When the Aldens finished their last day as tour guides, Aunt Jane invited everyone over for a special barbecue. Jessie and Benny sat on one side of an extra-long picnic table, along with Mr. Mason, Aunt Jane, Gwen, and Sharon. Across from them sat Henry, Violet, Miss Pennink, Draper Mills, and Jake North.
“These are the best hamburgers I’ve had in a long time,” declared Jake, who had been true to his word. A big article had appeared in the newspaper that morning. It said that the old Wagner farmhouse wasn’t haunted and never had been.
“I’m glad you could make it, Jake,” Aunt Jane said with a warm smile. “I didn’t know if you’d be too busy at work.”
“Oh, this was my day off.” Jake wiped some mustard from the corner of his mouth. “I’m lucky to even have a job after the stunts I’ve pulled. It’s on a trial basis, of course—which is more than I deserve.”
Draper Mills put a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”
“Yes, indeed,” agreed Mr. Mason. “We all make mistakes. It’s learning from them that matters. It happens to be one of the reasons I enjoy history so much. We can learn from the past and hopefully not repeat the same mistakes.” Mr. Mason cleared his throat. “I’m ashamed to say I’ve been guilty of some rigid thinking, the sort of thinking that was common in the Victorian era. I should have known better. Ever since that article about Horace came out in the newspaper, the museum’s been flooded with calls.
People want to know more about Horace and about the history of Elmford. If he can spark that kind of interest, Horace Wagner’s okay with me. And I have a feeling’ he added, “that Miss Pennink’s book will be sold out in Elmford.”
“You wrote a book, Miss Pennink?” cried Gwen. “You never said a word.”
Miss Pennink beamed. “It’s a history of the Wagner family.”
The Aldens looked at one another. That was what Miss Pennink had meant about making sure everyone knew about Horace Wagner.
“I’ve kept it a secret,” Miss Pennink went on, “knowing how Mr. Mason felt about Horace and his practical jokes. I didn’t want to risk Draper’s job. You see, Draper’s helping me. As soon as I finish a chapter, Draper goes over it and makes suggestions. Every morning, he leaves his notes for me in the pantry—in a crock pot.”
Gwen winked at Draper Mills. “That explains why you were in the farmhouse so early that morning. I didn’t think any of the window shades needed fixing.”
Draper nodded. “You caught me by surprise. Sorry for not being more honest.”
“It’s really quite a delightful book,” said Mr. Mason. “Miss Pennink told me about it the day I put Horace’s photograph back where it belonged.”
“I’m afraid I’ve been guilty of some rigid thinking myself.” Gwen put an arm around her younger sister. “I’m sure we can work something out, Sharon. There’s no reason you shouldn’t take part in those fashion shows.”
Sharon’s face lit up. “Oh, do you mean it?”
Gwen nodded. “It’s a good way for you to find out if modeling is what you really want.” Then she added, “I was thinking that the farmhouse gardens would be a wonderful place to hold some of those fashion shows. And who knows? Maybe Victorian dresses could be modeled along with the modern ones.”
Sharon was thrilled. “That’s a great idea!”
Benny had a question. He hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, “Sharon, why didn’t you want us working at the farmhouse?”
Gwen’s sister lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry for being so unfriendly,” she said. “The truth is, I was glad we were going to be shorthanded at the farmhouse. I thought it’d give me a chance to prove to my sister that I was responsible enough to handle any situation—including taking part in the fashion shows. When I heard you were volunteering, I thought my chance to prove myself was gone.” Sharon took a breath. “I never should have accused you of setting up those practical jokes,” she said, looking at each of the Aldens in turn. “Because of you, my sister still has her job.”
Draper Mills had a confession to make, too. “I haven’t been very friendly, either. It’s no secret I didn’t take kindly to the farm being opened up to the public. I thought all those visitors would trample all over the garden. But folks have been great. It’s been a nice surprise.”
“Well,” said Aunt Jane, “we’re certainly not short on reasons to celebrate today!”
Miss Pennink agreed. “It’s a good thing I made a very special dessert.”
Benny grinned. “Dessert?”
“Wait right here,” Miss Pennink told him, then she disappeared into the kitchen. Returning a moment later, she said, “This was my great-great-grandfather’s favorite dessert—April Fool pie!”
“April Fool pie?” echoed Benny. “What’s that?”
Miss Pennink set the dessert on the picnic table. “You won’t know until you try it, Benny.” And she gave him the first piece.
“It looks like apple pie,” observed Benny. “Mmmm, it tastes like apple pie, too!”
“April Fool!” said Miss Pennink with a big smile. “There isn’t a single apple in it. It’s made with crackers and a mixture of water, lemon juice, sugar, and a teaspoon of cream of tartar. You sprinkle it with cinnamon and bake it in the oven. And that’s how you get—”
“April Fool pie!” everyone cried out.
Jessie said, “This is a perfect way to end the week.”
“And our trip back in time,” added Violet.
“We even solved a mystery on our trip,” declared Benny. “Right, Henry?”
“Like I said before, Benny,” Henry answered, “some things never change!” |