whole world seems to be made out of grass and sky. The little boy plays a harmonica. His sister has her sketchbook open. The father and Sarah joke shyly with one another. The dog runs back and forth over the picnic lunch and everyone yells at him and laughs.
This must be their perfect time. Hang onto it, Cosmo would say. Make a life preserver.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
On Wednesday when we get home, Daddy is watching for us at the door.
âI donât know why you kids canât stick closer to home,â he says, eyeing the rolled-up piece of paper Livvy has squashed flat on the way home from the art gallery. âYouâre always wanting to go somewhere. And guess whatâwe are.â He is trying to keep back a smile. I can see the edges of his lips quivering.
âWhere? Where?â Livvy has forgotten how tired she is from the walk home and is dancing from foot to foot.
âGuess,â Daddy says.
âDisneyland!â Livvy shrieks. âI want to go to Disneyland and see Pocahontas.â
âWell, itâs not quite Disneyland.â Daddy laughs a thin laugh. âMayfair Park. What do you think of that? Myron Perth is home for a couple of days and wants to take Mrs. Perth on a little outing tomorrow and said for us all to come along.â
I feel like someone has opened a trap door and I am falling, without warning, everything gone from under my feet.
âHow long will we be gone?â My voice comes out as a little squeak. âI mean, when will we be going? And coming back?â
Daddy looks at me sideways. âI donât know. Around noon, I guess. We can have lunch down there. Why are you interested in time all of a sudden?â
âOh, no reason. Just wondered.â
âWell, it doesnât really matter, does it?â Daddy backs toward the sofa. âItâs summer holidays. If weâre late it wonât be like you have to get up and go to school the next day.â
âGoodee.â Livvy is jumping like a kangaroo around the living room. âWe get to go to the park,â she chants, tossing her flattened paper into a corner, just missing Grandmaâs ashtray. âDoes it have a playground with a curly slide?â
âIt has a gigantic playground.â Daddy sinks back into his sofa. He is looking at me, waiting for me to be happy and excited. âI said weâd bring the hot dogs. You donât mind nipping down to the store, do you, hon? We got enough for weenies and buns but not a cab. MaybeLivvyâll go along and keep you company.â
âMe tired. Donât want to walk,â Livvy whines.
âIts okay. Iâll go,â I say. âI donât mind.â
âGet me some cigarettes, Barbara.â Grandmaâs walker squeaks through the kitchen doorway. âIâm getting low.â
The feeling is still in my stomach as I head for Cosmoâs apartment. With everything inside me fallen, my feet move heavily up the steps to the landing. When I knock, there is no answer. As I begin to go back down the stairs, though, I see him coming down the street, moving lazily along on Mehitabel, singing as he goes. As he reaches the gate, he finishes the songâa little whispery song about an octopusâs garden in the sea.
âBarbara.â His eyes widen with surprise. âDidnât expect to find you on my doorstep. Something the matter?â
âTomorrowâ¦â I start to tell him and then my voice stops and wonât go on.
âHey, catch your breath.â He gestures toward the bench by the patio table. âClose your eyes and relax a minute.â
I close my eyes and spots dance around in thesudden black. The air in my chest seems to be beating its way upward and I shudder.
âOkay?â I feel Cosmoâs long fingers on my arm.
âTomorrowâs ruined. I canât come tomorrow.â
âHey.â Cosmoâs fingers slip down into my hand. âItâs okay.
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