Rose sat on Grace’s bed, thinking about Mavis’s plan to find Henry.
“We’ll see if we can find some clues,” Mavis had said, “like mashed-down plants where he’s slept or maybe even some paw prints on the ground. He has to be close if he’s still eating Amanda’s food. We’ll find him and take him straight to Mr. Duffy. It’s the perfect plan.”
But Rose didn’t think it was the perfect plan.
She glanced up at Grace’s bulletin board over her desk. Tacked to it were ticket stubs from a rock concert in Birmingham, an invitation to somebody’s high school graduation party, a dried rose, a postcard their cousin had sent from Mexico—and right in the middle was a picture of Grace, sitting on the hood of somebody’s car. She was wearing that silky flowered blouse that Rose loved so much.
Rose wished Grace were here to talk to. Grace would give her good advice about Mavis’s plan. Maybe Grace would tell her it was a bad idea. But then again, Grace was a lot like Mavis. She never cared about breaking rules.
Rose went down to the library and dialed Grace’s number.
Grace picked up right away and squealed, “Rosie!”
Rose told her about Mavis’s plan.
And wouldn’t you know, Grace thought it was a great idea.
“Really?” Rose said.
“Sure! Why not?”
Then Grace told Rose she needed to have a little fun once in a while, and there were so many dang rules in that house it might as well be a prison.
“Just go for it, Rosie!” she said.
Rose said okay, she would go for it.
Then Grace had to go, so they said goodbye and hung up.
Rose took a deep breath and headed to the front door. She had agreed to meet Mavis at their spot in the lot across the street so they could go over the plan to catch Henry.
On her way out, Rose heard her mother and Miss Jeeter in the kitchen talking about vichyssoise.
“It’s supposed to be cold,” her mother was saying. “Who ever heard of heating vichyssoise?”
“Cold?” Miss Jeeter snapped. “Who ever heard of cold soup?”
Rose could imagine the look on her mother’s face when she heard that.
Then her mother started telling Miss Jeeter about the importance of washing leeks, but Rose wasn’t interested. She went outside to meet Mavis.
* * *
“What are y’all doing?” Amanda hollered at them from her front porch.
Rose wanted to run away, but Mavis jutted her chin in the air and said, “Nothing.”
“Yeah, right.” Amanda stepped off the porch and came closer. She glanced back at her house and said in a low voice, “Y’all are looking for that dog.”
“So?” Mavis said.
“So, if y’all are planning to catch that dog for Mr. Duffy, you’re wasting your time.”
“What do you mean?” Rose said.
Mavis headed toward the side of the house. “Just ignore her, Rose.”
“What do you mean?” Rose repeated to Amanda.
“Everybody says Mr. Duffy is too old for that job,” Amanda said. “I bet he’s not going to be around much longer.”
Rose felt her heart clench up tight. “Who says that?”
“Everybody.”
“Don’t listen to her, Rose,” Mavis called from the side of the house.
But Rose had listened.
And now she had a stomachache.
But when Mavis called out, “Come on, Rose,” she scrambled after her, pretending not to see Amanda standing there with her fists balled into her waist.
Then off they went into the woods, pushing through pricker bushes and climbing over fallen trees, searching for Henry.