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She looked up at him, the very picture of innocence. "You were?"
"You know I was."
"How would I know that? In normal communication,
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one looks at the person to whom they're talking. I thought perhaps you were addressing the painted flowers."
"Damn it, Amarylis?"
"That's a problem as well."
Jack was so goddamn confused, he didn't know what to do. His hands balled into frustrated fists. "What?"
"You called me Amarylis."
"Yeah."
"So naturally I assumed you
were speaking to the flowers. I am Lissa. From now on I refuse to answer to anything else." She grinned. "Unless you want to call me honeybun or sweetie pie."
Jack stared at her in disbelief, then spun away from her innocent eyes and smiling mouth. He strode to the dresser and grabbed a plate. Wedging it under his arm, he yanked the bottom drawer open.
It was empty.
He turned back toward her. "Where's the silverware?"
She moved the chicken to a small platter, carefully arranged the potatoes in a ring around it, and set the food on the table. "I'm not sure."
He went to the table and sat down hard. "You're not sure where the silverware is? It hasn't moved in years." She sat down across from him, steepled her fingers, and rested her chin on her fingertips. A challenging smile sparkled in her eyes and curved her full lips. "That's right." "I'll get you some, Daddy; it's in?" "Your daddy can get his own silverware, Savannah," Lissa said in a matter-of-fact voice that brooked no argument.
Jack shot a quick glance toward the living room. The girls were standing side by side in front of the sofa, staring at him. They both looked ready to dive beneath the sofa at a moment's notice.
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He sighed tiredly, suddenly exhausted by everything. The changes, the smiles, the laughter. Everything.
"Okay, Lissa, what's going on?"
"The girls and I were playing hide-and-seek. We were sure you'd want to join in."
He snorted at the obvious lie. "Well, I don't. So now that the game is over, let's eat."
"Why would you think that?"
He frowned. A headache flared behind his eyes. "Think what?"
"That the game's over."
He glanced at the girls again, then back at his wife. "Who's hiding now ... Caleb?"
She smiled. "We weren't hiding people. We were hiding things."
Jack knew he shouldn't ask. "What things?" Her smile grew into a grin. "The silverware." Jack's first reaction was to explode. The last thing he needed at the end of a hard day was a game of hide-and-seek for the silverware.
He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbed his suddenly throbbing temples, and concentrated on remaining calm. He refused to give her the satisfaction of making him angry. "Jack?" she said in a taunting, singsongy voice. "Are you all right?"
