Philadelphia! Page 4

  Alfie’s laugh was interrupted by another loud noise. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to sleep, either!

  Alfie was awoken by a steady tapping noise. He slowly opened his eyes. What was that, anyway? Just then, Emilia got up from her bed and shuffled across the floor. She opened the door that connected the room to their parents’ room. Alfie yawned loudly.

  “Good morning!” Mom said in a singsong voice. “Time to get up!”

  Alfie groaned and pulled up his covers. Emilia trudged back to her bed and sat on the edge, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  Mom stepped into the room. “What’s the matter with you two? I thought you’d be ready for another day of exploring before your dad and I were even awake!”

  “I didn’t sleep very well,” Emilia said.

  “Me either,” Alfie mumbled through his bedsheet.

  “Why not?” Mom asked.

  Emilia shrugged. “The bed was comfortable, but there were so many loud noises!”

  Mom nodded knowingly. “We heard some of that, too. It’s just a very old building, and old buildings like to settle at night.”

  “It sounded more like the building was throwing a party than settling!” Alfie said.

  Mom chuckled. “We’re heading downstairs for breakfast with Zia. You two take a few minutes to wake up and get ready, then meet us down there.”

  “Okay,” Emilia said through a yawn.

  After a few minutes, Alfie and Emilia took the elevator down to the lobby and walked past the empty reception desk into the dining room of the restaurant. Mom, Dad, and Zia were seated at the same table they’d been at the night before. Emma and her mom stood talking to them, holding menus in their hands. There were four other tables of people aside from theirs. It looked like no one had eaten yet—the others were sipping coffee, tea, or juice.

  “Good morning!” Emma said, a smile taking up her entire face.

  “How did you sleep?” Ann asked.

  Emilia and Alfie exchanged a quick glance. “Uh . . . good!” Emilia said. “Fine.”

  “Yeah,” Alfie interjected. “We really love the view from our room!”

  “I’m so glad,” Ann said.

  Emma handed them each a menu as they sat down. “What would you like to have?”

  Alfie scanned the page and landed on exactly what he wanted. “I’ll have banana pancakes, please!”

  Emma beamed. “My mom just let me add those to the menu. They’re my favorite! What about you, Emilia?”

  Emilia took a minute to decide. “I think I’ll have the spinach and feta omelet.”

  “Great!” Emma said, writing it on her small pad of paper.

  “Did you order already?” Alfie asked his parents.

  “We did,” Dad responded. “Your mother and I are both having omelets, and Zia is having the frittata.”

  “What’s a frittata?” Alfie asked.

  Zia was about to answer when Emma chimed in. “It’s like an open-faced omelet, or a quiche without the crust,” she explained.

  “That’s right,” Zia said. “I know I’ve made frittata for you before. It’s Italian!”

  “I remember!” Emilia said.

  “Even the word is Italian,” Mom added. “It comes from friggere, which means ‘to fry.’”

  “And fried always equals delicious,” said Alfie.

  The adults laughed and shook their heads.

  “If it’s not too much of an imposition, I’d love to see your kitchen,” Zia told Ann.

  “Absolutely!” Ann said. “Right this way.”

  “Great,” Zia replied, setting down her menu and following Ann into the kitchen.

  Emma smiled at the Bertolizzis and tucked her notepad into her apron. “I’m just going to take one more order, and then we’ll get started on your food!”

  “Thanks, Emma,” Alfie said.

  “Don’t worry. We’re not in a rush,” Mom replied.

  Alfie noticed how relaxed Mom seemed. He hadn’t seen her look that way in a long time.

  “What should we do today, kids?” Dad asked.

  Alfie was about to respond when the lights went out. The whole dining room was plunged into darkness. Alfie could hear a few dishes and pots clanging in the kitchen. “What happened?”

  “I guess the power went out,” Dad said.

  Not a minute later, John appeared from the front lobby, balancing a flashlight and an armload of matchbooks and candles. Dad jumped up to help him.

