Rose and Mavis sat on the log in the lot across the street. The morning dew still clung to the Queen Anne’s lace at the edge of the woods. It was early, but already the midsummer sun beat down, making the air thick with heat.
Mavis was determined to catch Henry and take him to Mr. Duffy today. She was showing Rose how good she was at tying a slipknot in a piece of rope she had found in the garage. She explained how they could use it as a leash, and everything was going to be so easy.
Rose was glad her mother was getting her hair done and then meeting some ladies for lunch. If she saw Rose coming out of the woods with a dog, she would have a hissy fit.
“Let’s go get some chicken or something from your kitchen,” Mavis said.
“What for?”
“For Henry. So we can coax him out of wherever he’s hiding.”
“Oh.” Rose knew Mavis wanted her to be excited, and she was trying. She really was.
She reached into her pocket and curled her fingers around Grace’s silver dollar. Grace would’ve been so proud of her, running into the woods after Mavis like she had.
And hadn’t Mavis been surprised? Rose could still see that grin on her face.
Rose took a deep breath and said, “Okay, let’s go!”
And off she went, up the side of the street, with Mavis hollering, “Hey, wait for me!”
When they got to the back door, Mavis said, “Hopefully Mama’s not in the kitchen. But if she is, let me handle it, okay?”
Rose gladly said, “Okay.”
Mavis opened the kitchen door a crack and peeked in.
“She’s not here,” she whispered. “Come on.”
The two of them tiptoed across the kitchen floor to the refrigerator.
Mavis began to root around inside.
“Roast beef!” she said. “And look at these!”
She showed Rose a plate of tiny quiches, like the ones Mrs. Tully often served when company came in the afternoon. Before Rose had a chance to tell Mavis she didn’t think they should take those, Mavis had already dropped four of them into the plastic bag with the slices of roast beef.
“What’s this?” Mavis pointed to something beside the plate of quiches.
Rose wrinkled her nose. “Liver pâté,” she said. “It’s nasty.”
“Perfect!” Mavis said, and dropped it into the plastic bag.
“Mavis!”
Rose and Mavis jumped.
Mavis’s mother stood in the doorway to the dining room with her hands on her hips.
And then Mavis did the most amazing thing.
Before she turned around to face her mother, she stuffed that plastic bag into the waist of her shorts and pulled her T-shirt down over it.
“Rose was hungry,” Mavis said. “Right, Rose?” She poked Rose with her elbow.
Rose nodded, her face burning. Why was she so bad at lying? She’d give anything to be as good a liar as Mavis was.
Miss Jeeter narrowed her eyes and marched over to the refrigerator.
“Then y’all get some string cheese or something and get on out of here,” she said. “I’ve got sheets to change upstairs.”
Rose knew how much it annoyed Miss Jeeter to have to change the sheets so often. She had heard her grumbling under her breath that the Queen of England probably didn’t have her sheets changed that often. So Rose knew that now was not a good time to be stealing food from the refrigerator.
But, of course, Mavis didn’t care how annoyed her mother was. She was bound and determined to carry out her plan to catch Henry today no matter what.
“What about this?” Mavis held up a small plate of tomato aspic left over from last night’s supper. Rose wanted to tell her that Henry probably wouldn’t like tomato aspic, but Mavis’s mother said, “Fine. Now take it and go.”
Then, before Rose could tell Mavis that they at least needed forks for tomato aspic, Mavis was hurrying out the back door, calling, “Come on, Rose,” behind her.