A family of three sits at a dinner table located to the right of a slightly messy kitchen. A little girl with both arms on the table, gushes about the play date she had yesterday with her best friend. She suddenly pulls her arms back.
“Did ya know? Annie told me that it is not polite to have your elbows on the table. She punched me in the arm every time I ax-adently forget.”
“Really? What a mean little girl. Dear, can you pass me the salt, please?”
“No, she’s not being mean! She is teaching me table manners.” Taylor watched her dad find the salt behind his salad bowl and pass it over to her mother. “Did ya know that you’re suppose-da pass the salt and pepper together? It’s because they’re married.” She said it like she had read it in a newspaper article that had just come out that day, like most children do when they tell their parents what they had just learned.
“Speaking of Annie, David. Her mother, Ellen, keeps their house looking like she is afraid a magazine photographer is going to show up at any minute.”
“What does that mean?” Taylor looked up from her mashed potatoes, eyebrows knitted together and a frown pulling down the corners of her mouth. An expression she had learned from her father.
“It means that she keep their house really clean, sweetheart. She stays home all day and just manicures her house, David.” The pointed comment was not wasted on the stay at home dad. He chuckled, amused.

Annie and Taylor tried to make it a tradition of hanging out together on Fridays and would walk to one or the other’s house after school. This Friday they had headed towards Annie’s house. As you walked up to the house you could just see the kitchen through the window next to the garage.
“Where’s your mom, Annie?” They could almost always determine if Annie’s mother was home before they started up the drive.
“She might be tired. She has been sleeping a lot lately.” She started to head for the front door.
Taylor followed curiously, steps slowing. “Aren’t we going through the garage?” She pointed to the key pad as they walked by.
“No, the garage door is loud. My dad gave me a key so I can get in through the front door. We have to be very quiet.” She jiggled with the lock a bit, still unfamiliar with the action.
Taylor reached out her hand in an offer to help. “Do you want me to-”
The door popped open just before Taylor finished. “No. I got it.”
Everything that could be seen from the entrance had a museum type quality. Everything was set up in a staged readiness of action. The dining room, located just to the right, was always set for an imaginary dinner party for the governor and his wife. The living room located to the left held expensive leather furniture, all pointed towards a fireplace with real wood logs that would never be used. No one has ever sat on the couch and enjoyed this room in its obvious beauty, not even the one who keeps the dust from landing on it.
The girls walked past both exhibits into the hall and made their way towards the kitchen completely ignoring the most direct path through the pristine dining room.
Taylor set her things down on the kitchen table. She looked towards the end of the hall. “I hope your mom feels better soon.”
Annie followed her gaze down the hall, worry etched on her face. “I’m going to go check on her.”
“Okay.” Taylor watched her walk down the hallway before looking around her. She was shocked to see that there were dirty dishes in the sink and a rag forgotten on the counter.

