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Text copyright © 2021 by Erin Soderberg Downing

All rights reserved. Pixel+Ink is a division of TGM Development Corp.

Book design and interior illustrations by Michelle Cunningham

Freddy’s artwork by Henry Downing

www.pixelandinkbooks.com

First Edition

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020940463

Hardcover ISBN 978-1-64595-034-9

eBook ISBN 978-1-64595-060-8

Ebook ISBN 9781645950608

Erin Soderberg Downing is a fiscal year 2020 recipient of an Artist Initiative grant from the Minnesota State Arts Board. This activity is made possible by the voters of Minnesota through a grant from the Minnesota State Arts Board, thanks to a legislative appropriation by the Minnesota State Legislature; and by a grant from the National Endowment for the Arts.

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For my incredible kids,

who are always up for adventure

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

1: The Problem with Peaches

2: The Plan

3: Pie for Breakfast

4: Hidden Treasure

5: The Final Details

6: Betty’s Pies

7: Truck Trouble

8: Herb’s Collection

9: People-Watching

10: Peach Power

11: Peach Shortage

12: Moving On

13: World’s Smallest Pool

14: Music Festival Finds & Friends

15: Eating Profits

16: Restless Herb

17: Chicago Characters

18: Late-Night Revelations

19: Happy Campground

20: Dad’s Plan

21: Herb’s Decision

22: Keep on Truckin’

23: Peach on the Beach

24: Change in Plans

25: Operation Herbie Peach!

26: The Final Slice

27: Changing Luck

Author’s Note

1

  THE PROBLEM WITH PEACHES

Lucy Peach needed a new last name. Peach just wasn’t working for her anymore. The problem with peaches, she’d come to realize, is they were too soft. Often, the sweet, fuzzy fruit appeared perfect on the outside—but when you bit into one, it surprised you with a mouthful of mushed-up mess. Lucy Watermelon would be a better fit, perhaps. Watermelons were tougher.

Twelve-year-old Lucy was busy pondering this and other important matters—such as which book she would dive into first on Saturday, the first day of summer break—when she heard a clank and a screech, followed by a whole lot of noisy clatter. The sound had come from somewhere outside.

Most of the time, noises like this could be attributed to one of Lucy’s two younger brothers. Ten-year-old Freddy loved creating enormous art projects, which often resulted in very messy—and sometimes loud—disasters. But with a sound like this, Lucy would put her money on the youngest Peach: Herb. Over the past few years, eight-year-old Herb had built up a huge pile of stuff in the garage. Lucy had warned him time and again that it was just a matter of time before it toppled over. She had a sinking suspicion today was that day.

Lucy crawled out of the pillow-stuffed reading fort she’d set up inside her bedroom closet and raced outside to fix whatever disaster needed fixing. Ever since their mom had died nearly two years before, this was Lucy’s responsibility: she was the fixer. That’s why Peach simply didn’t cut it anymore…. It was Lucy’s job to be tough, with a thick skin.

Outside, she was surprised to find both Freddy and Herb standing at the edge of the family’s postage stamp–sized front lawn. She joined her brothers, and all three kids stared in wonder as a massive, bright orange truck backed up their slim driveway. The truck had knocked over the family’s recycling bin, and cans and bottles were scattered everywhere. That, Lucy realized, explained the clatter.

Their dad, Walter, stood waiting at the foot of the driveway, rubbing his hands together like the slightly mad scientist he was. “Isn’t she a beauty?” Dad asked, waving his arm toward the giant beast of a truck.

“A beauty!” Herb echoed.

“What is it?” Lucy asked, reaching down to start gathering up the spilled recycling. She neatly piled the cans and bottles on the lawn, to get them out of the way until she could return them to the bin.

“It’s a food truck,” Dad said, as if that explained everything.

“Are we throwing a party?” Freddy asked, his eyes wide with excitement. Then, as always, Lucy’s middle brother couldn’t resist sharing a few random fun facts. “You can hire a food truck to cater pretty much any kind of event. I saw a show about food trucks, and there’s one that makes cotton candy on the spot. There’s also a truck that serves food made out of meat that would otherwise go to waste—like pigeons and animal feet and other nasty stuff like that. Oh! And there’s another one that sells fugu!”

“What’s fugu?” little Herb asked, as though that were the most pressing question at the moment.

“Puffer fish. If it’s not prepared correctly, you can die from eating it,” Freddy informed him.

Dad chuckled. “Very interesting, Freddy. But no, we’re not having a party. And we’re definitely not eating fugu.”

“Dad,” Lucy said seriously, “why is there a food truck in our driveway?”

Walter Peach put on a wobbly smile and gestured to the giant vehicle. “She’s all ours.”

“This food truck…,” Lucy began, feeling a nervous lump form in her stomach, “is ours?”

“That’s right,” Dad said. “This summer, the Peaches are going to set out to explore the country!”

Lucy closed her eyes and drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, Dad,” she said. Their father had done a lot of strange, frustrating, and irresponsible things over the past few years. But this was a new level of crazy. Lucy asked, “In a…food truck? Why?”

“Traveling the country in a food truck was one of your mother’s big dreams,” Dad explained. “And an adventure like this will be a wonderful way to honor her memory.”

“How are we supposed to pay for this?” she asked.

Dad gave Lucy a secretive smile. It was the kind of smile that made her more than a little worried. “I’ve been sitting on some big news,” he said. “Very big news.”

Next to Lucy, hopeful Herb wiggled in anticipation. Freddy rubbed his hands together. Lucy hated seeing her brothers get excited about things she knew were certain to fall apart.

“Kids, one of your mother’s inventions has sold,” Dad finally announced.

Lucy gawped at him. Before she died, their mom, Madeline, had worked as a chemist. She’d invented many things, but none of those things had ever amounted to much. Yet Mom had

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