Robyn didn’t return until Monday, five days after their picnic lunch. By then, Frankie had decided that the strange, tidy girl would never return. Even so, each day – except for the rainy day after their picnic – Frankie made her way through the grass, toward the cluster of skinny trees with her canteen filled with water and a peanut butter sandwich packed in the Crown Royal bag looped carefully around her holster.
On Monday, Robyn was standing in the grass looking in Frankie’s direction. She waved her arms madly when Frankie came into view then ran toward her friend.
“I was afraid you’d be mad,” Robyn said.
“I brought a peanut butter sandwich.”
“I wasn’t grounded yesterday, but Sunday we go to church.”
Frankie’s dad didn’t make them go to Mass anymore, thank Christ, because Mass wa