Taylor walked straight from the garage into the kitchen. “Oh! Hello, Mr. Miyasaki! I’m surprised to see you home so early.”
Frank Miyasaki had black hair that in the past few years had slowly been turning grey. Taylor had always thought that he and his wife looked interestingly good together. They were very opposite in both personalities and appearance. His dark hair and tan skin was always put together with a big smile or laugh. Ellen Miyasaki reminded Talyor of a 50s housewife. She never did wear a white dress and curl her blonde hair, but there was something in the way she carried herself that brought the image to mind.
“Oh! Hello, Taylor. It’s odd to be hearing that from you. Since when have you moved in?” They both laughed. Taylor placed her bag on the table, moving a cereal box and the mail out of the way. “How have you been doing? And where is Annie?”
“I’ve been doin’ fine. Annie went around back to feed the koi fish.” She noticed that Mr. Miyasaki had a cutting board and various vegetables out on the counter. “Do you need any help with that, Mr. Miyasaki?”
He chuckled. “I think I can handle this, I have been getting a lot of practice lately.”
“I bet, with Ms. Ellen gone.” Taylor fished out a pencil and some paper from her backpack. “By the way, Annie said that Ms. Ellen will be coming back today, I can’t wait to see her.”
“Yes, the doctors said that she might be coming home but we don’t know what time.” Taylor was puzzled by his expression but before she could make it out it changed. “Are you finishing up some homework there, Taylor?”
“Yeah. I told my parents we would get this done before watching that movie tonight. Annie got it done super quick in class but it’s taking me forever.”
“I now see why you were so eager to help out. Trying to get out of doing something, Taylor?”
“I just thought, you know, maybe a little break…”
“Right, of course.” He smiled.
The telephone went off, and Mr. Miyasaki rushed to answer it.
“Hello?... Yes… Oh! I’m glad to hea-...” He broke off, his original smile gone. He was quiet for a long time listening to the phone. Taylor could just hear a faint murmur of the voice on the other end of the receiver. The longer the murmur went on the heavier the room became. Taylor felt suddenly uncomfortable, as if she had walked in on a very personal conversation. She looked back towards the door and wondered if she should leave but she couldn’t think of any place to go. The murmur stopped. Mr. Miyasaki took a second to respond. “Oh. Really?... Wh-…” His voice was strained, he cleared his throat. Annie had just walked in from the backyard. “Of course, of course… If that is what you want… I lov-…” The murmur cut him off abruptly, sharp in tone. “Al-alright, good bye.” He set the receiver down slowly.
“Was that mom, dad? What did she say?” She had not yet felt the atmosphere of the room that Taylor was longing to escape from. Her smile was big and hopeful.
Her dad went back to chopping up the onion that he had lined up for the sauce. “She said that she is out of the hospital…”
Her face lit up with the news she had been waiting for all day. “Oh! That’s fantastic! When are we-“
“She said she had her sister pick her up, and that-,” He wouldn’t look her in the eyes. “She won’t be coming home for a while.”
“Oh.” Annie stood in silence her face placid and staring at the onion her father was cutting much too slowly. Taylor, even with being caught up with her newfound wish to have the ability to disappear, wondered why her friend didn’t sound more surprised. Mr. Miyasaki had said that last sentence with a finality that made “a while” sound like forever. “Oh…”
A few very long seconds were counted out by the white clock. Mr. Miyasaki dumped in the onion and stirred the sauce on the stove absent mindedly. Taylor smelled the rolls burning and wondered why Mr. Miyasaki didn’t take them out of the oven.
Annie suddenly looked up with a surprising determination. “I’m going to call her back.”
It took her a second to cross the room to where the phone was but her father blocked her just before she reached out for the receiver.
“No.” Annie saw the pain in his face but refused to acknowledge it.
“What do you mean no? She is my mother!” She sounded desperate, like that of a child. “I haven’t heard her voice in 2 months.” Her calm had been replaced by tears.
Annie was not one to be quick to tears. Taylor could tell this argument had happened before, and she knew who had won it.
Mr. Miyasaki looked over at Taylor who immediately pretended to find the surface area of a cube. He lowered his voice in an effort to have her lower hers. “Annie, your friend is here…”

It wasn’t successful. “I don’t care! Just let me call her!” She launched herself towards the phone. He held her back. “Why?! Why won’t you let me?!” Anger. “She is my mother! She is my mother!” Childish despair.
“Annie! Calm down!” She wouldn’t stop trying to get at the phone. His words were lost on his daughter’s irrational need.
“Why!? Why!? Why can’t I call her!?” Her tears made her sound hysterical, the sound of her cries escalating higher and higher.
She had started kicking and flailing her arms trying to get away. “Annie!”
“Why!?” She shouted back louder, still fighting towards the phone.
“She doesn’t want you to!”
She stopped mid strike. She looked confused, not able to comprehend what had been said. “Wha… What do you mean?” Her words came out slow. “She’s my, she’s my mot-“
“She says that she doesn’t want us to call her again.” His eyes were cast down. He let go of her arms and they dropped loosely to her sides. His voice was strained and slow. “She says… that she… that she doesn’t want us… to call…” He slumped against the sink. He had tried to hold back this feeling of defeat until he could be alone. He couldn’t do that now.
Annie stared at the phone in disbelief. When she gained back some of her senses she took her father’s arm and led him to the table.
Taylor jumped up quickly. The rolls had begun to smoke and the sauce had boiled over.

“Could you please pass me the salt?” Taylor’s dad pointed to the salt that Taylor had just finished using on her own baked potato.
She picked up both the salt and pepper and passed them together. “And the pepper. Don’t forget they’re married!”
“Not anymore.” Her parents quietly chuckled.
Taylor stared down at her plate. “That’s terrible.”