better give me some of your leftover candy.”
“Why should I?” she asked. “Just because I was smart enough to put mine in a safe place —”
“Candy!” the Bean wailed. “My candy all gone?” The terrible truth had finally sunk in.
“Now look what you’ve done.” Dad frowned at Lizzie.
Mom frowned at Dad. “It’s not her fault. It’s the puppy’s.”
“Don’t blame Jack!” Charles frowned at Mom.
“Uh-oh.” The Bean started to wail even more loudly.
Buddy looked from one face to another and began to whimper.
Why is everybody so mad? Did I do something wrong?
“Oh, Buddy! It’s okay!” Lizzie couldn’t blame Buddy for crying. She felt like crying, too. Jack looked up at her with his big brown eyes. His tail drooped, his ears were back, and his rear legs trembled. Lizzie knew that meant he was scared and upset. “Wait, everybody!” She dropped to her knees and began to pet Jack. “We have to stop arguing. We’re all upset, and now Jack and Buddy are upset, too.”
“But —” Charles began.
“Lizzie is right,” interrupted Dad. “Charles, why don’t you take Buddy outside? I’ll take the Bean upstairs and get him dressed.”
“And Lizzie and I will clean up,” Mom said.“Then maybe we can start this day all over again.” She smiled at Dad.
Lizzie felt better — so much better that she turned to face Charles. “And I’ll give you and the Bean some of my candy,” she said. It wasn’t a big sacrifice, since she was sick of SweeTarts and Life Savers, the only candy she had left. But the offer made Charles smile.
Lizzie petted Jack’s head as they watched Charles and Buddy go outside. “It’s okay. I bet anything that you’ll be friends when you get to know each other.” Jack snuffled, put his paws up on Lizzie’s leg, and gazed at her with his big brown eyes.
Are you mad at me? I think the other person is upset with me.
“It’s okay,” Lizzie told the puppy again as she began to help Mom pick up the garbage. Thenshe spotted something lying on the floor. A crumpled envelope and a torn, stained sheet of paper — with brightly colored drawings all over it. “Oh, no,” she said. “My letter to Kit Smithers!” She turned to face Jack. “You are a very,
very
bad —”
CHAPTER FIVE
“Lizzie! Wait!” Mom stopped Lizzie just in time, before she yelled at the puppy. “Remember what you said? He doesn’t understand what he did wrong.”
“But my letter!” Lizzie held up the torn, crumpled scraps. “I worked so hard on that picture of Sunny!” She let her arm drop to her side. Mom was right. It wasn’t fair to yell at Jack. But boy, was she mad.
Mom took the letter and smoothed it out on the kitchen table. “I wonder if we used some tape . . . No, it’s really too far gone.” She turned to Lizzie. “That really was a nice picture you drew,” she said. “I can see that. But you’ll just have to print the letter out again and draw some more pictures.”
“I don’t have time! I’m supposed to be at the shelter by noon.” Lizzie had not missed a single Saturday volunteering at the animal shelter, and she wasn’t about to start now. She crossed her arms and glared at Jack. Lizzie had really, really wanted that letter to be on its way to Kit Smithers by today. She couldn’t wait to hear back from her favorite author. Maybe she was acting babyish, but she couldn’t help it.
“I’ll tell you what,” said Mom. “You have the letter on the computer, right? How about if we do some research together and see if we can find an e-mail address to send it to? That would be faster than the regular mail anyway.”
Lizzie thought about this. “But what about my drawings?”
“I can attach a picture of you with Buddy instead. Kit Smithers would probably enjoy seeing what you look like.” Mom put a hand on Lizzie’s shoulder. “I know you’re disappointed, but it’s not the end of the world.”
Easy for Mom to say.
Lizzie looked down at Jack. He
“Why should I?” she asked. “Just because I was smart enough to put mine in a safe place —”
“Candy!” the Bean wailed. “My candy all gone?” The terrible truth had finally sunk in.
“Now look what you’ve done.” Dad frowned at Lizzie.
Mom frowned at Dad. “It’s not her fault. It’s the puppy’s.”
“Don’t blame Jack!” Charles frowned at Mom.
“Uh-oh.” The Bean started to wail even more loudly.
Buddy looked from one face to another and began to whimper.
Why is everybody so mad? Did I do something wrong?
“Oh, Buddy! It’s okay!” Lizzie couldn’t blame Buddy for crying. She felt like crying, too. Jack looked up at her with his big brown eyes. His tail drooped, his ears were back, and his rear legs trembled. Lizzie knew that meant he was scared and upset. “Wait, everybody!” She dropped to her knees and began to pet Jack. “We have to stop arguing. We’re all upset, and now Jack and Buddy are upset, too.”
“But —” Charles began.
“Lizzie is right,” interrupted Dad. “Charles, why don’t you take Buddy outside? I’ll take the Bean upstairs and get him dressed.”
“And Lizzie and I will clean up,” Mom said.“Then maybe we can start this day all over again.” She smiled at Dad.
Lizzie felt better — so much better that she turned to face Charles. “And I’ll give you and the Bean some of my candy,” she said. It wasn’t a big sacrifice, since she was sick of SweeTarts and Life Savers, the only candy she had left. But the offer made Charles smile.
Lizzie petted Jack’s head as they watched Charles and Buddy go outside. “It’s okay. I bet anything that you’ll be friends when you get to know each other.” Jack snuffled, put his paws up on Lizzie’s leg, and gazed at her with his big brown eyes.
Are you mad at me? I think the other person is upset with me.
“It’s okay,” Lizzie told the puppy again as she began to help Mom pick up the garbage. Thenshe spotted something lying on the floor. A crumpled envelope and a torn, stained sheet of paper — with brightly colored drawings all over it. “Oh, no,” she said. “My letter to Kit Smithers!” She turned to face Jack. “You are a very,
very
bad —”
CHAPTER FIVE
“Lizzie! Wait!” Mom stopped Lizzie just in time, before she yelled at the puppy. “Remember what you said? He doesn’t understand what he did wrong.”
“But my letter!” Lizzie held up the torn, crumpled scraps. “I worked so hard on that picture of Sunny!” She let her arm drop to her side. Mom was right. It wasn’t fair to yell at Jack. But boy, was she mad.
Mom took the letter and smoothed it out on the kitchen table. “I wonder if we used some tape . . . No, it’s really too far gone.” She turned to Lizzie. “That really was a nice picture you drew,” she said. “I can see that. But you’ll just have to print the letter out again and draw some more pictures.”
“I don’t have time! I’m supposed to be at the shelter by noon.” Lizzie had not missed a single Saturday volunteering at the animal shelter, and she wasn’t about to start now. She crossed her arms and glared at Jack. Lizzie had really, really wanted that letter to be on its way to Kit Smithers by today. She couldn’t wait to hear back from her favorite author. Maybe she was acting babyish, but she couldn’t help it.
“I’ll tell you what,” said Mom. “You have the letter on the computer, right? How about if we do some research together and see if we can find an e-mail address to send it to? That would be faster than the regular mail anyway.”
Lizzie thought about this. “But what about my drawings?”
“I can attach a picture of you with Buddy instead. Kit Smithers would probably enjoy seeing what you look like.” Mom put a hand on Lizzie’s shoulder. “I know you’re disappointed, but it’s not the end of the world.”
Easy for Mom to say.
Lizzie looked down at Jack. He
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