And when I did happen to run into him, I simply said hello like he was someone I barely even knew.
It was working, too! I was growing stronger by the day. Who cared about auctions and basket boys? I didn’t!
Friday morning I got up early, collected what few eggs there were in the coop, watered the front yard,
which was by now definitely green, ate breakfast, and got ready for school.
But as I was running a brush through my hair, I couldn’t help thinking about Shelly Stalls.
It was auction day. She’d probably been up since five, making her hair into some impossibly pouffy do.
So what? I told myself. So what? But as I was throwing on my windbreaker, I eyed my money tin and hesitated.
What if… No! No-no-no! I ran to the garage, got my bike, and pushed out of the driveway.
And I was in the street and on my way when Mrs. Stueby flew right in my path.
“Julianna,” she called, waving her hand through the air. “Here, dear. Take this.
I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to get it to you. I keep missing you in the mornings.”
I didn’t even know how much she owed me. At that moment I didn’t care.
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