Lemonade in Winter (2 page)

“Each time you get four quarters, that’s a dollar,” says Pauline.

“Four quarters, that’s money!” says John-John.

Pauline and John-John at the corner store in hats and mittens.

Four lemons cost a dollar.

Four limes cost a dollar, too.

Two dollars for sugar.

Two dollars for cups.

“We have twenty-four quarters, and that’s six dollars,” Pauline tells John-John as she counts out the money.

They run through the bitter air with a large paper bag.

Mom says, “Nobody will be on the street.”

Dad says, “Nobody will want cold drinks.”

Pauline and John-John are too busy to hear.

Squeezing lemons.

Squeezing limes.

Measuring sugar.

Pouring water.

Lemonade and limeade—and also lemon-limeade!

Outside, that mean wind blows.

Icicles hang from the windowsills.

“Maybe nobody
is
on the street,” says Pauline, after a bit. “Maybe nobody
will
want cold drinks.”

“I’m on the street,” says John-John. “I want them.” He grabs a cup of limeade.

“Don’t drink too much,” Pauline warns. “It’s fifty cents a cup.”

And still, an empty street.

Pauline thinks.

“Maybe we should advertise.”

Shouting wildly, both together:

Harvey walks down the block with Milou, Mischa and Mungo.

“Cold drinks on a day like today?” he laughs. “Love it.”

He pays, drinks a lemonade and takes a limeade back home.

“Fifty cents, that’s two quarters,” Pauline tells John-John. “Two drinks is four quarters—and that’s a dollar.”

She puts the money in a green plastic box.

But after that, an empty street.

Pauline thinks.

“Maybe we need entertainment.”

“I can cartwheel!” John-John leaps up.

“Good idea,” she tells him. “I’ll drum.”

Ms. Gordon stops on her way into the building, holding Devon and Derek by the hands. “Let’s see that cartwheel again, you,” she says, a smile in her voice.

John-John cartwheels while Ms. Gordon buys three lemon-limeades.