Best Friends (4 page)

When Flora moved to Camden Falls at the beginning of the previous summer (which seemed now to be both a very long time ago and a very short time ago), there were many days when she wanted to be alone, so she would escape to Min's attic. Eventually, she began to explore it. She had hoped the attic might be like one in a book — hiding a doorway to another world or at the very least harboring a trunk full of treasure. But Min's attic had proven to be of the more boring kind. It held boxes of old clothes (but not even
very
old clothes) and boxes of dishes, plus some furniture of dubious quality that wasn't being used but that Min couldn't bear to part with. At last, though, Flora had discovered a carton holding old letters and keepsakes and papers and journals. Careful examination of some of the letters had led Flora to a mystery. It wasn't, she had to admit, quite as exciting as the mysteries Nancy Drew usually found herself thrust into (often on the very first page of the book), involving spies and thieves and jailbirds. But as homegrown mysteries go, Flora's wasn't a bad one.

Flora had learned that long ago (in 1929, before Min was born) Min's father had done something that had lost a lot of money for a lot of people. A bit of reading had revealed that he hadn't done anything wrong; as a stockbroker he had made investments for his clients, and when the stock market crashed, sending the country into the Great Depression, his clients lost their savings. Those clients had blamed Min's father for their losses, which led to a chain of events that, Flora realized, had affected more than just the people whose investments had been lost. Employers lost their businesses and had to let their workers go. The workers, now with no income, were forced to give up their homes or to find lower-paying jobs. Babies were born into poverty when they once might have been born into prosperity.

Flora's mystery grew more interesting when she learned that Mary Woolsey was connected to it. Mary's father had been one of the people whose money had been invested and lost by Min's father. The fortunes of Mary's parents had changed, so Mary had been one of the babies unexpectedly born into a poor household, her future a question mark. As Flora came to know Mary better, a new mystery arose. Who had sent Mary anonymous gifts of money for decades after her father was lost in a fire at the factory he'd begun working in after the stock market crash? Mary had thought it was Min's father, acting out of guilt over the changes he'd caused in the lives of the Woolseys. But Flora, feeling like quite a good sleuth, had eventually realized that that wasn't possible, and the mystery remained unsolved, Mary's benefactor a question mark himself. Or herself, thought Flora.

Flora had become interested in how this one moment in the life of Lyman Davis, her great-grandfather, had affected so many other people. Now, with Mary's help and Min's permission, she was doing a project for the town birthday celebration, planning to interview people living today in Camden Falls whose lives had changed because of her great-grandfather. And she was going to start with Mrs. Jacob Fitzpatrick, the woman Mary Woolsey had suggested she visit.

“I've been sewing for her for several years now,” Mary had told Flora in Needle and Thread one day. Mary earned her living doing mending and sewing, and several times a week she came to Needle and Thread to pick up articles of clothing that had been left for her or to drop off finished pieces.

“Mrs. Fitzpatrick?” Min said. “Sorry, but I couldn't help overhearing. She's a very nice woman, Flora. Are you going to interview her for your project?”

“I guess,” said Flora, suddenly nervous about talking to a complete stranger.

“She'll be perfect,” said Mary. “I think you'll see why after you've spoken with her.”

Flora looked at Min. “I don't know Mrs. Fitzpatrick at all. I feel funny calling to ask if I can interview her.”

“I understand completely,” said Min. “How about if I call her for you?”

“Oh, thank you!” replied Flora, who had been afraid that Min might tell her to buck up and face her fears.

So it was arranged that after school on Wednesday, Aunt Allie would drop Flora off at Mrs. Fitzpatrick's house on the eastern edge of Camden Falls and return in thirty minutes to pick her up.

On the appointed afternoon, Flora sat in the front seat of her aunt's car, a notebook and tape recorder in her lap, butterflies in her stomach.

“Wow,” she said softly as Aunt Allie drove up a winding drive. A great stone mansion loomed ahead of them.

