be pleasantly surprised, Mary.”
Mrs. Stanton frowned. “I don’t know, Robert. How would they know where I wanted everything? I mean, really …”
Jim’s father led the way to the front door and unlocked it. He pushed it open and let his family walk in first.
“Wow!” Laura skipped around the room. “Look at all the brand-new furniture.”
Jim took his cap off and ran his hand through his hair. “You must have the wrong house, Dad. This isn’t our stuff.”
“It is now. The company took care of it. They put all our old things in storage.” Dr. Stanton waved his hand. “All this is ours.”
“Does that go for the kitchen too?” Mrs.Stanton yelled from the next room. “All the dishes and pans are brand new.”
Jim’s father grinned. “Wait till you see the bedrooms.”
Laura and Jim looked at each other and then raced up the stairs. Jim pushed open the first door on the left. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Signed pictures of major-league baseball stars covered the walls. The furniture was dark oak. It all looked like something out of an expensive catalog. There were even clothes in the closets and drawers.
The walls of Laura’s room were painted her favorite color—pink. Her bedroom set was white. In the center of the large canopy bed was a big, beautiful doll with long golden curls. Jim stood in the doorway and watched Laura timidly step toward the bed. She stopped and glanced back at him.
He rolled his eyes. “Pick it up, stupid. They put it there for you.”
That was all she needed to hear. She ran to the bed and cradled the doll in her arms.
Jim walked back to his room and plopped down on the bed. He grudgingly lookedaround. The bedroom was twice as big as his old one.
His mother’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Jim! Laura! Come down here. We have visitors.”
C HAPTER 3
Jim slid down the banister with Laura giggling and racing close behind him. When they reached the bottom they saw a woman and two kids, a boy about Jim’s age and a little girl, standing stiffly in the living room and staring at them.
“This is Mrs. Tyler.” Mrs. Stanton gestured toward the petite, well-dressed woman, who was holding a platter of cookies. “And these are her children, William and Karen.”
“Please. Just call me Marcia,” the woman said in a nervous, bubbly voice. She handed the platter to Mrs. Stanton. “These are foryou. It’s our way of saying welcome to the company.”
The boy put his hand out to Jim. He smiled, but it was an odd smile, artificial and definitely not friendly. “We are very glad to have you here.”
Jim shook the clammy hand and looked the boy up and down. He was wearing dress pants, a white starched shirt, and polished shoes. “Thanks, William. Hey, could you show me around town?”
The boy dropped Jim’s hand and looked anxiously up at his mother. The woman put her arm around her son’s shoulders. “I’m afraid not. Perhaps later … you know, when you’ve been here longer.” She propelled the two children toward the door.
“Won’t you stay and have a glass of iced tea or something?” Jim’s mother asked.
The woman kept moving. “Thank you, no. We were instructed—that is, we were chosen—to welcome you and then let you get on with your day. It was so nice to meet you all. Goodbye!” She pulled the door shut behind her.
Jim’s father raised one eyebrow. “Strange woman.”
“She might be strange, but boy, can she cook! Taste one of these.” Laura held up one of the small white cookies. It had a perfect red rosette in the center.
“Be careful, Laura, they probably have some kind of poison in them.” Jim sat down on the arm of the new couch. “I hope everybody in this town isn’t as weird as they are.” He leaned back and sighed. “Did you see how that William was dressed, and what happened when I asked him to show me around?”
Jim’s father hesitated, thinking; then he shrugged. “Why don’t you go out and see the neighborhood
Mrs. Stanton frowned. “I don’t know, Robert. How would they know where I wanted everything? I mean, really …”
Jim’s father led the way to the front door and unlocked it. He pushed it open and let his family walk in first.
“Wow!” Laura skipped around the room. “Look at all the brand-new furniture.”
Jim took his cap off and ran his hand through his hair. “You must have the wrong house, Dad. This isn’t our stuff.”
“It is now. The company took care of it. They put all our old things in storage.” Dr. Stanton waved his hand. “All this is ours.”
“Does that go for the kitchen too?” Mrs.Stanton yelled from the next room. “All the dishes and pans are brand new.”
Jim’s father grinned. “Wait till you see the bedrooms.”
Laura and Jim looked at each other and then raced up the stairs. Jim pushed open the first door on the left. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Signed pictures of major-league baseball stars covered the walls. The furniture was dark oak. It all looked like something out of an expensive catalog. There were even clothes in the closets and drawers.
The walls of Laura’s room were painted her favorite color—pink. Her bedroom set was white. In the center of the large canopy bed was a big, beautiful doll with long golden curls. Jim stood in the doorway and watched Laura timidly step toward the bed. She stopped and glanced back at him.
He rolled his eyes. “Pick it up, stupid. They put it there for you.”
That was all she needed to hear. She ran to the bed and cradled the doll in her arms.
Jim walked back to his room and plopped down on the bed. He grudgingly lookedaround. The bedroom was twice as big as his old one.
His mother’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Jim! Laura! Come down here. We have visitors.”
C HAPTER 3
Jim slid down the banister with Laura giggling and racing close behind him. When they reached the bottom they saw a woman and two kids, a boy about Jim’s age and a little girl, standing stiffly in the living room and staring at them.
“This is Mrs. Tyler.” Mrs. Stanton gestured toward the petite, well-dressed woman, who was holding a platter of cookies. “And these are her children, William and Karen.”
“Please. Just call me Marcia,” the woman said in a nervous, bubbly voice. She handed the platter to Mrs. Stanton. “These are foryou. It’s our way of saying welcome to the company.”
The boy put his hand out to Jim. He smiled, but it was an odd smile, artificial and definitely not friendly. “We are very glad to have you here.”
Jim shook the clammy hand and looked the boy up and down. He was wearing dress pants, a white starched shirt, and polished shoes. “Thanks, William. Hey, could you show me around town?”
The boy dropped Jim’s hand and looked anxiously up at his mother. The woman put her arm around her son’s shoulders. “I’m afraid not. Perhaps later … you know, when you’ve been here longer.” She propelled the two children toward the door.
“Won’t you stay and have a glass of iced tea or something?” Jim’s mother asked.
The woman kept moving. “Thank you, no. We were instructed—that is, we were chosen—to welcome you and then let you get on with your day. It was so nice to meet you all. Goodbye!” She pulled the door shut behind her.
Jim’s father raised one eyebrow. “Strange woman.”
“She might be strange, but boy, can she cook! Taste one of these.” Laura held up one of the small white cookies. It had a perfect red rosette in the center.
“Be careful, Laura, they probably have some kind of poison in them.” Jim sat down on the arm of the new couch. “I hope everybody in this town isn’t as weird as they are.” He leaned back and sighed. “Did you see how that William was dressed, and what happened when I asked him to show me around?”
Jim’s father hesitated, thinking; then he shrugged. “Why don’t you go out and see the neighborhood
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