Keeping Secrets (8 page)

“Goodness me,” said Min on Monday evening when Flora told her how Willow's mother had stood at the front door and waved to her and Olivia with a handkerchief. “Although really, when you think about it — waving with a hankie. It isn't as though she was running up and down Aiken Avenue in a gorilla suit.”

“No,” said Flora slowly.

“Still,” said Ruby.

“What is it, girls?” asked Min.

Ruby shrugged. “It's hard to explain. She laughs when you wouldn't expect her to.”

“And she makes jokes that only she thinks are funny,” said Flora. “I feel a little creepy when I'm around her.”

“It's hard to explain,” said Ruby again.

“Maybe she's shy,” suggested Min.

“Maybe,” Flora agreed. “Cole's shy.”

Flora, Ruby, and Min were sitting at the kitchen table, eating a late supper. A silence followed Flora's last comment that was so long that Ruby deliberately broke it with a harsh belch that startled Daisy Dear and caused her to go skidding out of the kitchen.

“Ruby!” exclaimed Min.

“I thought we needed a little comedy relief.”

“Comic relief,” Min corrected her. “Maybe we do.”

Min looked troubled. Flora saw an expression on her face that she saw again the next day on Mrs. Morris's face when Travis, trying bravely not to cry, came home complaining that Cole's mother had scared him when he and Cole were playing hide-and-seek.

“What did she do?” asked Mrs. Morris.

“She jumped out of a closet and shouted BOO!”

Flora almost laughed, then realized how troubled she would have been if an adult — one she didn't know well — had done that to her at Travis's age.

Mrs. Morris frowned at the house next door before leading Travis inside, her arm around his shoulders.

Early on Wednesday morning — so early that the streetlights were still ablaze — the telephone rang at Flora's house. She heard it faintly, ringing twice in Min's room before it stopped. Flora could imagine her grandmother answering it sleepily but trying to sound alert. A phone call at that hour couldn't be good news, thought Flora. But when a few minutes passed and she heard nothing further from Min's room, she decided it had been a wrong number and fell soundly asleep, waking again only when her alarm went off.

“Who called?” was the first thing Ruby said at the breakfast table that morning.

“Good morning, Min dear,” was Min's reply.

“Good morning, Min dear,” said Ruby obediently. Then she added, “Good morning, Flora dear. Good morning, King Comma dear. Good morning, Daisy Dear dear.” She looked quite satisfied with herself.

“Lord above,” murmured Min.

“So who called?” asked Ruby. “I heard the phone ring at, like, three o'clock.”

“Well, it was five o'clock,” replied Min. “But still.” She hesitated, spending a long time buttering a piece of toast. “The caller was Mrs. Hamilton,” she said finally.

“What was wrong?” asked Flora. “Are they okay?”

“They're fine.” Min frowned. “I don't think Mrs. Hamilton had any idea what time it was. She said she was calling to thank me for the cake I brought over on Sunday.”

“She was thanking you at five in the morning?” said Ruby.

“I know.” Min shook her head. “She sounded awfully confused. Or nervous. It was hard to tell. Then she started talking about a particular kind of cake her mother used to make, and then she wanted to know what grocery store we go to. I was about to ask her if we could talk later in the morning when she suddenly said she had to hang up — and she did. Hang up, I mean.”

“Huh,” said Flora.

“Wacko,” said Ruby.

“Ruby,” said Min.

“Sorry,” said Ruby. She leaned under the table to sneak a bite of toast to Daisy. “But she is,” she muttered.

 

That afternoon, a gray day that felt more like November than October, Flora walked home from school with Willow. Above them, seven geese honked noisily as they flew over Main Street.

Willow shivered and fastened the top button on her coat. She glanced up. “Those geese are lazy,” she said. “They didn't even bother to make a V. It's more like an L.” She paused to read a sign in the window of Time and Again. “Dog parade? What's a dog parade?” she asked.

