Crystal (Orphans 2)

Suddenly, I heard a door open and some more whispering. I got out of bed and went to my own door again.

"Good night, good night, parting is such sweet sorrow . . ."

They both laughed.

Karl was in the hallway looking back at their bedroom. He blew a kiss. He was fully dressed.

"I wish you could stay," Thelma said.

"So do I."

"Someday."

"Someday," he said, and turned. I stepped back as he walked past my bedroom. I heard Thelma close her door.

I wish you could stay? Where was he going? What did this mean?

For a long moment, it was very quiet. Then Karl's footsteps echoed down the hallway as if he was deliberately trying to be loud. I opened the door again and watched him walk past to their bedroom. When he opened the door, I heard him say, "You still up, Thelma?"

"I couldn't sleep," she replied, "so I decided to read a little, but I'm tired now."

"Good. It's bedtime," he said, and entered the bedroom, closing the door.

I put my ear to the wall and listened. I heard water running in their bathroom sink and a toilet flush. Neither of them spoke for the longest time, and then I heard Karl say, "Good night, Thelma."

"Good night, Karl."

All was quiet. I returned to my bed, but I didn't fall asleep for quite a while. How could adults be like children, playing games and pretending? What would love be like for me if it ever happened to me? What sort of a man would find me attractive, or would no man find me attractive and I would be forced to imagine a life, too?

How I wished I had a big sister or a close friend, someone in whom I would be unafraid to confide, someone I could trust with

my deepest hidden secrets. That was what was truly wonderful about family, I thought. When you had one, you didn't have to keep all of your troubled feelings and fears simmering under a pot. You could go to them and be unafraid to lift the lid. You could help each other and keep each other from being afraid.

Wasn't that the most important thing?

Of course, the next morning, I said nothing about what I had seen and heard Thelma and Karl do the night before. I felt guilty for spying on them anyway. Karl had made plans to return home from work early so he, Thelma, and I could go shopping for things I would need at the start of school the next day. At first, he was just going to tell Thelma where the best places were and have us go ourselves, but she complained that this was a family thing and he should be a part of it. He thought about it and agreed.

"You have to forgive me:' he told me. "I'm not used to thinking like a parent. Of course I'll be here. Of course I want to be part of everything important."

I know he tried to relax and make it seem like fun, but it just wasn't in his nature to treat purchasing as anything less than a serious project. Thelma had made a list of clothing, and I had made a list of school supplies. Karl took our lists and researched

everything. He knew exactly where the best prices were for every item. Colors, fashions, and styles played the least role. Our shopping was planned efficiently, down to where we would eat dinner and even what was the best food value.

"A family," Karl explained as we ate, "is really a small enterprise, a business venture, a partnership. The more that's planned, the better it will be."

"Karl even planned our wedding and

honeymoon so as to take advantage of some good specials, didn't you, Karl?" Thelma said proudly.

"Yes. It was off-season, after Labor Day, the best time to find good values."

"But was it someplace you wanted to go?" I asked.

"If it's a good value for the dollar, it's where I want to be," Karl replied. "People pay more for the things they want and need because they don't do the necessary research and planning."

"Karl has even bought our final resting places and has our funerals arranged, don't you, Karl?" Thelma said. "He did it shortly after we got married."

`That soon?" I asked innocently.