Summer Showers

Also by Kate Hannigan

Cupcake Cousins

Text copyright © 2015 by Kate Hannigan
Cover illustrations © 2015 by Brooke Boynton Hughes
Cover design by Whitney Manger
Illustrations copyright © 2015 by Brooke Boynton Hughes

All rights reserved. Published by Disney • Hyperion, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney • Hyperion, 125 West End Avenue, New York, New York 10023.

ISBN 978-1-4847-1946-6

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Publisher’s Note: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written, under adult supervision. The Publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The Publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.

for gabriel and nolan,
philip and jeffrey—sweet williams, all
—k.h.

for laura, julie, and katie
—b.b.h.

Delia stopped pacing across the wide white porch and froze where she was standing. Her ears had finally caught the very particular noise she’d been waiting hours to hear. It was the sound of gravel crunching beneath car wheels. And it meant not one, not two, but three very important things.

“Willow’s here!” she shouted, racing down the steps and into the yard. “They’re all here! We can start summer vacation now!”

Delia’s parents, Delvan and Deenie Dees, appeared in the yard, waving as three cars pulled over to the parking area beneath the tall pine trees.

One car was holding Willow, along with the rest of the Sweeney family. Another car belonged to Grandma and Grandpa Bumpus, who Delia loved like crazy too. And the third carried Aunt Rosie and Jonathan—Uncle Jonathan, Delia had to remind herself—who were going to have a baby soon.

Rosie and Jonathan were the big reason the family was getting together so early in the summer. And big barely described it.

Delia took one look at her aunt’s beach-ball belly and could hardly find the right words. It was enormous. Tremendous. HUMONGOUS! It was so big in fact that the doctor said Aunt Rosie was going to have her baby early, which was why the shower was moved up to Saturday—just three days away.

Aunt Rosie heaved a heavy sigh as she tried to pull herself out of the car. Finally, she gave up and reached out her arms for help. Delia’s dad took hold and gently tugged her from the front seat.

“I can’t wait to meet our new cousin,” Delia said, stepping over and giving Aunt Rosie a hug. Or it was more like she tried to give her a hug, but Aunt Rosie’s belly got in the way. “We’ll show her everything about Whispering Pines. The hummingbirds and fireflies, blueberry bushes and the dunes on the beach!”

“What makes you think this baby is a girl?” asked Aunt Rosie with a grin.

“Could be a boy,” added Uncle Jonathan, who had come around the car and was beside her now. “We’re not telling anybody anything!”

Delia begged to be in on their secret. But Aunt Rosie and Uncle Jonathan just made zipping motions over their lips. They wanted to surprise the whole family once the baby was born.

“The Chicago caravan made it,” called Delia’s mom as family spilled out onto the lawn. “I’m so glad you all came together.”

“We wanted to be there in case Rosie had her baby on the way,” said Willow’s mom, Aunt Aggie Sweeney. And she threw her arms around Delia’s mother. Delia greeted her next, careful not to get poked by one of the pencils that were always tucked in Aunt Aggie’s hair.

“Deeee-lia!” came a shout. “Where are you?”

While Delia loved thinking about the newest cousin who would join the Bumpus family, she couldn’t forget her favorite one. She raced past Grandma and Grandpa in their floppy sun hats, planting quick pecks on their cheeks as she darted by. She zigzagged around Willow’s big sister, Violet, who had moments of being fun but was mostly crabby. Delia figured that’s what made her a perfect match for her own big sister, Darlene, who was chewing bubble gum beside her.

Then she weaved her way past her little cousin, Sweet William, and the Sweeney family dog, Bernice, an enormous Bernese mountain dog that Delia considered a cousin, too. Only hairy and with a drooling problem, but just as wonderful.

“We’re happy to be out of the car,” Sweet William announced, hopping up and down like a frog with Bernice. Delia did a quick frog hop herself, since she was happy they were out of the car too. In fact, everybody seemed excited to be in Saugatuck, stretching their legs beneath the tall trees and breathing in the fresh lake air.

When Delia finally spotted copper curls and a polka-dotted bag, she wanted to laugh and sing and whoop all at the same time.

“Willow! I’m right here!” she called, waving.

And Delia started to launch into a flying hug. But catching sight of a white bandage on Willow’s hand, she stopped short. “What happened?”

