almost inside the branches of the Christmas tree. The blinking didn't seem to bother him.
The girls all followed me to the baby's room. Eve was proprietary because the baby was her sister, Krista was hoping to see poop so she could provide running commentary on its grossness, and Anna was still waiting to see which way the wind blew.
Grabbing a fresh disposable diaper, I placed the baby on the changing table and went through the laborious and complicated process of unsnapping the crotch of Jane's sleeper. Mentally reviewing how I'd changed the Althaus baby, I opened the pull tabs on the old diaper, lifted Jane by the legs, removed the soiled diaper, pulled a wipe from the box on the end of the changing table, cleaned the pertinent areas, and pushed the new diaper under Jane. I ran the front part between her tiny legs, pulled the adhesive tabs shut, and reinserted the baby into the sleeper, getting the snaps wrong only one time.
The three girls decided this was boring. I watched them troop through the door to go to Krista's room. They were so superficially similar, yet so different. All were eight years old, give or take a few months; all were within three inches of being the same height; they had brown hair and brown eyes. But Eve's hair was long and looked as if someone had taken a curling iron to it, and Eve was thin and pale. Krista, blocky and with higher color, had short, thick, darker hair and a more decisive demeanor. Her jaw jutted out like she was about to take it on the chin. Anna had shoulder-length light brown hair, a medium build, and a ready smile.
One of these three little girls was not who she thought she was. Her parents were not the people she had always identified as her parents. Her home was not really her home; she belonged elsewhere. She was not the oldest child in the family but the youngest. Everything in her life had been a lie.
I wondered what Jack was doing. I hoped whatever it was, he wouldn't get caught.
I carried the baby into the living room with me. Luke was still absorbed in the television, but he half turned as I entered and asked me for a snack.
With the attention to detail you have to have around kids, I put Jane in her infant seat, fastened the strap and buckle arrangement that prevented her from falling out, and fetched Luke a banana from the chaotic kitchen.
"I want chips. I don't like nanas," he said.
I exhaled gently. "If you eat your banana, I'll get you some chips," I said as diplomatically as I am able. "After supper. I'll be putting supper on the table in just a minute."
"Miss Lily!" shrieked Eve. "Come look at us!"
Ignoring Luke's continued complaints about bananas, I strode down the hall to the room that must be Krista's, judging from all the signs on the door warning Luke never to come in.
It didn't seem possible the girls could have done so much to themselves in such a short time. Both Krista and Anna were daubed with makeup and swathed in full dress-up regalia: net skirts, feathered hats, tiny high heels. Eve, sitting on Krista's bed, was much more modestly decked out, and she wore no makeup at all.
I looked at Krista's and Anna's lurid faces and had a flash of horror before I realized that if all this stuff had been in Krista's room, this must be an approved activity.
"You look ... charming," I said, having no idea what an acceptable response would be.
"I'm the prettiest!" Krista said insistently.
If the basis for selection was heavy makeup, Krista was right.
"Why don't you wear makeup, Miss Lily?" Eve asked.
The three girls crowded around and analyzed my face.
"She's got mascara on," Anna decided.
"Red stuff? Rouge?" Krista was peering at my cheeks.
"Eye shadow," Eve said triumphantly.
"More isn't always better," I said, to deaf ears.
"If you wore a lot of makeup, you'd be beautiful, Aunt Lily," Anna said surprisingly.
"Thank you, Anna. I'd better go see how the baby is."
Luke had unsnapped the baby's sleeper and pulled it from her tiny feet. He was bending over her with a pair of tiny, sharp fingernail scissors.
"What are you doing, Luke?" I asked when I could draw my breath.
"I'm gonna help you out," he said happily. "I'm gonna cut baby Jane's toenails."
I shuddered. "I appreciate your wanting to help. But you have to wait for Jane's daddy to say whether or