Read Online Flying in Place by Susan Palwick - Free Book Online Page A

away from my father. “Yeah, well, it sounds like Tad should have known better, too. Jane doesn’t take anything from anybody, and everybody knows it.”
    “You admire that girl entirely too much, Emma. This is the real world, remember? There’s no such thing as Superwoman. What’s Jane going to do—punch her way through life? This is a civilized society. You can’t live that way, and her parents are doing her a terrible disservice if they tell her that she can.”
    “Are they?” My voice sounded strange to me, too high and far away, and I had to hold onto the plates very tightly so they wouldn’t slip out of my hands, “Mr. Halloran was defending her because she’s his daughter and he loves her. That’s what parents are supposed to do, isn’t it? Love their kids even if the kids do something wrong? Wouldn’t you two have done that much for Ginny?”
    I’d known better than to suggest that they’d do anything similar for me, but Mom reached me around the table in five swift steps and drew her hand back as if she were going to slap me. I raised the plates as a shield, thinking, I can’t drop them. I can’t drop them. She’ll kill me if I drop them.
    “Pamela!” My father was on his feet in an instant, catching hold of her wrist. “Stop it! Who’s acting like Jane now?”
    Mom had never tried to hit me before. I couldn’t imagine her hitting anybody. I’d never seen her so mad; her face was a mask of white, condensed fury. “Ginny was not a slut!” she said, her voice shaking. “Ginny was a sweet little girl!”
    “Jane’s not a slut either, Mom!” Her eyes narrowed, and I knew I’d said the wrong thing again. “Mom, look, that wasn’t what I meant anyway, really it wasn’t—”
    “What did you mean, then?”
    “I think what she meant,” my father said sharply, putting his free arm around her waist, “is that parents are blind when it comes to their children. This is certainly true of Tom Halloran, who can’t see little Jane’s healthy anatomy waving in the breeze for anyone to snatch at, and unfortunately it’s equally true of you where Ginny’s concerned—”
    Mom’s face tightened. “Ginny wouldn’t have—”
    “Hush, love.” He’d gone back to his soothing doctor voice. “No, of course she wouldn’t. She devoted her existence to being every bit as pure as you demanded of her, which is why she’s supping with the saints even as we speak—”
    “What?” Mom had grown wild-eyed in the dancing candlelight. She tried to get away from my father, but he held her too tightly. “What are you saying? Are you blaming me that she died?”
    “Oh, Pam! Of course not. I meant that she’s in heaven, that’s all. You’re the poetic one, aren’t you?”
    “You think I killed her, don’t you? I know you do! You think it’s my fault, because I encouraged her when we went to the circus.”
    The circus? I’d never been to a circus. Once when I was little I’d asked Mom about them and she’d told me they were stupid, grown people dressed in silly costumes pretending to be children. Even at the time, I’d wondered why silly costumes upset her so much.
    “ You think it’s your fault,” my father said calmly. “I’ve never blamed you, and neither has anyone else. Pam, it wasn’t anybody’s fault, unless you want to blame some bacteria. It just happened, and it was terrible, and we all wish we could undo it. But don’t take it out on the imperfect child, all right? She’s had a bad enough day, what with falling down the Hallorans’ front steps. Emma, are you all right?”
    “Yes.”
    “Did your mother hurt you?”
    “No.” You did. But he didn’t care about that. I was a pumpkin or a balloon, something that wasn’t conscious, something that just endured.
    “I’m sorry,” Mom said stiffly. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you. I know you must be upset about Jane.”
    “Forget it.”
    “Honey—”
    “I said forget it!” The way she said honey curdled my