  “I’m so sorry,” John said, out of breath. “I can’t think of the last time we had a power outage. I need to check the block and see if it’s just our building.”

  Dad took the candles and books of matches from his hands. “You go take a look. I’ll pass out the candles.” Dad brought a couple of candles and a book of matches to each table and helped get them lit.

  Ann came out of the kitchen carrying a flashlight. She asked Mom if she’d seen John and then hurried to find him. The family waited at their table, watching the candlelight flicker across the room. Emma and Zia walked out of the kitchen at the same time as Emma’s parents returned from the lobby.

  “I’m afraid the power is out in our entire building,” John announced to all the guests. “It doesn’t appear that any other buildings on the block have been affected. I just had the electrical checked in our mechanical room last week and nothing is off on the breaker switches or the fuse box.”

  There were murmurs and whispers among the other guests.

  “I’ve called the power company and the electrician, and I’m sure the power will be restored shortly,” John continued.

  “We can serve pastries, fruit, and yogurt,” Ann added. “But we won’t be able to finish making your entrées. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”

  Now the murmurs among the guests were getting louder. One by one, the other tables started to get up and head out of the restaurant, candles in hand.

  “I’m checking out,” one woman said.

  “Me too,” said a man. “And I’m on the fourth floor. How am I going to get my luggage down if I can’t use the elevator?”

  “I’ll help you, sir,” John replied. His voice sounded tired and defeated.

  Ann and Emma approached the Bertolizzis’ table. They were the only ones still seated. “I’m so sorry about this,” Ann said. “We just can’t seem to catch a break. John has always been so on top of repairs and making sure the building is running smoothly. It’s all so strange . . .”

  “We understand,” Zia said.

  “I need to go help John,” Ann continued. “I think some other guests are checking out early. But Emma can get you something to eat.”

  “We’ll be just fine with some pastries and fruit. Not to worry,” Mom said.

  Emma rushed back to the kitchen and returned with a plate of croissants and muffins and a big bowl of fruit.

  “This looks great,” Alfie said, helping himself to a blueberry muffin.

  “I’m so sorry for everything,” Emma said. Alfie could see her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. “Can I take you out sightseeing again today?”

  “We would love to have you as our tour guide again,” Dad said, spearing a piece of pineapple with his fork.

  “It’s the least I can do,” said Emma. “And it is one of my favorite things.”

  “It’s settled then,” Zia said.

  Emma beamed. “I’ll just finish up in the kitchen and meet you all in the lobby when you’re done eating.”

  Alfie looked around the dark room. It was kind of fun to eat by candlelight. Though he did feel bad about all the problems Emma and her parents were having. He still hadn’t figured out any way they could help them. He hoped he could think of something before it was time to go home!

  The Bertolizzis and Emma stepped out onto the sidewalk. “Now
that I know you love history so much, I thought we could visit the Betsy Ross House today,” Emma told them.

  “Really?” Emilia squealed.

  The family walked in the same direction as the Liberty Bell Center and then headed north for a few blocks. Before long, they arrived in front of a narrow two-story brick house. It had white shutters and a huge American flag waving from the second story.

  “I’m so excited!” Emilia said. “We’re studying the Revolutionary War in history class at the moment. Being in Philadelphia right now is perfect!”

  “I bet this is even better than reading about it in a book,” Dad said.

  “I’ve heard of Betsy Ross,” Zia said to Emilia. “But I don’t know much about her.”

  “She was a seamstress and upholstery maker here in Philadelphia in the late seventeen and early eighteen hundreds,” Emilia explained. “Her family claims that she was the first person to sew the American flag and present it to George Washington, but now there’s a lot of debate about whether or not that’s true. There just isn’t much information to back it up.”

  “But this house is historic either way,” Alfie added, studying the old exterior. “It says here that the front part of the house was built around 1740 with the back section added ten to twenty years later.”

  “Yes, I’d say that makes it historic, all right,” Dad agreed.

