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like a bulldog when she got hold of something.
    Blithely Susan continued. “Her dropping her responsibilities and everything, I mean. My mother says she wouldn’t have the guts. My mother says your mother’s a free spirit.” One look at Sue’s face and they knew that was a bummer, to be a mother and a free spirit at one and the same time.
    â€œMy mother says your father’s a saint. She says my father would put his foot down fast if she tried anything like that.”
    â€œLike what?” Jenny became absolutely still. She stopped eating dry Cheerios as she waited for Sue’s answer.
    Oh, oh, Mary thought. Here we go.
    Susan’s eyebrows were eloquent. “You know. Abandoning her family and all.”
    Fists clenched, Jenny snarled, “Tell your mother to mind her own beeswax.”
    â€œThat’s dumb.” Mary left her frying pan and came over to lay a hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “It’s only for a few weeks. She’s not abandoning us. Besides, it’s fun. My father’s taking us out for dinner practically every night, and we get to stay up as late as we want.”
    Sue shrugged, and her shoulders almost touched her ears. “What do I know?” she said. “Well, I have to split. My mother’s taking me to the mall to outfit me for the summer. She goes ape when I wear jeans and sneaks every day. She thinks I ought to dress like a lady once in a while.” Sue minced around the kitchen in her imitation of a lady.
    Jenny said in her high voice, “I think you’d look sweet in a pinafore, don’t you, Mary? Why not outfit you in a pinafore?”
    A murderous silence fell. Into it Sue said, “A pinafore? What’s with you creeps?” Her face screwed into a tight little knot as she turned from one to the other of them. “You guys are cuckoo.”
    â€œListen, I have to hurry. Mrs. Hirshman expects me at noon. She’s getting a perm, and she wants me there in time to feed the baby his lunch.” Mary slapped the clean frying pan on top of the stove. “I haven’t got time to talk now, Sue. Call me later, O.K.?”
    Sue took off. Jenny said, “Who’s taking care of me while you’re taking care of the Hirshman kids?”
    â€œWhat’s the matter with you? You’re taking care of yourself. You always take care of yourself. You can go down to the school and play tennis. Or you can go to the library and get out some books. There are plenty of things you can do,” Mary said impatiently. “If you want, Mrs. Hirshman probably wouldn’t mind if you came to her house with me.”
    â€œNo thanks. I’m not tagging along when you’re on a job. I’m not your basic tagalong little sister.” Jenny’s lower lip stuck out, and she contemplated her bare feet. “Maybe I’ll play dress up,” she said. “I think that’s what I’ll do. I’ll use some of Mother’s makeup. I’ll put on lots of mascara and paint my cheeks like a clown’s, big and round and red. And lay on lots of eye shadow. That’d be a gas,” Jenny said, not smiling.
    â€œYou better stay out of Mother’s stuff,” Mary warned. “Just because she isn’t here doesn’t mean we can help ourselves. Stay out of her stuff.”
    Their father called, to check if they were all right. “He says he’ll make us linguine with clam sauce for supper,” Mary reported. “He’ll be home early because it takes a long time to chop the parsley and garlic, not to mention the clams. Do you want your egg sunny side up or once over easy?”
    â€œI don’t want any eggs,” said Jenny. “Eggs make me nauseous.”
    â€œSince when? Have it your way. What do I care if you starve to death.”
    â€œThe milk’s sour.” Jenny sniffed at the container. “How come the milk’s always sour these days? As I see it, so