I tried to remove my smudged make-up with tissues before I went inside, but it didn’t work that well. I looked like I had two black eyes.
I set the milk and the change on the counter in the kitchen. Dinner was almost ready, but Mom had not yet called Emma and Egan to set the table and pour the drinks. I didn’t know where Enid and the kids were. Mom was the only one in the kitchen. She turned from stirring something on the stove, taking in my tear-washed face in a glance.
“Are you okay, Erika?” she asked.
“Mm-hm.” I traced my finger over the tiled counter top. She didn’t ask anything else, but I decided to provide the information anyway. “I saw Smith.” My throat threatened to swell again.
She stopped stirring and turned to look at me. She seemed to be deciding whether to say something or not. I could see the sympathy in her eyes—she knew how I felt about Smith. Finally she just nodded.
“Can you go get Emma?” she asked. “I think she’s still asleep. Tell her to come pour the drinks for dinner.”
“Okay.” I started for the stairs. I wondered where Enid and the boys were, if they would be joining us for dinner, but I didn’t ask. As I left, Mom went to the back door and yelled for Egan and Gus.
Dad would be home any minute, and we would all sit down to dinner. How in the world would I survive it?
I stopped by the bathroom to scrub the remains of my make-up off before turning towards my room. I stopped short because Enid stood in the doorway, Gio on her hip. She must have heard my footsteps. She turned briefly to look at me, and in that brief moment I saw the overwhelming grief written all over her face.
“She looks so little,” she murmured. “I can’t believe she’s twelve already.” I realized she had been watching Emma sleeping. I didn’t say anything—I didn’t know what to say—so we both just stood there, Enid in the doorway looking at Emma and me in the hallway looking anywhere but at Enid. Finally Enid turned to me. “And I can’t believe you’re sixteen already.”
“I—uh—am,” I said, for lack of anything else to say.
She gave me a sad smile and sighed, “Oh, Riki. I can always count on you.”
I wasn’t sure exactly what she meant by that, but I didn’t question her. She went into Egan’s room and tugged two-year-old Cashel out of Egan’s toybox.
“Wiki!” Cashel exclaimed seeing me.
“Hi, Cash,” I said.
“C’mon Cashel, it’s time for dinner,” Enid directed him towards the stairs. “And it’s Aunt Riki to you, buddy.”
“Aut Wiki?” Cashel questioned, cautiously descending the stairs, holding tightly to his mother’s hand.
“That’s right,” Enid said.
I watched them go in silence. Great sister I was, no words of encouragement, no offering to help with the boys even! My shoulders slumped with guilt—I just didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t good in situations like this. Surely my family must know that.
I went in my room to see that Emma had done some tossing and turning since I’d last seen her—my blue plaid comforter had been kicked mostly onto the floor and Emma lay on her stomach, drooling on my pillow, my sheets twisted around her. Annoyance rose inside me—this was not going to work. I could not share a bed with her. She was drooling on my pillow for pete’s sake! Maybe she could move in with Egan instead.
“Em’,” I shook her shoulder as gently as I could considering my sentiments towards her at the moment. “It’s time for dinner.”
She groaned and rolled over.
“I’m not hungry,” she slurred.
“C’mon, Emma,” I said impatiently shaking her harder.
“Stop, Riki,” she whined.
“’Kay. Fine.”
My patience with my sister completely exhausted, I went back downstairs.
I took six glasses and two plastic cups out of the kitchen cupboard, and began filling the glasses with ice. Egan was letting Gus help him set the table; Mom was transferring food from the pots to serving dishes; and I could hear Enid and the boys in the back yard.
“Does everyone want tea?” I asked.
Mom turned, surprised.
“I thought Emma was pouring the drinks,” she said.
“She said she’s not hungry.” I knew my frustration showed through that statement. Mom eyed me and I waited for the lecture that would surely come. Everyone was under a lot of pressure right now, Erika, we needed to be patient with each other. I was the older one; I should be the good example to my younger siblings and nephews. We had to stick together to get through this.
But no lecture came. She simply said, “Oh,” and turned back to the food.
The front door opened and closed almost too softly to be heard. Only one person closed the door like that. I felt my spirits lift, and I almost felt Mom’s spirits lift too. She abandoned dinner and went to the front hall. I wanted to follow, but I knew she wanted to be alone with Dad. I heard Egan headed that way with Gus on his heels.
“Egan! C’mere!” I called.
He slumped into the kitchen with an impatient look on his face. Gus followed close behind, looking happily ignorant.
“What?”
“Do you want tea?”
“Yes.” He turned to leave.
“Why don’t you go out back for now? Let Mom and Dad be alone.”
He scowled at me, but took my advice. I heard Enid and Cashel greet him enthusiastically.
“I want tea,” Gus attached himself to my leg.
“No, you don’t,” I said, ruffling his hair. “You want milk.”
“No, I don’t. Can I have coke?”
“Nope.”
“If I say please?”
“No,” I couldn’t help but laugh—he was so much like his father! But that thought brought me back to the present and I stopped mid-laugh. “Go tell Egan to help you get washed up, okay?”
“Okay,” and he ran out the back door yelling, “Egan! Help me!”
It seemed like forever before Mom and Dad finally entered the kitchen. I was sure Mom had called Dad at work and filled him in as soon as she found out, but I knew they also needed to talk in person. I’d just finished putting all the drinks on the table when they came in. Dad put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into a quick hug.
“How’s my Erika holding up?” he asked.
“Pretty well,” I said.
Dad was the strength in our family. He was a great example to the rest of us in relying on God. He was nearly a foot taller than me, and I fit right into his arm. He wore a suit to work every day, but somewhere between the front door and the kitchen he’d discarded his jacket and loosened his tie. His face was relaxed into its usual smile, but I saw the strain in his eyes.
“Why don’t you go get Emma, Jake,” Mom said. “She’s asleep in Erika’s room and she’s being obstinate.” I noticed Mom looked the better for Dad’s arriving.
“Mm,” Dad hadn’t let go of me yet, and he now put his finger under my chin and tilted my head up so I was looking at him. “Sharing your room’s gonna be tough, huh?”
I shrugged as much as I could with his arm around me.
“Don’t worry, sweet pea, we’ll figure something out.” He tapped my nose and released me, turning toward the stairs. Mom went to the back door to call the others.
And I stood alone in the middle of the kitchen, feeling lost. I had so many questions that I couldn’t ask—I thought marriage was supposed to be easy if you were both Christians and in love. I thought if you were raised in a good home, your home would turn out to be good too. I thought only people without any standards got divorced. I thought divorce was a sin.
I couldn’t ask them because I couldn’t talk to the only person who I’d ever really voiced my thoughts to. And I couldn’t ask my dad because even though normally he had the answer for every question, I was afraid he didn’t have the answer for these. I think that scared me more than anything.
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