She isn’t like she used to be. She’s starting to get a little sloppy. Just little things. And she’s started arguing with me. It used to be that if I asked her to do something she either did it immediately or it was already done. Lately she’s started arguing with me, or simply not doing what I ask her to do. And she fiat out refused to do something for Mrs. Goodrich the other day. You should have heard Mrs. Goodrich!”
Jack chuckled. “I have heard Mrs. Goodrich. Thirty years ago I flatly refused to do something she told me to do. I heard her then, and it was the first and last time I ever refused to do anything she asked me to do.”
“I suspect it’ll be the last time for Elizabeth, too.” Rose smiled. Then her smile faded, and her voice grew serious again.
“But, really, Jack, haven’t you noticed it too? Or is it just my imagination?” Rose bit at her lower lip anxiously. “I’m afraid my imagination works overtime these days.”
Jack thought it over and realized that Rose was right Elizabeth had been changing, but it wasn’t anything serious, as far as he could see. Elizabeth, in his opinion, was simply beginning to act like any other thirteen-year-old girl.
“I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. After all, she’s been through just as much as we have, and her life’s changed just as much as ours. We can’t expect her to be the same as she always was. You’re not and I’m not—why should she be?”
“I don’t know, really,” Rose said thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I’m even worried. In a way, it’s kind of a relief. She was so perfect, she sometimes made me feel incompetent I could never handle Sarah the way she could.”
Jack seemed to stiffen, and Rose realized that it was the first time either of them had mentioned Sarah in a month. They hadn’t been to visit her yet; it was almost as if they were trying to pretend that she hadn’t existed. But she had.
The next day they drove to Ocean Crest, forty miles south of Port Arbello. It was close enough to make visiting Sarah easy, but far enough away so that Port Arbello would be able to feel safe. Sarah would be there for a very long time.
It was a difficult visit. The child sat in front of them, her enormous brown eyes fixed on a spot somewhere in space, somewhere Rose and Jack could not go.
She did not resist when each of them embraced her, nor did she respond.
“She’s always like that,” the nurse explained. “So far she hasn’t responded to anything. She eats, but the food has to be put in her mouth.” When Rose seemed to be on the verge of tears, the nurse hastened to explain.
“It isn’t anything to worry about,” she said. “Sarah’s had a bad trauma, and she’s reacting to it She’s temporarily withdrawn, just as normal people do. Except that she was already so withdrawn that now she’s practically shut down. But she’ll come out of it. I’m sure she will.”
They made the drive home in silence. When they were in the house Rose said, “Fix me a drink, will you? I feel like I need one. I’m going up to say hello to Elizabeth.”
“Kiss her once for me,” Jack said. He headed for the study as Rose disappeared upstairs.
A couple of minutes later, when Rose went into the study, she found her husband standing in the middle of the room, staring at the empty place on the wall above the fireplace.
“It’s gone,” he said. “She put it back in the attic.”
Rose stared at the blank space herself, then went to the study door.
“Elizabeth!” she called.
“What?” The muffled shout came through indistinctly from upstairs. Rose’s eyes narrowed, and she went to the foot of the stairs.
“Come down here,” she said sharply.
“In a minute,” she heard from upstairs.
“Now!” Rose commanded. She stalked back to the study. A very long minute later Elizabeth walked into the room.
“You used to knock before you entered a room,” Rose pointed out to her.
“Oh, Mother,” Elizabeth protested.
“Don’t whine,” Jack said sharply. “It doesn’t sound attractive. Did you take that picture down?”
“What picture?” Elizabeth said evasively.
“You know perfectly well what picture,” Rose snapped. “The one above the fireplace.”
“Oh, that,” Elizabeth said, offhandedly. “I told you I hated it.”
“Where did you put it?”
“Back in the attic,” Elizabeth said. “That’s where it belongs.” Then she marched out of the study.