private. But you do need to earn some money, donât you?â
I nod.
âListen.â She pats her big belly. âIâm due in a couple of weeks. Julie over there will be filling in for me here for a while. Sheâs a friend of mine from West Townfield, and she just got her beauticianâs license. But every day at lunch, around one oâclock, I go over to check on my husbandâs great-aunt. She lives in that huge yellow Victorian across the street.â Rhonda points out the window.
Itâs the house my mama has always admired. The one she would buy and fix up if she ever won the lottery.
âSheâs eighty-three and had a stroke a few years ago,â Rhonda tells me. âHas trouble getting around, so I walk down the street to get her mail from the post office; she has a PO box there. Iâve been telling her to put a mailbox near her front door, but sheâs quite stubborn. Always had a PO box and doesnât want to change. I also run to the corner storeâGraterâsâto pick up a few groceries for her if she needs anything. Then I spend a little time visiting with her. Anyway, I live about twenty minutes outside town, so once my little bundle of joy comes along, it will be harder to check on her; it wonât be as simple as just walking across the street. Maybe you could do that for me for six weeks or so? After school you could stop by for about an hour and make sure she has her mail and enough to eat and is okay. What do you think? Iâd have to talk it over with her first, of course, but Iâm thinking maybe she could pay you ten dollars a day. It will only beMonday through Friday. My husband checks on her during the weekend.â
I stand there dumbfounded. Did she just offer me a job?
Luanne nudges me. Grace is grinning like crazy.
âSounds good,â I say.
âStop by here tomorrow after school, and Iâll let you know if itâs a done deal or not.â
I quickly calculate the numbers in my head. Ten dollars a day, that would make fifty dollars a week. At six weeks, Iâd makeâ¦three hundred dollars, most of what I need. And Iâd have another six weeks or so left to somehow earn the remaining twenty-five.
The door jingles behind us as Grace, Luanne, and I leave Rhondaâs Cut and Curl. Me and Beauregard are on easy street now!
I stop for a moment to stare at the big monster of a place across the way. Peeling green gingerbread trim frames much of the house, and even though the wood siding is a faded yellow, it doesnât exactly look cheerful. It has stopped raining altogether, but an unexpected bolt of lightning flashes from behind,making the place look like some sort of haunted house from a movie. I only hope the occupant isnât as scary-looking. An eighty-three-year-old who has suffered a stroke. What, I suddenly wonder, have I gotten myself into?
Chapter 23
I walk to Rhondaâs Cut and Curl after school the next day, wondering if I have a job or not. Part of me is desperately hoping for the job, while part of me is desperately wishing Rhonda will say it wonât work out. Iâm a little scared of going into that creepy old house and looking after what could be a creepy old woman. I feel guilty for being uncomfortable that way; just because someone is old and has had a stroke doesnât mean she canât be nice, after all. But still, I canât shake the feeling things will be awkward.
Mama and Daddy have given me permission to accept Rhondaâs job offer, if there is one. They both think it will be good for me. But if it werenât forBeauregard, I doubt Iâd even consider it.
I think of Beauregard and how if I start going to Rhondaâs auntâs house every day after school, our usual routine will be interrupted. I guess heâll survive, though. Since the weather has been getting cooler, he doesnât go through as much water as he used to. He should be able to wait the
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