The Great Peach Experiment 1 Erin Downing (spicy books to read .TXT) 📖

on the stuff we’re each best at, right? I’m great at customer service, Herb always has a positive attitude and handles the math, Lucy makes the best pies—”

Dad cut him off, glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall. “What’s your point, Freddy?” He sighed. “I obviously don’t have much of a choice here.”

Freddy crossed his arms. “My point is, you’re the one who told us the Great Peach Experiment was a family project. The goal of this summer was to experiment with something big, something Mom would have been proud to be a part of. You also told us, many times over the past few weeks, that we’d never succeed if we didn’t all do our part.” He shrugged. “You do have a choice, Dad. And I think you’re making the wrong one. Ever since Mom died, you’ve always made the wrong decisions when it comes to us. But a few days ago, when we left Ohio, we all thought things were finally going to be different.”

“I don’t think you get it,” Dad said. “This is the real world, Freddy. It’s my life.”

“So are we.” Freddy shrugged. He’d made his point. Though he didn’t want to, he knew when there was no other option but to give up and move on. So he turned and plodded back down the hall to Lucy’s bedroom.

Propped up against the pillows in her big, cozy bed, Lucy opened her arms and drew Freddy in beside her. A few minutes later, Herb joined them, and together, the three of them watched out the window as clusters of white, fluffy clouds gathered in the sky over the glittering, sapphire-blue ocean.

Freddy snuggled in with his siblings, thinking about how lucky it was that at least they had each other.

A few hours later, Dad came into Lucy’s room, carrying a tray filled with glasses of lemonade and a bowl full of berries. Freddy and his siblings had done nothing to get ready to leave, and Dad hadn’t asked them to. Freddy knew they would need to head to the airport very soon if they had any hope of making a four o’clock flight back to Minneapolis. “Hungry?” Dad asked, offering them all a small smile.

Lucy set down their tattered copy of The Penderwicks. They’d finally reached the last chapter, and Herb squirmed to show his frustration at having to put the book down.

Dad set the tray on the edge of the bed and settled in beside it. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what?” Freddy asked.

“For even considering leaving, earlier this morning,” Dad said. “For that, and for everything I’ve put you kids through the past few years. I’ve done a lot of thinking this morning, and I realize I owe you all a major apology.”

Lucy folded the corner of the page and closed the book, refusing to look at their dad. She didn’t say anything, but Freddy could tell she was listening.

“Lucy,” Dad began, “you’ve been picking up my slack for far too long, and it’s obvious that I have a lot to learn from you. I’m working on it. But I’m going to need your help figuring things out.” He ran a hand through his thinning hair. “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done to step up and help manage this household the past couple years. Now, will you help me help you?”

Lucy nodded solemnly. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask,” Dad said with a smile. “That’s what I’m doing, too. I’m not always going to be perfect, but I promise to try to do my best.”

Dad put his hand on Freddy’s bare knee. “Freddy, I know how hard you’ve been working all summer to try to make sure this crazy, harebrained experiment of ours will succeed. You’re so much like your mom, and it’s been really exciting to watch you blossom, doing something you’re obviously very skilled at. It’s fun to see you in your element.”

Freddy giggled and coughed at the same time. He couldn’t help it. What his Dad had said was so nice, and it felt wonderful to get a compliment like that, but it was also so goofy. So a whole bunch of feelings just sort of bubbled up and out of him.

“I’m sorry I was prepared to walk out on this time together that matters so much to everyone,” Dad said. “I want to make sure you all know that our family matters to me, too. More than anything. The past few weeks have been very special to me, and I don’t want any of you to think otherwise. I know I don’t always get my priorities straight, but I’m trying to fix that.”

Next, Dad smoothed Herb’s hair and said, “And you, Herbie: you’ve surprised me with how patient and optimistic and helpful you’ve been all summer. You took such good care of those mice, and you’ve proven time and again what a mature and capable kid you’ve become.” Herb thrust out his chin proudly as Dad went on, “I’m sorry I haven’t given you more chances to be an active part of this family. It’s just hard for me to remember, sometimes, how big you’ve gotten.”

“I wear a size three shoe now,” Herb said in response. Then he plucked a berry out of the bowl and took a tiny sip of lemonade out of one of the tall glasses.

Dad laughed. “Good to know.”

“So…,” Freddy said, scrunching his lips together, “you’re staying?”

“I’m staying,” Dad said.

“And you won’t get fired or anything, because you’re not going back to work?” Freddy clarified.

“I definitely won’t get fired,” Dad said, chuckling. “In fact, I think it’s good for me to start to set some clear boundaries. My colleagues need to understand that my family comes first. Always.”

“So we don’t have to pack up and leave yet?” Freddy said, lifting his eyebrows.

“Not until we’re good and ready,” Dad said.

“Great. Now, while I have your attention,” Freddy said, deciding that this was as good a time as any to bring up his latest idea. “I was thinking: