Rose had two feelings twirling around together.
First of all, she was feeling pretty proud of herself for asking Amanda if she and Mavis could borrow her bike.
Maybe she really was getting to be more like Mavis.
But twirling around with that feeling was another one.
Guilt.
Rose was feeling guilty that she didn’t want the rain to stop.
Sure, she had agreed to go to Wonderland.
But now that she had committed to going, she wasn’t feeling quite so sure.
As long as it rained, she wouldn’t have to actually do it.
She could hang out in the gatehouse with Mr. Duffy instead.
The problem with that, though, was that it seemed like he was getting grumpier every day.
When Mildred Owings had called to complain about Mr. Duffy letting somebody selling magazine subscriptions into Magnolia Estates, he had practically hung up on her. Then he’d grumbled about her all morning.
“That woman is so annoying she could make a preacher cuss,” he’d said, not once, but three times.
When Darlene Badger had stopped by to take a look at his clipboard to make sure the guests for her barbecue were on there, he had handed it to her with a big humph.
After she’d left, Mr. Duffy had said, “She thinks she can charm the dew right off the honeysuckle.”
When the rain didn’t let up, Mavis got more and more impatient.
“Maybe we should go anyway,” she said. “Who cares about a little rain?”
But finally the day came.
The rain stopped.
The sun came out, drying up the puddles and making the raindrops on the dogwood tree beneath Rose’s bedroom window sparkle like diamonds. Steam drifted up off the Tullys’ winding driveway, and Monroe Tucker showed up to mow the lawn.
Rose knew Mavis would be waiting for her at the back door. That had been their plan. To meet at the back door as soon as it stopped raining.
Rose tiptoed into the hallway and listened. Was her mother home? She hoped not. If her mother saw her taking her bike out of the garage, she would be suspicious. Rose never rode her bike.
Suddenly Miss Jeeter came into the foyer with a feather duster, singing. That was a good sign. Miss Jeeter would never sing if Rose’s mother had been home.
So Rose hurried down the stairs, gave a quick wave to Miss Jeeter, and went out the back door.
Sure enough, there was Mavis.
Rose hadn’t even made it to the bottom of the steps when Mavis dashed toward the garage hollering, “Get your bike. We’re going to Wonderland!”