huge mischievous grin. It had a carrot nose and a funny black hat, which the two people who were making this wonderful snow creation were putting on top of its head. A young man was holding a little boy, his building partner, on his shoulders. The boy was laughing loudly as he reached over and, with great ceremony, placed the hat on top of the snowman’s head.
Susan wasn’t in any real hurry, and she couldn’t resist strolling over to the edge of the village green to get a better look at the snowman. As she got closer, she saw that the older boy looked as if he were about her age. The younger boy was probably about seven or eight. She noticed that he had a cast on one arm, as if it had been sprained or broken.
As soon as the two boys spotted her, they broke into proud grins that were almost as big as the snowman’s.
“Hello, there!” called the older boy. “What do you think of our big snowy friend here?”
“He’s fantastic!” Susan replied shyly. “Does he have a name?”
“Sure!” said the little boy, turning to his friend. “His name is Brian Barker—just like yours!”
Brian the human laughed. “Okay, Danny. If you want to call him Brian Barker, then Brian Barker it is!”
Susan could see that these two boys meant a great deal to each other. She wondered if they were brothers. Close up, however, they looked very different. Brian had blond hair and blue eyes, while Danny had dark brown hair and hazel eyes. Perhaps they were just friends....
“You know, this snowman of yours really needs something,” Susan said, cocking her head and examining it carefully.
Brian and Danny looked disappointed. “Really? What have we forgotten?”
Susan walked up to Brian the snowman, took off her red wool muffler, and tied it around his neck.
“There!” she said, standing back to study the effect. “Now he’s perfect!”
Danny chortled gleefully. “Oh, thank you! You’re right, that’s exactly what he needed!” He paused, then turned to face her. “You’re so nice, giving our snowman your s
carf and all, and I don’t even know who you are. Do you live in Ridgewood?”
“No, I’m just visiting. My name is Susan Pratt, and my grandparents, John and Emily Pratt, live here in town. My sister and I are spending the Christmas holidays with them this year.”
“Gee, that sounds great,” Danny said wistfully. “Being able to spend Christmas with your family, I mean.”
What an odd thing to say! Susan thought. Aloud, she said, “Maybe you’d like to come visit me there sometime this week and meet my family. I have a sister, and there’s my grandparents, of course. And maybe you’d like to see the wonderful Christmas tree in the living room....”
“Wow! Really? You really mean it?” Danny looked as if she had just promised him a visit to Santa Claus’s home in the North Pole itself.
“I’m looking forward to it, Danny!”
“I hope that invitation is being extended to me as well,” Brian said teasingly. “I always enjoy visiting people during the Christmas holidays.”
“Well, then, you’ll both have to come. We can have tea—and all the homemade Christmas cookies you can eat! Both my grandmother and I love to bake.”
“Oh, boy!” cried Danny. “A Christmas tree, homemade cookies ... This might turn out to be a real Christmas after all!”
Susan looked at him, even more surprised than before. She was on the verge of asking him why on earth this wouldn’t be a real Christmas, then decided against it.
“I have some shopping to do right now,” she said, “but I’ll tell you what. You two can feel free to stop over any time you please. That address is Thirty-three Ridgewood Street. I’ll be around.”
“Okay!” said Danny, now wearing a grin that was easily even bigger than the snowman’s. “Brian and I will see you soon!”
Susan was still feeling a bit puzzled as she strolled back to Ridgewood’s string of stores. She was wondering if Brian and Danny were brothers or friends, how they came to know each other if they were just friends, how Danny had broken his arm ... and, most of all, what he had meant when he made that peculiar comment about Christmas. But she quickly forgot all about the mysterious twosome as she began to browse in Ridgewood’s intriguing shops.
The Candy Cane Caper Page 2
