Summer of the Gypsy Moths
Page 18
Angel was beside me then. She was grinning.
I waved my hand over the bushes. “What is this?”
“Birds,” she said. “They really like blueberries.”
“You did this?”
Angel beamed harder. “The diner gave me probably fifty bags, I guess, and I got the rest at the pizza place and that restaurant near the beach.”
“Why, Angel? You don’t even like fruit!”
“George’s orders. He’s the boss.” Angel smiled and pointed back to the steps, where George was standing. She waved him over, and then she went back inside.
George put his arm around my shoulder and told me I’d done a good job at the cemetery. “I knew you would, a course.”
We stood there in silence for a minute. I had the feeling George wanted to say something, but maybe he didn’t know how to get started. I wasn’t in any hurry, because I was pretty happy right where I was with George’s arm around me and looking out over all these bushes I had saved. Even though Louise wasn’t out here anymore, I somehow felt she was smiling with me.
After another minute, George pointed to the trunk of the oak beside me. “Look. Gypsy moth,” he said. “That’s the little devil that caused you so much trouble.”
It blended in with the mottled brown bark, but I recognized it from all the research I’d done. “Look at those crazy big antennae,” I said. “Like he’s got to know everything that’s going on.” Then I pointed out a small cream-colored moth, nestled in the crook of a twig. “That’s the female,” I said. “They can’t fly. They’re too heavy. They lay their eggs and then they just crawl around in the same place. That’s it for them.”
Suddenly, I didn’t want to talk about mothers who didn’t go anywhere. “Is everything okay at the cottages?”
“Fine, everything’s fine. It was a little hectic the first week, but Angel’s aunt did a great job.”
I nodded. “So the trial period worked out. Good. And now it will be permanent.”
“Well, actually, no. She’s not staying. Did Angel tell you that?”
I turned to look at George, surprised.
“She says it’s not her destiny.” He spread his hands. “You can’t fight that, now can you? The diner’s expanding. They’re opening a bakery next door, and Maria’s going to run it. There’s an apartment over it. They’ll live there.”
“Oh. So, then, I guess you’ll have to find someone for here next summer.”
My heart started to clench at the thought of a stranger waking up here, walking out to this backyard. Greeting the summer families, visiting with George. All of it. But then I felt it relax. George would find the right person, someone who deserved to be here. And the right person was not my mother.
George shook his head. “It’s time for me to come home,” he said. “I was born here, I think I should end up here. Since my wife died, I’ve been fishing night and day just to avoid being alone in that house in Dennis. I hate being alone. I’m renting the house out to Johnny Baker—those twins are going to be running around pretty soon, and they’ll need the space. I gave him a good deal, and in exchange, he’ll captain the boat for me. I’ll still fish, but only when I want to.”
“On the finest-kind days,” I said.
“That’s right. On the finest-kind days. Otherwise I’ll be here.”
“But you’ll be alone here,” I said.
“Well, I’m hoping not, Stella by Starlight. I’ve got something to ask you.”
George led me over to the picnic table and sat down beside me. “I called your Mrs. Marino, figured she’d know where you and your mom ended up. I wanted your address so I could drop you a note and let you know how things were going at Linger Longer, so you wouldn’t worry. She told me what was going on. As soon as I heard you still needed a place to be and a foster parent, I applied. There were about a hundred forms to fill out, and a hundred tests, but I passed them all. So the only thing left is you. What do you say?”
“Do you mean live here? With you?”
George nodded. “With me and Treb.”
The thing is, I need time to think about things. To think ahead about all the things that could go wrong. “I lied to you,” I said. “About Louise, about her having a boyfriend, about my mother. I even lied about the braided rug that last day.”
“So I learned,” George said. “Which reminds me.” He slid his hand into his suit jacket and pulled out a little silver-framed photo. “They found this, too. I thought you might want it.”
I looked down at my grandmother and Louise, both of them younger than I was now. Louise had her arms around my grandmother. My grandmother had put her arms around me. Both of them had lived right here. Where I might live.
“Aren’t you worried that I’ll keep on lying?” I said—kind of quietly, since I wasn’t sure I wanted George to hear the question.
“I’ll take my chances. I don’t think it’s your nature. You weren’t all that good at it, now that I look back.”
“Well, what about my mother?” I asked. “What if she comes back? What if she gets a place and wants me to go there?”
“Then you’ll go there.”
“Well, what if she wants to visit me here?”
George shrugged. “She might.”
“And then what?”
“And then she’ll visit you here.”
“What if she wants to leave again?”
“Then I guess she’ll leave.”
“And what if she wants me to go with her?”
“Then you might go with her.” George stood up to face me. “I don’t know what will happen. I don’t know. But I can promise you this, Stella: Whatever else happens, you will have a home with me whenever you need one. Fair enough?”
I couldn’t hold back anymore. I jumped up. “Yes! I’ll take care of the cottages, I can cook, I can clean up—” And then I stopped. Suddenly, none of that sounded like what I wanted after all.
“No.” George put his hands up. “No,” he said again. “That’s not how it’s going to be, Stella by Starlight. You’re a child still, and that’s how it’s going to be. The blueberry patch is yours, a course. You earned it. But I’m going to cook and I’m going to manage the cottages, and we’re going to hire a cleaning service for the changeovers. Like Louise said—you need some taking care of, and I think I’m the one who’s supposed to do it. I will make a home for you.” He took a deep breath. Then he asked me, “Well?”
I looked out over the blueberry bushes George had just given me. Louise’s pretty dresses were a little faded now, but they still fluttered like blossoms above them. I could almost see my mother’s little-girl hands helping plant them, and Louise’s rough hands tending them for twenty years. Then my hands, and George’s hands, and finally Angel’s hands, all saving them over and over this summer.
I walked over to the closest bush—a Northern Beauty, perfect for pie—and began to untie the onion bags. I freed branch after branch after branch, each one heavy with ripe fruit.
I crooked my finger at George to call him over.
“Well?” I said, handing him a bag. “These blueberries aren’t going to pick themselves, you know.”
About the Author
SARA PENNYPACKER is the author of the award-winning, New York Times bestselling Clementine chapter-book series as well as the picture books PIERRE IN LOVE and SPARROW GIRL. She lives on Cape Cod, Massachusetts. You can visit her online at www.sarapennypacker.com.
Credits
Jacket art © 2012 by Julia Denos
Jacket design by Sarah Hoy
Copyright
Balzer + Bray is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
SUMMER OF THE GYPSY MOTHS. Copyright © 2012 by Sara Pennypacker. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled,
reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Pennypacker, Sara, date
The summer of the gypsy moths / Sara Pennypacker.—1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: A foster child named Angel and twelve-year-old Stella, who are living with Stella’s great-aunt Louise at a cottage colony on Cape Cod, secretly assume responsibility for the vacation rentals when Louise unexpectedly dies and the girls are afraid of being returned to the foster care system.
ISBN 978-0-06-196420-6 (trade bdg.)
[1. Secrets—Fiction. 2. Loss (Psychology)—Fiction. 3. Great aunts—Fiction. 4. Death—Fiction. 5. Cape Cod (Mass.)—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.P3856Su 2012
[Fic]—dc23
2011026095
CIP
AC
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FIRST EDITION
EPub Edition © FEBRUARY 2012 ISBN: 978-0-06-211451-8
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