“How did it go?” asked Susan, smoothing her hair and tugging at her dress. “I take it it’s my turn again.”
Chris nodded. “Felicia arranged for the queen to sit with Charles Applegate during dinner. So I guess you’re the one who gets to eat all that lovely food.”
“I’ll try to slip some into my pocket. You can eat it later.”
“Thanks for the thought. That’s fine for biscuits or cookies, but why don’t you finish off the mashed potatoes by yourself?”
“Well, I’m starved. And it’ll be fun to talk to Charles again. He’s such a nice man.”
“Have fun, Sooz. Think of me during dessert.”
Susan had just headed out the door when Chris suddenly shrieked, “Susan! The jewelry!” She came running out into the hallway, pulling off her bracelet and unfastening her earrings. She was so busy trying to take them off quickly that she wasn’t quite looking where she was going, and she bumped into her sister, nearly knocking her over.
“Chris! Watch where you’re . . .”
The two girls suddenly froze. Almost involuntarily their eyes drifted toward the top of the stairway.
Standing there watching in amazement was a small group of people. Mayor Harris was in front, as if he were the leader of the little party. On one side was Edna Partridge; on the other, Charles Applegate. Eric was there, too, watching from over the mayor’s shoulder, a look of horror on his face.
And behind them all was Felicia, smiling so smugly that she looked like the proverbial cat who’s just swallowed the canary.
“Well, well, well,” boomed Mayor Harris, thrusting his hands into his pockets. “I do believe I’m seeing double!”
Chapter Sixteen
The next few minutes seemed to last an eternity. Chris and Susan stood frozen, just staring at the group at the head of the stairs. When they finally looked at each other, their eyes were wide open. The expressions on their faces said exactly the same thing.
We’ve been caught!
And then, all of a sudden, the mayor burst out laughing.
“I guess I’m not seeing double!” he said. “If I’m not mistaken, I’d say there really are two of you! Well, I’ll be!”
The twins looked back at him, unable to believe what was happening. Their fear turned to puzzlement. And when Edna and Charles and Eric all joined in with loud guffaws, they were totally astonished.
Felicia, too, was surprised by their reaction.
“What is everyone laughing about, for heaven’s sake? Don’t you realize that there are two Christine Pratts?”
“That’s quite obvious, I’d say,” said Charles Applegate. “I can tell that even without my glasses.”
His refusal to share her anger only made her even more frustrated. “But don’t you see what they’ve been doing? Not just tonight, either. All week! These two girls have been taking turns being the queen of Centennial Week, and no one’s even suspected what was going on! Except for me, of course,” she added meekly.
But nobody was listening. They were still too busy laughing.
Finally Felicia stamped her foot and said loudly, “Will someone tell me what’s so funny?”
Susan cleared her throat nervously, then spoke for the first time. “I’m with Felicia on this. I have no idea what’s going on. Would somebody please tell me why everyone’s laughing so hard?”
“It’s like this,” Eric began, stepping forward. “It’s a little-known fact that ...”
“Wait!” Mayor Harris interrupted. “Don’t tell them. Not yet. We don’t want to spoil their surprise. After all,” he added with a wink, “these twins are obviously fond of surprises and practical jokes and things like that.”
“Yes, I guess you’re right.” Eric grinned. “They’ll just have to wait.”
“Until when?” Chris and Susan asked in unison.
“Just until tomorrow,” said Mayor Harris. “Then you’ll find out everything. As for right now, we’d better get down to dinner. If I’m late, the caterer will have my head!”
The others started downstairs, still enjoying the joke, and the twins and Eric joined them. Felicia was not far behind.
“I don’t think I should have to wait, Eric.” She pouted. “After all, I’m the one who found out about their scheme. And I’m the one who exposed them. If I hadn’t insisted that my father and the others come upstairs immediately ...”
“Come on, Felicia,” said Eric, slapping her on the back. “Be a good sport. For once in your life, why don’t you try just rolling with the punches?”
