In fact, this wasn’t the first time Cassie had told me I was fragile, weak, and prone to illness. Whenever I did get a cold or a bellyache, she was always there, nodding her head as if she had expected it. Maybe she’s right, I thought. Maybe I am fragile. I had to admit she hardly ever got sick. She had gone years without missing a day of school. When I had asked Mother about it once, she had said, “Cassie just has a better immune system than most people. She’s lucky, but don’t worry. There’s nothing terribly wrong with you. You’re a normal young girl.”
What did that mean? Cassie wasn’t normal?
I lowered my head to my pillow again but kept my eyes open. Was Cassie right? Would things get worse? What could we do about it, anyway? And why hadn’t I ever noticed how Daddy revealed things to her but not to me?
I had a hard time falling back to sleep, but I finally did, and when I woke up, dressed, and went down for breakfast, I was surprised to see Cassie already in the kitchen making breakfast. I glanced into the dining room and saw Daddy at the table reading the morning paper. This morning, he looked as well put together as ever in his pin-stripe suit and tie, his hair as perfect as usual. There was no evidence in his face or demeanor that he had suffered a horrible night with Mother.
“Where’s Mother?” I asked Cassie.
She continued to work, preparing some soft-boiled eggs the way Daddy liked them, all mashed up. She flitted about to get the toast, cream cheese, and coffee set up on a tray. Daddy liked his toast cut into perfect quarters, and she cut it as if she had a ruler in her head. Finally, she turned to me and grimaced.
“Mother’s not feeling well this morning, Semantha. I’m getting Daddy his breakfast first because he has to get to the office, and then I’ll look after Mother. Make your own breakfast. Squeeze your oranges for your juice. Also, I won’t be going with you to school today, so you’ll have to take the bus. Well? Get moving. Don’t dilly-dally.”
“Why aren’t you going to school?”
She glanced at the open doorway to the dining room and drew closer to me.
“I’m staying home to look after her,” she whispered. “Daddy can’t miss work.”
“Oh. Should I go up to see how she is?”
“She’s still asleep, which is not surprising. Just take care of your own needs for now, and behave yourself in school,” she added, as though she were decades older than I was, not just two years. I started to say something to defend myself. I always behaved in school, and except for the one time I was reprimanded for talking too much to Darlene Gavin, I never was sent to the dean’s office or assigned detention.
But the moment I opened my mouth, Cassie shot daggers from her eyes, and I snapped my mouth shut and went to squeeze my oranges. I watched how perfectly she continued to arrange Daddy’s breakfast, with the eggs placed at twelve o’clock, the juice at three, and the coffee at nine. The plate of cream cheese was at six. It looked good enough to be a picture in a food magazine. She smiled at me and then took it out to him. I hurried to join him with my juice and cereal.
When he smiled and said, “Good morning,” to me, I looked hard for some subt
le message, but I didn’t see anything like the suggestions of unhappiness with Mother that Cassie had described to me the night before.
“Mother’s not feeling well?” I asked.
“Oh, just some typical pregnant woman stuff,” he replied, not sounding at all concerned, and surely nowhere nearly as concerned as Cassie was. “I see here in the paper that your school’s basketball team is contending for first place.”
“Uh-huh.”
“First time in nearly ten years. You and Cassie should go to the next game on Friday night, a home game. It’s the big one, according to this article. It should be exciting. I was on my school’s basketball team, you know. We went to the finals when I was a senior.”
“I want to go,” I said quickly.
Kent had asked me if I was going. He wanted to sit with me. I was afraid that if Cassie did go with me, however, she wouldn’t let me sit with him.
“I’m not interested in the game,” Cassie said, coming in quickly. “It’s noisy and crowded and a waste of time.”
Daddy shrugged and smiled at me. “Well, I guess not everyone’s into sports.”
“I’d like to go,” I said.
“And how do you intend to go, Semantha? I’m not driving you,” Cassie said, “and Daddy’s certainly too busy to—”
“No, that’s fine. I’ll take her and pick her up,” he offered.
Her face reddened. “You don’t have to do that, Daddy,” she said. “If she’s so intent on going, I’ll take her.”
He continued to eat his breakfast. “Whatever you girls decide,” he said. “What a beautiful breakfast! These eggs are perfect, Cassie. Just like your mother makes them.”
Her hard, angry look softened into a smile.
Later, before I went out to walk to the corner to meet the school bus, Cassie popped out at me from the living room, where she was dusting and polishing furniture. She grabbed my arm and tugged me closer to her. Daddy had already left for work.