FRANKIE HIGHTAILED IT TO the restaurant, taking alleyways to try to get back before Mr. Stannum did and before Mother notified the police. She needn’t have bothered, though, because everyone was so engrossed in preparations for the Fourth of July party and grand opening that they didn’t seem to notice she had been gone. And if they had noticed, they didn’t seem to mind. That being the case, she made her way to the banquet room, where there was a nice buffet table along the wall, which just so happened to be covered by a long tablecloth that reached the floor.
She crawled underneath.
What she needed was to think. What she needed was Joan. What she needed was a pencil and some paper.
What she didn’t need was Seaweed.
He lifted up the edge of the tablecloth and stuck his head under. “What you doin’ there?”
“Nothing,” said Frankie, climbing out.
“Nothing?” Seaweed folded his arms across his chest and grinned. “Now, I seen people do nothin’ before, lots of times. I like to do a lot of nothin’ myself sometime after I’m done workin’. But you there, under that table? Well, that ain’t nothin’. Look to me like you were hidin’ from somebody.”
Frankie just stared at him, trying not to give anything away.
“You hidin’ from Mr. Stannum? Don’t you worry none, he shut up in his office since he got back. So he won’t be askin’ you to go get more chickens.”
“Mr. Stannum?” said Frankie. “Is he back already?”
“That right. What you mean already?” said Seaweed. “He been gone more than an hour. Just like you.”
Frankie shook her head. “How did he get here so quick?” she said under her breath.
“What you been doing,” said Seaweed, “tailin’ him?”
“Who, me?” asked Frankie.
“Nah, George Washington,” he said. “Do you see anybody else in here?”
Frankie put her hands on her hips. “What are you doing in here anyway?”
“Your momma came round the kitchen lookin’ for you,” said Seaweed. “And I seen you come in here while I was takin’ a break. What she nervous about all the time for, your momma?”
Frankie shrugged. That was an ancient mystery. “I’ve got to go.” She bolted for the door, but Seaweed grabbed her arm.
“Take it easy now,” he said. “Take it easy. Good thing I covered for you and told her where you was.”
“Where I was?” Frankie shook him off and raised her eyebrows. “Where was I?”
“Around the corner picking up eggs for the tater salad,” said Seaweed. “We was a dozen short.” Then he added, grinning like a goat, “Did you done forget?”
“Thanks.” Frankie smiled. “You saved my skin.”
“Again,” he said. “That makes two by my count.”
Frankie started past him, but Seaweed held up his hand. “So, you talk to your daddy yet and work it out?”
“Not yet,” said Frankie. “I’ve been a little busy.”
“Busy?” he asked. “Deal was, you get us a gig. Look, I make it real easy. Seeing how there’s a big party here on the Fourth and everybody’s welcome, just like your daddy say, I was thinkin’ that would be the night me and my boys could play.” He rocked back on his heels while letting the idea float in the air between them awhile.
“Daddy told Mrs. Inkletter she could play the organ and he’s already got an orchestra,” said Frankie.
“We had us a deal, remember?” Seaweed said, his eyes serious and his grin gone.
“I know,” said Frankie. “I know. I’m just saying that it might not be so easy, is all. You have just as much chance of getting him to say yes to you. Better chance, probably. I’m still in the kitchen, after all.” She rubbed the toe of her sandal over a dark spot in the wood floor. “Besides . . .”
“Besides what?” said Seaweed. “No way I can ask him. You know your daddy better than me.”
Frankie shook her head. If only that were true.