Alice made a disappointed face.
“I know.” Smiling, Julia bent down and retrieved her box of blocks. She set them out on the table, arranging them carefully. They were big plastic blocks with numbers on one side and letters on the other. Often she used them to teach Alice the alphabet, but today they were going to count. “Take the block that has the number one on it. One.”
Alice immediately grabbed the single red block and pulled it toward her.
“Good girl. Now the number four.”
They kept at the counting for almost an hour. Alice’s progress was nothing short of amazing. In less than two weeks she’d memorized all the numbers up to fifteen. Rarely did she make a mistake.
But by three o’clock she was getting cranky and tired. It was nearing nap time. She smacked the book again. “Read.”
“Okay, okay.” Julia leaned over and pulled Alice into her lap. She held her tightly, smoothing the silky black hair from her face. Finally, Alice popped her thumb in her mouth and waited.
Julia started to read. She had only gotten through the first paragraph when Alice tensed and let out a low growl.
A moment later there was a knock at the door.
Alice growled again, then stopped herself, as if remembering that this was a word world. “Scared,” she whispered.
“I know, honey.”
Ellie opened the door and stepped into the room.
Alice made a strangled sound, slid out of Julia’s lap, and ran over to her hiding place in the potted plants.
Ellie sighed. “Is she ever going to stop being afraid of me?”
Julia smiled. “Give her time.”
Ellie glanced around the room. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s like any developing toddler. She’s learning words and reading expression and body language to pull it all together.”
“How do I tell her I’m sorry? Make her understand I trapped her for her own good?”
“She can’t understand that complex an idea yet.”
“Thirty-nine years old and I can’t make one little girl like me. No wonder I’m sterile. God saw my parenting potential.”
“You’re not sterile.”
“If I’m not, it’s over anyway. My eggs are drying up faster than fish on a barbecue.”
Julia went to her sister and said softly, “That’s about the fifth time you’ve told me you want to have kids.”
“It comes out at the weirdest times.”
“Dreams are like that. You can’t keep ’em submerged. I’ll tell you what, Ellie. Why don’t you try to connect with Alice? I’ll teach you how.”
Ellie sighed miserably. “Yeah, right. I can’t even get my dogs to heel.”
“Alice will give you a chance. Just spend time with her.”
“She can’t stand to be in the same room with me.”
“Try harder. Tonight, you’ll read her a story after dinner. I’ll go downstairs, leave you two alone.”
Ellie seemed to think about that. “She’ll stay in the fake forest.”
“Then try again tomorrow night. Sooner or later, she’ll give you a chance.”
“You really think so?”
“I know so.”
Ellie seemed to think about it. “Okay. I’ll give it a try.” She looked at Julia. “Thanks.”
Julia nodded.
Ellie started to leave. At the door, she paused and turned around. “I almost forgot why I came in here. Thursday is Thanksgiving. Can you cook?”
“Salads. You?”
“Only meals that involve melted cheese. Preferably Velveeta.”
“We’re a pathetic pair.”
“We are.”
Julia said, “We could try Mom’s old recipes. I’ll order a turkey today and go shopping. How hard can it be?”
“It’ll be like the old days with Mom and Dad. We can invite people over.”
“Cal’s family?” Julia said.
“Of course. Is there anyone else you’d like to ask?”
“What about Max? He doesn’t have any family here.”
Ellie’s gaze was a laser beam. “No,” she said slowly. “He doesn’t.”
“I’ll … call him, then.”
“You’re playing with fire, little sister, and you burn easily.”
“It’s just a dinner invitation.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Have you seen the amount of butter that goes in Mom’s dressing? This can’t be right.”
Ellie didn’t bother answering her sister. She was facing issues of her own. Somewhere in this turkey (what the hell had Julia been thinking to buy a twenty-pound bird? They’d be eating turkey until Lent) was a bag of body parts she didn’t want to eat, but apparently also didn’t want to cook. “You think the giblet bag dissolves during cooking? If I get my arm any farther up this bird’s ass, I’m gonna see my own fingers.”
Julia looked down at her own task, frowning. “Do you have an at-home defibrillator?”
Ellie laughed at that. “Aha!” she said a minute later, finding the giblet bag and pulling it out. She then basted the bird with butter (to Julia’s horror) and placed it on Grandma Dotty’s roasting pan. “Are you going to put some of the dressing in the bird?”
“I guess so.”