Part 27 (2/2)

”Tim,” Corinne said slowly. ”Suppose Mich.e.l.le isn't-disturbed, as you put it, and suppose she hasn't really made an imaginary friend? Suppose Amanda really is a ghost?”

Tim stared at her.

”But that's impossible, isn't it.” His tone left no room for argument.

Mich.e.l.le closed her book and set it aside. Try as she would, she couldn't get her mind off the funeral. The way people had stared at her. It had made her feel like a freak. She was tired of feeling like a freak.

She rose awkwardly from her chair, stretched, then limped over to the window. The fall twilight, fading quickly, colored the sea an iron gray, and the sky, its reddish tinge fading to the dark blue of dusk, seemed low tonight. Below her, its outlines blurred in the gathering darkness, was her mother's studio. Mich.e.l.le stared at it, almost as if she expected something to happen. And yet, what could happen? The studio was empty-she could hear her parents downstairs, their voices low, punctuated occasionally by Jennifer's happy squeals.

Jennifer.

Mich.e.l.le said the name to herself, and wondered how she could ever have thought it was a pretty name. Then she said it out loud, listening to the syllables. She decided she hated the name. Suddenly, as if her hostility had somehow flowed directly into the baby, Jenny began crying.

Mich.e.l.le listened to the sounds for a moment, then, as they quieted, picked up her book and stretched out on the bed. She opened it to the pa.s.sage she had left a few minutes ago and began to read.

Again, she heard Jennifer squall.

Leaving the book on her nightstand, Mich.e.l.le carefully maneuvered herself off the bed, and, taking her cane, left her room and started toward the stairs.

June looked up from her needlework, listened to the sound of Mich.e.l.le's cane, then spoke quietly to Cal.

”She's coming down.” Cal, who had Jennifer on his lap and was playing with her toes, made no response.

As the tapping of Mich.e.l.le's cane came steadily closer, June picked up her needlepoint once again. When Mich.e.l.le appeared at the archway that separated the living room from the entry hall, she feigned surprise.

”Finished with your homework already?” she asked.

Mich.e.l.le nodded. ”I was trying to read, but I couldn't concentrate. I thought maybe Daddy and I could play a game or something.”

Cal's face tightened. He remembered the last time they had tried that. ”Not now. I'm teaching your sister about her toes.” He ignored the hurt in Mich.e.l.le's eyes, but June could not.

”Don't you think it's time Jenny went to bed?” she suggested. Cal glanced at the clock on the mantel.

”At seven-thirty? She'll be up all night, and so will you.”

”She's up all night anyway,” June argued. ”Cal, I really think you ought to take her upstairs.”

She was not going to relent. Cal got to his feet and held the baby high over his head. He looked up into her grinning face and winked at her. ”Come on, princess, the queen says it's bedtime.” He started out of the room, but Mich.e.l.le stopped him.

”Can we play a game when you come down?”

Still not looking at her, Cal continued toward the stairs. ”I don't know,” he said over his shoulder. ”I'm pretty tired tonight Maybe some other night.” Because his back was to her, he didn't see the tears well in Mich.e.l.le's eyes.

June, however, did, and she hastily put her work down. ”Come on-why don't we make a batch of cookies?” But it was too late. Mich.e.l.le was already on her way out of the room.

”I'm not hungry,” she said listlessly. ”I'll just go back up and read for a while. Night.”

”Aren't you going to kiss me?”

Dispiritedly, Mich.e.l.le went to her mother and kissed her on the cheek. June put her arms around Mich.e.l.le and tried to draw her close, but felt her daughter stiffen.

”I'm sorry,” she said. ”He really is is tired tonight.” tired tonight.”

”I know.” Mich.e.l.le pulled herself out of her mother's embrace. Feeling helpless, June let her go. Nothing she could say would make Mich.e.l.le feel better. Only Cal could give her the rea.s.surance she needed, and June was sure that wasn't going to happen. Unless she forced him.

When Cal still hadn't come back downstairs thirty minutes later, June made the rounds of the lower floor, locking up and turning off the lights. Then she mounted the stairs, stuck her head in to wish Mich.e.l.le a final good night, and went down the hall to the master bedroom. She found Cal already in bed, propped against the pillows, reading a book. Next to him, sleeping peacefully in her ba.s.sinet, was Jennifer. For a moment, June found the scene disarming, but she quickly realized what Cal was doing.

”You aren't that tired,” she announced. Cal looked at her blankly.

”What?”

”I said you aren't that tired. Don't pretend you didn't hear me.” Her voice was quivering with anger, but Cal still only stared at her in puzzlement.

”I heard you. I just don't know what you meant.”

”It's simple,” June said coldly. ”Half an hour ago, when I suggested you bring Jennifer upstairs-so that you could play with Mich.e.l.le-you seemed to think it was much too early. And here you are, tucked happily in bed.”

”June-” Cal began, but she cut him off.

”Oh, come on. Do you really think I don't know what's going on? You came up here to hide. To hide from your own daughter! For G.o.d's sake, Cal, don't you know what you're doing to her?”

”I'm not doing anything!” Cal said, almost desperately. ”I just-I just...”

”You just can't face her. Well, you're going to have to, Cal. What you did down there was cruel. All she wanted to do was play a game with you. Just a simple, little game. My G.o.d, if your guilt is weighing on you so much, I'd have thought you'd be dying to play with her, if only so you could let her win. And then calling Jenny 'princess,' Didn't you realize what it would do to Mich.e.l.le? That's always been your nickname for her!”

”She didn't even notice,” Cal said, his voice sullen.

”How would you know? You won't even look at her anymore. Well, let me tell you, Cal, she noticed. She almost started crying. I think the only reason she didn't was that she was afraid no one would care. My G.o.d, can't you understand what you're doing to her?”

Her anger suddenly dissolving into frustration, June burst into tears and crumpled onto the bed. Cal gathered her into his arms, rocking her gently, his mind whirling with her accusations.

”Don't, darling,” he whispered. ”Please, don't.”

June forced herself to relax in his arms. He was her husband, and she loved him; what was happening was really no more his fault than Mich.e.l.le's. It was something that had happened, that's all. Something they would have to get through.

Together.

She sat up and dabbed at her eyes with a Kleenex from the nightstand.

”I've done something,” she said. ”You aren't going to like it, but we have to do it.”

”Done something? What?”

”Corinne Hatcher's friend, the school psychologist. I've asked her to set us up an appointment with him.”

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