Patricia Reilly Giff - Lilys Crossing

A LSO BY P ATRICIA R EILLY G IFF

The Gift of the Pirate Queen

Matthew Jackson Meets the Wall

Shark in School

Poopsie Pomerantz, Pick Up Your Feet

Love, from the Fifth-Grade Celebrity

Fourth-Grade Celebrity

The Girl Who Knew It All

Left-Handed Shortstop

The Winter Worm Business

Rat Teeth

Have You Seen Hyacinth Macaw?

Loretta P. Sweeny, Where Are You?

Tootsie Tanner, Why Dont You Talk?

Patricia Reilly Giff

Patricia Reilly Giff is the author of many beloved books for children, including the Kids of the Polk Street School books, the Friends and Amigos books, and the Polka Dot Private Eye books. Her novels for middle-grade readers include The Gift of the Pirate Queen and the Casey, Tracy & Company books. She lives in Weston, Connecticut.

Dear Reader:

I truly hope youve enjoyed reading Lilys story.

It seems that Lilys world has always been in my head. Ive wanted to write about that world for years. Rockaway Beach, the Atlantic Ocean, ships steaming in convoys toward Europe, and the Second World War were part of my childhood. I remember the summer of 1944, remember the invasion and the news of the allied armies as they marched across France and liberated Paris late that August. I remember the fears of that time, and how personal it all was. I was surprised that other people, sometimes even adults, thought about the same things I did and had much the same worries. But most of all, I remember that friendship, in the secret world of childhood, added comfort and joy and was the very texture of my life.

Ive written about friendship before, but in a lighthearted way, laughing as Ive worked through the lives of Casey, Tracy & Company and the Polk Street Kids. But this time, I wanted to explore what happens to people as they forge a relationship in a more serious way. I wanted to tell my readers that even though the times are different now, people have always worried about the same things... loss and separation, the future, and sometimes war. I want readers to know that love and friendship make a difference.

Chapter 1

S T . A LBANS, 1944

L ily Mollahans bedroom was at the top of the stairs, the only one on the second floor. The top of the house, Gram always told her, the top of the world.

Lily sank back on her heels to look around at the blue walls and ceiling, and the gold stars pasted on here and there. Then she stretched up again, working with Poppys paint scraper, to peel off a star that was almost beyond her reach.

She was hot and sticky, the temperature at least ninety degrees, and Gram, who didnt have one bit of patience, was calling from the kitchen for the tenth time.

Your father will be home in just a few minutes, and the table isnt set.

As if Lily didnt know it was dinnertime. Even Mrs. Curley halfway down 200th Street would be able to smell that cabbage cooking. I thought you wanted me to finish packing, Lily called back as loudly as she could, to drown out the radio in the kitchen.

She could hardly breathe in that bedroom, Lily thought, glancing around again; she could hardly walk. Things were pulled out all over the floor, waiting to be stuffed into her suitcase: books, papers with stories she had written, bathing suits, and heaps of clothes Gram had put on the bed.

She had even found an old silver mirror of her mothers she had hidden away in back of the closet last winter. She was going to put it carefully on top of the suitcase in a nest of pajamas. It would be a miracle if she ever got that far, though, if everything got itself sorted out, and packed, and if they made it to the house in Rockaway before her birthday on Monday.

Rockaway. She said it aloud, loving the sound of it on her tongue. Rockaway and the ocean were waiting for her. The summer without homework... to write stories for herself and not Sister Eileen. The summer without a piano to practice every afternoon. Days and days to sneak into the movies with her best friend, Margaret.

Gram was at the bottom of the stairs now, the six oclock news blaring from the radio behind her. War news, about D-Day. The invasion of France by the Allies a couple of weeks ago. That was all anybody talked about. No, not quite. Sister Eileen was much more interested in whether the class had rosaries and clean handkerchiefs in their pockets than in who was going to win the war.

Too bad about Sister Eileen. Lily would be out of St. Albans in four days, and Sister Eileen would still be stuck there in St. Pascals thinking about everyones clean handkerchiefs.

Lily? Youre not packed yet? Gram called. I thought youd finished an hour ago. And remember we dont have that much room in the car.

Almost finished, Lily said, and almost started, under her breath. And there, with another slide of the paint scraper, the star came off the wall in one piece, drifting into her outstretched palm. It was perfect, the points still as sharp as when they were new. The star she had scraped off last year had torn a little, and...

Lily turned it over. A trace of glue was still on the back. She put her mouth against it, a kiss. Her mother had been the last one to touch that spot when she had pasted it up for her years ago. She had still been Baby Elizabeth then... no one had called her Lily yet, and her mother had been alive....playing the piano with you on her lap, Poppy had told her once, dancing in the living room with you on her shoulder. Lily wished she could remember it.

She could hear her father coming now, whistling along 200th Street, just off the Q3A bus, calling hello to Mrs. Bruns. Gram heard him too. Dinner this minute, Lily, she said, clumping back toward the kitchen.

Lily stood up and put the star in between two pages of her book, Evangeline. By this time, Poppy was in the kitchen; she could hear him talking to Gram. Lily raced down for a hug before Gram started to talk and talk, and no one else could get a word in edgewise.

Poppy was standing at the sink, his straw hat still on but pushed back, drinking a glass of water from the tin measuring cup. Lily loved to drink out of that too. It always made the water taste icy, even on the hottest day.

Her father turned. Lily Billy, he said, smiling at her. All packed? Ready for Rockaway?

Ready, she said.

Gram rolled her eyes in back of Poppy, but Lily didnt even blink. She slid some plates around the table, the forks and the knives, while Poppy tossed his hat over the hook on the door and washed his hands.

I have a surprise, he said over his shoulder. You wont believe

Mr. Egan is a Nazi spy, Lily said at the same minute.

Poppy stopped to listen to what she was saying. He always did that. It was one of his nicest ways. He was biting his lip, though, almost as if hed laugh.

Gram speared the boiled beef out of the pot and dripped it across the counter to the cutting board. Mr. Egan is not a spy, she said. Ive told you that about fourteen times. Mr. Egan is

A spy, Lily said, her eyes narrowed at Gram.

Well, said Poppy, Ill have to keep my eye on him while you and Gram are in Rockaway.

Youll be with us on some weekends, Lily said. He could

And what do you think poor Tom Egan is doing? Gram asked, slicing into the meat.

Hes building something in his garage, Lily said.

Certainly sounds suspicious, said Poppy, grinning.

It could be anything, Lily said. When he saw me looking in the window, he said I was into everyones business.

True, said Gram.

You have to be alert, Poppy said.

Lily slid into her seat, smiling. She knew he was teasing. You said you had a surprise, she reminded him.

The piano, said Poppy.