Chapter 2

Feeling a little more like herself after cleaning up, Eliza took her time descending the narrow turn of the century farmhouse staircase.  Her slender fingers absent-mindedly played with a small section of torn wallpaper as she stopped for a moment to listen to the faint words of her parents’ as they floated up toward her. They were whispering, but in a loud, argumentative way that made their words clear to someone with the abnormally good hearing that she possessed.

“We need to tell her,” her father hissed.

“I don’t know, Arthur,” her mother adamantly replied.  “It could upset her.  Don’t you think having that nice doctor Rosenthal die and losing her job has upset her enough? She was very fond of that man and her work. We both know that moving home wasn’t something she wanted to do.  Besides, we have nothing to prove it’s true.  It skipped you. Perhaps it skipped her too.”

“She’s older now. If she’s doing it again, we need to tell her,” her father insisted.

“No! Don’t do anything foolish,” her mother vehemently spat.  “Those are just speculation and rumors.  You know how much Ruth loves to spread them.  Wait to see what Doctor Blair has to say.”

Curiosity urged Eliza down the rest of the steps and into the kitchen.

“Tell me what?” she asked as she grabbed a mug from the cup tree that was on the counter  next to the coffee maker and filled it with the rich, aromatic liquid.

“What?” her mother asked with faux innocence.

“I heard you two arguing about telling me something,” she continued.

Her parents looked at each other long and hard before her father heaved a sigh and said, “You were mistaken. It was your aunt Ruth we were discussing.  She’s eating wrong again and has the gout.”

“Why would you argue about that,” Eliza asked with surprise, “and what would Dr. Blair do about it? She’s a therapist, not a general doctor.”

Her father filled his lungs with air as he continued his lie with, “Viviane and Ruth disagree on her diet.  Your mother wants to talk to Dr. Blair about the best way to approach her.”

Since Dr. Blair was the therapist who they’d sent her to when she was young and sleep walking, it made sense that her mother would trust what the woman had to say.

“I think I’m sleepwalking again,” Eliza blurted as she sat in an empty chair at the table, propped her elbows on its surface and held the mug of coffee to her lips with both hands.

“Why?” Vivian asked.  “What caused that to start back up?”

Having no reply, Eliza shrugged and gulped down an unwise amount of the hot liquid.  Tears welled up in her eyes as the burning sensation traveled down her esophagus.

Seeing her daughter’s condition, Vivian lept from her chair and raced to the sink.  Looking over her shoulder at her husband as she raced to her daughter’s side to present the cool water, she scolded, “I told you that coffee pot makes it too hot!” 

“It’s the latest and the greatest…” Arthur began.

“All we needed was a simple coffee maker,” Viviane complained.  “I’d just as soon go back to using the French press.  That contraption’s dangerous.”

Grateful to have the focus off her mysterious naked rendezvous in the wild, Eliza joined into the conversation. “It’s a nice coffee maker, pop.  I like my coffee hot like this.  I just didn’t put enough cream in it to cool it down just a bit.  Don’t get rid of it.”

Lifting his chin as he addressed his wife, Arthur defiantly said, “I have no intention of it.”

“Well, I’m going back to the French press,” Viviane insisted.

“Do as you wish,” Arthur grumbled.  Then, looking at Eliza, he asked, “Are you hungry?  The hens are laying good eggs these days.  There’s still a few scrambled in that pan.”

Since she normally woke up ravenous, Eliza was surprised to realize that she actually felt full.  Not wanting to bring any more attention to her that might renew their questions about where she’d been and why, she smiled and made her way to the stove.  Lifting the cover off the fry pan, she lowered her face over the eggs and sniffed long and deep.  They smelled especially delicious that morning.

“Did you do something different with them?” she asked.  “They smell great.”

Arthur grinned as he proudly said,  “I think it’s the new food I switched them to.”