Free Grace by Richard Paul Evans

playin’ hooky?” the waitress asked
    â€œScience Fair,” Grace said.
    â€œOh,” the woman said.
    I ordered a hot dog with relish and a side order of French fries. Grace ordered a bowl of tomato soup with a grilled cheese sandwich. Afterward we each ordered apple pie à la mode.
    When no one was around Grace asked, “So, do you like playing hooky?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œYou were afraid we were going to get caught, weren’t you?”
    â€œA little.”
    â€œMe too. But I was so sick of sitting inside all the time, I had to get out. Sometimes you just have to take chances.” She looked up at a clock on the wall. “We have about an hour of school left. Anything else you want to do?”
    I shrugged. “I’m fine.”
    â€œI’ve got to pick up some things. Do you mind?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œGood. I’ll pay for lunch. You’ve fed me enough.” Grace brought out the red pouch and paid the check, then we started back home. On the way she said, “I need to go to Warshaw’s.”
    I felt a wave of panic. “I can’t. My mother works there.”
    â€œOh. Will you wait for me outside?”
    I thought about it. “Okay.”
    I sat out on the curb at the side of the store, watching shoppers come and go and praying my mother didn’t come out. Grace was gone for nearly twenty minutes—long enough that I began to fear she’d been captured. I was relieved when she finally emerged. She was pushing a shopping cart with two large grocery bags. I walked over to meet her. “Is your mom really thin with brown hair that combs back like this?” She raked her hair back over her ears.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œI think she rang up my groceries. She’s pretty. You look just like her.”
    I suppose that was a compliment but I was more concerned that Grace had been seen by my mom. “We better go home,” I said.
    I pushed the cart to the edge of the parking lot, then we both took a bag and started walking. My bag was pretty heavy.
    â€œWhat did you buy?”
    â€œFood, mostly. I got some bread and shredded wheat and milk; it should last me for a while. I’ve felt bad that you’ve had to feed me.”
    â€œI don’t mind,” I said.
    â€œYou’ve been really sweet. You’re always nice, aren’t you?”
    Somehow this sounded like an insult. “Not always. I can be trouble.”
    She grinned. “But you’re mostly nice. Do you know how I know? When you first saw me eating food out of the Dumpster, even though we weren’t friends then, you pretended that you didn’t notice.” She smiled. “Thank you for that.”
    â€œI just didn’t want you to be embarrassed.”
    â€œI wish there were more people like you.”
    That was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me. It took us about thirty minutes to get home. We carried the stuff around back. I packed her milk in the snow while she dragged the rest of the groceries inside. I climbed in after her.
    â€œWant to play cards?” she asked.
    â€œSure.”
    We played blackjack and Go Fish for about an hour. She won most of the time and even when she didn’t I had the feeling she was letting me win. Finally I said, “Do you know what time it is?”
    She looked at her watch. “It’s almost four-thirty.”
    â€œI’ve got to be at work in a half hour.”
    â€œToday was fun,” she said.
    â€œYeah, it was.”
    It had been fun. But I was sure there would be heck to pay.

CHAPTER Eleven
    Hau’oli lhnau is Hawaiian for Happy Birthday.
    GRACE’S DIARY
    On Tuesdays I worked the early shift, which happily meant I didn’t have to close. Even better, it was payday. I was glad Grace and I had gotten food earlier, as it was far too risky to sneak any out today. Mr. Dick had come by to drop off our checks, which he always did grudgingly, and