26 Fairmount Avenue (7 page)

I sure hoped not. I had just found out about guardian angels from Aunt Nell, my grandfather Tom's sister. Aunt Nell told me that if you wanted something really important, you could ask your guardian angel, and as long as it wasn't a bad thing, you'd probably get it. I figured now was the perfect time to talk to my guardian angel.

And guess what! My guardian angel did come to the rescue. The rain stopped. The weather turned cold. Within a week, all that mud on Fairmount Avenue had frozen in place. Cars could go up the street again, and everyone went back to work on the house.

Finally, the inside stairs were built. I could go upstairs and look at the bedrooms. I could go up to the attic. I could go down to the basement to look at the furnace and see where Mom's laundry room would be. Everything was happening quickly now.

“Looks good,” my dad told Buddy and me. “Next time you come here it will be to move in—right after New Year's Eve.”

Chapter Eight

R
ight after New Year's Eve—but first we would have our last Christmas on Columbus Avenue. Dad put up the Santa Claus fireplace for the last time. It was made of cardboard. 26 Fairmount Avenue had a real fireplace. Mom put the cotton snow on top of the Santa Claus fireplace and set up the Christmas village.

We had a manger scene, too.

“Next year,” Mom said, “we'll get a brand-new manger scene with all new figures for our brand-new house.”

On Christmas Eve, the neighbors came by for a party. Mrs. Crane was crying a little. “I'll miss you all next Christmas Eve here on Columbus Avenue.” She sniffed. My dad gave her a hug. Carol Crane said she'd miss me, too. Mom said, “Well, you can just all come up the hill to 26 Fairmount Avenue.”

It was a great Christmas. Santa brought me an Uncle Wiggly game to go with my Uncle Wiggly books. I got a harmonica and a Jeep doll. The Jeep was an animal from the “Popeye” comics. Buddy got a catcher's mitt and a softball. We got lots of other things, too. Carol Crane got an authentic Shirley Temple doll. It was so big and looked so real, I expected it to sing and dance.

On Christmas Day, after church we went to Tom and Nana's house for Christmas dinner. Uncle Charles was there, too, as well as his best friend, Mickey Lynch (we didn't call him Mr.). We had turkey and dressing and gravy.

“Well, Timothy, me bucko (that's what Tom always called me), it won't be long before you're in that nice new house. I'll bet you're excited,” Tom said.

Excited? Tom was right.

On New Year's Eve, my mom and dad got all dressed up like movie stars. Mom had on a long black evening gown,with long gloves and silver shoes. Dad wore a tuxedo with a bow tie. They were going to the Wallingford Elks Club New Year's Eve Dance with Uncle Charles and his girlfriend, Viva. Mr. and Mrs. Crane were going to go, too. Carol was going to stay with Buddy and me.

Althea Morin came down from upstairs to take care of us. We were going to have our own New Year's Eve party.

Mom left us brownies and Cokes in the icebox. Mr. and Mrs. Crane gave us party hats and noisemakers to use at midnight.

“Gee,” Buddy said, “midnight sure takes a long time coming. I'm going to take a nap-after I drink a Coke and eat some brownies.”

Carol, Althea, and I played my new Uncle Wiggly game. We listened to the radio. The doorbell rang, and it was Mr. and Mrs. Morin, Althea's parents, from upstairs. They had a bowl of hot popcorn and some ice cream. “To help celebrate,” Mrs. Morin said. Mr. Morin tuned the radio to a program from a fancy nightclub in New York City. “And now,” the radio announcer said, “for our entertainment, singing his latest hit, the lilting voice of everyone's favorite Irish tenor, Morton Downey.”

Morton Downey was my mom's first cousin. I woke Buddy up.

“Cousin Morton is singing on the radio,” I said.

“So what,” Buddy said. “Let me sleep.”

“You'll miss New Year‘s,” I said.

“I don't care,” he said.

“There's ice cream.”

“Okay,” said Buddy, “I'll get up.”

We put on our party hats, drank Cokes,
and ate popcorn and ice cream. The radio announcer said, “And now to Times Square. Listen to the crowd, folks. Here we go .... Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one—Happy 1940!”

We blew our noisemakers and shouted, “Happy New Year!”

In just a few more days...

Chapter Nine