They'd lived here for four years now. Elizabeth could vaguely remember the other house, in Milwaukee. It was a little bit bigger, with a real kitchen and two bathrooms and a big yard. Elizabeth was tempted to straighten up the living room, but she knew that as soon as Matt got up the room would be a mess again, with beer bottles and cigar ashes and his clothes dropped where he shed them. But maybe it would be worth atry.

Snores, unpleasant and gruff, came from behind the open door of Mama's bedroom. She peeked in. Mama and Matt must have made up their fight. They were all wrapped up in each other, his right leg thrown over her left, his face buried in her hair. She hoped they'd wake up before Leila got home. Leila hated to see them like that. "You must bring your friends to visit Mama and her fiance," she'd whisper to Elizabeth in her actressy voice. "Show off your elegantbackground."

Leila must be working overtime. The drive-in was near the beach, and sometimes on hot days a couple of the waitresses didn't show up. "I've got my period," they'd whine to the manager on the phone."Real bad cramps."

Leila had told her about that and explained what it meant. "You're only eight and that's young, but Mama never got around to telling me, and when it happened I could hardly walk home, my back hurt so much, and I thought I was dying. I won't let that happen to you, and I don't want other kids hinting around like it's something crazy."

Elizabeth did the best she could to make the living room look better. She pulled down the shades three-quarters of the way, so that the sun didn't glare so much. She emptied the ashtrays and washed the tops of the tables and threw away the beer bottles that Matt and Mama had emptied before their fight. Then she went into her room. It was just big enough to hold a cot, a bureau and a chair with a broken cane seat. Leila had given her a white chenille bedspread for her birthday and bought a secondhand bookcase which she'd painted red and hung on the wall.