“I couldn’t ever picture you doing something like that. You’re such a nice person.”

“Even nice people can flip out sometimes, Mom,” Junie told her. “It happens.”

“Mom,” Nate whispered, “I need to talk to you. In private.” She was washing the dishes, but now she followed him to the pantry.

“We have to say something to Junie about this party tomorrow,” he told her. “I’ve got a bad feeling that hardly any kids are going to show up.”

The look on his mother’s face reminded him for a second of his little sister waking up from a nap. “Why would you think that, Nate?” she said. “Who’s going to ruin a little girl’s birthday party just because our family is having problems?”

“You’re not the one who rides the school bus every day. Kids can be mean.”

“If a few parents are narrow-minded enough to keep their children from attending Junie’s party, they’ll have their conscience to deal with,” she told him. “But your sister’s invited practically half the school to this event of hers. It’s just as well if not everyone comes. We might not have enough favors and prizes to go around if they do.”

“You don’t know what it’s like in town, Mom,” he said to her. “People are talking about us. Parents are telling their kids not to talk to me. Why do you think you hardly have a single piano student left?”

She didn’t answer. Of her five original students, the only one remaining was Buster Haines, the librarian, who had been working on “Für Elise” for the last four years.

“You gotta listen to me, Mom,” Nate said. “Junie could get hurt here.”

“I know more than you think about what’s going on,” she said. “But I don’t know what you want me to do about it. And even if there was something I could do, to be honest, I don’t think I have it in me.”

•  •  •

For the family birthday dinner Uncle Harold brought Chinese food: chop suey and fried wontons and chicken fried rice. Poppa had complained that he didn’t like foreign cooking, but Nate’s mother had told him it was Junie’s night.