MISS LEEFOLT’S silver service got funny spots on it today. Must be cause the humidity’s so high. I go around the bridge club table, polishing each piece again, making sure they all still there. Li’l Man, he’s started swiping things, spoons and nickels and hair pins. He stick em in his diaper to hide. Sometimes, changing diapers can be like opening treasure.

The phone ring so I go in the kitchen and answer it.

“Got a little bit a news today,” Minny say on the phone.

“What you hear?”

“Miss Renfro say she know it was Miss Hilly who ate that pie.” Minny cackle but my heart go ten times faster.

“Law, Miss Hilly gone be here in five minutes. She better put that fire out fast.” It feel crazy that we rooting for her. It’s confusing in my mind.

“I call one-arm Ernest—” but then Minny shuts up. Miss Celia must a walked in.

“Alright, she gone. I call one-arm Ernestine and she say Miss Hilly been screaming in the phone all day. And Miss Clara, she know about Fanny Amos.”

“She fire her?” Miss Clara put Fanny Amos’s boy through college, one a the good stories.

“Nuh-uh. Just sat there with her mouth open and the book in her hand.”

“Thank the Lord. Call me if you hear more,” I say. “Don’t worry bout Miss Leefolt answering. Tell her it’s about my sick sister.” And Lord, don’t You go getting me for that lie. Last thing I need is a sister getting sick.

A few minutes after we hang up, the doorbell ring and I pretend I don’t even hear. I’m so nervous to see Miss Hilly’s face after what she said to Miss Skeeter. I can’t believe I put in that L-shaped crack. I go out to my bathroom and just set, thinking about what’s gone happen if I have to leave Mae Mobley. Lord, I pray, if I have to leave her, give her somebody good. Don’t leave her with just Miss Taylor telling her black is dirty and her Granmama pinching the thank-yous out a her and cold Miss Leefolt. The doorbell in the house ring again, but I stay put. I’m on do it tomorrow, I say to myself. Just in case, I’m on tell Mae Mobley goodbye.

WHEN I COME back in, I hear all the ladies at the table talking. Miss Hilly’s voice is loud. I hold my ear to the kitchen door, dreading going out there.

“—is not Jackson. This book is garbage, is what it is. I’ll bet the whole thing was made up by some Nigra—”

I hear a chair scrape and I know Miss Leefolt about to come hunting for me. I can’t put it off no more.

I open the door with the ice tea pitcher in my hand. Round the table I go, keeping my eyes to my shoes.

“I heard that Betty character might be Charlene,” Miss Jeanie say with big eyes. Next to her, Miss Lou Anne’s staring off like she don’t care one way or the other. I wish I could pat her shoulder. I wish I could tell her how glad I am she’s Louvenia’s white lady, without giving nothing away, but I know I can’t. And I can’t tell nothing on Miss Leefolt cause she just frowning like usual. But Miss Hilly’s face, it’s purple as a plum.

“And the maid in Chapter Four?” Miss Jeanie going on. “I heard Sissy Tucker saying—”

“The book is not about Jackson!” Miss Hilly kind a scream and I jump while I’m pouring. A drop a tea accidentally plops on Miss Hilly’s empty plate. She look up at me and like a magnet, my eyes pull to hers.

Low and cool, she say, “You spilled some, Aibileen.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“Wipe it up.”

Shaking, I wipe it with the cloth I had on the handle a the pitcher.

She staring at my face. I have to look down. I can feel the hot secret between us. “Get me a new plate. One you haven’t soiled with your dirty cloth.”

I get her a new plate. She study it, sniff real loud. Then she turn to Miss Leefolt and say, “You can’t even teach these people how to be clean.”

I HAVE TO SIT LATE that night for Miss Leefolt. While Mae Mobley sleeping, I pull out my prayer book, get started on my list. I’m so glad for Miss Skeeter. She call me this morning and say she took the job. She moving to New York in a week! But Law, I can’t stop jumping ever time I hear a noise, thinking maybe Miss Leefolt gone walk in the door and say she know the truth. By the time I get home, I’m too jumpy to go to bed. I walk through the pitch-black dark to Minny’s back door. She setting at her table reading the paper. This is the only part a her day when she ain’t running around to clean something or feed something or make somebody do right. The house be so quiet I figure something wrong.

“Where everbody?”

She shrug, “Gone to bed or gone to work.”

