Parent Trap

❸❷

A M I L A

Grandma Shani couldn't help smiling at the goofy grins on both our faces; our joy over pulling off our plan was contagious, despite her trepidation.

"Girls, you need to eat before everything gets cold," she chided us, noticing we were much too occupied with whispering amongst ourselves to eat. "What are you whispering about now?" she asked us curiously; it wasn't as if she didn't already know what our plans had been.

I grinned from my place at the other side of the dining room table. "We're just trying to figure out what's going on down there. It's been awfully quiet," I answered. Amira nodded beside me in agreement, her smile a mirror image of my mine.

"I think it's because they're too BUSY to 'talk' right now," Amira chirped as the we broke out into giggles.

Grandma Shani sighed at our youthful exuberance as she sobered somewhat, reminding us softly, "Remember what I told you. You can't necessarily hear what's going on down there, and as much as I might like to agree with you girls, they have a lot to work out yet. I hardly think some small talk is going to resolve everything."

Amira, ever the more romantic one, replied, "Did you see the way they were looking at each other earlier?"

Grandma Shani smiled over at her sympathetically, wishing it could be that easy. "Honey, it's not always like in the movies," she told her regretfully.

Just then our daydreaming was interrrupted by the sound of a loud, harsh knocking coming from down the hallway. Two sets of eyes got big as saucers as we heard the familiar, authoritative sound of our Dad calling out to us.

"Girls! It's your Dad! I need you to open this door NOW, young ladies!"

Grams sighed as she pushed back from the table and walked over toward the hallway.

"Grandma..." We pleaded desperately in unison, anxiety written all over our faces.

She shook her head firmly. "I have to see what's going on," she told us sympathetically. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she walked out and down the hallway toward the basement.

Amira's and my head peeked at Dad from the dining room archway. He shook his head as we quickly disappeared back out of sight.

Walking down the hallway and shortly arriving at the entrance to the dining room, he stood just outside the archway, noticing us studiously surveying our dinner plates as we picked at our food silently, our attention so seemingly focused on our meal that we appeared not to notice his arrival. He wasn't fooled for one second, however.

Blowing out a soft breath between his lips, he walked in and quietly sat down across from us, noticing the remains of Grandma's half-finished dinner in front of him.

He stared over at us, both our our heads still down and remarkably silent as we pushed our food around on our plates; he noticed that neither one of us were actually taking any bites of it now.

"Let's go outside," he quietly said to us at last. "We need to talk, girls."

I slowly raised my gaze to stare into my his, afraid of what I might see now that our trickery had been discovered and things had apparently not gone the way we had hoped.

"Is...Is Mom okay?" I asked him anxiously as Amira, too, lifted her eyes to stare over at Dad, the concern evident in her face.

"Yeah, she's okay," he hastened to assure both of us. He pushed back from the table to rise. "Come on," he urged us. "We need to have a heart-to-heart talk - without your mom around. Get moving, girls," he pressed when we hesitated.