Just Plain Al: The Al Series, Book Five by Constance C. Greene Read Free Book Online

my mother and back to me. She knew something was up.
    â€œYou’re invited to a birthday party here, Saturday night,” my mother told Al. “Just tell us whom you’d like to invite, and we’ll invite them.”
    â€œWell.” Al was flabbergasted, knocked out of her socks. I’d never seen her like this before and found it a real treat. She didn’t know what to say.
    â€œThat’s very nice of you,” she settled on at last. “But won’t it be a lot of trouble?”
    â€œEveryone will pitch in,” my mother said, in a soothing tone.
    They will? My father could push the vacuum and Teddy could get down on his knees and attack the ring in the bathtub, a first for that little creep. My mother and I would prepare the food. Neato.
    â€œTell your mother I’ll call her tonight,” my mother told Al, “and let her know the plans. Better still, have her call me when she gets in, if she’s not too tired.”
    Al and I zapped into my room for privacy.
    â€œWe were going to have it be a surprise,” I said, “but I figured you’d freak out if we jumped out at you.”
    â€œI would have died,” Al said. “I’m not up for surprises. What will I wear? I have nothing to wear!”
    That’s just what you get for giving away your worldly goods, I thought, but did not say.
    â€œJust wear any old thing. Your denim skirt would be great with that nice blouse you have,” I told her. “It doesn’t matter.”
    â€œYes, it does. If your mother’s throwing me a party, I owe her the courtesy of dressing up,” Al said solemnly.
    â€œYou know what?”
    â€œNo, what?”
    â€œFor a minute there, I thought your mother had snuck in. I thought it was your mother saying what you just said. You sounded just like her.”
    â€œYikes!” Al clutched her head. “What a terrible thing to say!”

chapter 9
    â€œHello, Daddy.” My mother was on the horn, talking to her father. They talk a couple of times a week. My grandfather lives alone. My mother worries about him being lonely. My father says how can he be lonely with all those luscious ladies inviting him for potluck?
    â€œYou’d think he was rich,” my father teases my mother. “Maybe he better let those gals know he’s not. I wish your father would let me in on his secret.” My grandfather has the reputation of being a ladies’ man.
    My grandmother died when I was five months old. My mother says I was a great comfort to her after her mother died. She’d hold me and walk around the apartment with me in her arms, and it made her feel better, she says. Less sad.
    â€œA baby is a lovely thing,” my mother told me, “especially when someone you love very much dies. A baby is a new soul, a fresh new soul to take the place of the person who’s died.” I like that idea.
    When she tells what a comfort I was to her when I was five months old, Teddy gets very jealous. He wants to know why she couldn’t have held him to make her feel better. The fact that he wasn’t born yet doesn’t seem to occur to him. I hope Teddy gets smarter as he gets older, the way you’re supposed to, but I wouldn’t put any money on it.
    â€œWe’re having a birthday party for Al on Saturday,” I heard her say. “You remember Al, don’t you? Yes, that’s the one. Well, she’s going to be fourteen so we thought … yes, why, that would be wonderful. I’m sure the girls would love it. It starts at seven. Grand. Goodbye, darling.” My mother calls her father Daddy and darling. I like to hear her call him things like that. I think when I’m middle-aged and my father is old, I’ll do the same.
    â€œAmazing!” my mother said when she’d hung up. “Absolutely amazing. Grandfather wants to come to Al’s party.”
    â€œHe’s not bringing Mrs. Oakley, is