The Vanderbeekers Make a Wish

by Karina Yan Glaser

  “I wonder what happened to that van,” Yardsy said. “It was a white van he was borrowing from a friend.”

  “So Pop-Pop didn’t name it?” Isa asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Yardsy said. “I think it came with the name. The owner was a mechanic, so the van worked like a dream. It could easily have done a cross-country trip.”

  “Cross-country?” Jessie asked. “Are you saying that Whalers Cove is on the West Coast?”

  “California,” Yardsy confirmed. “I don’t remember where exactly.”

  “I tried to find it in California,” Jessie told him. “But I couldn’t find anything linked to a military base. That’s where Pop-Pop’s dad was stationed during the war.”

  Yardsy thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I can’t remember exactly what part of California. It’s a big state, so I can imagine it would be hard to find.”

  “You should come to Papa’s birthday party this Saturday at three o’clock,” Laney said. “He’s turning forty.”

  Yardsy smiled. “Forty. Wow. I haven’t seen Derek for years. I would love to come and wish him a happy birthday.”

  Isa wrote the location on a piece of paper, and Yardsy gave them his business card with his cell phone number scrawled on it.

  “Call me if you need anything,” Yardsy said. Then he looked at Laney. “I expect to hear from you when you’re ready to build a boat.”

  “Can we do it tomorrow?” she asked.

  Yardsy laughed. “Building a boat takes a long time. Those kids out there? They started that boat back in June!”

  “Wow!” Laney said. “That is a long time.”

  “It’s slow, careful work,” Yardsy said. “You can’t rush it.”

  “Maybe you can tell us stories about Pop-Pop while we work on it,” Laney suggested.

  “I think that’s a fine idea.”

  Outside, the shouts and laughter of the summer camp kids drifted into the workshop and mingled with the fresh sawdust. Laney tucked the memory of that moment into her heart while Yardsy said, “I’ll tell you one story about him, and then I’ve got to get back to work. We were finishing our last garbage pickup one morning, and in the rearview mirror your grandfather saw a woman running behind us. Her hair was in curlers and she was wearing slippers and pajamas. Now, before you think this story makes me look bad and makes your grandfather look like a hero, keep in mind that I was hungry and tired and it was a hot summer day.

  “The truth is, I did not want to stop for her. But your grandpa didn’t listen to me, and he screeched to a halt and jumped out of the truck. The woman was frantic. She thought she had accidentally thrown away a ring that belonged to her great-grandma when she was cooking the previous night. I told her it would be impossible to look for a tiny ring in a truck full of garbage.”

  “That doesn’t sound very helpful of you,” Laney said.

  “I told you this story doesn’t make me look that good. Remember, I was tired, I was hungry, and I smelled. But the woman said, ‘I’m ninety-nine percent sure.’ I was about to say, ‘Too bad,’ but your grandfather told her that we had to bring the truck to the disposal area and dump out the contents and she could go through it. But first she needed to put on some different clothes because going through garbage could be dangerous.

  “She ran home and was back in five minutes in jeans and big leather hiking boots. She got into the garbage truck, hair still in curlers, and rode with us to the disposal site. We dumped the load in this one area. I was all ready to say see ya later, but your grandfather insisted that we help her look. So we put on hard hats, gloves, protective glasses, and vests and got to work.”

  “I’m glad you helped her,” Hyacinth told him.

  “Me too. You wouldn’t imagine the types of things people throw out! Your grandfather was excellent at finding things. Once he found a garden gnome right in the middle of a trash pile. I liked it so much that I washed it off and brought it home. Now it’s on the path here, right by the sign. You saw it, right?”

  The Vanderbeekers nodded.

  “I love that gnome,” Laney told him. “Does he have a name?”

  “His name is Gnome.”

  “I’m going to give him a better name,” Laney said. “Jerome the Gnome. Gnome of the City Shire. Vincent. Which one do you like?”

