“And girls, I’d like five tumblers from that cabinet to your right.”
While Delia was measuring sugar, she secretly checked the clock on the wall above her. Ten minutes till four. She glanced at the twins and cleared her throat. “If Susie isn’t back by the time you finish your lemonade, maybe I could take you to the pool,” she said.
Linda said, “You?” and the twins said, in a single voice, “You hate to swim!”
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t actually go in. I’d just drive you over, and then Susie could pick you up later.”
Eliza clinked ice into the tumblers. Linda took a seat at the head of the table, and the twins claimed the chairs on either side of her. When Delia placed the pitcher of lemonade in front of them, Marie-Claire cried, “Ick! It’s full of shreddy things!”
“Those are good for you,” Linda said as she started pouring.
“And big seeds besides!”
“They won’t hurt you.”
“That’s what she says,” Thérèse told Marie-Claire in an ominous tone. “Really they’ll take root in your stomach and grow lemon trees out your ears.”
“Oh, honestly, Thérèse,” Linda said.
Ignoring her, the twins gazed significantly across the table at each other. Finally Marie-Claire said, “I guess we’re not thirsty after all.”
“We’ll just go change into our swimsuits,” Thérèse added.
They scooted their chairs back and raced out of the kitchen.
“Ah, me,” Linda sighed. “Sorry, Lize.”
“That’s all right,” Eliza said stiffly.
There were times when Delia realized, for an instant, that Eliza was what they used to call an old maid. She looked so forlorn in her eccentric weekend outfit of safari suit and clunky shoes; she pulled out a chair with her head down, her chopped black hair falling forward to hide her expression, and she seated herself and folded her small hands resolutely on the table.
“Well, I’m thirsty!” Delia said loudly, and she sat down too and reached for one of the tumblers. From the hall she heard a series of thumps—the twins’ suitcase, no doubt, being hauled up the stairs. Apparently they still planned to room with Susie, if the creaks that began overhead were any indication.
Outside the open window, a workman’s bearded face popped into view. He looked at the women, blinked, and disappeared. Delia and Linda saw him, but Eliza, who had her back to him, did not. “What is he up to, anyhow?” Linda asked.
Eliza said, “He? Who?”
“The workman,” Delia explained.
“No, not the workman,” Linda said. “I meant Sam. Why is he having all the shrubs torn out?”
“Well, they’re old and straggly, he says.”
“Can’t he just cut them back or something? And central air-conditioning! This house is not the type for air-conditioning.”
“I’m sure we’ll appreciate it once the weather heats up,” Eliza said. “Have some lemonade, Linda.”
Linda took a tumbler, but she didn’t drink from it. “I’d just like to know where he found the money,” she said darkly. “Plus: this house is in our three names, not his. We’re the ones Dad left it to.”
Delia glanced toward the window. (She suspected the workman oflurking beneath it, absorbed as all workmen seemed to be in other people’s private lives.) “Goodness!” she said. “We’d better get to the pool. Anybody want anything from Eddie’s?”
“Eddie’s?” Eliza asked.
“I might stop for some fruit on my way home.”
“Delia, have you forgotten Sam’s mother is coming to dinner? And you still have the Medicare bills to see to! Why don’t I take the twins, instead, and then go to Eddie’s after.”
“No! Please!” Delia said. “I mean, I have plenty of time. And besides, I need to choose the fruit myself because I’m not sure what I—”
She was offering too many explanations—always a mistake. Linda didn’t notice, but Eliza could read her mind, Delia sometimes thought, and she was watching Delia consideringly. “Anyhow,” Delia said.
While Delia was measuring sugar, she secretly checked the clock on the wall above her. Ten minutes till four. She glanced at the twins and cleared her throat. “If Susie isn’t back by the time you finish your lemonade, maybe I could take you to the pool,” she said.
Linda said, “You?” and the twins said, in a single voice, “You hate to swim!”
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t actually go in. I’d just drive you over, and then Susie could pick you up later.”
Eliza clinked ice into the tumblers. Linda took a seat at the head of the table, and the twins claimed the chairs on either side of her. When Delia placed the pitcher of lemonade in front of them, Marie-Claire cried, “Ick! It’s full of shreddy things!”
“Those are good for you,” Linda said as she started pouring.
“And big seeds besides!”
“They won’t hurt you.”
“That’s what she says,” Thérèse told Marie-Claire in an ominous tone. “Really they’ll take root in your stomach and grow lemon trees out your ears.”
“Oh, honestly, Thérèse,” Linda said.
Ignoring her, the twins gazed significantly across the table at each other. Finally Marie-Claire said, “I guess we’re not thirsty after all.”
“We’ll just go change into our swimsuits,” Thérèse added.
They scooted their chairs back and raced out of the kitchen.
“Ah, me,” Linda sighed. “Sorry, Lize.”
“That’s all right,” Eliza said stiffly.
There were times when Delia realized, for an instant, that Eliza was what they used to call an old maid. She looked so forlorn in her eccentric weekend outfit of safari suit and clunky shoes; she pulled out a chair with her head down, her chopped black hair falling forward to hide her expression, and she seated herself and folded her small hands resolutely on the table.
“Well, I’m thirsty!” Delia said loudly, and she sat down too and reached for one of the tumblers. From the hall she heard a series of thumps—the twins’ suitcase, no doubt, being hauled up the stairs. Apparently they still planned to room with Susie, if the creaks that began overhead were any indication.
Outside the open window, a workman’s bearded face popped into view. He looked at the women, blinked, and disappeared. Delia and Linda saw him, but Eliza, who had her back to him, did not. “What is he up to, anyhow?” Linda asked.
Eliza said, “He? Who?”
“The workman,” Delia explained.
“No, not the workman,” Linda said. “I meant Sam. Why is he having all the shrubs torn out?”
“Well, they’re old and straggly, he says.”
“Can’t he just cut them back or something? And central air-conditioning! This house is not the type for air-conditioning.”
“I’m sure we’ll appreciate it once the weather heats up,” Eliza said. “Have some lemonade, Linda.”
Linda took a tumbler, but she didn’t drink from it. “I’d just like to know where he found the money,” she said darkly. “Plus: this house is in our three names, not his. We’re the ones Dad left it to.”
Delia glanced toward the window. (She suspected the workman oflurking beneath it, absorbed as all workmen seemed to be in other people’s private lives.) “Goodness!” she said. “We’d better get to the pool. Anybody want anything from Eddie’s?”
“Eddie’s?” Eliza asked.
“I might stop for some fruit on my way home.”
“Delia, have you forgotten Sam’s mother is coming to dinner? And you still have the Medicare bills to see to! Why don’t I take the twins, instead, and then go to Eddie’s after.”
“No! Please!” Delia said. “I mean, I have plenty of time. And besides, I need to choose the fruit myself because I’m not sure what I—”
She was offering too many explanations—always a mistake. Linda didn’t notice, but Eliza could read her mind, Delia sometimes thought, and she was watching Delia consideringly. “Anyhow,” Delia said.
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