All Fall Down Read online

  “Trish,” he muttered so softly she wasn’t sure she’d heard him.

  At the sound of her mother’s name, Sunny’s soothing fingers stopped. “Chris?”

  Every part of him touching her tensed and tightened.

  “Get up,” he barked, pushing at the same time as he tried to stand. “Jesus Christ. Sunny, what the hell?”

  She nearly tumbled off his lap, but caught herself. Her feet tangled in the hem of her nightgown, but she managed to keep herself upright as she tugged it free. Her heart pounded. Her head, too. She moved away from him, uncertain and ashamed. Again.

  “I’m sorry,” Chris said before Sunny could say anything. “I was…dreaming. But I shouldn’t have… What were you doing?”

  “I was thirsty. I came to get a drink of water. You sounded like you were talking. I came in to see what you were doing.” Every sentence slipped from her mouth in a soft, unassuming tone. She waited to see if he’d call out against her lie, but he didn’t. “Are you okay, Chris?”

  “You should…” She heard the click of something in his throat when he swallowed. “You should call me Dad. I’m your father.”

  Would that make what had just happened better or worse?

  “Are you okay…Dad?”

  “I’m fine. I was having a nightmare, that’s all. I’m… I was dreaming.”

  Silence.

  “You should go back to bed,” Chris said.

  She wanted to tell him it was okay, that nothing had happened that couldn’t be forgotten, but even in the dimly lit room she could see he wasn’t looking at her. She wasn’t sure he would’ve taken it as comfort, anyway. When she got to the doorway, his voice made her pause.

  “You look so much like her.” The words sounded as if they hurt him to say.

  She hoped they did, because they really hurt to hear.

  Chapter 22

  Rod hadn’t been happy about Liesel leaving work early, but after the incident with the stove she didn’t want to leave Sunny home with the kids all day long by themselves. It had been a little tricky—Liesel didn’t want to insult her husband’s daughter, but on the other hand it was very clear that even though Sunny’d lived a life that should’ve made her as much of an adult as someone years older, she was still very much a child. So Liesel had told Rod she’d be working from home in the afternoons until further notice, had dealt with the fallout, and now pulled into the driveway with her trunk full of groceries. At least this time there wasn’t any smoke in the garage when she opened the door. That had to be something, anyway.

  Laden with plastic grocery bags, Liesel called Sunny’s name as she headed down the hall from the laundry room toward the kitchen. She stopped, caught short. Not like yesterday when she’d come home to find her oven on fire. That had been panic inducing. What greeted her now made her instantly, ridiculously angry.

  Every cupboard, every drawer hung open. Pots and pans taken down from their usual place on the pot rack hanging over the kitchen island were piled high on one side of the double sink. The dishwasher emitted a steady, low thudding noise that meant something had been placed incorrectly so that the water spray moved whatever it was with every spurt.

  Liesel dropped the bags from her hands. They hit the tile floor with a crash, spilling several cans of chicken noodle soup, which rolled across the floor. One bag split, tossing a tube of Pringles chips, and Liesel muttered a curse. Now the chips would be crumbled.

  “Sunny!”

  “Liesel,” Sunny said from her place at the counter. “Let me help you with your bags.”

  “What’s going on in here?” Liesel watched as Sunny knelt in front of her to gather up the plastic bags and take them to the island to unpack. “What are you doing?”

  Sunny looked at Liesel over her shoulder. “I thought that since I made such a mess yesterday it would be my job to clean it up. There was a lot of smoke. And dust,” she added.

  Liesel frowned. She cleaned as often as seemed necessary so as not to live like pigs, and had a cleaning woman come in twice a year to handle the major stuff. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d dusted. Then again, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d burnt a chicken into charcoal, either.

  Liesel looked around her formerly, if not immaculate, at least approximately neat, kitchen. “You’ve torn everything apart.”

  Sunny set a can of baked beans on the counter next to the soup she’d picked up. “The only way to do the best job is to start from the beginning.”

  Liesel shook her head, drawing in a small breath, then another. One at a time, trying not to be too angry. “It’s just that…surely you could’ve cleaned things one at a time. Without making so much of a mess.”

  Sunny frowned. “I thought I was helping. I know I can’t cook, Liesel. I mean, I never had to before. But I can clean. I’m good at cleaning.”

  “It’s not that.” Liesel looked around, noticing the cupboards Sunny had already been through. The mismatched plastic containers left over from Chinese takeout and packaged deli meat had been stacked neatly, lids replaced so that each container had one. Liesel was used to having to catch a tumble of plastic storage ware every time she opened the cupboard, but now there was actually extra space.

  “I put all the ones that didn’t match on the table so you could recycle them,” Sunny said when she saw Liesel looking.

  “Sunny…” Liesel sighed. “Thank you. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

  Now that she could really take a look around, she could see that all the places Sunny’d cleaned were clear of smoke, dust and clutter. In better shape than they’d been before the fire. Even the fridge had been wiped down and the magnets rearranged in neat rows.

  “Do you have more groceries to bring in?”

  Liesel looked at Sunny. “Oh. Yeah. Can you help me?”

  “Sure.” Sunny smiled, no sign she’d taken any of Liesel’s bad mood to heart.

  “Where are the kids?”

  “Bliss is sleeping. Happy and Peace are supposed to be napping, too, though Happy is probably reading,” Sunny answered as she followed Liesel out through the garage and toward the car.

  “Reading?” Liesel stopped at the trunk, then forced herself to grab another few bags to cover her surprise. “He’s so young.”

  “It’s important to be able to read so we can understand the letters.” Sunny grabbed a few bags in each hand and hung back, waiting for Liesel to go first.

  “What letters?”

  Sunny followed Liesel back toward the kitchen. “The Superior letters. They’re what Papa wrote so that all his children could know his words even when he was unable to say them. Or so if we’re away from the family, we can have them.”

  Liesel concentrated carefully on putting out everything she’d bought at the store. Haphazard, she realized now, setting a can of black beans next to a jar of artichoke hearts. She’d pushed her cart quickly up and down the aisles, unable to remember what she had at home or what she needed, just anxious to get back before something went wrong. She thought about the pamphlet she’d taken once from that wide-eyed, scrawny boy one long-ago summer.

  “I thought you didn’t leave the family.” Liesel pulled a loaf of French bread in a paper sleeve from one bag and put it on the counter.

  Sunny shrugged. “Oh…I didn’t. Papa wanted his true sons to have their own homes someday, because of course it’s important for children to eventually leave their parents, when it’s time.”

  “But so many of you all lived together, didn’t you?”

  Sunny must’ve thoroughly acquainted herself with the location of everything in the kitchen, because she moved effortlessly from the counter to put away what she unpacked from the bags. Well, most things. Liesel noticed that the girl studied the labels of every package b