fastening the clasp. I ran my hand over it and smiled at how wonderful it made me feel to have both my parents close to my heart, always.
Our dinner was great fun. The chef tossed the food in the air and did wonders with his knives. He built a volcano out of onions and it puffed with a small explosion that brought cheers and applause. Afterward, the restaurant brought out a small birthday cake for me with seven candles, and everyone, including waiters and waitresses, sang "Happy Birthday" to me. Even Ian sang, and loudly, too. I thought it had been the best birthday party I had ever had. Maybe if Grandmother Emma had come, she would have been pleasantly surprised. I thought.
On the way home Daddy wanted to stop at his supermarket to check on the night floor manager. The market was open twenty-four hours and he had three floor managers now for three different shifts. We were going to wait in the car, but he took so long. Mama act out and went in to see what was happening. When she came out with him, she didn't look happy anymore.
They both got into the car without speaking.
"When did you hire her?" Mama asked as Daddy pulled away from the market.
"Just a few weeks ago," he said.
"What qualifies her to be the manager of a supermarket, Christopher?"
"She's had a great deal of experience in the business world. After she left Bethlehem, she ran a department store in Philadelphia for nearly a year."
"And why did she leave Philadelphia? Was she fired?"
"No, no. She hated living in the city. Why are you so disturbed about it?"
Mama looked at him, looked straight ahead and then out the side window. I didn't think she would say anything else. Both Ian and I were fixed on each and every word.
"You have to be kidding," she finally said.
Daddy was quiet until we drew closer to Grandmother Emma's house. Then he turned to Mama and said, "It's just business, nothing else. Caroline. Don't read anything into it."
"I don't care," Mama said. "Do what you want." She turned away, but I could see she was wiping some tears before they could make much of an appearance.
What had happened to make her cry?
Grandmother Emma was up in her bedroom by the time we arrived. The house was very quiet and Mama didn't look like she cared to say another word to anyone. We all went upstairs. Shortly afterward, Mama came in to wish me a happy birthday one more time. I was already in my pajamas and crawling into my bed, still thinking about how sad she had become after we had stopped at the supermarket.
"Why were you crying in the car?" I asked her.
"Adult talk, honey. Don't worry about it," she said. "Happy birthday and many, many more." She kissed my cheek, fixed the blanket, and left, switching off my light.
I really wasn't tired. I thought I would be, but my mind wouldn't stop twirling and spinning, thinking about the events of the whole exhausting day. I remembered my present from Ian and got out of bed to take it out of the toy chest. Then I went back to bed, switched on my night lamp, and slowly turned the pages. The girl in the book was older than I was. She had just had her twelfth birthday and had all sorts of questions about herself. I skipped ahead.
I couldn't help looking at the tadpoles. I wondered if females felt them swimming around inside them. How long did they swim? Where did they go if and when they missed the egg? There was so much to know. Would the book tell me everything?
A whole new world had suddenly opened in front of me just because things had happened in my body that weren't supposed to happen for a while yet, maybe for years and years.
Why did Grandmother Emma say I would break hearts and what did she mean when she told my parents to gird their loins? Would that be in the book? Why was Mama angry about a new floor manager? How could that be adult talk? Did Ian know the answers? How was I supposed to fall asleep ever again with all this bouncing about in my head?
I finally did though. The words and pictures grew fuzzier and fuzzier until I
Our dinner was great fun. The chef tossed the food in the air and did wonders with his knives. He built a volcano out of onions and it puffed with a small explosion that brought cheers and applause. Afterward, the restaurant brought out a small birthday cake for me with seven candles, and everyone, including waiters and waitresses, sang "Happy Birthday" to me. Even Ian sang, and loudly, too. I thought it had been the best birthday party I had ever had. Maybe if Grandmother Emma had come, she would have been pleasantly surprised. I thought.
On the way home Daddy wanted to stop at his supermarket to check on the night floor manager. The market was open twenty-four hours and he had three floor managers now for three different shifts. We were going to wait in the car, but he took so long. Mama act out and went in to see what was happening. When she came out with him, she didn't look happy anymore.
They both got into the car without speaking.
"When did you hire her?" Mama asked as Daddy pulled away from the market.
"Just a few weeks ago," he said.
"What qualifies her to be the manager of a supermarket, Christopher?"
"She's had a great deal of experience in the business world. After she left Bethlehem, she ran a department store in Philadelphia for nearly a year."
"And why did she leave Philadelphia? Was she fired?"
"No, no. She hated living in the city. Why are you so disturbed about it?"
Mama looked at him, looked straight ahead and then out the side window. I didn't think she would say anything else. Both Ian and I were fixed on each and every word.
"You have to be kidding," she finally said.
Daddy was quiet until we drew closer to Grandmother Emma's house. Then he turned to Mama and said, "It's just business, nothing else. Caroline. Don't read anything into it."
"I don't care," Mama said. "Do what you want." She turned away, but I could see she was wiping some tears before they could make much of an appearance.
What had happened to make her cry?
Grandmother Emma was up in her bedroom by the time we arrived. The house was very quiet and Mama didn't look like she cared to say another word to anyone. We all went upstairs. Shortly afterward, Mama came in to wish me a happy birthday one more time. I was already in my pajamas and crawling into my bed, still thinking about how sad she had become after we had stopped at the supermarket.
"Why were you crying in the car?" I asked her.
"Adult talk, honey. Don't worry about it," she said. "Happy birthday and many, many more." She kissed my cheek, fixed the blanket, and left, switching off my light.
I really wasn't tired. I thought I would be, but my mind wouldn't stop twirling and spinning, thinking about the events of the whole exhausting day. I remembered my present from Ian and got out of bed to take it out of the toy chest. Then I went back to bed, switched on my night lamp, and slowly turned the pages. The girl in the book was older than I was. She had just had her twelfth birthday and had all sorts of questions about herself. I skipped ahead.
I couldn't help looking at the tadpoles. I wondered if females felt them swimming around inside them. How long did they swim? Where did they go if and when they missed the egg? There was so much to know. Would the book tell me everything?
A whole new world had suddenly opened in front of me just because things had happened in my body that weren't supposed to happen for a while yet, maybe for years and years.
Why did Grandmother Emma say I would break hearts and what did she mean when she told my parents to gird their loins? Would that be in the book? Why was Mama angry about a new floor manager? How could that be adult talk? Did Ian know the answers? How was I supposed to fall asleep ever again with all this bouncing about in my head?
I finally did though. The words and pictures grew fuzzier and fuzzier until I
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