Nana Pete smiles offhandedly at Mom. “Of course,” she says, rearranging herself back into the couch. “I remember.”
Mom sits back down on the couch next to Dad and shoots Benny and me a look. “Fasten your robe, Benedict,” she whispers. “And tie your belt cord. You must remember that you are in a sacred place.”
Benny scrambles again to his feet. I help him adjust his robe and cord until they both hang down neatly around him. Nana Pete watches us with a slightly pained expression on her face.
“That’s better,” Mom says, nodding. “Now sit back down and lower your voices.”
I sit carefully, putting my hands on the seat first and then sliding my bottom over them, biting my tongue so that I don’t wince.
Nana Pete is watching me. “Is something wrong, Mouse?” she asks.
I look up quickly, as if I have been caught. “No, no,” I answer, shaking my head.
Nana Pete’s violet eyes crinkle a little the way they do when she knows I am not telling the truth. I stare at Mom’s feet, which are encased in brown sandals. Her toenails need to be cut.
“Did Emmanuel call for you and Honey this morning, Agnes?” Mom asks, pulling her feet abruptly under her robe. I nod, keeping my eyes on the space where her feet have disappeared. This is all that needs to be said between us. They know the rest. Later, when we return to our own house, they may ask the reason why I was sent to see Emmanuel; then again, they may not. It is not up to them to discipline me for the major wrongs I commit; that is Emmanuel’s job.
Nana Pete looks confused for a moment by the things not being said between my parents and me. She opens her mouth, leans toward Mom, and then closes it again. Putting her arm around me, she pulls me in close. “I’m so glad to see you, darlin’,” she murmurs. She squeezes Benny, who is on the other side of her. “And you too, cowboy.”
A faint ringing sounds from inside Nana Pete’s leather bag. “Pardon me,” she says. A muscle in Dad’s cheek moves as she begins rummaging through her bag. The ring gets louder as she pulls out a thin silver box. We stare as she flips open the top of it, gazes at something for a moment, and then shuts it again with a click. The ringing stops.
“Cool!” Benny breathes, leaning over Nana Pete’s lap. “Is that a phone?”
Nana Pete laughs. “Of course it’s a phone, Benny!” I watch out of the corner of my eye as she flips the top up again and holds it out for him to see. “It’s a cell phone! Haven’t you ever seen one of these?”
Benny and I shake our heads. Mom clears her throat.
“Mother.” Dad sits forward a little in his seat. “Please. Put the phone away. You know things like that are not allowed here. And turn it off so it doesn’t ring anymore.”
Nana Pete slides the tiny phone back inside her purse and, exchanging a look with Dad, crosses her pink rattleskinsnake boots at the ankle. “Fine. But are you really serious about not leaving here for the rest of the afternoon—even to visit with your old mother?”
Dad sighs and glances apologetically at Mom. “Mother. Keep your voice down, first of all.” Nana Pete presses a finger against her lips. Dad closes his eyes briefly, as if searching inside for an untapped source of patience. “As I said before, Ruth and I are in the middle of planning the details of the Ascension March, which is taking place here Thursday evening. It’s a very, very big deal, one of the holiest days of the year, and this year Emmanuel has asked me and Ruth to lead all the team meetings.”
Mom casts her eyes down at the floor. “To be asked to plan such an event is an enormous honor,” she says.
Dad draws his thumb and index finger over the sides of his mustache. “I remember telling you specifically about this whole thing the last time we spoke on the phone, Mother.”
“Which would have been when?” Nana Pete asks, reaching under the leg of her pants to scratch her shin. “Eight months ago?”