Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

Helen

The sprinklers on the lawn are on. I stay away from the window because I know who and what I would see if I look out. Julie sits on a stool in my kitchen staring at the garden in the back yard. I walk into the kitchen and pour some juice into her glass. She takes a sip of the drink and munches her pancake.

"It tastes so good," she says, nodding with her mouth stuffed. With a smile, I take my plate of pancakes and the rest of the juice and walk to a table in the living room, urging her to follow me. She sits opposite me at the table with bar stools. With the way I called her, she must have felt something was wrong with me. Truly, something had been. Everything had been wrong till David came over last night.

As I take a bite of my pancake, I wonder if I should tell Julie about last night— about Philip, about David. She might not grasp what was going on within me. Her eyes float to the window and then back to me. She points at the window. "So that's my brother wor