Finally the girls heard their father say in a normal voice, “I think I’ll take a shower before supper.” This remark was reassuring to Ramona.

“What’ll we do now?” whispered Beezus. “I’m scared to go out.”

Worry and curiosity, however, urged Beezus and Ramona into the hall.

Trying to pretend they were not concerned about their family, the girls walked into the kitchen where Mrs. Quimby was removing leftovers from the refrigerator. “I think we’ll eat at home after all,” she said, looking sad and anxious.

Without being asked, Ramona began to deal four place mats around the dining-room table, laying them all right side up. When she was cross with Beezus, she laid her sister’s place mat face down.

Mrs. Quimby looked at the cold creamed cauliflower with distaste, returned it to the refrigerator, and reached for a can of green beans before she noticed her silent and worried daughters watching her for clues as to what might be wrong.

Mrs. Quimby turned and faced Beezus and Ramona. “Girls, you might as well know. Your father has lost his job.”

“But he liked his job,” said Ramona, regretting the loss of that hamburger and those French fries eaten in the coziness of a booth. She had known her father to change jobs because he had not liked his work, but she had never heard of him losing a job.

“Was he fired?” asked Beezus, shocked at the news.

Mrs. Quimby opened the green beans and dumped them into a saucepan before she explained. “Losing his job was not your father’s fault. He worked for a little company. A big company bought the little company and let out most of the people who worked for the little company.”

“But we won’t have enough money.” Beezus understood these things better than Ramona.

“Mother works,” Ramona reminded her sister.

“Only part time,” said Mrs. Quimby. “And we have to make payments to the bank for the new room. That’s why I went to work.”

“What will we do?” asked Ramona, alarmed at last. Would they go hungry? Would the men from the bank come and tear down the new room if they couldn’t pay for it? She had never thought what it might be like not to have enough money—not that the Quimbys ever had money to spare. Although Ramona had often heard her mother say that house payments, car payments, taxes, and groceries seemed to eat up money, Mrs. Quimby somehow managed to make their money pay for all they really needed with a little treat now and then besides.

“We will have to manage as best we can until your father finds work,” said Mrs. Quimby. “It may not be easy.”

“Maybe I could baby-sit,” volunteered Beezus.