Page 7 of A Thin Line

After we set it on its side, we both pulled out the legs on our respective sides—and she started talking. “I’m Piper, by the way.”

“Lise.”

After we started setting up the second table, she asked, “Miller, right?”

“Yeah.”

It wasn’t until we were unfolding the third and last table that she ventured further. “I hate to ask…but is your dad Rowan Miller?”

My shoulders dropped because now I knew where this conversation was heading. When people found out who my family was, that was usually the end of any potential friendship. But I wasn’t about to lie. I loved my father and I wasn’t going to pretend otherwise, despite what the community thought of him. “Yes.”

After we set the table up, she said, “Just a sec.” When she walked into the other side of the auditorium, I reminded myself again that this day was almost over. Just a few more hours.

Moments later, Piper returned with an armful of silky off-white linen tablecloths. She threw the pile on the last table and picked up one, motioning with her head to the first table—and I followed. Quickly, she unraveled the cloth and gave me one end. Then we straightened and smoothed it over the table.

“This has to be pretty awkward for you.”

I had a feeling I knew what she was talking about, but I didn’t want to jump in a pile of dung when I might have had the opportunity to step around it. “What’s that?”

“Having to be nice to him.” I simply shrugged as we moved to the second table, spreading another tablecloth on top. I didn’t know if she was bored or trying to be nice, but she pressed, nonetheless. “If it was me, I’d have a hard time being polite, especially with Cruella de Vil kissing his ass.”

“I’m just doing my job.”

“Yeah, but—they raked your dad over the coals. At least, that’s what my mom told me. I can’t remember the whole deal. I was too young to know what was going on.”

I lied. “Me, too.” In truth, I remembered every agonizing day my father would come home, beaten down more than he’d been the day before. My mother had been there back then. And it was only a matter of time before I started becoming the target of bullies at school, kids happy for any excuse to ostracize, tease, and torment another.

“I bet you’ll be glad when this is over.”

“Yeah. Probably you too.”

Piper laughed. “True. At least this is the last thing I have to do before I can enjoy a short summer break.”

The girl seemed nice enough, and she and I organized the programs—stacks on both tables nearest the doors. There were other materials she again fetched from somewhere in the auditorium—general brochures about the college in general and the nursing program specifically. Just as we were finishing up, Jenna and a male student arrived pushing two carts. One was full of platters of meats, cheeses, crackers, and fruit. The other had beverages—big containers of coffee, tea, and water, as well as bottles of champagne.

Jenna said, “You can’t put all this stuff on the whole table.”

Piper asked, “What do you mean?”

“You’re only s’posed to use up half the table on both sides. We have to use the rest for all this stuff.”

Piper and I quickly condensed the programs and other materials so that Jenna could use the rest of the space, and I tried not to be irritated that she was being bossy, especially after slacking off the entire afternoon. The young man left again with one of the empty carts, bringing back more—paper plates, napkins, cups, utensils, and the like. We were finishing up just as people began arriving.

As if she sensed her audience, Dr. R. emerged from the auditorium, asking us to prop the doors open. Her expression—all smiles—was strange, a sight rarely seen in her natural habitat and I tried not to let it weird me out.

When we opened the doors to the auditorium, a classical melody poured out from that space, possibly the first time the new speakers had ever been used. I’d heard the—was it a symphony?—musical piece before, but I didn’t know what it was. The only music education I’d had was in elementary school, so I was pretty much clueless.

Still…the strains of the music coming from the auditorium moved me. It was haunting and powerful and I wondered why people today didn’t make music like that. This composition produced feelings in me that I could barely explain.

As the wealthy citizens of Winchester began filtering in, I continued stepping back so I was closer to the wall. I didn’t understand rich people and the only thing I knew about them was that they had unchecked power. That was why my father, who’d only wanted to protect our town and the environment, had become a pariah. Today I doubted many people my age even remembered why, much like Piper—they only knew we were the undesirables. My dad had always said to give it time and it would pass, but being rejected by most people was all I’d ever known. I understood it could be different—and that was why I planned to get out, and I’d take my father with me.

“Hello, Anna.”

It took everything in me to stop from gasping. There was only one person who ever called me Anna, and that was Mr. Sherwood, my history professor from last fall. Turning my back to the auditorium, I faced him. “Class over?”

“No. I haven’t had classes since this morning. I just wanted to see what the hubbub was all about.”

Had he been living under a rock all summer? “Tonight is the dedication of the—”

---