He turned his back on her then, putting one arm around Susan and one around Chris. The burning glare she cast in his direction was wasted on him.
“Now may I have the honor of escorting you two queens down to dinner?”
Suddenly Chris’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You don’t seemed very surprised by all this, Eric.”
“To be perfectly honest, I’m not.”
“You mean you knew!” Susan cried. “Then it’s going to be in your article! Have you been planning to expose us all along?”
“Relax. Trust me on this one. I guarantee that after tomorrow, everything will make perfect sense. And you two will be none the worse off for having it all come out.”
“I don’t know about that,” Susan sighed.
“I think Eric’s right,” Chris said. “He seems like a guy who knows what he’s doing. Why don’t we just try to enjoy the rest of the evening and worry about the consequences tomorrow? Especially since he keeps insisting that there won’t be any negative ones!”
Felicia chimed in. “Well, I, for one, have no idea why no one is in the least bit shocked by your attempt to fool everyone in the town of Whittington.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Felicia,” Chris said dryly. “By the way, how did you ever figure out what we were doing?”
“I just happen to be a very sensitive, perceptive individual....”
“Who has absolutely no qualms about listening in on other people’s telephone calls.” Eric was only too happy to finish her sentence for her.
“What telephone conversation? I don’t remember, ...” Susan thought hard, but her face remained blank. ...
“I know,” said Chris. “It must have been on Tuesday, your first day as queen. You called to say you needed a ride home, and I answered the phone. We started talking about the Hot Fudge Sunday Affair....”
“The what?” both Felicia and Eric exclaimed.
Susan blushed. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little code name Chris and I came up with. That’s what we’ve been calling our plan to take turns being queen of Centennial Week.”
Eric laughed, “Funny, I’ve been agonizing over a headline for my feature article all week. I think you girls finally helped me come up with something.”
Jeff came rushing over then, his face flushed. “Chris! Susan! What are you both doing here together! I thought ...”
“The jig is up,” Felicia said sourly. “They’ve been found out, thanks to me. And the worst part is no one cares!”
“Oh, we care, all right,” Eric corrected her. “It’s just that ... well, you’ll all find out tomorrow. Hey, we’d better sit down. I think the mayor is about to make a toast.”
They quickly found their seats. An extra place had been set right next to Chris’s, and Susan had a feeling it was meant for her. As she and her twin plopped into their chairs, they heard Mayor Harris say, “And Whittington had an extra treat. As you all know, we chose an honorary king and queen to preside over the Centennial Week festivities. But instead of just one queen, we’ve been lucky enough to have two! Stand up, girls. I’m proud to introduce Christine and Susan Pratt!”
Chris and Susan exchanged glances as they stood up amid a loud burst of applause and cheers. Once again they were thinking the exact same thing, feeling the same way Although they still didn’t understand the hows and whys, this evening was easily turning out to be the best one of their entire lives.
Chapter Seventeen
“What was your favorite part of last night?” Susan asked dreamily. “The lights? The music? The dancing? The colored lanterns?”
“I think my favorite part was when Mayor Harris discovered that there were two of us ... and didn’t blow a fuse!”
“Oh, Chris! You’re getting so practical! Why, you’re almost beginning to sound like me!”
It was late Sunday morning, and the two girls were strolling over to the park for the unveiling and dedication of Whittington’s new monument. For the occasion Susan was wearing the new dress she liked so much, the pink-and-lavender one with the draped scarf at the neck. Chris wore the other new dress, the blue flowered sundress. They looked so different—so much like themselves—that people passing them on the street, also making their way toward the park, never even noticed that the two of them were identical twins.
“So how do you feel now that Centennial Week is almost over?” asked Susan.
“A little bit sad. After all, it was lots of fun, don’t you think?”
