Two summers ago I met The Penderwicks, a delightful family of four sisters who spent a rollicking summer vacation in Massachusetts.
Last year, I became reacquainted with them as they tried to keep their widowed father from remarrying.
When I got home and realized I’d missed the release of their most recent adventures, I ordered a copy. It arrived Wednesday. I read almost half of it that night. Unfortunately, since then I’ve only had time to read another fifteen pages or so.
Even as I sit here typing, the book is lying beside me on the sofa. Its soft yellow cover with the light blue silhouettes keeps drawing my eyes, and I keep wondering what is going to happen to Skye and Jane and Batty and Jeffrey.
“The girls had never been apart for an entire two weeks, and though all of them were nervous about it, the one going off on her own was the most nervous. This was the oldest, thirteen-year-old Rosalind, and she was having a terrible time accepting that her sisters could survive without her.”
So begins the book. After Rosalind leaves for New Jersey with her best friend, Aunt Claire takes the other sisters to Maine where they stay near the ocean in a little cabin called Birches.
The first day there, Skye gets a thorough wetting in the ocean and loses her precious How To Take Care of Batty list.
The second day, Aunt Claire sprains her ankle and has to go to the hospital, leaving Skye in charge, and Skye does not want to be in charge.
The third day, Jane falls onto the rocks and busts her nose.
I’ve just begun day four, and I wonder what will happen next. There’s a kid named Dominic. I want to know if he’s all “hair and attitude” like Skye thinks he is or if he’s the real life prince that Jane thinks he is. There’s his little sister Mercedes, who seems sweet, if a bit awkward. Then there’s Alec, the next door neighbor; I think I know how he fits in (but I won’t blurt my suspicions here). And the Penderwicks and I just met a bald guy named Turron (again, I have my suspicions).
If you’ve not yet made the acquaintance of the Penderwicks, do yourself a favor: Get hold of a copy of the first book and read it. If you’re not hooked, well, you probably don’t like fiction, and I have absolutely nothing to say to you.
Meanwhile, Skye and Jane and Batty are beckoning me to summer and Maine. I’m going to head there just as soon as I finish this post.
Which is right about…now.