Don't Kiss Him Good-Bye (21 page)

Louanne and I looked at each other and almost burst out in giggles.

“Come along, then. Let’s have lunch, and then we’ll make a plan for the rest of the day.” She turned on the hob, then reached down and scratched Growl behind the ears. He immediately rolled over and bared his big belly for a tummy rub. She obliged, and Louanne burst into a smile.

Half an hour later we sat at the kitchen table. Aunt Maude served up the Stinking Bishop with a side of bread. Louanne, the vegetarian, dutifully ate some. If you asked me, it smelled like wet dog or Dad’s gym socks after a long tennis match. I thought back to my science class. Lots of bacteria culture here. Lots. I dug into a flaky pie she’d set in front of me.

“Delicious!” I said, forking the crust and slurping up the gravy. “What is it?”

“Kidney pie, of course,” Aunt Maude answered matter-of-factly.

Kidney pie. Of course. The kidneys had probably been taken from the organ donors buried in the back garden. Which reminded me . . .

“Aunt Maude, I have a favor to ask you. I wonder . . . I wonder if we might spend the afternoon cleaning up the back garden area.”

Louanne dropped her knife and her jaw.

“Whatever for, dear?”

“Well,” I answered, “Mom really likes to garden and, in fact, might be invited to join the Wexburg Ladies Association and Garden Club.”

“My goodness, that’s quite an accomplishment,” Maude said approvingly. “I think it would be wonderful for her to spruce up the back with some new plants—breathe new life into the garden, as it were. And a lovely thought for you girls to do the work for her as a surprise for her return this evening. I’ll sit outside and supervise. And whip up a little snack when you get peckish.”

“No!” Louanne stood up so abruptly, her plate clattered to the floor.

Chapter 45

Aunt Maude and I looked at each other in surprise. Just as Aunt Maude was going to intervene, Louanne turned to me. “Savvy, would you please leave me alone with Aunt Maude for a minute?”

“Sure.” I headed up to my room. What did they have to talk about that didn’t include me? Could it be related, somehow, to Louanne’s problem?

A few minutes later Louanne called me. “You can come down now.”

When I walked downstairs, I was shocked to find Growl locked in his crate like a petty thief, staring at me—
me
, his archenemy!—to spring him, when two dog lovers had obviously locked him up.

Another surprise awaited me in the kitchen. “Whose cat is that?” I asked with astonishment as I saw Aunt Maude holding a thin orange tabby.

Louanne sneezed. Twice. “It’s bmine,” she said, her nose already stuffing up.

“That’s not your cat! You’re allergic to cats. And so is Dad,” I said, words slowing down as it all began to make sense. So this little guy was Louanne’s big problem.

“How did this happen?” I said as the kitten cuddled in Aunt Maude’s ample, soft arms and Growl actually did growl in the background.

“Well, one day I was taking the dog out in the morning, and this little thing was shivering by the back door. She was really skinny. I could see her ribs, just like they show you on the animal rescue shows on TV. So I went back into the house and got a little water and gave it to the cat.”

“So then what?”

“Well, then I brought a towel for it to nest on way back where the garden is tangled, and it kept rubbing itself up against me to be friends, which made my allergies bad. And I got cat dander on my clothes. And then that got to Dad. And then he started having trouble too.” She sneezed again, and Aunt Maude stepped back.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” I asked.

“We don’t know anyone here in Wexburg who could take a cat,” Louanne said, shrugging her shoulders in a gesture that was more mature than her ten years. “I didn’t want it to go to the pound. Where it might . . .
die
!”

Aah! So there was the inspiration for her Scrabble vocabulary.

“Bosh,” Aunt Maude said. “We’re not going to let this cat go to the rescue shelter. I’ll just ring up a few people and we’ll have her a home in no time.”

Sure enough, while I washed and dried the dishes and Louanne blew her way through a whole box of Kleenex, Aunt Maude rung a few people. Half an hour later, Tabby had a home.

“I’ll be back soon,” Aunt Maude promised, swirling her cape around her as she breezed out the door.

While we finished the kitchen, I asked Louanne what finally made her ask for help. “The cat was starting to scratch me. And it was making me sick—and Dad, too. I wrote . . . well, I wrote in to the Asking for Trouble person at your school.” She blushed. “I’m sorry, Savvy, but that’s really why I was so interested in the paper. Not that I’m not interested in you, too.”

“No problem,” I said. “I had an extra reason for going to your dog show, too.”

Her runny nose had slowed down now that Tabby was gone. “Anyway, that Asking for Trouble person told me to talk to someone who had the same values as me. Only I didn’t know anyone else who loves animals like I do. Until Mom said Aunt Maude was coming. She does.”

Yeah, Savvy. You’d better listen up too. Who do you know who shares your values? Who do you need to ask for help? Because it’s not getting better; it’s only making you worse.

Chapter 46

Monday morning at school, Penny pulled me aside. “Hey, Tommy just asked me for your number . . . again. Said he was pretty sure he’d written down the wrong one last time he asked me. I think Chloe overheard too.”

“Did he say what he wanted?” I asked, remaining calm on the outside. On the inside, I was running over how my hair looked, if my lip gloss was fresh, and if my eyeliner could have smudged in this morning’s typical mist.

She shook her head. “Nope, he didn’t say anything more. I hope it’s okay that I gave it to him.” She looked slyly at me.

I punched her arm and went to class.

Chapter 47