Little Lies

Chapter 3: Papa Goes on a Business Trip

The grownups were already eating breakfast when I stood at the doorway of the dining room.

"Good morning, Clara darling," Mama said. "Bessie made pancakes for you. Isn't that nice?"

"Yes, Mama."

"Well, come in and eat."

"No thank you, Mama. I'm not hungry."

Mama put her elbow on the table and put her head in her hand. "No drama this morning, Clara, please.” She turned to Papa. "Michael, can you deal with your--"

"Come here, kitten," Papa said.

I saw Uncle Phil glare at Mama as I ran to Papa.

"Tell me what's wrong," Papa said.

"Are you going away?"

"How did she know that?" Uncle Phil asked.

"Maybe she saw the suitcases," Papa said. He turned to me. "I'll only be gone for a little while. And no matter what happens, I want you to remember that you're always my girl, ok?" Papa gave me a big hug.

"Ok." I gave him a kiss on the nose.

"I love you, kitten."

"I love you too, Papa."

"While I'm gone, you listen to Mama and Uncle Phil and Aunt Fran, ok?"

"Yes, Papa."

=

Uncle Phil stood at the door to my room. "What would you like to do today?”"

I was sprawled on my bed, reading a book. Mr. Teddy sat next to me. Alice floated in the sunshine streaming through the window.

"Nothing."

"We could go to the zoo, you and me and your mama. Would you like that?"

I stared at Uncle Phil. "No."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to see any stinky animals. And I don't want to see any snakes."

"We could go to the park instead, maybe rent a pedal boat and spend some time on the lake. We could eat some gigantic pretzels and cotton candy. I could teach you how to fly a kite. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"Mama doesn't like to go out in the sun. It gives her headaches."

Uncle Phil tapped the doorpost with his fingers a few times. "You and I can go without your mama. Would you like that?"

"No." I returned to my book. Alice giggled.

=

I sat at my desk, drawing a picture of Alice, who was pretending to be a ballerina on the stage I made out of boards and bedsheets. Mr. Teddy sat on the floor, watching her dance.

Aunt Fran knocked on the doorpost. "Good morning. May I come in?"

Alice smiled and nodded.

"Ok," I said.

"How are you and Alice getting along?"

"You can see her?" I whispered.

"I've been able to see ghosts ever since I was a child, just like you, Clara."

We heard Mama's footsteps coming up the stairs and stopped talking.

"How nice, a theater!" Mama said. "Is that one of your imaginary friends on the stage?"

Before I could answer, Aunt Fran shook her head a tiny bit.

Instead of telling Mama the truth, I only said, "Yes, Mama."

Aunt Fran winked.

Mama laughed and turned to Aunt Fran. "I'm certain it's because she's an only child. Her imagination is quite…imaginative."

"Why are you all dressed up, Mama?"

"Franny, you haven't told her yet?"

"I haven't had a chance, Jo."

"Well then, I'll wait for you both downstairs. But we have to hurry."

Aunt Fran waited until Mama's footsteps faded. "Seeing ghosts is a special gift, Clara. But be careful who you tell, especially your mama."

"What should I say when people ask about Alice?"

Aunt Fran's shoulders sagged. "You'll have to lie."

I frowned. "Papa always told me lying was bad."

"It is, usually. One day I'll tell you what happened when I told your mama about my first ghost." Aunt Fran walked over to me and caressed my cheek. "I promise you, Clara. A little lie is better than losing your best friend."

I stood up and hugged Aunt Fran. "I love you." I sat back down at my table. "What were you supposed to tell me?"

"We grownups want to take you to the opera. It's a special treat."

I frowned. "Papa doesn't like the opera. He says it's just a bunch of fat people who sing."

Aunt Fran looked at the floor and tried not to smile. "Did your papa ever read you the story of Hansel and Gretel? That's what those fat people are singing today."

I grinned. "I'd like to see that."

"Just one thing. You have to wear a fancy dress."

I made a face. "I don't like dresses. Can't I wear my pirate outfit?"

Aunt Fran shook her head. "No, you have to wear a dress. But only for a little while. And then maybe afterwards, we'll get some ice cream, ok?"

I sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Ok. Can Alice come?"

"If she wants. I don't think anybody will mind." Aunt Fran pretended to cough. "Which dress would you like to wear?"

Uncle Phil drove us to the opera in town. "I'm the luckiest man in the world," he said as he escorted us to the theater entrance, Mama on one arm, Aunt Fran on the other, and me holding Mama's hand. "I'm with the three most beautiful women in the world."

We sat in our seats, and the theater darkened. The singing began.

I sunk into my seat.

"What's wrong, Clara?" Uncle Phil whispered.

"I don't like this," I whispered.

"What?" he whispered back.

"I don't like this," I said a little louder.

"I can't hear you, they're singing too loud," he whispered.

"I don't like this," I said, loud enough for everyone in the theater to hear. "They look funny, I don't like the music, and I don't understand what they're saying. Can we go home now?" I looked at Aunt Fran, who was doubled up in her seat. "Aunt Fran, are you ok?"

We all got up, and Uncle Phil drove us home.

=

I sat down at the table for dinner. Bessie put a bowl of tomato soup in front of me.

"Look, Clara," Mama said. "Bessie put cheddar cheese cubes in the soup. Isn't that your favorite?"

I put my elbows on either side of the bowl and rested my head in my hands.

"What's wrong?" Aunt Fran asked.

"I miss Papa." A tear slid down my cheek.

"It's been a long week without your papa," Aunt Fran said.

I nodded.

"A very long week," Mama said.

"Eat your soup, Clara," Uncle Phil said.

I picked up my spoon in one hand, one cheek still resting on the other hand, and stirred my soup.

Uncle Phil's face turned red. "Clara, what did your papa tell you?"

"He told me to listen to you."

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yes."

"What did I say?"

"You said eat my soup."

"So?"

"Papa said listen to you, not do what you said. And you're not my papa."

Uncle Phil stood up.

A horn honked twice outside the window.

"Papa!" I threw the spoon down on the table, splattering tomato soup on the white tablecloth, and ran.

Before I left the room, I heard Mama say, "Thank heavens."