Karen's Grandmothers

  This book is for

  Bethany Buck,

  who helps make Karen come alive

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1 Adopt-a-Grandparent

  2 Karen’s Four Grandmas

  3 Nancy’s No Grandmas

  4 Pen-Pal Grandmother

  5 Grandma B

  6 A Letter for Karen

  7 Grandparents’ Day

  8 Big News

  9 Big Mama

  10 Necklaces and Pencil Cups

  11 Paddington Bear

  12 Adopted Grandchildren

  13 Goblins and Ghosts

  14 Some One Came Knocking

  15 Young and Old

  16 Some One Strange Came Knocking

  17 Ready, Set, Go

  18 “Don’t Be Scared!”

  19 The High Holy Days

  20 Nancy’s Grandmothers

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  Adopt-a-Grandparent

  It was hot, hot, hot in Ms. Colman’s classroom.

  I waited until she turned her back. Then I whispered to Ricky Torres, “Why do we have to start school in September? Why couldn’t we start in October, when it is cooler?”

  “Because,” Ricky replied, glancing at Ms. Colman, “we would have to go to school in July to make up for it.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Then I wish we could have an air conditioner in our classroom.”

  Ricky grinned at me. I like Ricky and he likes me.

  Who am I? I am Karen Brewer. I am seven years old. I go to Stoneybrook Academy with Hannie Papadakis and Nancy Dawes. They are my very best friends. We call ourselves the Three Musketeers. We are all in Ms. Colman’s second-grade class. I wear glasses and have freckles. Once, I broke my wrist.

  It was the end of the day. Everyone in my room was tired. I could tell. But soon we perked up. That was because Ms. Colman said, “Class, I have a special announcement to make.”

  Ms. Colman’s special announcements usually really are pretty special. My friends and I like Ms. Colman. She is full of surprises, and she never yells.

  “How many of you,” began Ms. Colman, “have heard of the Adopt-a-Grandparent program?”

  I looked around the room. Not a single hand was raised.

  “Okay,” said Ms. Colman, “how many of you know what Stoneybrook Manor is?”

  My hand shot up.

  “Karen?” said Ms. Colman.

  “Stoneybrook Manor is a place in town where old people live when they can’t take care of themselves very well anymore.”

  “That’s right,” said Ms. Colman. “And our class has been given a special honor. We’ve been chosen to ‘adopt’ some of the people there. Anyone who is interested will be assigned to a resident. You’ll visit your new ‘grandparent’ twice a week after school. It will mean a lot to the people there. Some of them don’t have any visitors at all. They are very lonely. Who would like to adopt a grandparent?”

  I raised my hand right away. (So did Ricky and Hannie and several other kids, but not Nancy.) Here’s the thing. My parents are divorced. Then they each got married again. So I have four grandmothers — two regular ones, and two stepgrandmothers. If I adopted a fifth grandma, I would break the grandmother record for good!

  “If you would like to talk about this with your friends,” said Ms. Colman, “I will give you ten minutes to do that. You may leave your seats.”

  I jumped up and ran to the back of the classroom to Hannie and Nancy. (We used to sit in the back row together, but Ms. Colman moved me to the front row when I got my glasses.)

  “Nancy,” I said, “don’t you want to adopt a grandmother or grandfather? You don’t have any of your own.”

  “Nope,” replied Nancy.

  “But grandparents are great,” I told her. “They like to give stuff to kids. Adopting a grandparent will be fun. Besides, some of the people in the home are really lonely. They need us.”

  “No,” said Nancy flatly.

  “Well, I want an adopted grandparent,” said Hannie.

  “Good,” I replied. ”So does Ricky. So do a bunch of other kids.”

  When the ten minutes were up, Ms. Colman asked us to sit down again. Then she handed out permission slips to the kids who wanted to adopt grandparents. “A bus will take you to the manor and then pick you up each time you visit,” she told us.

  BRINNNNG! rang the bell.

  School was over.

  I could not wait to tell Mommy that soon I might have five grandmas.

