Chapter 24: Leave a Message

Nobody at the table moved.

Effie sat very straight, with her hands folded in her lap, and looked at Rhett.

"Daddy," she said, loudly. "Please pass the toast."

The word landed in the kitchen and stayed.

Edith put down her butter knife.

Rhett stood by the doorway with his hand on the frame, and I watched him try to move his mouth and fail.

"It's the black one," Effie added helpfully. "Edith made it. It's still good."

"I made it on purpose," Edith said. "A burnt edge builds character."

Rhett crossed the kitchen and picked up the plate.

His hand shook, a little.

He set the plate in front of her, and she took a slice and bit it and made a face.

"It's bad," she announced. "But I like it."

Then she looked at him, and her whole face changed.

"Are you crying, Daddy?"

"No," Rhett said.

"You are."

"Maybe a little."

"It's okay." She patted his arm with a buttery hand. "Mama cries at commercials."

Edith made a noise that might have been a cough.

I put my hand over my mouth and laughed until I couldn't see.

That afternoon the rain came in over the orchard.

Rhett went down to the yard to meet with the drivers, because somebody had to, and Edith went to lie down with the newspaper.

Effie and I sat on the floor of the front hall with a box of crayons.

On the corkboard above the hall table, where Edith kept the seed catalogs and the church schedule, I had pinned the yellow motel note that morning.

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