Sunshine Picklelime by Pamela Ferguson Read Free Book Online Page A

tug. Blossom followed him but kept glancing back at PJ.
    “She’s wondering why I don’t ruffle and cuddle her,” PJ said. When they were out of earshot, she added, “I didn’t want to get too close in case she scared Oohoo.” PJ stroked the front of her shirt until she could feel the owl relax and soften against her.
    “Do you sing to Oohoo, PJ?” Mrs. Patel asked. She put down her shears and reached for the bucket.
    “No. She doesn’t react to humming. I just do the deep breathing you taught me.”
    “Keep doing that, PJ, when she’s close to you like this. Remember, if you get agitated, she could try to claw her way out of your shirt. So be careful.”
    PJ smiled. “Thanks, Mrs. Patel, I’ll remember. Bye!” She remounted her bike and headed over to the chocolate shop. Blindfolded, she could easily have found her way through the streets to Ms. Lenz, not just because she loved the route, but because wafts of chocolate got stronger and stronger as she approached, especially when the air was warm.
    Ms. Evi Lenz was in the Dream’s window, adjusting the chocolate fountains. She wore a green apron patterned with dancing goats and milk buckets. She also wore a matching green bandanna around her forehead to keep her cluster of bell-like copper curls from bouncing around her face. Every time she nodded or laughed, PJ heard a tinkling sound from the curls. She waved cheerfully as PJ parked her bike outside and met her at the door.
    “Hi, Ms. Lenz.”
    “Grüezi
, PJ,” she replied. Ms. Lenz always used a friendly Swiss German greeting when she saw PJ. She dropped her eyes and stared at the owl’s ears brushing PJ’s throat and said, “I don’t believe this. You brought Oohoo to see me?”
    PJ undid a few more buttons. Ms. Lenz placed both hands on her knees and leaned over to stare into Oohoo’s eyes. “Wise Oohoo,” she said, “I miss hearing you at night. Come to think of it, I don’t hear any owls at night.” Ms. Lenz rose, turned to PJ, and frowned. “PJ, why are the owls so quiet?”
    PJ was equally puzzled. “I hadn’t noticed. But I’ll stay up late and listen tonight!” she offered.
    Oohoo blinked and then closed her eyes.
    Evi Lenz said, “Hmmm,
she
knows why. She will letyou know in her special way.” Ms. Lenz turned toward a glass-front display cabinet and opened it up at the back. The top shelves were lined with her handmade assorted truffles in dark, milk, and white chocolate. Pralines and the boxed varieties were below. Framed pictures of all her truffle and praline varieties hung on the wall behind her.
    “Oohoo, look what you’re missing!” said PJ, patting the front of her shirt.
    “Oh, wait for the best!” said Ms. Lenz. She reached into the cabinet and removed a small tray of white chocolate truffles lightly sprinkled with tiny slivers of lemon peel.
    “Allllllso,”
she said proudly, “Lemon Nectar … inspired by Mrs. Shanti Patel and PJ Picklelime! Go on, help yourself. Tell me what you think.”
    PJ hesitated. “Shouldn’t Mrs. Patel be here to try it with me?”
    Evi Lenz smiled. “She will come later. Don’t worry, PJ. Best you try them separately so you don’t influence one another. Trust me. I know!”
    PJ reached out and popped a round lemon truffle into her mouth.
    “Let it melt slowly,” Ms. Lenz advised. “Don’t chew.”
    PJ kept the round truffle between her tongue and palate and resisted the temptation to roll it around in her mouth like a fireball. It began to dissolve. Her eyelids fluttered. The intense lemon-flavored center was richer than the Lemon Nectar drink she had concocted with Mrs. Patel that day! She tried to talk, but it came out as a gurgle. She waited a few more minutes, then said, “No way will I brush my teeth tonight. I want to taste lemon when I wake up tomorrow morning!”
    “Now, PJ, don’t go that far!” Ms. Lenz scooped a few of the truffles into a little box patterned with dancing lemons. She closed it with a pretty