Biff Brewster was the oldest of the three Brewster children. He had gone with his father on several of his explorations. But Biff was sixteen, an age Ted could hardly wait to reach. Biff even had his driver’s license. To Ted, this was the highest goal anybody could hope to reach.
The Brewster family had been having a cookout in their backyard when Mr. Brewster made his wonderful announcement.
“One more week, and it’s off to Hawaii,” he said.
“Is Biff going?” Ted asked.
The children’s father had smiled and turned to Mrs. Brewster. “Let’s pack the small fry and take them along, too.”
“What!” whooped Ted, his hot dog hitting the grass and his lemonade spilling all over his shorts as he leaped to his feet.
“And me? Me? I’m going, too!” Monica hurled herself at her father, her arms circling his neck.
“Easy there, princess. I’d rather have this food inside me, not on the outside.”
Thomas Brewster put his daughter down. He looked into her eager, upturned face. Her hazel eyes sparkled. She had never looked prettier to him, and Mr. Brewster had always thought her the fairest princess of them all. Copper-colored hair framed her oval, pixie face. The summer sun had bronzed her clear skin. Keeping up with her brother Ted had given her a straight, sturdy figure. A nuisance at times, when her spirits shot higher than Pike’s Peak, she was the darling of the family, and had to be squelched only three or four times a week.
“What about it, Ted?” Mr. Brewster said teasingly. “Think your sister ought to come along, too?”