The family ate in companionable silence

for a few moments until the edge was taken off their hunger. “A little change once in a 169

while does make a difference,” said Mrs.

Quimby. “It does us all good.”

“Especially after the way—” Ramona

stopped herself from finishing with,“—after the way Beezus acted this afternoon.” Instead she sat up straight and smiled.

“Well, I wasn’t the only one who—”

Beezus also stopped in midsentence and

smiled. The parents looked stern, but they managed to smile. Suddenly everyone relaxed and laughed.

The old man, Ramona noticed, was eating

a steak. She wished her father could afford a steak.

As much as she enjoyed her hamburger,

Ramona was unable to finish. It was too

much. She was happy when her mother did

not say, “Someone’s eyes are bigger than her stomach.” Her father, without commenting

on the unfinished hamburger, included her

in the orders of apple pie with hot cinna-

mon sauce and ice cream.

Ramona ate what she could, and after

watching the ice cream melt into the cinnamon sauce, she glanced over at the old man, who was having a serious discussion with

the waitress. She seemed surprised and upset 172

about something. The Muzak, conversation of other customers, and rattle of dishes made eavesdropping impossible. The waitress left.

Ramona saw her speak to the manager, who

listened and then nodded. For a moment

Ramona thought the man might not have

enough money to pay for the steak he had

eaten. Apparently he did, however, for after listening to what the waitress had to say, he left a tip under the edge of his plate and picked up his check. To Ramona’s embarrassment, he stood up, winked, and saluted her again. Then he left. Ramona did not

know what to make of him.

She turned back to her family, whose

smiles were now genuine rather than deter-

mined. The sight of them gave her courage

to ask the question that had been nibbling at the back of her mind, “Daddy, you aren’t going to be a college dropout, are you?”

Mr. Quimby finished a mouthful of pie

173

before he answered, “Nope.”

Ramona wanted to make sure. “And you

won’t ever be a checker and come home cross again?”

“Well,” said her father, “I can’t promise I won’t come home cross, but if I do, it won’t be from standing at the cash register trying to remember forty-two price changes in

the produce section while a long line of

customers, all in a hurry, wait to pay for their groceries.”

Ramona was reassured.

When the waitress descended on the

Quimbys to offer the grown-ups a second

cup of coffee, Mr. Quimby said, “Check,

please.”

The waitress looked embarrassed.“Well . . .

a . . .” She hesitated. “This has never happened before, but your meals have already

been paid for.”

The Quimbys looked at her in astonish-