“Or they’re too selfish to worry,” I said. I started away, but before we could reach the door, Mother opened it the way she would open our bedroom door or our bathroom door when we were younger. It was always as if she expected to catch us doing something she wouldn’t like us doing. Whether we were or not, it made us both nervous and made us feel guilty just brushing our teeth or washing our faces.
“Why are you two taking so long to come in?” she demanded.
“We were waving good night to Matt,” I said.
In the glow of the front light, her face took on a yellowish tint filled with that usual suspicion. She was wearing a light blue robe and blue slippers, and her hair looked as if she had been running her fingers through it for hours.
“Get inside,” she ordered, and stepped away. Heads down, we entered the house, and she closed the door as if she was afraid we’d be followed in by some evil spirit. She approached us quickly and ran her gaze over our faces. “Well? Did you drink anything alcoholic or do any drugs?”
“No, Mother,” I said, speaking for myself but making it sound like I was speaking for us both. “It’s a nice house. We were practically the only ones who helped clean up, but we left earlier than just about everyone, so we don’t know how they’ll leave it.”
“That’s the Jacksons’ problem. They approved having a party in their home,” she said. I think she quickly realized how cold that sounded. “But it was nice that you showed some responsibility. You didn’t get that from your father. What you’ll learn, and I hope quickly, is that men and responsibility are almost antonyms.”
“Antonyms?” Haylee said.
“Opposites,” I muttered.
“Oh, right. That’s funny, Mother.”
“It’s not meant to be funny. It’s reality.” Mother studied her a little more. “What did you do at this party?”
“Oh, we watched a wonderful movie,” I said. “To Kill a Mockingbird.”
“You watched a movie?”
“The Jacksons have a great media room. We had pizza and sodas, and there was music afterward,” I told her. Nothing was a lie.
“Well, your father was always talking about constructing a media room, but that was just another empty promise. You’d better go to bed now,” she said. “I want to go shopping tomorrow and spend some of his money. I need some new things, and so do you.”
I glanced at Haylee. She still had her eyes down, which I feared was fanning the flames of Mother’s suspicions.
“Thanks, Mother,” I said. “Good night.” I reached for Haylee’s hand. “We had a nice time,” I added, nudging her.
“Thanks, Mother. Good night,” she mimicked, and we walked quickly to the stairway. I felt like a smuggler who had successfully gone through the TSA checkpoint.
Haylee rushed up ahead of me. I thought she was going to collapse into bed, but she surprised me. She turned to me, her face full of fresh excitement, eyes lit again like candle wicks that had been blown out moments ago.
“I can’t stand holding it all in.”
“What?”
“I’m getting into my pajamas, and when Mother goes to sleep, I’ll come into your room.”
“Why?” I asked. “What is it?”
“I did it,” she said.
“Did it?”
“Twice!” she said, and rushed off to her room, leaving me standing there stunned. I moved quickly to my room when I heard Mother turning lights off and heading for the stairway. I knew she would look in on us before she went to bed. She stopped in my doorway first. I had just slipped into my pajamas and was heading for the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.
“
It was so much easier and more wonderful when you two shared a room,” she said.
“We can’t be little girls forever, Mother.”
“I know. It’s a pity,” she said. “Families should be frozen in time when they are the happiest. Time has a way of eroding things.”