  Karen’s Four Grandmas

  My four grandmothers are named Grandma, Granny, Nannie, and Neena. That can be pretty confusing! Grandma and Neena are my regular grandmothers. Granny and Nannie are my stepgrandmothers. Are you still confused? Okay, I’ll try to explain better.

  When Mommy got married again, she married a man named Seth. Seth is my stepfather. And Granny is Seth’s mother. She lives on a farm in the state of Nebraska, which is far, far away.

  When Daddy got married again, he married a woman named Elizabeth. Elizabeth is my stepmother. And Nannie is her mother. She lives with Elizabeth and Daddy.

  It is a good thing that Daddy has a big house (it is really a mansion) because a lot of other people live in it besides Daddy, Elizabeth, and Nannie. First of all, Elizabeth has four children. They are: Charlie and Sam, who are in high school (Sam is a big tease); Kristy, who is thirteen and the president of a business called the Baby-sitters Club (she is also one of my most favorite people — I love having Kristy for my baby-sitter!); and David Michael, who is seven like I am. He’s in second grade, too, but we go to different schools. Then there is Emily Michelle. Daddy and Elizabeth adopted her. She came from a country called Vietnam. Emily is only two and a half. I named my rat after her. Also at the big house are two pets: One is Shannon, David Michael’s puppy. The other is Boo-Boo, Daddy’s fat, old, mean cat.

  Mommy and Seth have a much smaller house. That is because not so many people live there. There are Mommy and Seth. Oh, and Andrew and me, of course. Andrew is my little brother. He’s four, going on five. Plus, there are three pets at the little house: Emily Junior, my rat; and Rocky and Midgie, Seth’s cat and dog.

  Guess what. Mommy and Daddy both live in Stoneybrook, Connecticut. This is handy for Andrew and me because it means we can spend time with both Mommy and Daddy. Mostly, we live at Mommy’s house. But every other weekend and for two weeks each summer we live at Daddy’s. Since we go back and forth so much, I call my brother and me the two-twos. I am Karen Two-Two, and Andrew is Andrew Two-Two. I got the name from a book Ms. Colman read to our class. It is called Jacob Two-Two Meets the Hooded Fang. Two-Two is a good name for us because we have two of so many things. We have two families and two houses. I have two unicorn shirts, one at each house. I have two bicycles, one at each house. (So does Andrew.) I have two stuffed cats, one at each house. Moosie stays at the big house, Goosie stays at the little house. I even have two best friends. Nancy lives next door to the little house, and Hannie lives across the street from the big house. Being a two-two isn’t always easy, though. I don’t have two of everything, of course. For instance, I only have one pair of roller skates. And for the longest time, I only had one Tickly, my special blanket. When I kept leaving Tickly behind at one house or the other, I finally had to rip my blanket in half. That way, I could have a piece at each house.

  Sometimes being a two-two is fun. Sometimes it is not so much fun.

  But I do like having four grandmas. That is gigundo special. And if I could have a fifth, that would be even better. I did not know anybody else with five grandmas.

  Nancy’s No Grandmas

  Nancy Dawes’s mother drove Nancy and me
home after school. Nancy does not have any brothers or sisters, just her mom and her dad. That is why I wished she would adopt a grandparent. Nancy needs a bigger family.

  As soon as Mrs. Dawes had parked her car in the driveway, I unbuckled my seat belt, said, “Thank you!” and ran home.

  “Mommy?” I called. “Mommy?” I burst through the front door of the little house.

  “Hi, honey!” Mommy replied.

  I found Mommy in the kitchen. She was helping Andrew with a project for school. They were using a lot of glue.

  I pulled my permission slip out of my backpack. I whisked it in front of Mommy.

  “Here,” I said. “I am going to adopt a grandparent. If it is a grandmother, then I will have five grandmas,” I told Mommy proudly. “See? We will go to Stoneybrook Manor two times a week. This is a special honor for the kids in Ms. Colman’s class,” I added.

