She yawns, “Goodnight.”
She didn’t see the toothbrush! Can’t imagine how I could’ve explained that. Shutting my door, I stare at the suitcase brazenly sprawled on my bed as if I put it there without a care in the world. Lucky for me her bedroom is in the other direction. If she’d walked past, all would be lost.
How long will she be in there?
I hear footsteps.
The click of her bedroom door.
Don’t be a goose!
Move!
Avoiding all the floorboards that I know for a fact creak, I wrap my toothbrush in a clean scarf. This will have to do.
Steeling myself, I hold the doorknob, take two silent but very deep breaths, and turn it.
I’m simply grabbing a small snack from the kitchen, that’s all I’m doing.
Perhaps I’m thirsty, and need something to remove the parch.
Perfectly normal!
Downstairs I catch sight of Father sprawled on our sofa.
I’m just walking to the kitchen like a normal daughter who would never sneak out and marry the man you don’t like. Please don’t look over here. You’d see a guilty expression I can’t explain.
He snores.
It turns me around and tiptoes me right up the stairs. I lift my suitcase, oh-so-casually peek into the hallway, and tiptoe back down.
The last floor board creeks.
Of course it does.
It always has.
A snarf noise is immediately followed by a groggy, “Dottie?”
Tucking the suitcase out of sight by our front door, I hurry into the living room. “No, it’s May.”
“May? What’s this about?”
“Nothing Daddy. I was just going to the kitchen for a snack.” He blinks at me. “I’m sorry I’m not Mother.”
He grumbles incoherent nonsense and flips onto his side, facing the back of the sofa. To keep up the ruse, I rummage through our cupboards, and carry cookies upstairs. But I don’t go all the way up. I’m going to hide here and wait for that horrendous noise again. Then and only then will I be certain it’s time to make my move.
I wish I could eat these.
But they’re so crunchy.
How long does it take for men to fall asleep?
Oh!
Not long!
How does Mother live with that infernal racket?