  Mom gave Alfie and Emilia money to buy tickets. Emma led the way to purchase them.

  “Good morning, Emma,” the woman at the ticket counter said. “How are things at the Liberty Hotel?”

  “Hi, Mrs. Wells,” Emma responded. “They’re . . . fine. How are you?”

  “Busy! But good,” Mrs. Wells replied. “Let me just add the discount to your ticket price, and you’ll be all set.”

  “Thank you,” Alfie said, handing her the money.

  “Everybody knows your hotel!” Emilia remarked.

  Emma smiled. “We send guests to all the historic spots, so they give us a discount.”

  The family made their way through the museum, looking at all the cool artifacts—maps, textiles, and furniture—and reading the important information about the house, Betsy Ross, and her family. Alfie couldn’t believe how many children Betsy Ross had in her lifetime. Sometimes having one sibling was enough of a challenge!

  When they were done, they waited outside for Emilia, who was still taking in every detail of the house.

  “The house was restored in the 1930s,” Emilia told them when she finally emerged. “And they’ve done lots of additions and improvements since then, thanks to the special groups in Philly.”

  “It’s so important to preserve the past,” Zia agreed.

  “Well, what should we do next?” Dad asked.

  “I thought we might go to the Italian Market on Ninth Street,” Emma said.

  “That sounds right up our alley,” Mom said.

  “I loved the Italian Market when I visited,” Zia added. “How fun to go back!”

  “It’s in South Philly, where my grandma lives,” said Emma. “That’s traditionally the Italian section of the city, but now it’s full of people and food from all over the world.”

  “Cool,” Alfie said.

  Dad hailed a minivan cab that could fit all of them, and they climbed inside. After a short ride, the cab pulled up to the curb in front of what Alfie assumed was the Italian Market. It was a collection of outdoor food and market stalls lining the busy street. They hopped out of the cab and walked along the sidewalk, taking it all in.

  There were fruit and vegetable stands, cheese and meat stalls, spices, fresh Italian pasta, seafood vendors, ice-cream stalls, and bakeries—so many delicious-looking, and-smelling, foods. Each storefront was plastered in menus and posters, and local vendors passed out free samples to the crowd. Alfie tried a sample of fresh ricotta ravioli, a taste of strawberry buttermilk ice cream, and a square of extra-dark chocolate with cherries in it. Everything was delicious!

  When they passed the meat market, Emma stopped to talk to the butcher. “Hi, Sam,” she said. “I have a list from my mom to drop off. She said she’d pick it up tomorrow if that’s okay with you.”

  “No problem, Emma,” Sam replied. “Anything for my friends at the Liberty Hotel.”

  As they passed the cheese stall, the worker there called Emma over. “We just got in that new goat’s milk cheese I was telling your mom about last week,” the woman said, handing a package to Emma. “Take this home and tell me what you think!”

  “Thanks, Alice. I will!” Emma smiled.

  “You know everybody in town!” Emilia remarked.

  “We shop at all the local markets in Philly and try to support as many other small family businesses as we can,” Emma said.

  “That’s wonderful,” Zia said. “And the food is so much fresher and more authentic!”

  “For sure!” Emma agreed. But soon, a frown took over her face. “I just hope we can keep the hotel and restaurant up and running and stay in business!”

  “You will,” Emilia said gently.

  “Well, all this talk of food is making me hungry!” Alfie said, trying to lighten the mood. He realized it had been a while since he’d eaten breakfast. He looked around at all the restaurants nearby. There was Mexican food, Vietnamese food, Korean barbecue, and Middle Eastern food all right near the market.

  A smile spread across Emma’s face. “How about a cheesesteak?”

  “Finally!” Alfie responded, proudly showing off his T-shirt. “I’m not totally sure what that is, but I like cheese and I like steak, so it has to be good!”

  “Here’s my chance to try an authentic Philly cheesesteak!” Dad chimed in.