  “Two afternoons a week?’ said Mommy. “But Karen, you are already very busy. You take art lessons on Wednesdays now, sometimes you meet with your Fun Club, and sometimes you have Krushers practices.” (The Krushers are a softball team that my big sister coaches.)

  “I know,” I said to Mommy. “But I really, really, really want to adopt a grandparent. Especially a grandma.”

  “Even though you’ll be busy two more afternoons each week?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said. I nodded my head firmly.

  “Okay,” said Mommy. She signed my permission slip.

  “Oh, thank you!” I cried. I gave Mommy a gigundo kiss on her forehead. Then I said, “I’m going over to Nancy’s now!”

  “Be home before dinner,” called Mommy, as I ran out the door.

  “I will!” I called back.

  I ran to the Daweses’ and found Nancy in her room.

  “Mommy signed my permission slip,” I announced first thing.

  “Good,” said Nancy. She flopped on her bed.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, sitting next to her.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I think you need a grandma or a grandpa,” I said.

  “No! I do not need one!”

  “Why? Why won’t you go to Stoneybrook Manor?”

  Nancy looked embarrassed. “I am afraid of old people,” she said after a long time. “I don’t have any grandparents.” She paused. “Sometimes I wish I did. But most times, I think I would be afraid of them.”

  “You are not afraid of Nannie,” I pointed out. (Nancy has met Nannie at the big house lots of times.)

  “Nannie does not seem like an old person,” Nancy replied. “She goes bowling. She drives a car. She doesn’t even look old. I am afraid of really old people, and most grandparents are really old.”

  “Why do old people scare you?” I asked.

  Nancy just shrugged.

  After awhile I decided to go home. I was not bored … I was getting an idea.

  Pen-Pal Grandmother

  As I walked back to my house, I thought about Nancy and old people. I wanted to show Nancy that “old” does not mean “bad” or “scary.” Maybe some old people are scary, but most of them are just regular, except that they have wrinkles and gray or white hair — or no hair at all. And some of them can’t walk as fast as younger people. They might even need a wheelchair. But those are not reasons to be afraid of them. Younger people have different colors of hair, too. Sometimes they dye it. And babies can’t walk at all!

  I wished I could find a grandparent for Nancy. That was my idea — to find a grandparent who would not be scary. Now, who could I get? I went to my room to think. Nannie? No. She was too busy. Maybe one of my other grandmas. After all, I had four, and maybe five. I could certainly share one with a friend.

  Then I got one of my best ideas ever. I would write to Granny in Nebraska. Maybe she could be Nancy’s pen-pal grandmother! Nancy would never have to see how old Granny looks. And if she got some special mail, she would feel almost like she really did have a grandma.

  This was perfect. Nancy could have a grandma and she would not feel afraid.

  I ran to my room. I got out a pencil and my stationery. At the top of my stationery it says: XX Kisses From Karen.

  Granny gave it to me.

  I thought for a long time.

  Then I wrote:

  very carefully. Underneath that I wrote:

  Finally I got to the point. I told Granny all about Nancy. I told her that she’s very nice and that she loves to act. I said maybe she would be an actress one day. Then I added that Nancy does not have any brothers or sisters or any grandmas or grandpas. I said I thought Nancy needed a grandma, even though she was scared of old people. I asked if Granny would like to be her pen-pal grandma. I even made a piece of paper that said:

  Under that I drew two boxes. Next to one I wrote YES. Next to the other I wrote NO. I hoped that Granny would check the YES box and send the paper back. When I finished my letter, I sealed it up. I mailed it in the box down the street.

  Grandma B

  It was a big day!

  I was so excited I had butterflies in my stomach all during school.

  Guess what would happen in the afternoon. Hannie and Ricky and I and some other kids would ride a bus to Stoneybrook Manor. We were going to meet our new grandparents for the first time. We were going to adopt them!

  “What do you think our grandparents will be like?” I asked Ricky, as we were finally climbing on the bus.

  “Old,” he answered.

  I giggled. Then I did not feel so nervous.

  The bus rolled through town. I felt very proud of myself. I, Karen Brewer, was going to help an old person. And maybe I would set a new grandmother record!