I pull out a chair and set down. “I just want a know what’s gone happen,” I say. “I know I ought a be thankful it ain’t all blowed up in my face yet, but this waiting’s driving me crazy.”

“It’s gone happen. Soon enough,” Minny say, like we talking about the kind a coffee we drink.

“Minny, how can you be so calm?”

She looks at me, puts her hand on her tummy that’s popped out in the last two weeks. “You know Miss Chotard, who Willie Mae wait on? She ask Willie Mae yesterday if she treats her bad as that awful lady in the book.” Minny kind a snort. “Willie Mae tell her she got some room to grow but she ain’t too bad.”

“She really ask her that?”

“Then Willie Mae tell her what all the other white ladies done to her, the good and the bad, and that white lady listen to her. Willie May say she been there thirty-seven years and it’s the first time they ever sat at the same table together.”

Besides Louvenia, this the first good thing we heard. I try to enjoy it. But I snap back to now. “What about Miss Hilly? What about what Miss Skeeter say? Minny, ain’t you at least a little nervous?”

Minny put her newspaper down. “Look, Aibileen, I ain’t gone lie. I’m scared Leroy gone kill me if he find out. I’m scared Miss Hilly gone set my house on fire. But,” she shake her head, “I can’t explain it. I got this feeling. That maybe things is happening just how they should.”

“Really?”

Minny kind a laugh. “Lord, I’m starting to sound like you, ain’t I? Must be getting old.”

I poke her with my foot. But I try to understand where Minny’s coming from. We done something brave and good here. And Minny, maybe she don’t want a be deprived a any a the things that go along with being brave and good. Even the bad. But I can’t pick up on the calm she feeling.

Minny looks back down at her paper but after a little while, I can tell she ain’t reading. She just staring at the words, thinking about something else. Somebody’s car door slam next door and she jump. And I see it then, the worry she’s trying to hide. But why? I wonder. Why she hiding that from me?

The more I look, the more I start to understand what’s going on here, what Minny’s done. I don’t know why I’m just now getting this. Minny made us put the pie story in to protect us. Not to protect herself, but to protect me and the other maids. She knew it would only make it worse for herself with Hilly. But she did it anyway, for everbody else. She don’t want anybody to see how scared she is.

I reach over and squeeze her hand. “You a beautiful person, Minny.”

She roll her eyes and stick her tongue out like I handed her a plate a dog biscuits. “I knew you was getting senile,” she say.

We both chuckle. It’s late and we so tired, but she get up and refill her coffee and fix me a cup a tea and I drink it slow. We talk late into the night.

THE NEXT DAY, SATURDAY, we all in the house, the whole Leefolt family plus me. Even Mister Leefolt home today. My book ain’t setting on the bedside table no more. For a while, I don’t know where she put it. Then I see Miss Leefolt’s pocketbook on the sofa, and she got it tucked inside. Means she carried it with her somewhere. I peek over and see the bookmark’s gone.

I want to look in her eyes and see what she know, but Miss Leefolt stay in the kitchen most a the day trying to make a cake. Won’t let me in there to help. Say it’s not like one a my cakes, it’s a fancy recipe she got out the Gourmet magazine. She hosting a luncheon tomorrow for her church and the dining room’s stacked up with party serving stuff. She done borrowed three chafing dishes from Miss Lou Anne and eight settings a Miss Hilly’s silver cause they’s fourteen people coming and God forbid any a them church folk got to use a regular ole metal fork.

Li’l Man be in Mae Mobley’s bedroom playing with her. And Mister Leefolt pacing round the house. Time to time he stop in front a Baby Girl’s bedroom, then go to pacing again. Probably thinks he should be playing with his kids with it being Saturday, but I reckon he don’t know how.

So that don’t leave a whole lot a places for me to go. It’s only two o’clock but I already done cleaned the house down to the nubs, polished the bathrooms, washed the clothes. I ironed everthing short a the wrinkles on my face. Been banned from the kitchen and I don’t like Mister Leefolt thinking all I do is set around playing with the kids. Finally I just start wandering round too.

When Mister Leefolt dawdling around the dining room, I peek in and see Mae Mobley got a paper in her hand, teaching Ross something new. She love to play school with her little brother.

I go in the living room, start dusting the books for the second time. I guess I ain’t gone get to tell her my in-case goodbye today, with this crowd around.

“We’re gonna play a game,” I hear Mae Mobley call out to her brother. “Now you sit up at the counter cause you’re at the Woolworf ’s and you’re colored. And you got to stay there no matter what I do or you go to jail.”

