Chapters (68)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Chapter One
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Chapter Two
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Chapter Three
- Ten
- Eleven
- Chapter Four
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Chapter Five
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Chapter Six
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Chapter Seven
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Chapter Eight
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Chapter Nine
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Ten
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Chapter Eleven
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Chapter Twelve
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Chapter Thirteen
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Chapter Fourteen
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Chapter Fifteen
- The Following Summer
- About the Author
- About the Publisher
“Me too. I’ve felt kind of out of sorts since I moved here. I mean, I’m glad I’m getting to spend time with Granddad, but it’s bringing up a lot of stuff.” He paused and searched her face. “What about you? Do you ever feel weird living here?”
Ali wished she could tell him just how weird she felt since she’d moved to Saint John, but that was impossible. “No. I like it. Maybe it feels weird because it makes you think of your dad.”
“A lot of things make me think of my dad these days. . . .” His voice trailed off. Afraid she’d offended him, Ali decided to steer the conversation back to Gigi’s party. Alfie needed to understand what was at stake if he couldn’t talk Andrew Sloane into attending.
“Digger told me that if something happens to Gigi, we’ll have to leave Saint John because your grandfather will inherit the house.”
“Why would he kick you out? He already has a house.”
“But he doesn’t need two houses,” Ali pointed out. “And Gigi’s house is where he grew up. We couldn’t afford to take care of Gigi’s house anyway. Digger doesn’t work and my mom doesn’t make a lot of money.” She’d never told anyone that before. What would he think?
There was another awkward silence. Ali was about to say something boring about the weather when Alfie’s eyes lit up. “I know how we can get Granddad to come to the party!”
Ali’s chest swelled with hope. “How?”
“You invite him.”
“Me?” Ali squeaked.
Alfie grinned. “Yes! If you ask him, I bet he’d be too polite to say no. Come by on Sunday.”
Ali tilted her head. “Do you really think me asking him will make him change his mind?”
“It has to,” Alfie whispered. “I need to meet your dad and Gigi.”
They’d reached Gigi’s house. Alfie began to shuffle back and forth, getting ready to bolt.
“Fine. I’ll do it.” She couldn’t hide the dread in her voice. Talking to Andrew Sloane would be like having three cavities filled without any novocaine. In other words: excruciating.
The conversation was interrupted by raucous chittering above. A squirrel and chipmunk were squabbling on Gigi’s windowsill.
“This house needs a cat,” Ali muttered.
Alfie shook his head. “I’m allergic to cats. Besides, I like that she feeds animals. Maybe I can help her feed them someday.” He saluted, then hurried away, knapsack swinging.
Ali pictured Alfie in Gigi’s window. She’d brave Andrew Sloane to make that happen.