Here We All Are

by Tomie dePaola

  “You didn’t need to bring bread, Ma, ” Dad said. (It was funny hearing my dad call Nana Fall-River “Ma.”) “We have a really good Italian bakery right on Lewis Avenue—Bonazinga’s.”

  “It’s not-a like-a Marzilli‘s,” Nana Fall-River answered.

  Nana Fall-River also brought all kinds of cookies, which grown-ups liked but we didn’t. They were hard as rocks and had a funny flavor like licorice.

  Oh, brother, I thought. I guess it is spaghetti and tomato sauce for dinner. No meatballs for Buddy and me.

  My mom didn’t even bother to go into the kitchen to help, but my dad went in and put on the white apron that Tom had given him.

  The kitchen was off limits to Buddy and me, so I sat and talked to Cousin Helen about dancing school. She was a lot older than I was and a very good tap dancer. I showed her what I was learning at Miss Leah’s.

  Finally dinner was ready. Nana Fall-River handed me a plate of spaghetti, real thick strands, not thin like Dad always made. This “macarone,” as Nana Fall-River called it, was like the stuff Mom used to make macaroni and cheese. But they weren’t short pieces like Mom’s. They were long, like regular spaghetti, but thick, with big, round holes. My dad called them “sewer pipes.”

  My plate was piled high, but not a meatball in sight.

  “Mangia, mangia—eat, eat,” Nana Fall-River said. So I started in. At least here at 26 Fairmount Avenue I wouldn’t have to clean my plate. In Fall River, my grandmother was the boss and we had to do what she said. Even Mom couldn’t help us when we went to Nana Fall-River’s house. But I knew that Mom would come to the rescue at 26 Fairmount Avenue.

  Buddy dug right in. “He has such a good appetite,” everyone would say.

  I was supposed to be a “picky” eater. The truth is that I liked to eat. I just didn’t like some things. But I liked other things that kids aren’t supposed to like, such as spinach—especially the way Mom cooked it, with lots of butter and a little sprinkling of vinegar.

  A few days later we were coloring eggs for Easter when the phone rang. It was Uncle Nick. Aunt Kate wasn’t feeling so well, so Nana Fall-River wouldn’t be going to the Bronx. She was staying in Meriden for a few more days.

  When Buddy and I woke up on Easter Sunday, we found Easter baskets from the Easter Bunny.

  We got dressed up to go to church. I had a brand-new pair of brown-and-white saddle shoes. Buddy had his first pair of long pants.

  Uncle Charles and his girlfriend, Viva, stopped by with their friend Mickey Lynch. Viva had on a fancy hat. “My Easter bonnet,” she said. Uncle Charles and Mickey Lynch were all dressed up, too. “Because you’ll be staying here for Easter dinner,” Uncle Charles said, “I brought these two presents the Easter Bunny left in Wallingford.”

  He gave us each an enormous chocolate bunny.

  “Aren’t we going to Tom and Nana’s?” I asked.

  “No,” Mom told us. “Nana Fall-River has already cooked a big dinner for us.”

  Oh, well.

  The next day, Mom seemed awfully busy. “I think the new baby will be coming soon,” she told me.

  I took some of the green cellophane grass from my Easter basket. I put a colored egg and a marshmallow on it.

  “For my baby sister,” I said. “The one with a red ribbon in her hair.”

  “We’ll see,” Mom said. “We’ll see.”

  Chapter Eight

  That night while Buddy and I were asleep, Mom and Dad went to the hospital and the baby was born.

  The sun was just coming up when Dad came home and woke me up. “Tomie, you have a new baby sister!”

  I should have been the happiest little boy in the world. But I wasn’t.

  When I got out of bed Mom wasn’t there, but Nana Fall-River was. For breakfast she gave me a piece of Italian bread that she had toasted on top of the stove.

  “Mom gives me Rice Krispies,” I said.

  “This is good,” Nana said.

  “Can I have some butter and jelly on it?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Can I go to Jeannie’s house?” We didn’t have school that week.