I go to her bedroom fast as I can, but Mister Leefolt’s already there, watching at the door. I stand behind him.

Mister Leefolt cross his arms up over his white shirt. Cock his head to the side. My heart’s beating a thousand miles a hour. I ain’t never once heard Mae Mobley mention our secret stories out loud to anybody except me. And that’s when her mama ain’t home and they ain’t nobody but the house to hear. But she so thick in what she doing, she don’t know her daddy’s listening.

“Okay,” Mae Mobley say and she guide his wobbly self up on the chair. “Ross, you gotta stay there at the Woolworf counter. No getting up.”

I want to speak, but I can’t get nothing to come out my mouth. Mae Mobley be tippy-toeing up behind Ross, pour a box a crayons on his head, and they clatter down. Li’l Man frown, but she look at him stern, say, “You can’t move. You got to be brave. And no violets.” Then she stick her tongue out at him and start pinging him with baby doll shoes and Li’l Man look at her like Why am I putting up with this nonsense? and he crawl off the chair with a whine.

“You lose!” she says. “Now come on, we’re playing Back-a-the-Bus and your name is Rosa Parks.”

“Who taught you those things, Mae Mobley?” Mister Leefolt say and Baby Girl whip her head around with eyes like she seed a ghost.

I feel my bones go soft on me. Everthing say go in there. Make sure she don’t get in trouble, but I can’t breathe enough to go. Baby Girl look right at me standing behind her daddy, and Mister Leefolt turn around and see me, then turn back round to her.

Mae Mobley stare up at her daddy. “I don’t know.” She looks off at a board game laying on the floor, like she might get to playing it again. I seen her do that, I know what she thinking. She think if she get busy with something else and ignore him, he might just go away.

“Mae Mobley, your daddy asked you a question. Where did you learn about things like that?” He bend down to her. I can’t see his face, but I know he smiling cause Mae Mobley all shylike, all Baby Girl loves her daddy. And then she say loud and clear:

“Miss Taylor did.”

Mister Leefolt straighten up. Goes into the kitchen and I’m following. He turns Miss Leefolt around by the shoulders and says: “Tomorrow. You go down to that school and put Mae Mobley in a different class. No more Miss Taylor.”

“What? I can’t just change her teacher—”

I hold my breath, pray, Yes, you can. Please.

“Just do it.” And like mens do, Mister Raleigh Leefolt walk out the door where he don’t have to give nobody no explanation about nothing.

All DAY SUNDAY, I can’t stop thanking God for getting Baby Girl away from Miss Taylor. Thank you God, thank you God, thank you God rings in my head like a chant. On Monday morning, Miss Leefolt head off to Mae Mobley’s school, all dressed up, and I have to smile, knowing what she going off to do.

While Miss Leefolt’s gone, I get to work on Miss Hilly’s silver. Miss Leefolt’s got it laid out on the kitchen table from the luncheon yesterday. I wash it and spend the next hour polishing it, wondering how one-arm Ernestine do it. Polishing Grand Baroque with all its loops and curls is a two-arm job.

When Miss Leefolt get back, she put her purse up on the table and tsk. “Oh, I meant to return that silver this morning but I had to go to Mae Mobley’s school and I just know she’s getting a cold because she was sneezing all morning long and now it’s almost ten o’clock . . .”

“Mae Mobley getting sick?”

“Probably.” Miss Leefolt roll her eyes. “Oh, I’m late for my hair appointment. When you’re finished polishing, go ahead and walk that silver on over to Hilly’s for me. I’ll be back after lunch.”

When I’m done, I wrap all a Miss Hilly’s silver up in the blue cloth. I go get Li’l Man out a bed. He just woke up from his nap and he blink at me and smile.

“Come on, Li’l Man, let’s get you a new diaper.” I put him up on the changing table and take off the wet one and Lord almighty if there ain’t three tinker toys and one a Miss Leefolt’s bobby pins in there. Thank the Lord it was just a wet diaper and not the other.

“Boy,” I laugh, “you like Fort Knox.” He grin and laugh. He point at the crib and I go over and poke through the blanket and sho nuff, there’s a hair roller, a measuring spoon, and a dinner napkin. Law, we gone have to do something about this. But not now. I got to get over to Miss Hilly’s.

