House of Wonder by Sarah Healy Read Free Book Online

flycatcher.” Her mother looked back at her. “See his tail? See how long it is?”
    Silla nodded. The slender feathers that extended past his back were twice as long as the bird himself. “Why is it like that?”
    â€œThat’s just how he was made,” answered her mother simply, smiling as she watched her daughter study the bird. “Mama’s gonna make him fly for you,” she said. Then she turned, and squinting into the sun and bringing her hands above her head, she clapped loudly. The bird lifted off instantly, his wings flapping, his glorious tail spreading into a long, elegant fork. “Go on home, Mr. Flycatcher!” she said, her words long and unhurried. Beaming, Silla watched the bird until she couldn’t see it any longer. Then she looked back at her mother, who was staring into the sky, her front teeth gently biting her lower lip.
    Her mother was still standing like that when her father’s bright red car approached. He peeled into the driveway and Silla watched him get out, slamming the door shut and marching over to her mother.
    â€œMartha,” he said, quiet and stern as he firmly took her upper arm. “What in God’s name are you doing out on the front lawn dressed like that?”
    Priscilla watched her mother look at him, as if she didn’t quite understand the question.
    â€œGoddammit, Martha,” she heard her father whisper, as he took a step toward the house, pulling her mother along with him. She saw her lean toward his leading hand, as if to relieve the pressure from his grip.
    â€œDaddy,” Silla begged in a voice that wasn’t loud enough to be heard, “we were just selling lemonade.” The screen door whined as he pulled it open, and he forced Silla’s mother in ahead of him. Inching closer, she heard her father’s raised voice. “I have to get a phone call at work about you sitting in the front yard with our daughter in nothing but your
slip
!?”
    â€œLee,” she heard her mother say. Her voice was always so innocent.
    â€œThis sort of thing has got to stop, Martha.” Even at four, Silla understood the gravity in her father’s voice. “One way or another it’s got to stop.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    Painkillers
    G ordo led the way down the empty sidewalk, trotting from Maggie’s house to our car. Though Maggie and I spent our days sitting no more than eight feet away from each other in the Wonderlux office, Rose and I along with Gordo were frequent guests at the Dyer home, where Maggie lived with her husband and sons.
    â€œWhy do we have to go?” whined Rose, continuing the slump-shouldered, slack-jawed protest that she had begun in the house.
    â€œYou’ve got a big day tomorrow, Rosie.” Duncan’s parents, who had made an admirable effort to stay involved in Rose’s life, were coming for a visit. And this time his mother, Miriam, had suggested that they take Rose to the Waldorf Hotel for thenight. Though I was anxious about letting her go, it was the sort of indulgence that I couldn’t easily afford, and therefore was grateful that Miriam and John were willing to provide for her. “You’re going to live it up with your gram and gramp in New York.”
    Rose looked up at me, and in the dark, her pale skin seemed lit from within. “Is my dad going to be at the hotel?” she asked. It was a question of curiosity, rather than desire. As if she was trying to understand with what and whom she should associate her father’s visits.
    â€œNo, monkey,” I said. “He won’t be back for a visit until Christmas.”
    Rose’s brows drew together as she tried to process the information. “How many days is that?”
    â€œAbout sixty,” I said. Rose had recently become fascinated with numbers, always wanting to know how many days until her birthday or since she last went swimming.
    â€œAnd how many days ago was the last