“Oh, definitely. But,” she added with a rueful grin, “I’m a bit relieved at the same time. Life is much more relaxing when all I have to worry about is being me. Spending half the time being you is not always so easy, you know!”
“So I understand!” Chris laughed. “But you don’t have any regrets, do you?”
“Are you kidding? I still think the Hot Fudge Sunday Affair was one of the Pratt twins’ crowning achievements!”
“Well, I can’t wait to find out if Eric Caulfield agrees. Let’s pick up a copy of the Sunday paper right after the ceremony.”
“I’m afraid to look,” Susan groaned.
“Relax. Eric said not to worry, remember?
Besides,” she added, her brown eyes twinkling,
“you do happen to have an in with the Herald’s star reporter.”
“I doubt that’ll make much difference. But we’ll find out soon enough. By the time the dedication is over and we’re off to the big barbecue, we’11 know how it all turns out.”
The park was already crowded. Everyone in Whittington, it seemed, was anxious to see the new statue, then go to the picnic that was the final event of Centennial Week. Susan found a place in front, while Chris hurried up to the wooden platform that had been set up especially for the occasion. Next to it was a massive statue draped in white fabric.
Jeff was already there. His face lit up when he spotted her.
“Hey, Chris! I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show up! After last night, I was afraid you might chicken out!”
“Me? Never! One thing about us Pratts: once we start something, nothing can stop us from seeing it through.” She sat down next to him. “By the way, have you seen this morning’s Herald yet?”
“Nope. I decided to wait until after the ceremony. Then if it turns out badly, I can go drown my sorrows in hot dogs and root beer.”
“What are you worried about? You’re not the one who’s been playing tricks on the residents of Whittington.”
“Well, no, but .... Let’s just say I’ve got a special interest in how the article portrays my queen.”
When the mayor appeared on the platform, a hush instantly fell over the crowd. He nodded to Chris as well as Jeff and the handful of others who we’re seated near them. She couldn’t be certain, but she thought the look he gave her was particularly meaningful.
“Ladies and gentlemen, good citizens of Whittington, I’d like to welcome you all to an event that is a fitting conclusion for Centennial Week: the unveiling and dedication of this new monument, which will grace our park from now on. Long after this week is over, this statue, which commemorates the founding of Whittington exactly one hundred years ago, will remind us of the spirit in which this town was built....”
“I hope he doesn’t talk all morning,” Jeff whispered. “I’m getting really curious about that article.”
“Me, too,” Chris whispered back. “Besides, Eric and the mayor kept saying that today, we’d all find out what everyone thought was so funny last night. I can’t see.... Oh, look, they’re going to unveil the statue!”
As the white cloth draped over the huge monument was pulled down in one fell swoop, the crowd gasped, then broke into spontaneous applause. Chris glanced over at it casually, then did a double take.
“Look, Jeff!” She stood up so she could get a better look. “That’s a statue of two people, not one!”
Almost as if he had heard her, Mayor Harris said, “A lot of you will be surprised to see that the statue of Whittington’s founder is actually a statue of two people. They were the Whittington brothers, George and William. Until very recently it was believed that George Whittington was the founder of our town. But recently our local historian, Edna Partridge”—he nodded in her direction—”discovered a little-known fact. Why don’t you explain this fascinating piece of history, Ms. Partridge?”
“Two brothers!” Chris gasped. Slowly everything was starting to fall into place.
“Thank you, Mayor Harris. Yes, I recently learned, through my research, that there were indeed two founders of Whittington. The two brothers looked rather alike, in fact, and they used their similarities in physical appearance to help raise money for the town. They would both pretend to be George Whittington so that they could double their efforts for raising money for the town library and other important buildings. These two men, George and William, worked together to accomplish something they both considered worthwhile. And now, one hundred years later, I’m sure we’re all appreciative of their ingenuity and spirit.”
“Wow!” Chris exclaimed after the speeches were over and the crowd began moving slowly toward the picnic grounds. “So there were two George Whittingtons, just like there are two Chris Pratts! Oh, look, here’s Susan.”
