“Oh, a little bird told me.” Ramona tried to sound as annoying as any grown-up.īeezus was indignant. Quimby turned her attention to something on the stove. “Girls, I really don’t have time to play guessing games.” Mrs.
“Oh, just a friend,” answered their maddening mother. Quimby told the girls to set two extra places at the table for dinner. “I wonder what happened to Michael,” Beezus thought aloud. “Oh well,” said Ramona, “he’ll have to go back to Saudi Arabia sometime. She thinks we might say something to Aunt Beatrice.” Mom doesn’t want us to know because we don’t like Uncle Hobart. She didn’t know why she knew, but she knew.Īfter school, Ramona confided her fears to her sister, who said, “Oh, I don’t think that could be-Aunt Beatrice and Uncle Hobart.” She spoke so doubtfully that Ramona knew Beezus thought she might be right. She knew-she just knew-that Howie’s uncle was seeing her aunt. She had that sinking feeling she always felt when she rode down in an elevator. “Some teacher.”Ī terrible suspicion crossed Ramona’s mind.
“Willa Jean says your Uncle Hobart has a girlfriend.” On the bus the next morning, Ramona sat beside Howie. Kemp thought Willa Jean was perfect to begin with. Nursery school had done Willa Jean a world of good, as all the grown-ups except Mrs. Maybe she could ask Howie to bring Willa Jean over to play sometime when her mother stopped working. She remembered all too well the days back in kindergarten when she was known as Ramona the Pest. She remembered what it was like to be the littlest child in the neighborhood. “Good-by.” Willa Jean, who had nothing more to say, hung up. “I know,” said Ramona, meaning she knew he was a grown-up, not that he had a girlfriend. “He has a girlfriend, and anyway, he’s a grown-up.” Maybe your Uncle Hobart will play with you.” “Uncle Hobart showed me,” explained Willa Jean.
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