she hears.” She stared beseechingly at her mother for a few seconds, then turned back to her sister. “Come on, Sarah,” she said. “Let’s go get ready for school.” She took Sarah’s hand, and led her out of the dining room. Silently, Rose and Jack watched them go.
“From the mouths of babes.” Jack said softly. Then he saw the tears running down his wife’s face. He moved from his chair and knelt beside her. She buried her face in his shoulder, and her body shook with her sobs.
“What are we going to do, Jack?” she said into his ear. “She makes me feel ashamed sometimes. Absolutely ashamed. And she’s only thirteen.”
Jack patted her gently. “I know, darling,” he said. “I know. I guess sometimes children have an easier time of things. They seem to be able to accept things the way they are. And we have to fight it.”
“It?” Rose looked up. Their eyes met, and there was closeness between them, a closeness Rose hadn’t felt since the early years of their marriage.
“Life,” Jack said. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could stop fighting life?”
Rose nodded. “But we can’t, can we?” Jack didn’t answer, nor did Rose expect him to.
A few minutes later Rose looked in on her daughters. Elizabeth, already dressed, was brushing Sarah’s thick dark hair. Sarah sat quietly in front of the mirror, but Rose couldn’t tell whether she was watching Elizabeth. She might have been, but she might also have been somewhere else, living a life that had nothing to do with this room, her sister, or anything else related to the house on the Point.
“Do you need anything before I go?” Rose said.
Elizabeth looked up and smiled. “An extra quarter for snack period?” she asked brightly. Rose shook her head. Elizabeth straightened up. “There,” she said. “What do you think?” Rose noted that the barrettes Elizabeth had fastened in her sister’s short, shiny hair did not match, and the part was not quite straight She decided not to comment on it.
“What does Sarah think?” she countered.
“Oh, she loves it,” Elizabeth said. “It keeps her hair out of her eyes.”
“That counts for a lot,” Rose said, smiling. “Could you do the same for me?”
“Sure,” Elizabeth said eagerly. “Now?”
Rose laughed. “Later. I don’t have time now, and neither do you. But maybe tomorrow,” she added, seeing the light fade in Elizabeth’s eyes. “Kiss me good-bye?”
Elizabeth approached her mother and tipped her head up to be kissed. Rose squeezed her quickly, then moved to the vanity, where Sarah sat, still apparently staring at her new hairdo. Rose knelt and wrapped Sarah in her arms.
“Have a good day, sweetheart,” she whispered. She kissed the little girl several times, then hugged her once more. “See you this afternoon,” she said.
Downstairs again, Rose stopped in the kitchen to speak to Mrs. Goodrich. The housekeeper looked up at her inquiringly.
“Has Cecil turned up yet?” Rose asked.
Mrs. Goodrich shook her head.
“Do me a favor and look around for him today, will you?”
“Cats can take care of themselves. He’ll be back when he’s a mind to,” the old woman said.
“I’m sure he will,” Rose said drily. “But would you mind having a look anyway? The children miss him. He might have gotten locked in somewhere.”
“If he did, someone locked him,” Mrs. Goodrich stated. Then she relented. “Sure. You go on now—I’ll find him.”
Rose smiled her thanks and went to find her husband. Jack had already left the house.
In the kitchen, Mrs. Goodrich continued loading the dishes into the dishwasher. She was convinced that no machine could get dishes nearly clean enough for someone to eat from, but she used the machine anyway. She simply washed them to her own satisfaction before loading them into the machine and left out the soap. She supposed the machine was good enough for rinsing, particularly since she rinsed them herself, too. She closed the door and pressed the button to make the dishwasher start. All that racket, she thought. It’s a wonder they don’t all smash. Then, over the noise of the washer, she heard another sound, from the front of the house. She moved to the kitchen door, opened it slightly, and listened.
“No, Sarah,” she heard Elizabeth saying. “You can’t come with me. You have to wait here for the van.”
Mrs. Goodrich heard Sarah wail, and moved through the door.
“Oh, Sarah,” Elizabeth was saying, a little louder now. “I wish you could come with me, really I do, but you simply can’t. It’ll only be a few