  “Great!” Emma said. “It’s just a short walk away.”

  Emma led them south on Ninth Street. After a few blocks, they walked by a park and sports field. Nearby there were crowds of people gathered in front of two restaurants that sat across the street from each other.

  “It’s a huge debate in Philly as to which place is better. I’ve never been able to decide for myself,” Emma explained.

  “Why don’t Mauricio, Arianna, and I get sandwiches from this one, and you kids can try the other one?” Zia suggested.

  “Sounds good!” Emilia said.

  Dad gave them some money, and they went to wait in line.

  Alfie studied the menu. “So, what should I get?”

  “A traditional cheesesteak is just thinly sliced steak on a long roll with cheese. You can also get sautéed onions and peppers if you want,” Emma replied. “Usually the choice is between provolone cheese and Cheez Whiz. I always get mine with Whiz.”

  “That’s like the cheese sauce I had with my pretzel yesterday, right?” Alfie asked.

  “Yep!”

  “I’m definitely getting that,” Alfie said.

  “I’ll have mine with provolone cheese and peppers,” Emilia said.

  Emma ordered for them, and before long, they were each presented with a huge sandwich packed with steak and cheese. They sat down at an outdoor table to eat their food.

  Alfie took a giant bite, and Cheez Whiz dripped from his chin. The bread was soft and chewy, and the steak with the rich cheese sauce was a delicious mix. “Yum!” he said between bites.

  Emilia put a little ketchup on her sandwich and then took a bite. She nodded vigorously. “So good!” she said. “Want to try mine, Alfie?”

  “Sure!” Alfie said, taking a big bite of Emilia’s sandwich. “Mmmmm. That’s good, too! The peppers are so sweet. I like them.”

  “Me too!” Emilia added, taking back her sandwich.

  “So, what’s your favorite thing about living in a hotel?” Alfie asked Emma.

  Emma put down her cheesesteak. “Definitely all the interesting people I meet!” she said.

  “You’ve probably met people from all
over the world!” Emilia said. “I would love that.”

  “I have.” Emma grinned.

  “What’s your least favorite thing?” Alfie asked.

  Emma sighed. “Probably all the problems we’ve been having, and that developer who keeps coming around. It seems like as soon as he showed up, that’s when all our problems started. I know my parents are really stressed about all the repair costs. And I just can’t bear to think of losing the hotel like that.”

  After a minute, Emilia spoke up—a smile growing on her face. “Well, I might have an idea.”

  A thought had just been running through Alfie’s mind at the same time. “I’ve got one, too,” he chimed in, excited to share it.

  Back at the hotel, everybody gathered in the restaurant dining room, eager to hear the ideas that Alfie and Emilia had.

  “We visited the Betsy Ross House today,” Emilia explained to Emma’s parents. “And it got me thinking about historic buildings. No one would ever dream of tearing down that house, because it’s a historic landmark.”

  “Of course not,” Ann said.

  “So why can’t the Liberty Hotel be a landmark, too?” Emilia asked. “It’s an old building with tons of interesting history, and it’s right in the middle of the most historic part of Philadelphia!”

  “That’s true . . . ,” John said, processing what Emilia was saying.

  “So you should apply to become a landmarked building! That way no developer can come and tear it down. And maybe more people will want to stay here once they know how special it is,” Emilia said all in one breath. Alfie could see how excited she was. It really was a great idea!

  “Maybe that could work!” Emma said, getting excited, too.

  “Absolutely,” Ann agreed, looking at John. “I looked into it years ago, but I just didn’t pursue it.”

  John nodded vigorously. “There’s no reason not to try again!”

  Emilia’s face glowed.

  “And what about you, Alfie?” Mom asked. “What was your idea?”

  “At the Italian Market, I saw a poster for a fund-raising event, and I was thinking of the fund-raiser our band group had so that we could travel to special events around town. So, I wondered if maybe Emma and her family could have a fund-raiser to help them raise money for the renovations they need to do on the hotel.”