Free Special Delivery by Ann M. Martin Page A

“Catherine.”
    â€œYes. Well, the thing is, I think we’re related.”
    Mary dropped onto one of the kitchen chairs. “Oh,” she said, and her voice came out as a squeak.
    â€œI didn’t mean to take you by surprise, but you did write —”
    â€œYes. Yes, of course.”
    â€œAnd I’m pretty certain that I’m your half sister.”
    â€œMy
half sister
,” Mary repeated. “I thought maybe cousins or …”
    Mary remembered the day the previous summer when she’d found the courage to write the letter. She had recently learned the truth about her father — that he had a sister, for one thing, and more important, that he had not died young, as she had believed for most of her life, but instead had left Mary and her mother and started a new life somewhere far from Camden Falls. Mary had been brought up believing that she had no relatives at all, and then she had discovered that her father had had a sister. That sister might have children — they would be Mary’s cousins. But
this
— a sister of her own — this was more than Mary had hoped for.
    Catherine was speaking again. “I know this must be a shock. Your letter was sent along to me by someone who knew your aunt, our father’s sister, decades ago. Probably fifty years ago. I gather you were trying to find out about your aunt’s family. I’m sorry to tell you that she died in, I think it was nineteen sixty.”
    â€œExcuse me for interrupting,” said Mary, “but I have to ask you this: Did you know that your father — I mean, our father — had been married before?”
    â€œI didn’t find out until after he died,” replied Catherine. “And I had so little information that I didn’t know how to find you. But then you found me.”
    Mary drew in her breath. “Do we have any other sisters or brothers?” she whispered.
    Catherine began to talk again. The minutes ticked by. An hour passed. Mary had a brother. She had nieces and nephews. And she did indeed have cousins as well. The pieces of her life, all the missing pieces, were falling into place. Mary asked questions and Catherine answered them. Catherine asked questions and Mary answered them.
    Catherine lived less than an hour away. Two of Mary’s nephews lived even closer.
    Mary closed her eyes. “Could we meet?” she asked.
    â€œI was hoping you would say that!” exclaimed Catherine. “Yes. Yes, I would very much like to meet.”
    â€œI haven’t left Camden Falls in years,” admitted Mary. “I don’t even have a car. Do you think you could come here?”
    â€œNot only that, I’ll come with my sons, my daughter, and my niece.
And
my granddaughter,” she added proudly. “Ellen Hayley. She’s two months old.”
    â€œGoodness!” said Mary.
    She had never known such a Thanksgiving. When she finally hung up the phone, she wandered into the kitchen and caught sight of the mysterious basket.
    â€œYou brought me luck,” she said to it. “You must be magic.” And for the rest of the day she eyed it both gratefully and suspiciously.

Ruby Northrop woke up on Thanksgiving morning with the uncomfortable feeling that she had forgotten something. Or that she had lost something. She sat up and looked around her room. She didn’t see any schoolbooks, but that was okay because she hadn’t been given any vacation homework. She saw her tap shoes, which was good because they were very expensive and Min had told her that if she lost them again, Ruby would have to replace them herself.
    What could be wrong?
    The answer came to her in the next instant and left a sinking feeling in her stomach.
    She had forgotten to rehearse her solos (the little one
and
the important one) for the Thanksgiving concert. She had missed the final rehearsal and she had forgotten to rehearse on her own.
    â€œOh, well,”