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Trudy
It’s Monday morning. I’ve been awake since the telephone rang at 6:30. For over an hour I’ve been lying here listening to my parents run up and down the stairs. Doors open and close, and one of them gets in the car and leaves. Something is going on, but I don’t even care. I’m grieving the loss of Mrs. Hallovich’s scones.
At 8:00 my mom peeks in my door, still wearing her bathrobe.
“Good morning, Sweetheart,” she says.
“Morning, Mom.”
She comes over to kiss my forehead and sits next to me on the bed.
“There’s been a small change of plans.”
Could it be . . . ? I think hopefully to myself. I hold my breath.
“Heather called this morning and she seems to have come down with a bad, summer cold and doesn’t want to make you guys sick.”
“So we’re going to Willow House?!” This is fantastic! I’m already out of bed and getting dressed before she can answer.
“Well . . . no.”
I stop dressing.
“Dad went over there this morning to see if Mrs. Hallovich would mind keeping the two of you for another week, but her great-niece met him at the door and offered to come here.”
I’m confused. “What great-niece?”
“Her name is Trudy. She looks like she’s about Heather’s age. She must be the daughter of that nephew who’s helping fix up Willow House.”
I’m nodding my head, trying to process it all. She’s the daughter of the nephew I’ve never seen.
“When will she be here?” I ask.
“She’s downstairs with Tommy now. You can get dressed and join them. I’ll be down in a couple of minutes.”
I find them both in the kitchen. Tommy is in his highchair with a pile of dry, but soggy, Corn Pops and a sippy cup full of milk. He’s babbling away to Mrs. Hallovich’s great-niece who’s sitting in the seat beside him. She smiles up at me and says, “Hi, Ella. I’m Trudy.”
“Hi.” I grab a clean bowl and spoon, plop myself on the other side of Tommy, and reach for the cereal box. “I’m missing Mrs. Hallovich’s baking this morning,” I say, to start some conversation.
Trudy smiles and nods. “She’s an excellent cook.”
“How are you this morning?” I say to Tommy.
“Today!” he says.
“You can help yourself to the cereal,” I say to Trudy.
“No thanks, I ate before I came over.”
Probably scones, I think with a stab of jealousy. “How come I haven’t seen you at Willow House?”
“I go over with my dad sometimes in the evening to help out. I’m usually not there during the day.”
“How many people are working over there?” I ask. I’m still trying to solve the mysteries.
“Enough,” is all she says. She leans toward Tommy. “I can’t get over how much he looks like my aunt’s son Henry.”
“I thought so too.”
Her eyes flash to me. “How do you know what Henry looks like?”
“There’s a photo in Mrs. Hallovich’s locket and one by her bed.”
“So, you’ve seen Gertrude as well?”
“Yes. She was really cute too.”
Trudy gives me a big smile and nods. “I was named after her.”
I must look confused because she explains, “Trudy is short for Gertrude.”
“Oh! Like Frank is short for Francis!”
“Exactly!” she says.
Mom comes downstairs all dressed and ready for work. She spends a few minutes going over things with Trudy and tells her to make herself at home. She gives Tommy and me a kiss and then, she’s gone, and it’s just the three of us.
“So, how was your week at Willow House?” Trudy’s eyes are green and intense and trying to look into my deepest thoughts. It reminds me of someone else we all know.
I start talking and feel like I can’t stop. I end up telling her about the girl in the boat.
“Did you get a good look at her?”
“Not really. She was a little too far away.”
Trudy nods. “I bet that was Sarah McGlinchey. Her family lives on the other side of the pond. “Aunt Winnie lets them take their family boat out on it.”
“Aunt Winnie?”
“Yeah. Her real name is Gwendolyn but the family has always called her Winnie.”
I’m staring back, wondering why Mrs. Hallovich didn’t tell me her name was also Winnie, when I told her my grandma’s name. Trudy must think I don’t understand because she continues, “like Gertrude and Trudy, Francis and Frank.”
That annoys me. “I get it,” I say kind of rudely. But, I don’t want to offend Trudy. She might be able to clear up some of the mysteries.
I tell her about that weird piano lesson I heard.
“Oh! That was me! I wasn’t sure where Aunt Winnie was, and there was Tommy all alone in the big house. I played with him a while until I heard you guys come in and I knew he was safe.”
I tell her about the footsteps I heard over my head when I was in the kitchen that first day.
“Yeah. That was probably me too. I don’t think Aunt Winnie knew I was there.”
Maybe I do have an overactive imagination. But, didn’t she just tell me that she wasn’t usually there during the day? Are the mysteries in the house so easily explainable; just coincidences. But . . . that would mean . . . there’s nothing that my friends have to be afraid of!
I tell Trudy about the invitations to the tea party and the pickle I’ve gotten myself into.
“Do you think I could help convince them to go?” she asks.
“You would do that for me?!”
“Sure I would. Invite them over. I’ll talk to them.”
I’m so happy, I could explode! “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“No problem. They will love the party, and there’s really no need at all for them to feel uncomfortable in Willow House.”
“You’re the best!” I jump up to give her a hug, but she puts up her hands.
“No offense, Ella. But, I’m not a touchy person.”
My feelings are a little hurt, but I get it. There’s a kid in my class who doesn’t like to be touched either. He’s a nice guy though, and we all respect his space.
I act casual. “That’s cool,” I say.
She gives me a big smile. “If you don’t mind, I think Tommy needs his diaper changed. I’ll be in the living room.”
What? Since when do babysitter’s not change diapers? This is not okay. If I end up making grilled cheese or calling 9-1-1, I’ll be really mad.
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