Cherry Two

Part 4

Chapter 2

The following morning Calley slept in. Saturdays were great. Her father had never been an early-riser and nor was she. Kate sang along to the kitchen radio as she prepared breakfast in a bathrobe, apron and slippers. Calley came up behind her.

"Oh! There you are. You gave me a start."

"Mmm, something smells good." The daughter leaned over the griddle and dipped an explorative finger in the pancake batter. "Mum, there's a photo in the album taken in here. Calley is wearing what you have on... except for the shoes. You know the one."

"Here we go again. Don't you think of anything else these days? So what about the photo?"

"Do you suppose it was taken just after... the first time they... you know?"

Her mother looked irritated at the way Calley always fished for some sort of confirmation. "Sit down, I'm ready to dish up this batch. Where's your father?" Kate turned her head and yelled through the open kitchen window. "Peter, come inside; breakfast's on the table. Leave Pancake alone and come eat your pancakes. Wash your hands first."

The middle-aged woman looked sternly at her daughter. "We talked last night, Jim and me. This obsession has to stop. No more third degree about old photos and what your father did in California... or what he did in this house for that matter. He doesn't want to hear it and I don't want to hear it. He'll tell you what we both decided when he comes down."

Pouting, Calley plonked, unladylike, into a kitchen chair. "Is it good or bad?" she said cautiously.

"You'll think it's good. I'm not so sure I do."

Her eyes came wide. "You're letting me go! You're letting me go to see Aunt Sonia?"

"Wait for your father. There are conditions—lots of them. This is far from the kind of wild excursion you have in mind."

The door to the back garden opened. "Where's Dad?" Peter joined Calley at the table, scratching his elbow.

"Did you wash your hands like I told you?"

"Oh, Mum."

"Go wash them now. That old dog rolls about in all sorts of muck. By the way, were you in Calley's room last night?"

The boy glanced at his sister as he got up. "No. Well, only for a minute. I wanted my CD back."

"At one-o'clock in the morning? That's right, I heard you."

Calley laughed at his distraught face. "He's a wimp, Mum. Wants me to tell him a bedtime story before he'll go to sleep."

Peter stuck his tongue out at his sister and headed for the stairs. Kate poured steaming tea from a cozy-covered pot. "You shouldn't let him do it any more. He's getting too old for that kind of thing."

Again the girl laughed. "You don't really believe he'd try anything rude on me? I'd smack him silly."

"It's unhealthy, that's all I'm saying."

Calley wasn't listening. If she'd added it up right she'd be off to California, conditions or no conditions. She positively tingled inside.

***

That afternoon James sat Calley down in the front room by the bay window. An imitation fire glowed in the hearth. On and off it had been a bitter cold March.