Flora smiled. “That was Nikki's idea. It's a Halloween parade for dogs. It's a fund-raiser for the animal shelter. Hey! You guys should enter Bessie. There's still time.”

“Maybe,” said Willow. “So let me get this straight. Your grandmother and Olivia's grandmother own the sewing store, right?”

“Right,” said Flora.

“And Olivia's parents own — what's it called? Yours Truly?”

“Sincerely Yours. It's right back there. Olivia's helping out this afternoon. That's why she didn't walk home with us.”

The girls turned the corner onto Dodds Lane.

“Anyway, we're entering Daisy in the parade,” said Flora. “Ruby and I. We're going to dress her as a daisy.”

“Did you know that Cole does sixth-grade math and he's only in third grade?”

“I — well, no, I didn't know that.” Flora eyed Willow.

“Yup. He's really amazing. Is this where we turn?”

Flora nodded. Ahead were the Row Houses. She liked this view of them, from back at the corner, where she could see the rows of everything — the sixteen third-floor windows, the sixteen second-floor windows, the eight front doors, the eight front stoops, the eight yards, one after another. She noticed now that the Hamiltons' door was open and Willow's mother was standing on their stoop.

“Your mom's waiting,” said Flora, glancing at Willow.

“Yeah.”

“Does she always wait like that?”

Willow shrugged. “I never know what she's going to do…. Oh, well.” They drew up to the Hamiltons' walk and Willow said, “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Oh,” said Flora, who had been about to invite Willow to her house. “Okay. See you tomorrow.” She edged down the sidewalk. When she reached the Malones' house, she turned around. Willow was approaching her mother, who stood like a grim statue before the front door, arms folded across her chest.

“So?” said Mrs. Hamilton.

“I … what?” replied Willow uncertainly.

Flora could hear their voices perfectly. She bent and pretended to re-tie her sneaker.

“You know what,” said Mrs. Hamilton.

“I really don't. Um, my shoes?”

“No, not your shoes! Your closet door. How many times do I have to remind you? Can't you remember a single thing?”

Flora risked a glance over her shoulder. Willow had backed down a step. “I promise I'll do it right,” she said. “I'll do it this minute.” She hesitated. “Can I come inside?”

Mrs. Hamilton stared at her. “Fine.” Then,
“Fine.”
She jerked Willow's elbow as Willow squeezed by her. Then she slammed the door closed with such force that Flora heard windows rattle.

 

On Wednesday afternoon, Ruby and Olivia had after-school activities, so Flora sat on her stoop, presiding over the younger Row House children: the Morrises, Olivia's brothers, and Cole Hamilton. She wasn't officially baby-sitting, but she liked to give the appearance of a baby-sitter, figuring it was good advertising.

Presently, Mrs. Hamilton called to Cole and handed him a leash, Bessie on the other end of it. “Bessie needs to get out for a while,” she said.

Flora watched Cole run along the sidewalk with Bessie. “Hey, Cole!” she called. “Did Willow tell you about the dog parade?”

Cole came to a stop, turned, and walked Bessie across Flora's lawn. “What dog parade?”

“It's on Friday afternoon.” Flora once again described Nikki's idea. “It should be a lot of fun,” she added. “And I could help you with a costume. There's still time, if we pick something simple. I could make Bessie into —”

But Cole was shaking his head. “No.”

“There's time, Cole. Really,” said Flora. “And, hey! On Saturday, you could take Bessie trick-or-treating with you! She'd have her very own costume. Wouldn't that be fun? I bet Bessie hasn't been trick-or-treating before.”

“Okay …” said Cole. He paused. “Well, actually, no.”

“But why not?”

“There's no point. My mom won't let me go to the parade without an adult.”

“Well, couldn't you go with the Morrises? Or how about with Willow? Or with your own mom? Why doesn't she take you?”

Cole shook his head again. “She won't.”

“She won't let you go without an adult or with an adult? That doesn't seem fair. Look, I'm really good at sewing. I could whip up a costume for Bessie in no time. Let's go talk to your mother.” Flora took Cole by the hand and led him and Bessie back to his house.