  “Anyway,” Yardsy continued, “it took us two hours to find the bag that the woman had discarded. Thank goodness she put her garbage in a distinctive grocery bag from Fairway. We opened up the bag and searched carefully. Your father found the ring in a bunch of garlic and ginger peels. The woman thanked us a hundred times and insisted on having us over for dinner the next night. Your Pop-Pop declined—he liked to be home in the evenings so he could be with your father, who was probably around seven at the time—but it looked to me like this lady was a great cook based on what we found in her garbage, so I said yes. I went the next evening and realized I really liked her. To my surprise, she liked me too.”

  “Even though you were sort of mean about letting her look through the garbage?” Oliver asked.

  “Yup. A year later, we ended up getting married. We just celebrated our thirty-second wedding anniversary.”

  “Wow!” the Vanderbeekers said.

  “So Pop-Pop was responsible for your marriage,” Isa said.

  “He sure was,” Yardsy said. “And he didn’t just do that kind of stuff with me. He did those types of things all the time. I look forward to telling you more stories when you come and build that boat.”

  The sounds from the campers were getting louder, so Yardsy said, “I’ve got to make sure those kids are doing okay. When I come on Saturday for the party, we can set up times for you to come by.”

  “We would love that,” Isa said. “Thank you.”

  The Vanderbeekers said goodbye to Yardsy and the campers and went back down the path to the sidewalk, pausing to look at the garden gnome by the Knot Too Shabby sign.

  “I can’t believe Pop-Pop pulled this out of the garbage,” Oliver said, touching the gnome’s funny, faded hat. “And now it’s here, decades later.”

  “Now we know that Whalers Cove is in California,” Jessie said. “We can narrow down the search this afternoon.”

  “I wonder if that van is still out there somewhere,” Laney said.

  “Probably not,” Oliver said. “It’s been almost two decades since that trip was planned.”

  Laney patted the gnome on the head (“Goodbye, Vincent!” she said), and the Vanderbeekers made their way back to the subway station, up the stairs, and back onto the 1 train, this time going downtown to Harlem.

  “I forgot for a while,” Laney said when they got off at 145th Street and emerged onto the sidewalk.

  “Forgot what?” Isa asked.

  “I forgot that Grandma is at home waiting for us.”

  And just like that, the Vanderbeekers’ good mood vanished.

  Twenty

  When the Vanderbeekers stepped inside the brownstone, Franz howled in delight at being reunited with Hyacinth, Paganini jumped in erratic circles in the hallway while Tuxedo chased after him, and George Washington leaped onto the side table by the door and slid on the mail gathered there, knocking the stack of envelopes and catalogs to the floor.

  Aunt Penny, Mr. Beiderman, and Orlando were in the kitchen making lunch, but Grandma and Grandpa were nowhere to be found.

  “Hey,” Jessie said after plucking George Washington off the table and putting the mail back. “We’re home.”

  “How was your morning?” Aunt Penny called from the kitchen. “I mean, after breakfast, that is.”

  “It was so great,” Hyacinth told her. “We tracked down one of Pop-Pop’s best friends. They worked together at the sanitation department!”

  “And now he teaches kids how to build boats,” Laney said. “And he’s going to teach us how to build our own boat!”

  “Wow!” Orlando said. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

  “Maybe we can find one d
ay a week to go uptown together after school,” suggested Jessie.

  While Aunt Penny made grilled cheese sandwiches and Mr. Beiderman tossed a giant salad, Jessie told Orlando what had happened that morning with her grandma.

  “I don’t know what her problem is,” Jessie told him in hushed tones as she rustled through the utensil drawer for forks. “She’s so critical. We can never be enough for her.”

  “I wonder if something happened to your grandma when she was growing up that made her the way she is,” Orlando said. “Sometimes really critical people are most critical about themselves.”

  Jessie thought about what Orlando said. “I guess that makes sense, but it doesn’t make it any easier to be around her.”

  “I get that,” Orlando said.

  “Do you know where she is?” Jessie asked.

  Orlando shook his head. “I haven’t seen her. Maybe she’s in the bedroom? Your grandfather is outside.”

  Jessie stood up and looked out the back window. Laney was already outside with him, riding her bike around the small yard while the chickens squawked and raced to get out of her way. Grandpa was fixing loose slats on the chicken coop.

