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Back The Year the Maps Changed Save as PDF
Chapters (75)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Map
  6. Prologue
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. Acknowledgments
  74. About the Author
  75. About the Publisher

“Maybe it’d be cool?” Jed looked to Aidan as he handed him back the flyer.

Aidan scoffed at that, then got back on his bike and flicked his pedals to get his feet in position. “Eat my shorts!” he called as he was pushing off. We all had to pedal hard to catch up with him.

But I noticed that he’d tucked the piece of paper into his jeans pocket.

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29

The Way It Was

Pop came home that first week of winter holidays, and I thought everything would go back to the way it was before his fall.

Luca and I got a banner from the two-dollar shop that said “Welcome Home” in sparkly letters and hung it on the front door of his apartment. Luca hadn’t managed to clear out all of Drumlin’s stuff, but Pop said he didn’t mind.

At Pop’s first night back at the dinner table, Sam just kept staring at him. I knew it was because he’d never seen anyone quite so tall and imposing. Sam’s jaw unhinged and he cranked his head back to get a good look at him. I think it’s also because Sam’s not used to grandparents being around, the same way I’m not used to mothers anymore—and Pop is a lot to get used to, I suppose.

“I’m sorry it’s not quite the celebration you were hoping for,” Luca said, nodding at the dishes piled up in the sink and the letters and bills pushed to a heap at one end of the table. “Things have been a little hectic since Anika . . .”

Pop waved him away and bit into his pizza, which we’d ordered especially from the best place in town. Once he’d swallowed his capricciosa, Pop said, “I remember what it was like. Don’t you worry—you’re doing fine.”

I looked down at my plate, but suddenly couldn’t take another bite of my barbecue chicken pizza. I forgot sometimes that Pop and Luca are similar and for all the worst reasons. Raising kids by themselves because the people they loved . . .

Except Anika wasn’t gone, just at the hospital—she and Drumlin were off getting better and ready to come home again.

“I might hit the hay,” Pop said, grabbing for his walking stick.

“Are you all right, Jeff? Will you need any help tonight, um . . .”

Pop waved him away. “Wiping my bottom and blowing my nose? Not yet, son—not yet!”

Luca blushed, and then Pop was giving Sam a little salute with his fingers to his forehead, which Sam copied in return.

“Fred—walk me back?”

Pop and I walked down the garden path to his apartment, which was finally lit up again—like a little lighthouse at the back of our garden.