I lock Li’l Man in the stroller and push him down the street over to Miss Hilly’s house. It’s hot and sunny and quiet. We stroll up her drive and Ernestine open the door. She got a skinny little brown nub that poke out the left sleeve. I don’t know her well, except she like to talk a fair amount. She go to the Methodist church.

“Hey Aibileen,” she say.

“Hey Ernestine, you must a seen me coming.”

She nods and looks down at Li’l Man. He watching that nub like he scared it’s gone get him.

“I come out here fore she do,” Ernestine whisper and then she say, “I guess you heard.”

“Heard what?”

Ernestine look behind her, then lean down. “Flora Lou’s white lady, Miss Hester? She give it to Flora Lou this morning.”

“She fired her?” Flora Lou had some bad stories to tell. She angry. Miss Hester who everbody think is real sweet, she give Flora a special “hand wash” to use ever morning. Ends up it was straight bleach. Flora showed me the burn scar.

Ernestine shake her head. “Miss Hester pull that book out and start yelling, ‘Is this me? Is this me you wrote about?’ and Flora Lou say, ‘No ma’am, I didn’t write no book. I ain’t even finished the fifth grade’ but Miss Hester go into a fit yelling, ‘I didn’t know Clorox burned the skin, I didn’t know the minimum wage was a dollar twenty-five, if Hilly wasn’t telling everybody it’s not Jackson I’d fire you so quick your head would spin,’ so Flora Lou say, ‘You mean I’m not fired?’ and Miss Hester scream, ‘Fired? I can’t fire you or people will know I’m Chapter Ten. You’re stuck working here for the rest of your life.’ And then Miss Hester lay her head on the table and tell Flora Lou to finish the dishes.”

“Law,” I say, feeling dizzy. “I hope . . . they all turn out that good.”

Back in the house, Miss Hilly hollers Ernestine’s name. “I wouldn’t count on it,” Ernestine whisper. I hand Ernestine the heavy cloth full a silver. She reaches out with her good hand to take it, and I guess out a habit, her nub reach out too.

THAT NIGHT, there’s a terrible storm. The thunder’s booming and I’m at my kitchen table sweating. I’m shaking, trying to write my prayers. Flora Lou got lucky, but what’s gone happen next? It’s just too much not knowing and worrying and—

Thunk thunk thunk. Somebody knocking on my front door.

Who that? I sit up straight. The clock over the stove say eight thirty-five. Outside, the rain is blowing hard. Anybody who know me good would use the back door.

I tiptoe to the front. They knock again, and I bout jump out a my shoes.

“Who—who is it?” I say. I check that the lock is on.

“It’s me.”

Law. I let out a breath and open the front door. There’s Miss Skeeter, wet and shivering. Her red satchel’s under her raincoat.

“Lord have mercy—”

“I couldn’t make it to the back door. The yard’s so thick with mud I couldn’t get through.”

She barefoot and holding her muddy shoes in her hand. I close the door quick behind her. “Nobody see you, did they?”

“You can’t see a thing out there. I would’ve called but the phone’s out with the storm.”

I know something must a happened, but I’m just so glad to see her face before she leaves for New York. We ain’t seen each other in person in six months. I give her a good hug.

“Law, let me see your hair.” Miss Skeeter pull back her hood, shake out her long hair past her shoulders.

“It is beautiful,” I say and I mean it.

She smile like she embarrassed and set her satchel on the floor. “Mother hates it.”

I laugh and then take a big breath, trying to get ready for whatever bad thing she got to tell me.

“The stores are asking for more books, Aibileen. Missus Stein called this afternoon.” She take my hands. “They’re going to do another print run. Five thousand more copies.”

I just look at her. “I didn’t . . . I didn’t even know they could do that,” I say and I cover my mouth. Our book is setting in five thousand houses, on they bookshelves, next to they night tables, behind they toilets?

“There’ll be more money coming. At least one hundred dollars to each of you. And who knows? Maybe there’ll be more.”

I put my hand on my heart. I ain’t spent a cent a the first sixty-one dollars and now she telling me they’s more?

“And there’s something else.” Miss Skeeter look down at the satchel. “I went to the paper on Friday and quit the Miss Myrna job.” She takes a deep breath. “And I told Mr. Golden, I think the next Miss Myrna should be you.”

“Me?”

“I told him you’ve been giving me the answers all along. He said he’d think about it and today he called me and said yes, as long as you don’t tell anybody and you write the answers like Miss Myrna did.”

She pull a blue-cloth notebook ............