  “Now, Grandpa, he’s also a mystery,” Jessie said. “He doesn’t talk much, but it’s like he’s watching and observing everyone so carefully. And he keeps on fixing things around the brownstone.”

  “Sounds like someone else we know,” Orlando said, tilting his head toward the living room, where Hyacinth was sitting on the couch with Franz as she worked on her quilt square.

  “Hey,” Oliver said, nudging Jessie. “We should go do research about Whalers Cove now.”

  “Yeah,” Jessie said, then glanced toward the stairs. “But I also feel like we should do something with Grandma and Grandpa first, since we left them alone this morning.”

  Oliver shrugged. “I guess. But we really do need to find out more about that road trip. His birthday is on Saturday.”

  “We’ll do our research after we spend some time with them,” Jessie said before walking to the kitchen and standing next to Mr. Beiderman, who was shaking up the salad dressing. “Aunt Penny, do you know of anything Grandma would want to do today?”

  “Well,” Aunt Penny said, neatly flipping a grilled cheese sandwich in a frying pan to reveal a beautifully browned piece of bread, “she loves gardening. You remember her beautiful garden back at her house, don’t you?”

  “ I guess I didn’t really notice it the last time we were there,” Jessie said. “Maybe I would appreciate it more now, since we have a garden of our own.”

  “We should take Grandma to the New York Botanical Garden,” Isa suggested.

  “Ugh, no,” Oliver said. “We’re already going on Saturday for Papa’s birthday. It’s so boring there.”

  “That’s an excellent idea,” Mr. Beiderman said, ignoring Oliver. “I might tag along. I haven’t been there in a few months. Maybe Miss Josie will want to go as well.”

  Miss Josie used to work at the New York Botanical Garden. In fact, it was where she met her husband, Mr. Jeet.

  “It would take up the rest of the afternoon,” Oliver groaned.

  “We don’t have to stay that long,” Jessie said. “And it would be a way to care for Grandma.”

  “Okay,” Oliver grumbled. Then he said quietly to Jessie, “I’m just getting worried that we haven’t found Whalers Cove yet.”

  “We’ll spend all evening doing research,” Jessie promised. She climbed the stairs and went down the hallway to knock on her parents’ door.

  “Who is it?” Grandma asked.

  “Jessie.”

  Grandma opened the door. Her expression was carefully blank.

  “Aunt Penny and Mr. Beiderman are almost done making lunch,” Jessie told her. “After we eat, we thought you might want to go to the New York Botanical Garden.”

  Grandma nodded, but her expression remained neutral. “Okay.”

  Jessie smiled at her and they both went downstairs to find everyone grabbing seats and helping themselves to salad and the giant mountain of grilled cheese sandwiches. Lunch was fast, and Jessie could tell that Aunt Penny was once again startled at how quickly the food disappeared.

  “I don’t know how your mother does it,” Aunt Penny said, shaking her head.

  “She’s amazing,” Laney said.

  Jessie noticed that Grandma didn’t say anything.

  Lunch was consumed within a few minutes, and then the Vanderbeekers cleaned quickly so they could get going. Miss Josie did want to go with them, so it was a quite a big group heading to the Metro North station on 125th Street and Park Avenue. It was a beautiful day, though, and everyone was happy to walk.

  Grandma didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk, but everyone else was chatting and laughing, even Hyacinth and Grandpa. Orlando and Miss Josie peppered Aunt Penny with questions about her work at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, while Oliver told Grandpa and Grandma about training with the high school basketball team and Jessie listened in, ready to put a positive spin on it if Grandma began questioning his purpose in life.

  Jessie suppressed a yawn as they arrived at the train station. It sure was exhausting keeping up with everything.

  * * *

  Hyacinth waited with the others as Isa and Aunt Penny went to the ticket counter and purchased eleven round-trip tickets to the New York Botanical Garden. It was a quick ride, only about twenty minutes, and when they got off, they were right across the street from the entrance. Grandma remained pretty quiet during the trip, and even though Hyacinth could sense that she was still upset from the morning, there was some relief that she wasn’t nagging them.

