Free Hound Dog True by Linda Urban Page A

so hard for you. I'm sorry I made you think we were moving. We are not moving."
    Mattie cannot help but ask. "What about when the going gets tough?"
    "The tough are going to have to stick around and face things." Mama pats Mattie's hand, then holds it, her fingers still and warm. "Is there anything else you want to ask?"
    Mattie shakes her head, then stops.
    "When did you read my notebook?"
    "When?" Mama seems surprised. "Yesterday morning. After you and Potluck went to work."
    "Was it under my pillow?"
    "Yes. I searched around for it, and I found it under your pillow."
    If Mama read Mattie's notebook, that meant Quincy Sweet didn't.
    "I'm sorry," Mama says again.
    "It's okay," Mattie says. Quincy Sweet hadn't read her notebook. And Mama had. And now Mama knows.
She knows,
Mattie thinks, but she does not feel a panicky feeling. Mama knows about Mattie's writing. About Moe. About Mattie worrying about things.
    And she has said they would be staying.
    Together, they would be staying.
    "At least I know how to caulk a window now," Mama says. "You were very detailed about it. I actually learned a lot from your writing. Who knew it took three hundred sheets to fill a paper towel dispenser?"
    "Uncle Potluck knew," says Mattie.
    "Yes," Mama says slowly. "Yes, he did."
    Mama picks up the tomato can. "I'll get some scissors and take this thing down. And I'll figure some way to cover up the hole, too, so you can have some privacy."
    "Could we leave it up?" Mattie asks. "Maybe we could use it again sometime to talk about something else? Or just to say hello?"
    Mama smiles like this is the best plan she has heard in a long time.
    "Done," she says.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
    T HEY WOULD BE STAYING. For a long time, too.
    Mattie flops back on her pillow. Feels the edge of her notebook underneath. Her custodial wisdom notes would be useless now. Uncle Potluck would not be at the school when Mattie started next week. She would not be spending her lunches and recesses as his apprentice. She does not need the notebook anymore.
    What she needs is a friend.
    Mattie sits up. If Quincy Sweet had not sneak-read Mattie's notebook, then she had not been faking. Maybe it's even like Mama thinks. Maybe Quincy is a friend. Or the beginnings of one, anyway.
    Which means all Mattie has to do is not mess anything up. Not say anything stupid or baby for one more day, and then Quincy will go home to Nicolette and Duey and her hernia brother, and Mattie can say that she has a friend.
    It wouldn't be a lie.
    She might be alone at Mitchell P. Anderson Elementary—in the cafeteria or on the playground—but she could say to herself that she has a friend somewhere. Could do that all the way up till Halloween, when Quincy is supposed to visit Crystal. Then Mattie'd have to not mess up all over again—but that she could think about later.
    Right now what she has to think about is how to get out of talking to the moon in front of Quincy.
    Mattie listens for kitchen sounds. Hears Mama laughing with Uncle Tommy. She can hear Uncle Potluck, too, sounding the same as if he never did have to go to the hospital. Hears Miss Sweet's glass-shatter laugh. "I know!" she says. "I know!"
    Probably Quincy is in the kitchen, too, though Mattie doesn't hear any plunking. She should go out there. Should walk right in and say hello and smile a friend smile at Quincy. Except maybe she'd look too stupid or eager.
    It is just dark enough outside for Mattie to see her reflection in the window. She tries smiling at it. Big smiles. Little smiles. Stretched-tight smiles like Quincy wears. Makes her look worried, that last one. Mattie shifts her gaze past the window glass to the sky. The moon sits silent by the treetops, like a schoolyard kid hoping someone will ask her to play.
    "I'm sorry," Mattie whispers.
    More laughter from the kitchen. "Wait a minute, Potluck, that's not how it goes. Listen..." That was Uncle Tommy. He'd tell whatever story Uncle Potluck had just finished. Tell it