That was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me. It took us about thirty minutes to get home. We carried the stuff around back. I packed her milk in the snow while she dragged the rest of the groceries inside. I climbed in after her.

“Want to play cards?” she asked.

“Sure.”

We played blackjack and Go Fish for about an hour. She won most of the time and even when she didn’t I had the feeling she was letting me win. Finally I said, “Do you know what time it is?”

She looked at her watch. “It’s almost four-thirty.”

“I’ve got to be at work in a half hour.”

“Today was fun,” she said.

“Yeah, it was.”

It had been fun. But I was sure there would be heck to pay.

CHAPTER Eleven

Hau’oli l hnau is Hawaiian for Happy Birthday.

GRACE’S DIARY

On Tuesdays I worked the early shift, which happily meant I didn’t have to close. Even better, it was payday. I was glad Grace and I had gotten food earlier, as it was far too risky to sneak any out today. Mr. Dick had come by to drop off our checks, which he always did grudgingly, and then he stuck around to make sure we were earning our wages. Just before I left I folded my check into the front pocket of my trousers. When I got home I went straight out back. Grace was reading Black Like Me.

“So about tomorrow,” I said.

“What’s tomorrow?”

I figured she just liked to hear me say it. “Your birthday…”

She smiled. “Can we play hooky again?”

“I better not. But we’re going to have a party. What’s your favorite kind of cake?”

“Chocolate.”

“Chocolate it is. Anything else you want?”

She shook her head. “Just cake.”

“It will be fun. I’m going to invite Joel. Is that okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, if you don’t…”

“No, he’s cute.”

I felt a pang of jealousy. “Okay. I’ll ask if he wants to come.”

“I can’t wait.

After a moment I said, “Well, I better get inside before my parents wonder where I am.”

“Good night, Eric.”

“Good night.”

As I crawled out, I was thinking how much I liked the way she spoke my name. I walked along the driveway back to the front of the house and went in through the front door. My mother and father were in the living room, my mother reading Look magazine and my father in his La-Z-Boy watching The Beverly Hillbillies.

“Hi, honey,” my mom said.

“Hi.” I sat down on the floor next to her to watch the television. At the commercial break my mom said, “How was your day?”

My father said, “Keep it down, the Buick commercial’s on.”

“Sorry,” my mom said.

“It was fine,” I said, sotto voce.

“What did you learn at school?”

“Nothing.”