  “You stay here.”

  “Can I go out in the yard and play?”

  “No.”

  “Can I listen to the radio?”

  “No.”

  We had a brand-new Zenith radio in the living room, and Mom let me listen to my favorite programs—“Let’s Pretend” and “Jack Armstrong.” It had a round glass dome covering the station numbers and buttons to push to change stations instead of a dial.

  Now Nana wouldn’t even let me listen to the radio.

  I went upstairs to the attic. It was our rainy-day playroom. But it wasn’t raining today.

  I sat on the window seat and looked out. I could see more houses being built. I could see West Peak and the stone tower called Castle Craig. I could see Hemlock Grove, the place where most of the big hemlock trees were knocked down during the Big Hurricane of 1938.

  I stayed up there all day waiting for my dad to come home. It was almost dark when I saw him drive up and park the car. I raced down the attic stairs, then the front stairs, and out the front door.

  I didn’t even let him get inside before I asked, “When is Mom coming home?”

  Before he could answer, Nana called out from the kitchen that supper was on the table. We went in and sat down. More sewer pipes.

  I asked Dad again, “When is Mom coming home?” He started to talk, but Nana interrupted and started spouting in Italian. Then she looked at me and said what she always said: “Mangia, mangia.”

  Something was fishy. After supper I went upstairs and got into bed. Dad came in and sat on the edge of the bed. “Tomie, I know you miss Mom, but she has to stay at the hospital with your baby sister for a little while. Then they will come home together.”

  Then he told me not to talk to Nana about Mom and my baby sister. “Nana’s from the Old Country,” Dad said. “They don’t mention a new baby until it has been taken to the church and baptized.” (That’s when the baby gets its name.)

  So that’s what they had been talking about at supper.

  “When will Mom be coming home?” I asked.

  “In about ten days,” he said. Ten days seemed like forever to me. In those days, mothers spent at least that long in the hospital with their new babies.

  “Can I go and see Mom?” I asked. Dad explained that I couldn’t because children under twelve weren’t allowed in to visit.

  “When is Aunt Nell coming?” I asked.

  “She’s not coming,” Dad said. “Nana Fall-River’s going to stay and take care of you instead.”

  I almost cried. Aunt Nell would have read to me. She wouldn’t have talked to my dad in Italian all the time. And she would have let me talk about Mom and my baby sister. And she would have fed us hamburgers!

  “Now go to sleep and be a good boy,” Dad said.

  But I wasn’t a good boy. I just couldn’t help it. I wouldn’t eat. I wouldn’t sleep. I wouldn’t even go to the bathroom. I just wanted my mom and my new baby sister. And I wanted Nana Fall-River to go home!

  On Saturday Dad took us to Wallingford to visit Tom and my other Nana at their grocery store.

  I told Tom that all I wanted was a hamburger. He made me a cold cut sandwich with mustard and mayonnaise on soft white bread. It was delicious!

  As the week dragged on, I got worse and worse. Mom told me later that every night when Dad went to visit her in the hospital, he’d say, “Guess what Tomie did today?” I was a BIG problem.

  But Mom knew how to solve the “Tomie” problem. I found out the first day we went back to school.

  The hospital was right across the street. As I was walking up King Street on the way home, I heard a voice calling, “Tomie, Tomie, up here. ”

  I looked up and there was my mom, calling to me and waving.

  I waved back. Then I stopped all the kids going by and said, “Look! Look! There’s my mom. We just had a new baby sist
er!”

  Well, Mom talked to me and told me that my baby sister was beautiful and that they would be home soon. She asked me to be a good boy, to help Nana, eat my dinner, and stop causing so much trouble. “And please, go to the bathroom.”

  That was all I needed. I was so happy that I ran all the way home.

  “Nana! Nana Fall-River! I saw Mom and talked to her. She was looking out of the window. She is going to be home soon—with you-know-what! Nana, I’ll be a good boy. Let’s be friends!”