Aunt Allie stopped the car in front of the house, and Flora reached for the handle of the door, then hesitated.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” asked Allie, and Flora looked at her gratefully. “Or I could wait here in the car.”

The door to the house opened then, and out stepped a smiling woman wearing a tweed suit. “Flora?” she said. “I'm Mrs. Fitzpatrick.”

Flora smiled back at her and said to Aunt Allie, “You can go. It's okay. Thank you for driving me here.”

“I'll see you in half an hour,” Allie replied.

Flora followed Mrs. Fitzpatrick through the doorway, and when she stepped into the grand entrance hall, she turned around and around, like someone in a movie. The hall was bigger than Min's whole living room. Oil paintings hung on the walls, each lit by its own tiny individual lamp. From the center of the ceiling swooped a chandelier decorated with what Flora thought must be hundreds of crystal pendants.

This was the house belonging to the descendant of someone who had lost all his money in the crash of 1929?

“Your grandmother explained your project to me,” said Mrs. Fitzpatrick. “Very interesting.”

Flora nodded. “Thank you. I didn't know anything at all about my great-grandfather until I moved here.”

“Come. Let's sit in the drawing room,” said Mrs. Fitzpatrick.

The drawing room. Flora had never met anyone whose home included a drawing room.

Mrs. Fitzpatrick led the way into a lavishly furnished room with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over a sloping lawn. She indicated a chair, which Flora sat in, and then she lowered herself into a matching chair.

Flora opened her notebook and said, “Do you mind if I tape our interview?” (Min had told her to say this, adding, “It's rude to start recording without asking first.”)

“Not at all,” replied Mrs. Fitzpatrick, and Flora switched on the recorder.

Flora, feeling more nervous than ever, nevertheless began the short introduction she had rehearsed. “In nineteen twenty-nine,” she said, “my great-grandfather, Min's father, was a stockbroker here in Camden Falls. When the market crashed —”

“I believe that day was called Black Thursday,” interrupted Mrs. Fitzpatrick.

“Really?” Flora made a note in her book. “When the market crashed, a lot of my great-grandfather's clients lost their fortunes. Was your father one of them?” Flora was beginning to think that either Mary had made a mistake, or that she wanted to show Flora that some of Lyman Davis's clients had not lost their fortunes and had continued to do well for themselves.

“Yes,” said Mrs. Fitzpatrick. Flora looked so surprised that Mrs. Fitzpatrick laughed. “I know. You wouldn't guess it by looking around. But the truth is that my father lost, well, not every penny he had — that would be an exaggeration — but almost all of his money. I wasn't born yet, by the way, so I don't remember any of this.”

“Did your family live here then?” asked Flora.

“They lived in Camden Falls but not in this house. They lived in another large house, though. It wasn't quite as big as this one, but it was still a beautiful old home. It isn't too far from your house on Aiken Avenue, Flora. Anyway, by January of nineteen thirty, my father realized just how much trouble our family was in, and according to my older brother, who remembers this night very well, our father sat down at the dinner table one evening and announced that they were going to have to move. He told my mother and my brother that he was going to sell the house and all of their belongings, and that they were going to move in with his younger brother. The next day he called the household staff together and told them the same thing, adding that he would have to let them go.”

Flora nodded, thinking of her great-grandfather saying the same thing to Mary Woolsey's mother and the rest of the staff at his house.

“My brother told me,” Mrs. Fitzpatrick continued, “that when Father made this announcement, the gardener hung his head, two of the maids began to cry, but the chauffeur smiled.”

“Why did he smile?” asked Flora.

“Mr. Pennington? Because he —”

“Excuse me,” said Flora. “The chauffeur's name was Mr. Pennington?”

Mrs. Fitzpatrick nodded. “Rudy Pennington, I think. Why?”

“Rudy Pennington is the name of our neighbor!”

“At the Row Houses?” asked Mrs. Fitzpatrick.

“Yes.”