  When the bus stopped, I looked at Hannie. We were in the parking lot of Stoney-brook Manor. Soon we would be inside!

  Hannie and I stepped off the bus. We held hands. Hannie was nervous.

  “Don’t be afraid,” I whispered to her.

  Ms. Colman and two room mothers were with us. They walked us to the front door of the manor.

  Two old men were sitting outside in wheelchairs. Blankets were tucked around their knees. One was bald. The other had white hair.

  “Look at all the little tots,” cackled one.

  “Ooh, I’m glad Nancy isn’t here,” I said to Hannie.

  A woman met us at the door. She told us her name was Mrs. Fellows. Then she led us inside, down a hallway, and into a large room. Sitting in the room were nine people — five women and four men. Three of them were in wheelchairs. They smiled at us. We smiled back.

  Somehow, I knew that everybody was nervous. Even Ms. Colman.

  Mrs. Fellows began to speak. “Welcome, Ms. Colman’s class,” she said. “I know you are eager to meet your new grandparents, so I will read each of your names and the name of your adopted grandparent right away. Then you can have a chance to get acquainted.”

  Oh, please, please, please let me have another grandmother! I thought.

  And then the lady read my name, Karen Brewer, and the name Esther Barnard. Esther. That’s a woman’s name, isn’t it?

  I looked around the room. A white-haired woman was raising her hand.

  She was not sitting in a wheelchair.

  I ran to her. “Hi!” I said. “I’m Karen, and you are Esther Barnard. Guess what. You are my fifth grandmother!”

  “My goodness,” said Esther Barnard.

  “Guess what else. I have a brother, three stepbrothers, a stepsister, and an adopted sister. Do you have a family?” I asked.

  “Yes, but they live in Chicago,” replied Esther Barnard. “I have two daughters and six grandchildren. Four boys and twin girls.”

  “Twins!” I exclaimed.

  “Do you want to see some pictures?” Esther Barnard pulled a package of photos out of her purse. She showed me everyone in her family and told me about them.

  Then I told her about the people in my two families, but I did not have any pictures with me. Maybe I should start carrying some.

  The hour was ov
er before I knew it. Just as Ms. Colman was saying, “Okay, it’s time to go,” I turned to Esther Barnard.

  “What should I call you?” I asked her.

  “How about Grandma B?” she suggested.

  I grinned. I like that name. “Perfect!” I said. “And you can call me Karen!”

  A Letter for Karen

  When I came home from Stoneybrook Manor, I was feeling very happy. I ran inside my house.

  “Guess what!” I shouted.

  “Indoor voice,” Mommy reminded me. She was reading a story to Andrew.

  I lowered my voice. “Guess what. I have five grandmas now. My new grandma is named Esther Barnard, but I will call her Grandma B.”

  Mommy smiled. Then she said, “You got some mail today, Karen.”

  Me?! I got mail? Kids almost never get mail, except on their birthdays.

  “Where is it?” I cried.

  “On the kitchen table,” said Mommy.

  On the table in the kitchen I found a fat envelope. The return address was Nebraska. It must be from Granny! I opened the envelope nice and slowly so I wouldn’t rip it. Inside I found the “I would like to be a pen-pal grandma” paper with the “YES” box checked, a letter, and another envelope. The second envelope said “Nancy Dawes” on the front. Oh, boy!

  I looked at my own letter. It said, “Dear Karen, It was so nice to hear from you. Thank you for writing!

  “I would love to be your friend’s pen-pal grandma. I think you are doing a very nice thing for her. So I am sending her a letter. You can take it to her and explain who it is from.”

  My idea had worked! I had to get to Nancy’s house right away. I picked up Nancy’s letter from Granny. That was when I realized how fat it was. Granny had sent Nancy more than just a letter. Hmm. What was it?

  There was only one way to find out. I ran the envelope over to Nancy’s.

  “Guess what,” I said to her. Nancy and I sat on her bed.

  “What?” asked Nancy.

  “You have a grandmother now!” I handed Nancy the envelope.