All Dressed Up Read Online Free PDF Page B

it, hauled it here, laid
it on a good foundation, put in modern fittings, had it re-wired
and added the wide screened porch that ran right along the
lakeward-looking front of the house. The whole family spent most of
the summer sitting out here.
    The atmosphere
had no right to be this peaceful and pleasant. There was a lot to
get done – and get through – tomorrow.
    Dad sang on
for Emma.
    He was a
sturdy man, long legs, broad shoulders. He’d always had a little
spare padding on his frame and some thickness around the waist,
even when he was young. He’d never been athletic, and still seemed
entranced by Mom’s springiness and capability. He walked, but that
was about it.
    Physically,
Sarah took after him the most. Big bones. She would one day no
doubt get his wiry pepper-and-salt hair, too, not Mom’s own silkier
and more youthful fall of silver and beige.
    Which would go
to Emma, naturally.
    He looked up
and saw Mom and they smiled at each other, a life’s-too-complicated
kind of smile, then he turned his mouth down and she shrugged at
him. After almost thirty years of marriage, there were a lot of
things they said to each other without words. Mostly good things,
it seemed to Sarah, because as Mom had indicated, they were happy
together, appreciative of each other, mutually reliant.
    Which wasn’t
the same thing as co-dependent at all.
    Mom listened
to a couple of verses of Wichita Lineman, then asked Dad, “Should I
go up to her?”
    He stopped
singing and dropped his playing to a background strum. “She’s
exhausted, Terri. Leave her alone for tonight.”
    “I think I’m
going to go up.” She stood, stubborn.
    “Do you hear
what you do?” Dad declaimed, angry and indulgent at the same time.
“You ask what I think and then you ignore it and do the exact
opposite.”
    “Mostly I
don’t ignore it.”
    “I’m going to
start a tally. Mostly you do ignore it, unless I say what you
wanted to do in the first place.”
    “Mostly I know
what you’ll say without having to ask and I accept that you’re
right so we never get to this. I’m going up.” She came back down
after two minutes, humbler and quieter. “I didn’t go in, you were
right, she has her door shut and the room is dark, I had to see for
myself, okay, Eric, so don’t yell at me.”
    Dad never
yelled at her. It was typically wild and inaccurate of Mom to
suggest that he might. There was a certain role specialization in
their marriage. Mom did emotionally volatile. Dad did steady as a
rock. It seemed to work for them.
    Dad kept
playing and Mom went back to the kitchen to check on the coffee.
Sarah put down her book and followed her, too restless to sit.
    “Is Billy
okay, do you think?” Mom asked her. She always acted as if Sarah
was the authority on Billy.
    Yeah, which
she probably was. “From what he said down at the lake, he’s wisely
planning to stay out of the whole thing.”
    “What else did
he say down at the lake?”
    “Just that.
Plus that if he was Charlie he wouldn’t want to marry Emma, either,
he’d rather go on the witness protection program.”
    “Earrgh!”
    They took a
minute’s silence for mourning. The whole family liked Charlie.
    “What did you
do down there?” Mom asked.
    “Played in the
sand. Went out in the canoe.”
    “Did you see
ballet camp?” There was some carefulness in her voice.
    “It can’t have
started yet. The boats weren’t put out or anything.”
    “It’s closed.
It’s for sale, the Tuppers said.”
    “Really?”
Sarah felt an uncoiling of curiosity and memories that made her
stomach go queasy.
    Mom didn’t
appear to notice. Or didn’t let on that she’d noticed. Give her
some credit, Sarah. “You and Dad keep Billy busy tomorrow, can
you?” Mom suggested instead. “I’ll help Emma.”
    “If she’ll let
you.”
    “Even if she
won’t.”
    “I’d like to
see which of you wins that one.”
    Mom hugged
her. “Yes, you don’t have to tell me, you’re my easy daughter, I
know