can’t Beezus go?” she asked.

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Mrs. Quimby opened the front door, and when Picky-picky hesitated, vexed by the

cold wind that swept into the room, assisted him out with her toe. “She can’t sleep over at Mary Jane’s house with a bunch of girls from her class.”

A year ago Ramona would have agreed

with her mother so that her mother would

love her more than Beezus, but this year she knew that she too might want to spend the

night at someone’s house someday. “Why

can’t Beezus sleep at Mary Jane’s?” she asked.

“Because she comes home exhausted and

grouchy.” Mrs. Quimby stood by the door,

waiting. Picky-picky’s yowl was twisted by the wind, and when she opened the door,

another cold gust swept through the house.

“With the price of fuel oil being what it

is, we can’t afford to let the cat out,” remarked Mr. Quimby.

“Would you like to take the responsibility 156

if I don’t let him out?” asked Mrs. Quimby, before she continued with her answer to

Ramona. “There are four people in the

family, and she has no right to make the

whole day disagreeable for the rest of us

because she has been up half the night giggling with a bunch of silly girls. Besides, a growing girl needs her rest.”

Ramona silently agreed with her mother

about Beezus’s coming home cross after such a party.At the same time, she wanted to make things easier for herself when she was in

junior high school. “Maybe this time they

would go to sleep earlier,” she suggested.

“Fat chance,” said Mrs. Quimby, who rarely spoke so rudely. “And furthermore, Ramona, Mrs. Kemp did not come right out and say

so, but she did drop a hint that you are not playing as nicely with Willa Jean as you

might.”

Ramona heaved a sigh that seemed to

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come from the soles of her feet. In the bedroom, Beezus, who had run out of real sobs, was working hard to force out fake sobs to show her parents how mean they were to her.

Mrs. Quimby ignored the sighs and the

sobs and continued. “Ramona, you know that getting along at the Kemps’ is your job in this family. I’ve told you that before.”

How could Ramona explain to her

mother that Willa Jean had finally caught

on that Sustained Silent Reading was just

plain reading a book? For a while,Willa Jean wanted Ramona to read aloud a few boring

books the Kemps owned, the sort of books

people who did not know anything about

children so often gave them.Willa Jean listened to them several times, grew bored, and now insisted on playing beauty shop. Ramona did not want her fingernails painted by Willa Jean and knew she would be blamed if Willa Jean spilled nail polish. Instead of Mrs. Kemp’s 158

taking care of Ramona, Ramona was taking care of Willa Jean.

Ramona looked at the carpet, sighed again, and said,“I try.” She felt sorry for herself, mis-understood and unappreciated. Nobody in