“That's the junior Rudy Pennington, then. He's the son of the man who was our chauffeur. And his father was smiling because … I'm not sure exactly, but I think he saw losing his job as an opportunity. Flora, if his son is your neighbor, you ought to talk to him, too. I imagine he'll have an interesting story for your project, and a very different one from the one you'll hear today.”

“Okay,” said Flora, making another note in her book.

Mrs. Fitzpatrick, staring out a window now, said after a moment, “My father was a man of his word. The staff was let go, and he really did sell the house and my family's possessions. But what happened in the next few years was that my father and his brother joined forces to start a store in town. The store thrived, so they opened another store, then bought a third business and more businesses after that. By the time I was a teenager, Father had built this house, and I've lived here since. I taught all my children not only to be smart with their money but to be charitable as well.”

“Do your children live in Camden Falls?” asked Flora.

“My daughter does. Sheila DuVane. I'm very proud of her.”

Sheila DuVane? Could that be the Mrs. DuVane who had long been helping out Nikki's family? Flora couldn't think of a tactful way to phrase that question, so she made yet another note in her book. Maybe she would ask Min about it later.

Flora looked at her watch. The half hour was almost over. “This has been really interesting,” she said to Mrs. Fitzpatrick. “Thank you very much for talking to me. It was actually Mary Woolsey who suggested that I interview you.”

“Oh, Mary Woolsey.” Mrs. Fitzpatrick stared out the window again. “Now, that was a sad story.” Flora was about to ask what she meant by this when Mrs. Fitzpatrick continued. “I suppose you've heard about the fire at the factory.”

Flora nodded. “Do you remember it?”

“Not well. I was just a little girl when that happened. But I do remember my mother saying from time to time that after the fire her friend Isabelle was never the same. Isabelle was the sister of Mary's father.”

Flora jerked to attention. Mary had never mentioned any relatives, only her parents.

“My mother also said,” Mrs. Fitzpatrick went on, “that if someone wanted to leave his life behind and start over fresh, with a new identity, the fire afforded an easy way to do that.”

Flora was pretty certain that her mouth dropped open at this remark, but the doorbell rang then, and Mrs. Fitzpatrick rose to her feet, saying, “That must be your aunt.”

Flora followed her back to the hallway. The interview was over.

“This is the dress for the baby?” said Olivia. “Wow.” She was sitting on the floor in Flora's bedroom. The room was a mess, awash in fabric scraps, bits of paper, open books, and pattern pieces. The half-finished dress, which Flora now held out for inspection by Olivia and Ruby, was not the first one Olivia had seen Flora make, but she never ceased to be surprised by what her friend could do.

She touched the front of the dress. “What's that called again?” she asked.

“Smocking,” replied Flora.

“I love it.” Olivia examined the tiny stitches that formed a picture of the cow jumping over the moon.

“We'd better hurry and finish our baby presents, all of us,” said Flora. “The shower's less than a week away.”

The Row House neighbors were planning a baby shower for the Fongs. It was going to be held at Olivia's house, and it was supposed to be a surprise for Mrs. Fong. (Mr. Fong was in on the secret.) Olivia recalled her tenth birthday party, held the previous autumn, which had indeed been a surprise. But adults, she felt certain, were harder to surprise than kids. Still, surprise or not, the shower would be fun, and Olivia, Ruby, and Flora had decided to make their presents for the baby. Now, however, the shower was just days away, and none of their gifts was finished.

“How's your present coming?” Olivia asked Ruby.

“Well …” said Ruby.

“You have been working on it, haven't you?” asked Flora.

“Well …” said Ruby again.

“Ruby,” said Flora.

“We're having a lot more play rehearsals now than before!”

“Okay,” said Olivia calmly. “Show us what you've done. Maybe we can help you. I only need a couple of hours to finish my present.”

“First let's see yours,” said Ruby.

Olivia opened a paper bag and carefully withdrew a package wrapped in tissue paper. “It's a photo album,” she said. “I bought the album, but I'm making a cover for it — it's going to say
BABY
in pink-and-white-checked fabric right here — and I decorated some of the pages. See? Mr. and Mrs. Fong can take pictures of the baby's ‘firsts' and put them in the album. This page is for her first walk in her carriage, this one is for her first Halloween, this one is for her first steps. All I need to do now is finish the cover.”

