Gladys

She and Jude sat in the back seat with True Blue between them. Jude’s arm circled the dog’s neck like one of them was drowning and the other was a lifeguard, but who knew which was which. Meanwhile, True loved every minute of the short ride. She kept pushing past Jude to stick her head out the window. Grinning, she looked back at them. Is riding in a car the best thing ever invented or what?

Jude said his mother had been bitten by a dog when she was young and it scarred her for life. Mama said that with help, people could overcome bad experiences. Gladys said True could melt the heart of the worst dog hater.

But Jude knew his own mother. Once she made up her mind about something, guess who could change it? Nobody, that’s who.

Gladys could tell he’d abandoned all hope.

Which made her even more determined to prove him wrong.

Mama had called Jude’s mother to say she was driving him home. When they pulled up in front of the house, Diamond was cutting the grass with a push mower that looked as if it belonged in a museum of garden implements. She was red-faced and sweaty and clearly in no mood. The neat-as-a-pin neighbor was outside, too, standing in his yard watching her grunt and shove the mower. He was wringing his hands as if he wanted to say something but didn’t dare.

When Diamond saw Mama drive up, she dropped the mower and crossed the grass, wiping her brow and smiling.

“Suza! Thanks for bringing Jude—”

She broke off when True’s head jutted out the window. Her face froze in disbelief. True, of course, began to bark. Diamond’s hands flew up.

“It’s okay, Mom,” Jude tried. “It’s—”

“Ms. Suza!” The house’s front door opened and out flew Spider, waving a broken lightsaber. “You came to my house. And you brought Pookie!”

His mother grabbed him and pulled him to her. Her horror was giving way to confusion. Horrified confusion.

“Pookie? You know its name?”

“Her name is True,” Gladys said. “True Blue.”

Diamond began to tremble.

So did True.

It was possible she peed the car seat.

“Diamond,” Ms. Suza said. “The kids have a lot of explaining to do. I mean, a lot. But I promise you this isn’t a vicious dog. I’d never trust her anywhere near children if she was.”

With that, True squeezed out the window and sprinted away.

“True!”

“Pookie!”

No! Not again! But this time, when they called her, she slowed. By the time she got to the next yard, she stopped.

“Good girl,” the neighbor said. His voice was deep as the Atlantic Ocean.

“Good girl.” Jude jumped out of the car and ran to kneel beside True. “Good, good girl.”

The mothers were talking to each other. Actually, Mama was doing all the talking while Diamond listened, slack-jawed.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” the neighbor said as Gladys joined them on his lawn. Jude, who badly needed lessons in etiquette, was too busy calming True to notice.

“I’m Gladys,” she said, “and this is True.”

“I’m Mr. Peters, and this is also true.”

Mr. Peters bent to get a closer look at True and to Gladys’s surprise, True didn’t flinch or jump away. Instead, she studied him from under her old-man eyebrows.

“What a fine dog,” he said, lifting his matching old-man eyebrows. “Is she yours?”

“She’s Jude’s. We just need to convince his mother of that fact.”

Mr. Peters looked worried.

“I keep trying to explain about my mother,” Jude told him. “But Gladys is too stubborn to listen.”

“He underestimates my mother,” Gladys told Mr. Peters. “She’s an expert on finding the good in every situation and every person.”

“It’ll never work,” Jude said.

“You don’t know.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t. Just think of all the things that have worked so far.” She held up her fingers to count them off, but Jude’s mother interrupted.

“Mister!” She crooked her finger at him. “Get yourself over here. Now.”