The two girls hugged each other gleefully. “What a stroke of luck! To think that you and I were actually reliving history!”
“No wonder the mayor thought it was so hilarious when he found out you were twins,” said Jeff.
“And Eric must have come across the true story of George and William on his own,” Chris said, her brow furrowed. “I wonder how I managed to miss it in my research.”
“Well, even Edna Partridge just found out, and she’s the town historian!” Susan replied. “Hey, let’s go get a copy of the Herald. Now that we finally know why everyone was so tickled that we were both pretending to be the same person, I can’t wait to see what Eric wrote.”
They found a candy store opposite the park.
“Ooh, I’m afraid to look,” Susan said nervously. “You find it, Chris. Tell me what it says.”
Chris had no trouble locating the article. There on the front page was a huge photograph of Chris and Jeff with Mayor Harris, a candid shot taken at the ribbon-cutting of the building site for the new elementary school. The headline read, CENTENNIAL WEEK FESTIVITIES MADE EVEN SWEETER BY HOT FUDGE SUNDAY.
“Oh, look, Sooz!” cried Chris. “You’ve got to see this!”
Reluctantly, Susan peeked over her sister’s shoulder. Chris began to read aloud.
“ ‘New meaning was given to the phrase “Whittington spirit” during last week’s festivities celebrating the one-hundred-year anniversary of the founding of our town. Amidst a whirlwind of activities related to the town’s history with special emphasis on its present development, the honorary queen of Centennial Week, a high school student named Christine Pratt, exhibited the same kind of ingenuity as Whittington’s founder, George Whittington.
“ ‘George and his look-alike brother worked together to double their productivity while raising both money and enthusiasm for the establishment of a new community. And Christine, with similar pluckiness, has secretly been sharing the responsibilities and rewards of being honorary queen with her identical twin sister, Susan.’ ”
“What a glowing report!” Jeff exclaimed after Chris had read the entire article aloud. “He makes it sound like you two are the most heroic citizens of Whittington since George and Willia
m themselves!”
“And here we’ve been so worried,” Susan sighed.
“You were the one who was worried!” cried Chris. “I had faith in the Hot Fudge Sunday Affair all along.”
“Christine Pratt! Do you mean to tell me. . .”
“Well, almost all along.”
“Come on, you two. Let’s head over to the picnic grounds. We don’t want to miss out on the rest of Centennial Week.”
“Besides, I’m anxious to find Eric.” Susan’s cheeks turned pink. “Well, I want to tell him how much I enjoyed his article!”
“Do you know who I want to find?”
“Who?” Susan and Jeff exchanged puzzled glances.
“Felicia Harris, that’s who!” Chris exclaimed. “I can’t wait to see the look on her face!”
Chapter Eighteen
The town park of Whittington, usually a quiet place, had taken on the atmosphere of a carnival. Throngs of people covered the huge lawn behind the playground, strolling, playing ball or Frisbee, or just talking. Red-white-and-blue streamers cascaded from the trees, along with perky clusters of balloons in the same colors. Set up along the side were big tables laden with food, much of it homemade by the townspeople, from which enthusiastic volunteers doled out barbecued frankfurters and hamburgers and lemonade. The fire department band played energetically, rousing marches that had everyone humming or tapping their toes.
And presiding over it all just a few hundred feet away were George and William Whittington.
“I think they look proud to be a part of all this,” Susan observed, glancing over at the monument as she helped herself to a generous dollop of potato salad. “Don’t you?”
“I think they look kind of impish, actually,” said Chris. “Look at the expression on old George’s face. He looks as if he’s about to burst out laughing any minute. As if he’s keeping the world’s best secret!”
“That’s something you girls should know all about!”
Susan and Chris turned around to see Eric standing there, a hot dog in each hand.
The Hot Fudge Sunday Affair Page 10
