Lisa sat up in bed, disoriented. “Are you all right, honey?” Mrs. Atwood knocked on the door and then poked her head in. “Oh, yeah, Mom.” Lisa rubbed her eyes. Scattered over the bed were scissors, needles, thread, and a paperback entitled Embroidery Made Fun and Easy. “I was just doing some background reading,” Lisa explained hastily. “All right, I don’t want to disturb you. I just wanted to tell you that dinner’s in half an hour, so you can set the table in fifteen minutes or so.” Mrs. Atwood began to close the door behind her. “Mom?” Lisa asked, remembering her thoughts before she had fallen asleep. “Do you think the bake sale will be a success?” “I hope so, Lisa. If I have anything to say about it, it will be. I called a few more mothers and fathers this afternoon, and everyone seems very willing to help. Oh, and I ran into Connie Atherton uptown, and she said that her son is—” “Connie who?” Lisa cried, fully awake at once. Mrs. Atwood gave Lisa a strange look.