Willow shrugged and tried to push the hair out of her eyes. But her bandage—layers of gauze wrapped around a thin splint that held the pinkie, ring, and tall-guy fingers on Willow’s right hand—made that difficult. So Delia reached over and helped.

“I did it in karate class,” Willow explained, holding up her injured hand and studying it. “You might not guess from the way my fingers look, but I broke the board.”

Willow was beaming, and that made Delia smile just as broadly. There was always something about Willow that made Delia feel fizzy inside, like she was on the verge of laughing. And suddenly they tumbled onto the lawn as they always did, chittering and rolling and carrying on like a couple of happy squirrels. How else was summer vacation supposed to start?

“Some things never change,” came a voice from above them. And Delia didn’t even have to look up to know that Darlene and Violet were standing there. “You two might have saved Aunt Rosie’s wedding cake last summer, but you’re still just a couple of silly flower girls.”

“Make that flour girls,” said Willow. “You know, the cooking kind.” And that made Delia laugh all over again.

With their sunglasses low on their noses, the big sisters rolled their eyes to the leafy green treetops. Darlene let out a pfff like a teakettle, and Violet adjusted the strap of a bulky bag over her shoulder—Delia thought it was shaped like a miniature guitar. And together they trudged off toward the rest of the family like they had important business to attend to.

“I can’t wait to hear you play your ukulele,” Delia overheard her sister telling Violet. “Maybe we can perform for customers at the café. With you on the strings and me singing, we could be a great duo. We’ll have to come up with a catchy name!”

Now it was Willow and Delia’s turn for eye rolling.

They helped each other to their feet, standing in the center of the yards that connected Whispering Pines Bed & Breakfast with Delia’s new home next door. Last year they’d called that droopy house the old Sutherland place, but now it was the Arts & Eats Café, a name she and Willow had helped pick.

Willow dropped her bag in the grass, and the two cousins kicked off their sandals and slipped onto the lowest branches of a nearby tree. They were high enough to take in the view of Lake Michigan spreading out in endless blue beyond the green lawn.

“Can you get any higher with your hand like that?” asked Delia, making room on a wide bough just above Willow.

Holding on with her left hand, Willow swung her legs onto Delia’s branch and hung upside down. Her long curls sprang from her head like Slinky toys.

“It’s fine,” Willow said, adjusting the gauze around her injured fingers. “It hurt Monday when I did it. But it’s been a couple days already, so it’s no big deal.”

Birds high overhead began chirping and chatting, almost as much as the cousins perched below. Delia told Willow about her new school, as well as her new house, new friends, new everything since they’d left Detroit.

“See the sign over there in the front yard?” she asked, hooking her legs and dangling upside down beside Willow. She pointed off toward the yellow house, where the funky ARTS & EATS CAFÉ sign swung in the breeze. “It’s made of glass and rocks and paintbrushes. My mom and I put it together.”

Delia watched her mom and Aunt Aggie slowly climb the café steps, Aunt Rosie and her beach-ball belly between them.

“I can’t believe how big Aunt Rosie is,” Willow said, pulling herself upright on the branch. “It’s a little creepy, don’t you think? The whole baby thing?”

“What do you mean, Willow? We’re going to have a new cousin any day now!”

Willow said she was excited about a cousin, just not the baby part. “It’s like she swallowed a watermelon—whole!”

Willow shuddered, which made Delia laugh. She told Willow how much fun the baby shower was going to be with everyone in town to celebrate. It was just a few days away, and there would be lots of presents and people and good food.

“I’ve been thinking about Aunt Rosie’s party too,” Willow said, dropping out of the tree onto the cushiony grass. “I hope we can find a way to do something special for it.”

Delia slid down from the branch. With Willow’s hand injured, would she still be able to use a spatula? Operate a mixer? Hold on to a measuring cup? Delia didn’t want to hurt Willow’s feelings, but she had to ask: “Can you even cook?”

“The only thing that’s tricky is cracking eggs,” Willow said. “But my dad taught me how to do that with my left hand. So we can still bake as much as we want this summer.”

Delia was relieved to hear it. Because of all the things she loved about her new life here along the water, her absolute-very-best-most-favorite-number-one thing was still the same: being in the Whispering Pines kitchen with Willow.

“I like the idea of helping with Aunt Rosie’s shower,” Delia said as patches of sunlight played hopscotch on the grass. “And I want to help out with the new café too—I have a little plan for that.”

