FRANKIE STUFFED THE LETTERS down the neck of her dress and set off to find Joan. She found her on the side porch, putting the laundry into Mother’s wringer washer. “What are you doing?” Frankie asked.
“Mother told Katie she wouldn’t be needing her help around here, what with Daddy in a bad way and not working,” said Joan. She poured in the powdered soap. “Do you know how to work this thing?”
Frankie shook her head. “Never mind that. Look at these.” She pulled the letters from her dress and shoved them at Joan. They sat on the edge of the porch, and Frankie waited, swinging her legs, while Joan read each one.
When Joan finished, she tucked the letters back into their envelopes and laid them on the porch next to her. “It seems this is too late.”
“No,” said Frankie. “It isn’t too late if Mother wants to open up the restaurant again. That’s what Daddy wants.”
“Mother doesn’t want anything to do with that place,” said Joan. “You’ve heard her.”
“But we have to change her mind,” said Frankie.
“I don’t understand you, Frankie,” said Joan. “If Mother opens the restaurant, you’ll have to work there. We all will.” She got to her feet and went back to the washer. She closed the lid. “I thought you hated working there?”
Frankie looked up at the sky. “I thought so, too.”
• • •
Daddy was still sleeping when Mother returned from the market that afternoon. “How is your father?” Mother asked as she finished putting away the bag of groceries.
“Same,” answered Frankie. “Tired.”
Mother filled a glass of water from the spigot and took a few sips. “Where’s Joan?”
“Feeding Dixie.”
Elizabeth folded the grocery bag and slid it into the cabinet under the sink. “Mother, do you need anything else?”
“Check the clothes on the line, would you, Princess?” said Mother. “They ought to be dry by now.”
Elizabeth slipped out the kitchen door and headed for the backyard.
“Anybody come by today, Frankie?” Mother asked.
“Just Mr. Dawes from the bank,” said Frankie. “And Uncle Reinhart.”
“Mr. Dawes?” said Mother. “He came here?”
Frankie nodded. “But I sent them on their way after ten minutes, don’t worry.”
“What did he want?” asked Mother.
“He wanted to talk to Daddy about the restaurant,” said Frankie. “He thinks we should make it open for business.”
Mother’s mouth tightened. “He said that, did he? Well, that’s very easy for him to say. And what did your uncle have to say about that? Does he think the same?”
Frankie shook her head. “Uncle Reinhart thinks Daddy should sell the place.”
“Well, I never thought I’d say this, but I’m with Reinhart.” Then Mother narrowed her eyes. “Frances Marie, how many times have I warned you about eavesdropping? You’re not to be listening in on conversations that don’t concern you, understand?”
Frankie said that yes, she did.
“Good,” said Mother. “Now, what else was said?”
“That’s all, pretty much.” Frankie didn’t want to tell Mother the part about Daddy still paying the employees even though the restaurant was closed. What would happen to Amy and Mr. Washington and Seaweed if Mother made him stop?
Mother leaned against the sink basin and brought her hand to her head. “Why did all of this have to happen? This is punishment for something, all this bad luck.” She looked up at the kitchen ceiling. “What in the world are we going to do now?”
“We could open the restaurant,” Frankie offered.
“Let me tell you something—if we opened that restaurant, we’d have nothing but a bunch of empty chairs. There we’d be, watching the people walk right on by our door, seeing their faces and knowing they think Hermann’s in cahoots with Hitler.”
Frankie fingered the letters she had stashed in her dress. “But not everybody thinks that.” She pulled out the letters. “Look.”
“What are those?” said Mother, eyeing the envelopes. “This is your father’s mail. Frances Baum, you have no business reading these.”
“But they are from people who think he is innocent,” said Frankie.
“He is innocent!” shouted Mother.
Frankie nodded. “I know that. But now we know that other people know that, too.” She swallowed. “So maybe the restaurant will be all right if we open.”
There was fear in Mother’s eyes. Enough that she didn’t say another word. She just took the letters and headed down the hall to check on Daddy.