  They first went to the orchid show in the conservatory. As they stepped into the humid building, orchids in all shapes and sizes surrounded them in a riot of color. Hyacinth was stunned by the beauty. Even though she had been to the orchid show each year for the past three years, the exhibits were always slightly different and never failed to fill her with joy. Just looking at the flowers made her want to create something. Meanwhile, Jessie and Orlando examined the orchids and read every single informational placard.

  “‘Orchidaceae is a member of Asparagales, an order of monocotyledonous flowering plants that also includes the asparagus and iris families,’” Orlando read out loud.

  “I had no idea that they’re in the same family as asparagus,” Jessie said. “Fascinating.”

  “Who knew?” Orlando said, as they moved on to the next placard.

  Oliver, who wasn’t a fan of the botanical garden—too boring—walked with Mr. Beiderman and Aunt Penny. While Mr. B chatted with Aunt Penny about his new hobby—making soap sculptures—Oliver entertained himself by making recommendations to Mr. B about what he should make next. So far Oliver had suggested a porcupine and a replica of Michelangelo’s David sculpture.

  Laney was holding hands with Miss Josie, and their heads were close together as they chatted about something. Grandma and Grandpa walked together, their fingers intertwined.

  After they had gone through the entire exhibit, they exited into the open garden. Hyacinth breathed in the summer air, which felt good in her lungs after the humid exhibit. Miss Josie had noticed that Grandma was particularly interested in the Cattleya orchid at the show, a pretty, speckled orchid with delicate petals. They were sold in the gift shop, Miss Josie said, and she thought Grandma might want to take a look.

  They headed toward the gift shop, which was busy with lots of people roaming around. Oliver, Orlando, Jessie, Mr. Beiderman, Aunt Penny, and Grandpa peeked inside the busy store then said they would wait outside. But Hyacinth and Laney wanted to see the orchids, so Isa agreed to bring them in. Miss Josie led Grandma to the room where the live orchids were kept while Isa, Hyacinth, and Laney followed behind.

  It took a while for them to make their way to the orchid area. People clustered around the tables, examining the hundreds of orchids for sale. Hyacinth was wondering if she had enough pocket money to get an orchid of her own when she
saw a tall man bump into Grandma, causing her to stumble into a table holding a display of silk scarves.

  “Excuse me,” Grandma murmured.

  The man looked down at her, and Hyacinth did not like the look on his face. His eyes were squinty and his lips were twisted into a mean smirk.

  “Accuse you?” the man said.

  Grandma just stood there, a polite smile on her lips. “Excuse me, please.”

  “Accuse you please?”

  Miss Josie, who had turned around in time to witness the exchange, marched back to Grandma and stood in front of her like a shield. “She said ‘Excuse me,” Miss Josie said icily. “Now leave her alone.”

  “Yeah,” Laney called from a few yards away. “You bumped into her. You should be saying sorry.”

  Hyacinth wanted to add something, to tell him that he was mean and shouldn’t talk to people like that, but she couldn’t get her mouth to say anything.

  The man shook his head and pointed at Grandma. “I can’t understand a word she’s saying. If you live here, you could speak the language.”

  Miss Josie stood up straighter. “She speaks beautifully. Which is more than I can say about the words coming out of your mouth.”

  People were gathering around them at this point, and Hyacinth noticed that many of them were looking at the man in disapproval.

  “I just want to live in a country where I understand what people are saying,” he muttered as he walked away. “Is that so wrong?”

  At his departure, customers went back to minding their business, and space opened enough for Hyacinth and her sisters to get to Grandma.

  “Are you okay?” Isa asked her.

  “Of course,” Grandma said. “It is not a big deal.”

  “It’s a shame people are so ignorant,” Miss Josie told her. “Don’t spend one second thinking about that guy.”

  Grandma looked at Miss Josie. “Let’s go home,” she said.

  Twenty-One

  When they returned from the New York Botanical Garden, Mr. Beiderman, Miss Josie, and Orlando went upstairs to their apartments and Grandma continued to pretend that nothing had happened. When Isa tried to bring up the scene in the gift shop, Grandma just waved her hand in the air like it didn’t matter.