  Nana Fall-River gave me a big hug.

  “My friend!” she said.

  That night I ate all my sewer pipes. I fell asleep and, yes, I even went to the bathroom. Dad was happy, too. And guess what? The next night he cooked hamburgers for Buddy and me.

  Nana Fall-River even ate one!

  Chapter Nine

  Mom was coming home!

  Tom and Nana, Uncle Charles, his girlfriend, Viva, Aunt Nell, Nana Fall-River, and, of course, Buddy were there waiting with me.

  When I heard the car stop in front of the house, I hid behind the big blue chair. Mom came in. “Where’s Tomie?” she asked.

  I jumped out. “Here I am!” I shouted.

  “Come and look,” Mom said.

  There she was. My baby sister with a red ribbon in her hair!

  Mom had made Dad stop at Woolworth’s on the way home to buy the ribbon.

  I got to sit in the armchair and hold the baby very carefully. Nana Fall-River showed me how. It was great!

  My baby sister was going to be given her name at the baptism at St. Joseph’s Church on Sunday afternoon. Her name would be “Maureen.” My mom told me that “Maureen” meant “little Mary.”

  The Irish family baptism gown was taken out of the box in the attic. It was a long white dress with lace and ribbons. There were cotton petticoats and flannel ones, too, and in case it was cold, a little jacket and a bonnet.

  The gown had been made by my great-grandmother, Nana Upstairs, for my mother’s baptism. Then Uncle Charles wore it, then Buddy, then me. Now Maureen would be wearing it.

  In those days, the mothers didn’t go to the church for the baptism. And, of course, no one but me thought it was a good idea for me to go.

  I had been to one baptism when I was a little boy—maybe two years old. My mom and dad were going to be godparents and since NO ONE wanted to baby-sit me (I screamed a lot when my mom wasn’t there), Mom and Dad took me with them. The story goes that I sat there very quietly until the priest poured water on the baby’s head.

  “I want water on my head, too,” I cried.

  The priest said, “Little boy, if you’re quiet you can have anything you want after the ceremony.”

  “Big mistake, Father,” my dad said. I was quiet until the ceremony was over.

  “Now, little boy,” the priest asked, “what would you like?”

  “Baby Jesus,” I answered. I guess I wanted the figure of the Baby Jesus I had seen in the manger scene at Christmas.

  Well, I caused quite a fuss when I didn’t get it. But, the next day, my mom took me to Woolworth’s. They had started putting out the Christmas stuff, so Mom bought me my very own Baby Jesus figure, and I stopped being such a pain.

  So for Maureen’s baptism I had to stay at home with Mom, Nana Fall-River, and Buddy while the godparents—Mickey Lynch and Cousin Helen—went to St. Joseph’s with Dad.

  Relatives and friends started to arrive at 26 Fairmount Avenue—Nana and Tom, Uncle Charles and Viva, Aunt Nell, Cousin Mabel and her husband, Bill Powers, Uncle Nick and Aunt Loretta, Carol Crane and her mother and father, and a bunch of other friends and family.

  We were having a big party. Of course.

  When Cousin Helen and Mickey Lynch came in with baby Maureen, everyone clapped. Nana Fall-River was so relieved, I think. Now she could relax. The baby was baptized.

  “Tomie,” Mom said. “Sit in the blue chair. You’re going to hold your baby sister for the home movie. Remember how?”

  Of course I did!

  I was so proud, and Maureen looked so pretty in her long white dress. I had lots of plans for her.

  Here we all are. Our family is bigger and our house at 26 Fairmount Avenue is much bigger than the old apartment on Columbus Avenue—and much better for new babies, parties, friends, and relatives—and new adventures.

  But more about all that later!

  The End

  Tomie dePaola is known for his popular picture books about his childhood, including Nana Upstairs & Nana Downstairs and The Baby Sister. He is the recipient of a Caldecott Honor and of the Regina Medal. 26 Fairmount Avenue, his first chapter book and the first book in this series, is a Newbery Honor Book.