Kathy’s mother wanted her to see the value of helping those who couldn’t help themselves-an important lesson in life that Kathy’d taken to heart. She was the one who’d come up with the sewing project. Her plan was that she and Liza could make their entire school wardrobes, using her mother’s Singer sewing machine. Liza hadn’t seemed that interested. She’d twice postponed their shopping trip to buy the pattern and fabric. She’d had a good excuse each time, but Kathy was still hurt. When she’d complained to her mother, Livia suggested Liza might be too embarrassed to admit she didn’t have enough money to pay her share. Kathy understood completely. She’d even set aside ten dollars from her own weekly allowance to share with her friend. She’d appeared at Liza’s door that morning, ready (finally!) to make the trip into town, thinking how excited Liza would be when she realized Kathy was going to make her dreams come true. Kathy could just picture them in their matching outfits, not the same fabric or color, of course, because each of them needed to express her individuality, like it said in Seventeen magazine. But at school, come fall, seeing the similar style of their skirts and weskits, everyone would know they were the very best of friends. She’d been furious when she found out Liza was gone, but she’d decided to turn the other cheek. The principle of Absolute Love had taught her she could rise above petty disappointments. She’d even left a lovely birthday gift in Liza’s room as a surprise for her friend.

At the five-and-dime, she was so caught up in the notion of her own largess, she bought two patterns, one for each of them. In part, this was to show that all was forgiven and in part because she needed a much larger size. She bought three yards of pink wool for herself and a nice big remnant of gray corduroy for Liza. She was eager to share the news, but when Liza called to thank her for the bath powder, Kathy forgot her resolve. Disappointment had welled up and she’d nearly burst into tears until Liza finally explained. Poor, poor thing. She couldn’t help it if her mother was weak.

When Kathy heard her father’s car pulling into the drive, she quickly hid the half-empty ravioli can behind the silverware canteen, then scampered into the living room and flung herself in a chair, her legs over one arm of it. The Howdy Doody Show was on, and for all he knew she’d been sitting in the same casual posture for half the afternoon. “Daddy, is that you?”

“Yes.”