My Dearest Friend by Nancy Thayer Read Free Book Online

place at the table and watched as Alexandra picked up the teapot with both hands, and suddenly quiet with effort and concentration, began to pour herself a cup of tea. She got the spout near enough to the mug that some of the tea actually went in, but more of it flowed down the side of the mug, across the table, and in a thin brown stream from the table onto the floor.
    Alexandra kept on pouring. Daphne looked at Carey Ann.
    “Lexi spill,” Carey Ann said, smiling. “Let Mommy help.” She reached for the teapot.
    “No! Me!”
Alexandra screamed, jerking the teapot away, glaring at her mother with rage.
    Carey Ann withdrew her hand. She sat watching until Alexandra had emptied the pot. All the tea things and the plates and napkins were swimming in a sea of liquid that now dripped down on the side of the table and also in the middle where the two oak leaves met.
    Carey Ann looked up at Daphne. “The books say children learn faster if you don’t interfere,” she said, almost meekly. “And Alexandra is, you know, so bright. We think she might be a
gifted child.
”
    The gifted child had dripping elbows and a wet shirt from leaning on the table in the tea. She set the pot down, and kneeling on the chair, picked up her cup and drank. She smiled, a radiant smile. “Good,” she pronounced.
    “Aren’t you a good girl!” Carey Ann said. Then she sighed and took a sip of her own tea.
    Now, am I getting old or what?, Daphne thought, for it bothered her to sit there astea still spilled over the edge of the table and made puddles on the floor. Well, God, it would all wipe up with paper towels. But the floor in this old kitchen slanted slightly downward in one direction; if she didn’t stop it now, all the tea would end up in a puddle underneath the refrigerator.
    “Excuse me,” Daphne said. She rose and sopped up the mess with paper towels.
    Alexandra began to bang her spoon on her mug. Daphne looked up from the floor to see the little girl beam a seraphic smile at her mother.
“Bang!”
she said merrily, delighted.
    “Yes, bang,” Carey Ann said, not so merrily. “Lexi want cake?”
    But Lexi didn’t want cake. She wanted to bang her spoon on her mug, and she continued to as Daphne duck-walked on her haunches around her kitchen floor, wiping up the tea. Alexandra found a rhythm and got into it: BANG BANG BANG ! BANG BANG BANG! BANG BANG BANG! The mug would surely break. Daphne rose, put the towels in the trash, and sat down at the kitchen table. She was surprised not to see chips of china flying around the table. I didn’t realize how old I’ve gotten, she thought. This is driving me crazy.
    “Jack told me you work at the college,” Carey Ann said, smiling, her voice raised to carry across her daughter’s noise.
    “Yes,” Daphne said. “In the history department. I’m a secretary. I’ve been there for fourteen years now.”
    “You must like it,” Carey Ann said.
    “Well, yes,” Daphne answered. “I suppose. You see, I was divorced when my daughter was two, and I had to have some kind of job to support us both, and the people in the history department were friends—some of them—and it worked out all right. And then Cynthia grew older and all her friends were here, and the school system is so excellent, it seemed best for her if I stayed in the town. Although it’s not what I ever envisioned myself doing when I was younger. Being a secretary. And now that I’m older …”
    Daphne let her voice trail away. It was just too difficult to make herself heard over Alexandra’s banging, especially since the little girl had miraculously managed to increase the volume. And now she was shouting,
“Bang, bang, bang!”
as she pounded, obviously unhappy that her mother’s attention was focused elsewhere for a few minutes. Exasperated, Daphne pointedly looked at the little girl, then looked at Carey Ann.
    Carey Ann responded by looking miserable. But she leaned over to her daughter. “Alexandra,” she said