Rose had no need for her past. But her future—why not?
The food arrived. Rose ate slowly and savored the garlic, basil, and peanut sauces. Amazing how many things there were to experience if you were adventurous. Selena said it was good she had Skipping that afternoon.
“It’s the best exercise!” she said. “They play music seriously loud and you skip around the room.”
“You need somebody to teach you how to skip?” Astrid said.
“It’s a special way to skip! You’d know if you tried it.”
Rose thought it was good they felt comfortable enough to tease each other in front of her.
“You can come skip with me,” Selena said to Rose.
“It’s tempting,” Rose said, imagining herself skipping to “Changes.” She’d been listening to it on her phone whenever she had a chance, even disabling the ads so she could play it on a loop. “But I’ve got school service.”
“There are ways to get out of that,” Astrid said. “I haven’t done it since fifth grade.”
“No, it’s okay.” Rose was looking forward to it, actually. She was going to uncover the humanity in Mr. Slocum. Because that’s the kind of person I am.
When it came time to pay, Astrid was short, and Selena just had a credit card. The place was cash only.
“We’ll treat tomorrow,” Selena said.
CHAPTER 6
Were Rose’s taste buds working overtime? Every meal was a feast, even the quick dinner of spinach-and-cheese ravioli Evelyn had made that night. “Mm, this is incredible,” Rose said. “Hey, let’s have a party this weekend.”
“What?” Evelyn looked tired, shadows under her dark-blue eyes. Hadn’t she been sleeping well? Rose slept like a rock as soon as her bedside lamp was off.
“For Halloween. With music—and a psychic. My friend Selena knows someone really good. Is that okay with you?”
“Um, sure.” Though it sounded like Evelyn had been about to ask her something but then had stopped herself.
“I had a really great day,” Rose said, as if that was what Evelyn had been thinking about. “Not even Mr. Slocum could ruin it. I helped him organize papers, and he barely spoke to me. What a stick-in-the-mud, as Dad used to say. Something else that came from his grandma Clara, I guess.”
“Mr. Slocum is the one who sent you down to Ms. Pratt’s office.”
Ms. Pratt—the school psychologist. Rose was supposed to check in with Ms. Pratt this Friday. “Mr. Slocum thinks I don’t listen in class. I tried to tell him that I do listen, but he cut me right off.”
“Maybe it’s best to let him be. He’ll speak to you when he’s ready.”
“But I want him to talk to me now.”
“Why?”
Because, Rose told herself firmly, Mr. Slocum is alone, and I can help. But she didn’t say this out loud. Instead she said, “That reminds me. I should go upstairs and check with Mrs. Moore, see if she’d mind a loud party down here.”
“But her dogs—”
“I love animals! I’m starting work at a vet’s office!”
“I know. If you get scared, you can always call me.”
Rose shook her head. Had Evelyn always been such a worrier?
Upstairs, Rose knocked on Mrs. Moore’s door and heard the dogs scuffling behind it. When the door opened, she was as happy to see them as they were to jump on her. They seemed to remember that she’d taken them to the dog run—or rather, that they’d pulled her there.
“Oh, my dear, come in!” Mrs. Moore said. Rose realized she’d never seen Mrs. Moore indoors and close up like this. Her skin looked thin, papery. She wore a flowery housedress that zipped up the front, and she smelled like minty toothpaste. “How lovely to see you. Is that a new hairdo?”
“You like it?”
“You have such lovely blue eyes. I never knew.”
“Mrs. Moore, I’d like to have a party this Saturday night. It might get loud. If that’s a problem, I’ll cancel it.” Rose really hoped she wouldn’t have to.
“The benefits of old age—you get quite deaf,” said Mrs. Moore. “The noise won’t bother me at all. Would you like to come in and sit down?”
“I’d love to.”
Rose followed Mrs. Moore to the living room. The place had the same layout as Rose’s, but the unfamiliar furniture made it look entirely different. Mrs. Moore had wooden benches with cushions and tiny Persian rugs. Here the rugs were out of place, scattered to the corners, no doubt because of the dogs—who had gone to another room. “Probably to sit on my bed, where they’re not allowed,” Mrs. Moore said. “How nice, my dear, having you here.”
Rose was thinking the same thing. How important it was to be a good listener. For a moment she got lost in this thought, and when she tuned in again, she heard, “—you poor thing, so much sadness in your young life.”