Monday

Morning.

Lorelei sets out three bowls. Cereal, milk, a spoon each. She wipes the tabl§e twice though it's already clean. She wants things to look right, to hold.

Theo comes down in his shirt and tie, face already closed for the day. He kisses her cheek without looking. He folds open the newspaper. His voice is careful when he says, Morning.

Anais arrives barefoot, hair unbrushed, already sulking. She bangs the spoon against the bowl.

"I'm not brushing my teeth," she announces.
"You are," Theo replies, steady but tired.
"Not yet," Lorelei interrupts, softer. "Eat first."

They eat in silence, except for the clink of spoon against enamel.

When Lorelei leaves the house, she carries a shopping list in her bag. She doesn't buy what's on it. She walks past the shops that sell bread and soap. She walks into another kind, velvet trays under bright lights, glass counters that reflect her face in three pieces. She asks to try on a necklace. She does.

She leaves with her bag just as light as before. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Theo works in an office of glass. He hates the glass. At lunch he walks down an alley where no one follows. He lifts a crate with another man, plain-faced. He sets it down. His hands stay steady. That is his gift.

He leaves with his hands clean just as it had been before.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

After school, Anais draws on the inside of the wardrobe. A horse with too many legs. A house with no door. She hides under the bed when she hears the key turn, because she likes to be found.

"Where's my girl?" Lorelei calls, her voice bright.

"Invisible!" Anais yells.

Lorelei lifts the bed skirt. They pretend surprise.

By evening, the house is tidy again. Pasta for dinner, sauce from a jar

What's wrong with Anais?

Theo nods in the right places. Lorelei laughs at the right moments.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Pasta for dinner, sauce from a jar.

Anais sulks over her plate, pushing food to the edges. "It's cold," she says though it isn't. She chews with her mouth open, daring one of them to tell her to stop. Lorelei twirls her fork, swallows quickly, pretends not to notice. Theo watches, jaw tight, then nods as if agreeing with something only he can hear.

"What's wrong with Anais?" Lorelei asks at last, her voice too light.

"Nothing," Theo says. "She's a child."

"She bites the teachers."

Theo shrugs. "She'll grow out of it."

Anais kicks the leg of the table, once, hard enough to shake the glasses. "I don't want to grow out of it," she says.

Nobody answers.

Later, dishes stacked, lights dimmed, Lorelei carries the laundry basket upstairs. Theo lingers in the kitchen, staring at the streak on the floor that looks like sauce but isn't. He wipes it with a cloth, once, twice, until the wood shows clean.

Upstairs, Anais is supposed to be in bed. Instead she sits cross-legged on the floor, scribbling over her homework. The pencil tears through the page. Lorelei takes the sheet gently, smooths the rip, presses it flat as if that could undo it.

"You need to sleep," she says.

Anais looks up, eyes wide, unblinking. "What do you do when I'm asleep?"

Lorelei smiles. "Nothing. We're boring."

Anais studies her mother's face, searching for the lie. Then she crawls under the covers without a word.

When the house is finally quiet, Lorelei and Theo don't sit together. She goes down into the cellar, pretending to look for winter blankets. He goes out to the shed, opening drawers, checking blades, oiling tools that don't need it. They move in different rooms, careful not to cross paths.

Lorelei leaves the cellar with a handful of patchwork blankets, slight bits of cotton protruding out from the ends.

"Theo! I need some help with hauling these over to Mindy!" Lorelei yells, but it isn't a yell. A loud but soft voice.

Theo mutters something under his breath and shifts towards the door of the cellar, he's standing at the doorway as his wife passes the blankets towards his frigid cold hands.

"Put them in front of the main door, okay?" Lorelei says.

Theo nods.