Amaryllis turned the heat off the cranberries that were on the stove and set the wooden spoon down. “Is it the curtain story?” She nudged Anna and rolled her eyes. “This is a good one.”
“Our mother had the flu,” Bishop said. “She was upstairs with a hundred-and-two fever, and Dad told her we had dinner covered and she should stay in bed. I was ten. Kingston was twelve.”
“So it was just us. Dad, me, Bishop, a twenty-two-pound turkey, and a cookbook that had been printed in the twenties. Our father crankedthe oven up to four-fifty because he thought higher meant it would be done faster, then he went to check on our mom.”
Bishop motioned with his hands. “Keep going.”
“Our dad told me to keep an eye on it.” I couldn’t tell if Kingston’s cheeks were red because it was warm in the camp or if he was embarrassed.
“How long did you last?” Amaryllis asked like she already knew the answer.
“About five minutes.”
“And then he put me in charge. And as a reminder, I was ten,” said Bishop. “Anyway, it started smelling funny, so I got up and looked through the window in the oven door, and the whole bird was on fire. Apparently, you’re supposed to take the plastic wrapper off before you roast it.”
“Bishop screamed his little head off?—”
“I didn’t scream. I yelled for help.”
“Right. So of course Dad came tearing down the stairs, with Mom behind him. She ran around him, pushed us out of the way, and?—”
“It was like the fire extinguisher came out of nowhere. I decided she was a superhero that day.” Thelook on Bishop’s face was so sweet. I almost leaned over and kissed him.
“What happened next?” Anna asked.
“She turns around and looks from one of us to the other, then to Dad. Then she said, ‘Get the hell out of my kitchen.’ She seethed more than yelled, so we knew she was way beyond mad.”
“All Dad said was, ‘Come on, boys.’” Bishop lowered his head and laughed. “It took us forty minutes to find a place that was even open, and then when we asked if they served turkey, they literally made fun of us.”
“In all fairness to them, it was a sushi place,” said Kingston.
I was laughing harder than I had in months, until I saw the look on Lyra’s face. I couldn’t figure out if she was amused, sad, or not paying attention to the story.
“Maybe it’s good we never had a normal holiday,” I said. “We probably would’ve done worse.”
She nodded once, got up from the table, and left the room. Henry followed.
“I guess I said the wrong thing,” I mumbled. “I better go see if she’s all right.”
I stood and walked out of the kitchen like they had. Bishop was right behind me.
Lyra was standing at the big picture window, facing the lake. Henry had his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder.
“Lyra?”
She didn’t respond, so I walked closer.
“Look, I’m sorry. What I said in the kitchen was insensitive.”
“That isn’t it.” She looked at me with tears in her eyes. “It isn’t what you said, Katarina. I promise you.”
“Then, what’s wrong?”
“May I?” Henry asked her.
Lyra nodded, and he led her over to the sofa. When they both sat down, I rested on the arm of a chair. Bishop stood beside me.
“When I drove Mrs.Eggers up to her daughter’s the morning after we arrived, I met her and her husband. Both are professors at Syracuse University. They were talking to me about it, and I mentioned I used to teach ethics at Colgate.”