“Olivia, that's beautiful! It's a great idea,” said Ruby.

“But you're not off the hook, Ruby Jane,” said Flora. “Come on. Let's see your present. What have you got?”

Ruby made a face at her sister. Then she left Flora's room, crossed the hall to her own room, and returned a few moments later holding out an empty soup can.

“What's that?” asked Olivia.

“It's a can,” replied Ruby.

“We can see that,” said Flora.

Ruby sighed. “I figure it could be either a rattle or a piggy bank. I could fill it with pebbles or something and it could be a rattle —”

“You mean a choking hazard!” shrieked Olivia. “That's a terrible idea.”

“All right then, a bank,” said Ruby. “I'll wrap the sides with construction paper, make a top out of cardboard or something, and cut a hole in it for dropping the money through.”

“Why,” said Flora, “am I reminded of the pencil cup you made Dr. Malone for Christmas? Oh, that's right. Another decorated soup can.”

“Look,” said Ruby, growing angrier, “I have play rehearsals and dance classes and chorus rehearsals —”

“You guys, don't fight,” interrupted Olivia. “The point is that Ruby needs to make a present. Fast. Flora, you and I have time to help her. Let's all sit down and think.”

“How about a stuffed animal?” said Ruby a few moments later.

“That's not a bad idea,” said Flora. “We still have a couple of teddy bear kits left at the store.”

“Hmm,” said Olivia. “I wonder what Annika would make.”

Flora frowned. “What do you mean?” she asked.

But Ruby said, “She'd make something wild, like a jungle quilt.”

“Is Annika good at sewing?” asked Olivia.

“Pretty good,” said Flora. She turned to her sister. “Why don't we call Min and ask her to bring one of the kits home tonight? I can help you with a bear, okay?”

“Okay,” replied Ruby.

Olivia and Flora turned to their own gifts, but Olivia's mind was on Annika and jungle quilts and all that Annika had in common with Flora.

 

Four days later, on a rainy Saturday afternoon, Olivia's house began to fill with neighbors, who arrived through the Walters' back door, bearing packages hidden in grocery bags and old cardboard boxes.

“Not that the Fongs will see us,” said Olivia to Flora and Ruby. “They should be in town now. Then at two o'clock Mr. Fong is supposed to say, ‘Come on, dear. Let's go home. We'll stop by the Walters' on the way and pick up their old high chair.'”

“What if Mrs. Fong doesn't want to stop by?” asked Ruby.

Olivia's face fell. “I didn't think of that,” she said.

“Don't worry,” said Flora. “Mr. Fong will get her here one way or another.”

Olivia looked around her living room. It was filling up fast with both neighbors and presents. Her mother kept sending out plates of food, which Olivia, Ruby, and Flora were in charge of passing to the guests.

Olivia loved company. There were Mr. Pennington and Min, sitting side by side on the couch. There was Aunt Allie, talking awkwardly to Robby, who was so excited about the surprise that he was bouncing up and down on his toes. “We bought the baby a car seat!” he exclaimed. “It's in that box, that big one over there. It's almost the biggest present of all!” There was Margaret Malone talking to Mr. Willet, and Lydia Malone sitting on a chair in a very bored fashion, sneaking a peek at the texts on her phone, which Dr. Malone had told her not to bring. And there were the Morris kids, chasing Jack and Henry up and down the stairs.

In the midst of the confusion Olivia glanced first at her watch and then through the front window. Suddenly, she yelped, “I see the Fongs! Here they come! They're almost here!”

The room grew quiet.

“Everyone stand back there,” said Mr. Walter, pointing. “And don't say a word,” he added, looking deliberately at Jack, Henry, Alyssa, Travis, Lacey, and Mathias, who had screeched to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. “I'll answer the door. When I let them in, yell ‘Surprise!' … but not
too
loudly.”

