Unspeakable Things(40)
I poured a cup of water over the bumpy flesh, clearing the plucked feathers. The water ran pink. “I dunno. Don’t you ever wonder what Mom and Dad were like when they were younger?”
“Not really.”
“Sometimes I do. They went to Lilydale. Bauer too. And the way Dad treated Goblin at the liquor store the other day, I figured he knew him from a while back.” I paused. “And Dad’s been acting bananas lately. Even more than usual. Don’t you think it’s funny he started meeting up with Bauer around the same time Clam and maybe another Hollow boy were attacked? And that seeing Goblin made him so upset?”
Sephie rolled her eyes. “Like Mom just said, Dad doesn’t like Goblin because he’s a draft dodger. Stop being so weird.”
“You’re the one who’s gonna stick her hand up a chicken.”
“What’re we making?” I asked Sephie, hopping from foot to foot.
“Spaghetti, I think, and a spinach salad. Shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Sephie!” I grabbed her hand and tugged her up the stairs behind me. “If we’re making spaghetti, we’ve got plenty of time to try on those dresses. Pleeeeaaassseeee.”
A box from Aunt Jin had been delivered today while we were breaking for lunch, after Sephie and I had finished cleaning the chickens and in the middle of more trail cleaning. Inside was white tissue paper, with a handwritten note on top: To my favorite princesses, who are going to grow up whether their parents like it or not. I’d peeled back the lacy paper, revealing two flowing taffeta dresses, one the color of pomegranate seeds, the other a rich eggplant shade.
They were so beautiful it hurt to look at them.
Dad wouldn’t let us try them on then with so much work left to do, so I ran them to my room. The four of us kept toiling until it was time for Mom to head off to work and hand in her final grades, leaving me and Sephie in charge of dinner. We’d cleaned ourselves up and had a whole hour before it was time to start supper. I was desperate to try on those beautiful gowns.
Sephie pretended to pull back, but she was smiling her dimpled smile. “I get the red one!”
We dashed upstairs. She vibrated with joy when I opened my closet and showed her where the dresses hung. She snatched the scarlet one off the hanger, not even giving a second glance to my nest underneath. She’d caught me sleeping there enough times.
“I want the purple!” It was held up by my only skirt hanger because it was strapless. I turned away from Sephie, yanked off my T-shirt, and slipped into the dress. “Zip me!”
She stopped in the middle of tugging on her own dress to close mine.
It was a little big on me. I rustled over to my full-length mirror and stared. I had to hold the dress up with one hand, but I could see how in a couple years I would fill it out. I piled my hair on top of my head with my free hand and smooched at my reflection. Sephie appeared behind me, the red dress fitting her perfectly. She was never going to make the Solid Gold dancer cut, but that dress made her graceful and curvy in ways I’d never noticed before.
“Sephie,” I breathed. “You’re so pretty.”
Her eyes were wide and trembly. “No way.”
I turned her so we were both staring in the mirror, side by side. “You bet. Let’s go show Dad!” I felt a pinch of doubt when I said this, but we were too pretty to waste it on each other. I tugged her downstairs just as I’d dragged her upstairs. We giggled in a corner of the dining room until Dad finally hollered at us from his chair, asking what all the noise was about.
“Introducing Miss Minnesota, Persephone McDowell!” I pushed her into the living room, directly between Dad’s view and the TV. “And her companion, Miss Preteen Minnesota, Cassandra McDowell!”
I waltzed in, still holding up the bust with one hand, the other swishing the grape-colored taffeta skirt. I stood shoulder to shoulder with Sephie but was staring toward the ceiling as I imagined a model would. “We both pledge to create world peace and cure dolphins of cancer.” I nudged Sephie and tittered.
“And for your pleasure, we will dance the dance of the Fairy Queens,” she said, moving loftily, her mouth quivering with the force it took to keep from laughing.
Dad set down his drink and began clapping, a goofy grin on his face. “Dance for me, my princesses!”
And we did, twirling and preening like little girls until it was time to cook dinner, when we slipped out of our beautiful gowns and into regular clothes so we wouldn’t mess them up.
We had full bellies and the dishes done by the time The Dukes of Hazzard came on. I was hoping Dad could hold it together until Matt Houston, for Sephie’s sake. I’d never seen her carry a torch like she did for Lee Horsley.
Me, I didn’t have time for mooning over actors. That’s why I liked Remington Steele. Laura Holt did all the work. She was the real deal. She didn’t waste time being romantic.
Plus, Mom was always home Tuesday nights when Remington Steele was on.
I could tell by the way Sephie kept glancing from a Dallas rerun on the screen to Dad in his chair that she was measuring his mood, just like me. When Dad started to get too loose, it was time for bed, no matter how great the show.
At the next commercial break, he leaped out of his chair to give Sephie a foot massage. She tried to pull her leg back.
“Hey, we can probably get you those braces you want pretty soon,” Dad said.