She paused, thinking about telling Willow more. But there would be time later—maybe after dinner, when the sun was setting. Now was the time to talk about all the fun they would have together, not for what might happen if Delia had to move again.

“Let’s make sure this summer is different from last year’s,” she said with a smile. “And that means no confusing the ingredients, no hungry dogs alone with bacon, and no exploding blenders!”

“It’s a deal,” Willow said, her whole body bouncing in excitement.

And they shook on it. Though with Willow’s injured fingers, they had to use their left hands.

Delia looked into her cousin’s happy face and felt that same fizzy urge to laugh again. Putting her worries aside, she grinned right back at Willow. “This summer, there’s nothing we can’t do!”

There’s nothing she can do with that hand,” Willow’s mom was saying, “except let it heal. It’s such a shame it happened right at the start of summer, too.”

The cousins were wandering around Delia’s new backyard now. Delia had just bent down to scratch Bernice’s ears when she overheard the grown-ups talking. Willow was a few steps behind her, looking at a worm Sweet William found. What did Aunt Aggie mean about Willow’s hand? Was she supposed to stay out of the kitchen this week? How was that even possible?

“I agree,” said Delia’s mom, who was a nurse at the nearby hospital. “I took a look at her fingers, and I don’t think the girls will be able to do much in the kitchen this summer until that bandage and splint come off. It’s too bad.”

The three sisters were seated on the café’s back porch, propping up Aunt Rosie’s swollen feet. But as Willow got closer, Delia decided to point her away from the porch and toward the bluff, where she wouldn’t overhear the grown-ups’ conversation.

The cousins had already explored the grounds over at Whispering Pines—starting with Mr. Henry’s hobby shed and Cat’s vegetable garden. Henry Rickles was the owner of Whispering Pines Bed & Breakfast. But since the whole Bumpus family had been coming here every summer since Delia’s mom, Aunt Aggie, and Aunt Rosie were babies, Mr. Henry was more like family. And now that he and Catherine Sutherland, the Whispering Pines caterer, were going to get married, suddenly Cat was family, too.

“Where did the fence go?” asked Willow as they walked along where the two yards met.

“Mr. Henry took it down,” Delia explained. “He didn’t want anything coming between him and Cat.”

“So she’s living with you guys in the yellow house?” wondered Willow.

“She’s on the top floor,” Delia explained, stopping to examine a bluish-black butterfly that had landed nearby. “But it’s just until their wedding—at Christmas or New Year’s or something. Then she’ll move over to Whispering Pines.”

They crossed toward the blueberry bushes on the far side of Delia’s property, peeking deep into shrubs along the way in search of hummingbird nests. Standing along the bluff’s edge, they looked down at the waves below and tried not to get dizzy. Delia picked cherries off a fruit tree Grandma had rescued near the house.

“Here, catch,” she said, tossing a cherry in Willow’s direction.

“Thanks,” Willow said, catching it expertly with her good hand.

Delia couldn’t help but smile. Willow’s right hand might need a rest, but she could still do plenty of things with her left one.

Delia didn’t doubt her cousin for even a moment. Why should she?

“Come on, I can’t wait to show you the new kitchen,” she said, looping arms with Willow and setting off for the pretty yellow porch. With her cousin finally here for the next week, it really felt like summer vacation. “Maybe we can make some chocolate brownies? Or carrot cake with veggies from Cat’s garden?”

Delia was proud of the way the old Sutherland house was coming along. It used to look run-down and a little spooky when Cat was trying to take care of things on her own. Now, with her parents and Cat working together to replace the old wood and put on a fresh coat of paint, it was like a whole new place. They had turned the downstairs into an art gallery for Delia’s dad and a café for Cat. And since her family had moved in upstairs, well, the yellow house seemed just about perfect to Delia.

“You don’t have to worry about these stairs anymore,” she said brightly. And she felt a little bounce in her step like Willow as she climbed the wooden porch stairs. Just last summer, they were broken and dangerous.

Waving as they passed the three aunts, Delia turned the knob and led Willow into the big living room. It served as the main gallery of the Arts & Eats Café, and her dad’s artwork was hanging everywhere. When Willow had come for a quick visit months ago, the house was still being repaired. But finally, thankfully, the remodeling was complete.

“Ta-da!” Delia said with a smile.