“I’ve already discussed it with Daddy,” she said calmly. She was whipping up some cupcakes. “It’s the weekend, and Moffet’s not here this weekend. He went to visit his son in Boston. His son’s a doctor, too, you know.”
“I don’t care about his son. We should still call him.”
“We will on Monday. If she hasn’t improved, I’m afraid she might have to go back into the hospital.”
“Oh.”
“Eat something. We’ve got work to do.”
“How can we leave her tomorrow?” I asked. “She’s not going to the gala, right?”
Cassie stopped working and looked at me with a wide smile. “Can you imagine her there? Of course not.”
“Well, then, how can we leave her alone?”
“We’re not.”
“We’re not? Who’s going to be here?”
“You,” she said.
“Me?”
“I would stay, but Daddy needs me at his side. Don’t worry. She’ll have taken some of her medicine and will sleep most of the time, anyway.”
“But—”
“What’s more important to you, Semantha, attending a party in a department store or making sure your mother is all right?”
“Of course, looking after Mother.”
“Exactly.” She returned to the cupcake batter. “I understand how you feel, how hard this is on all of us, and, like you, I wish Mother had been stronger, but she’s not, so we have to contend with it.
“Other families would crumble,” she continued, “but not the Heavenstones. We rise to every occasion. People look up to us. We inspire them; we always have. Mother doesn’t have the Heavenstone blood in her, so she’s not as strong as we are.” She paused to spoon out some of the batter. “Daddy’s going to love these cupcakes,” she said. “They’re marble inside. He loves that.”
I stared at her until she turned back to me.
“What? Why aren’t you having your brunch?”
“Mother is as strong as any Heavenstone,” I insisted.
She shook her head. “Yes, Semantha, and there is really a Santa Claus, too.”
She returned to her cupcakes.
I knew how Cassie was about our heritage and importance, all that. I had heard it and believed some of it myself, but something was different.
It was as if …
As if I, too, heard a baby’s cry.
Silence
I HAD NEVER been so happy to hear Uncle Perry’s voice as I was this particular afternoon. Cassie went to the door before I could. I was still in the kitchen. She had insisted we take everything out of every cabinet and wipe each cabinet clean before putting it all back. We would do the same with the pantry and the silverware drawers. The moment I heard him, I stopped what I was doing and hurried out to greet him.
“Your father’s right behind me,” he said. “He was just finishing up a few things. How’s your mother?” he asked Cassie as I approached.
“She’s about the same. You know she’s on some antidepressants, right?”