“Flora, no. This isn't going to work.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Really. My mom doesn't —”

Flora had reached the Hamiltons' stoop. She knocked on the door, and when Mrs. Hamilton opened it, she told her about the parade. “And I could help Cole with the costume,” she said finally, then stopped talking when she realized with astonishment that Mrs. Hamilton was starting to cry. And not in that silent way in which Min occasionally cried. No, after just a few moments, she was wailing with full force like a child about to have a temper tantrum.

Mrs. Hamilton drew in a shaking breath, then let out a loud, long sob. “No! I won't have Cole going to such a crowded event.”

Flora took a step backward.

“I won't!” cried Mrs. Hamilton. She pulled Cole and Bessie through the front door and shut it hastily.

Flora stood for a moment before the house with its shades drawn. Then she turned and ran all the way to Main Street and the safety of Needle and Thread.

Paw-Paw Sherman sat drooling in the backseat of the car, watching the county road speed by. Nikki wondered what else he saw, what dogs truly saw when they stared so intently out a car window.

“I think he looks handsome, don't you?” said Mae to the passengers in the car.

“He's the best pirate dog I've ever seen,” replied Mr. Pennington seriously.

“Thank you very much for bringing us into town,” said Nikki. “We really appreciate it.”

“Well, we can't have the person behind the parade miss it,” said Mr. Pennington. “That would be a travesty. I was happy to pitch in when your mother called.”

Nikki turned around. Behind her, Mae was strapped into a booster seat. On one side of her was Paw-Paw the pirate. On the other side was Jacques, wearing a sailor suit and trying to remove the hat.

“Excuse me, Mr. Pennington?” said Mae. “I don't think Jacques likes his costume.”

Mr. Pennington smiled. “I don't think so, either. If he's fooling with the hat, you can take it off of him.”

Nikki faced front again. They were nearing town, and as they passed a large Victorian house she saw a woman walk across the lawn, leading a small curly-haired dog in a red costume with a great number of appendages.

“Hey!” exclaimed Nikki, laughing. “That dog is dressed as a lobster!”

“I see a dog in a clown suit,” said Mae.

And Mr. Pennington said, “My goodness. Look at Main Street. I'd better park here. I don't think we'll be able to get all the way into town.”

Nikki squinted down the block. “Wow,” she said under her breath. Then more loudly, “Wow!”

“And this was all your idea,” said Mr. Pennington as he unloaded Jacques and Paw-Paw from the backseat.

“I never dreamed so many people would come,” said Nikki, awestruck, as Mr. Pennington helped Mae climb out. “Never in a million years. This is amazing.”

“Cool!” cried Mae. “I see the ice cream truck. Oh, and the balloon man and he's selling dog-shaped balloons! This is like a fair. Can I have a balloon, please? Can I?”

Nikki pulled Mae aside. “I have a little money from Mom,” she told her quietly, “but remember that we're Mr. Pennington's guests. Don't ask for a lot of stuff. He did us a big favor by driving us here. Come on. Concentrate on walking in the parade.”

Mae pouted briefly but perked up when she spotted a young woman carrying a poodle dressed as a ballerina.

“Miss Drew!” exclaimed Mae rapturously. “It's Miss Drew! Hi, Miss Drew.”

“Hello, Mae,” said her teacher. “This is Buzzy. Is that Paw-Paw?”

Mae nodded. “And this is my sister, Nikki, and this is Mr. Pennington. Oh, and over there is Jacques. He's Mr. Pennington's dog. I didn't know you were going to be in the parade. Hey, did you know the parade was my sister's idea?”

“Was it?” said Miss Drew. “Well, it's a great idea.”

“Thank you,” replied Nikki. “It's to raise money for the animal shelter.”

Miss Drew held out a red ticket. “I just paid my entrance fee. Buzzy and I are ready to march.”