“Oh, good. I’m absolutely starving!” Haylee cried. I rose and followed her to the dining room. “This table is absolutely a work of art, Mother,” she said when she entered ahead of me.
Mother stood by her chair, beaming. “Take your usual seats,” she said.
Haylee moved quickly to hers. We were sitting across from each other. Mother now sat where my father used to sit, and Irene sat in Mother’s usual place.
“Before we begin,” Mother said, still standing, “I’d like to give thanks. I am thankful that my daughters are safe now and that once again, they are sitting together in our dining room. I am thankful that we will all get a second chance at happiness, and I am thankful that I had such support from people like Irene.” She took her seat.
“I am thankful, too, Mother,” Haylee said. “I am thankful that I am here and we are enjoying your wonderful dinner.”
Mother nodded and looked at me.
“I am as well, Mother.”
“Well, then. Let’s pass everything around, and don’t forget, girls, leave room for pumpkin pie.”
We began eating. Haylee was quickly back to her old clever self, asking Irene questions and showing how interested she was to know about her. I wondered if Irene bought into how fascinated Haylee was in her life story, how she’d had to earn money for herself and her mother and how she’d worked to get her education.
“I swear,” Haylee said, “after seeing how spoiled some people are, it’s refreshing to hear someone describe how she achieved so much with so little.”
Mother was obviously delighted at how well Haylee spoke and how humble she sounded. Haylee then turned to me and asked questions about Littlefield, the facilities, and my teachers. I had to admit that Mother heard more about my school then and there than she had ever heard before. Despite her warnings, both Haylee and I ate more than we should, but everything was truly delicious. When I volunteered Haylee and myself to clean up, Mother refused.
“I’d rather the two of you go into the living room and prepare one of your piano duets for us. I’ve been telling Irene for months how wonderful you both play. Now, don’t make me look like a liar. Go on. Rehearse,” she ordered. “After that, we’ll have our dessert.”
“I’m a little rusty. How about you?” Haylee asked me.
“The last time we played here together was my last time, too.”
“Then we’d better do as Mother asks and rehearse,” she said.
If the food hadn’t been so wonderful, I might have heaved right there at the table, but I smiled instead, rose, and followed her to the living room.
When we sat at the pianos, Haylee looked at me and said, “Let’s make her happy, Kaylee. Who knows when we will have a chance to do it again?”
I should have paid more attention to that, but I was thinking about the music.
19
Despite what she had said, Haylee played the piano as well as I did. I began to suspect she had been rehearsing at the institution. We worked on two of Mother’s favorite holiday songs, and then Haylee surprised me after we had played them for Mother and Irene by beginning Gershwin’s Prelude No 1. It was, as I recalled, the last duet we had done together before she staged my abduction. She looked at me, challenging. I saw how pleased Mother was, and then I started to play, too.
“You rehearsed,” I accused as soon as we finished.
Haylee shrugged. “When something is so special to you, you can’t forget it,” she said.
For Mother, that was like spreading warm butter on toast. She clapped, and Irene joined her. “Aren’t they simply special?” Mother asked.
“They are,” Irene said. “I’ve never seen two like them.”
Haylee glowed so brightly with pride that my smile of appreciation paled. I felt like a candle next to a spotlight on the stage, which was what every room in this house had been for us. Even when there was no one but our parents here, we were performing. We thought we had to in order to keep Mother’s love. The moment we woke in the morning, the curtain was raised.
After our duets, we all returned to the dining room to enjoy our pumpkin pie. Haylee acted as if a dam of frustration had been broken. She was behaving now like someone who had been kept in solitary confinement for months and months. She talked a regular blue streak, describing the food they had and the institution facilities, the recreational activities she enjoyed, what she was reading, and, yes, she confessed that she had been practicing on the piano.
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” she declared.
“That it was,” I said.
“Kaylee was always a little better than I was, so I was confident she would be able to get ri
ght into it,” she explained to Irene.