The Row House neighbors huddled at one end of the Walters' living room, while Mr. Walter waited in the hallway. Ruby suppressed a giggle, Mrs. Morris hushed Travis and Alyssa, and Flora reached for Olivia's hand and gripped it.

Olivia heard the door open.

“Hi,” said her father.

“Hi,” replied Mr. Fong. “We thought we'd pick up the high chair, if it's convenient.”

“Absolutely. Come on in.”

The Fongs, Mr. Walter behind them, appeared in the entry to the living room, and Olivia and her family and friends cried, “Surprise!”

Olivia watched Mrs. Fong's face closely and decided she wouldn't be able to look quite so startled unless she was either truly surprised or a very good actor. She actually thought her neighbor seemed just a teensy bit frightened.

Mrs. Fong's hands flew to her cheeks.

“Did we surprise you? Did we surprise you?” asked Alyssa.

“You certainly did,” said Mrs. Fong, and she began to smile. “Thank you!” she exclaimed. She turned to her husband. “You knew, didn't you?”

He was smiling, too. “Hardest secret I've ever had to keep.”

Mrs. Fong, hands resting on her belly, was ushered to a chair, and the adults began to talk and laugh. Olivia and Flora and Ruby passed the plates of food again, but after just a few minutes, Lacey Morris cried, “Open the presents now! We can't wait any longer.”

And so the present opening began.

“I've never seen so many gifts,” exclaimed Mrs. Fong.

There were baby blankets and baby socks and baby hats. There was a red wagon from Dr. Malone and a stack of picture books from the Morrises and plenty of handmade gifts, including the album from Olivia (“Stunning,” said Mrs. Fong) and the dress from Flora (“You're so talented,” said Mr. Fong) and the teddy from Ruby (“Our baby's first stuffed animal,” said Mrs. Fong). Min, Mr. Pennington, and Mr. Willet had pooled their resources and bought a baby carriage. Even Lydia had bought and wrapped a crib mobile and seemed genuinely pleased when the Fongs proclaimed it to be exactly the kind their baby book recommended.

When the last gift had been opened, Olivia surveyed the paper-strewn room with satisfaction. Then she glanced at Mrs. Fong and saw tears in her eyes.

“She's
crying
,” she whispered to Flora and Ruby.

“Because she's happy,” said Ruby.

“Because she's pregnant,” said Flora.

Mrs. Fong kept saying “Thank you” and “We're so lucky to have neighbors like you” and Olivia knew the party had been a success.

 

Later, when the neighbors had left and the mess had been cleared up and the Walters had eaten a haphazard supper of hot dogs and party leftovers, Olivia lay on her bed and thought dreamily of the new baby and what would happen after she was born. With Mrs. Willet at Three Oaks, the Row House neighbors would once again number twenty-five (not counting Flora and Ruby's aunt Allie, who still said she was house-hunting). Funny how things worked. One person left, a new one arrived. And Alyssa Morris would no longer be the youngest Row House kid. Furthermore, by the time the baby was a toddler, Olivia would be old enough to sit for her. In fact, in just over five years, the baby would be ready for kindergarten at Camden Falls Elementary.

At this, Olivia's thoughts ran off on their own and she couldn't seem to reel them in. Thinking of kindergarten made her think of graduation and the fact that her own kindergarten days didn't seem so very far in the past. Graduation reminded her of the things that would happen just
before
graduation — the town birthday celebration, for example, and Annika's arrival. And the thought of Annika led Olivia down paths she'd rather not travel.

Olivia sank onto her bed, and at last she admitted something to herself, something she had been thinking about ever since the day Flora had announced that Annika was coming to visit: Olivia had the horrible feeling that Annika had been a better best friend than Olivia was.

How, Olivia wondered, could she prove that she was a good best friend, too? A creative and talented best friend, as Annika apparently had been?

Olivia's eyes searched her room and they fell on the animal pictures she planned to enter in the photography exhibit.