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I was actually a little proud of myself.
Somehow, I felt I had escaped telling an out-and-out terrible lie. As silly as it might sound to someone else, I felt Karen would be proud of me, and I was happy
about it.
"Good. Let's go get some pizza," he declared,
and we were off.
I felt guilty about having a good time with my
father at dinner while Karen sat upstairs in the
darkness trying to keep as quiet as she could. Of
course, she didn't have to worry until my mother or
we were home, but still, she had to eat leftovers and
had to eat by herself. I wondered how I could get to
see her. Since my mother would be on duty into the
evening and then sleep late in the morning, I would
have to leave the house for school before I could get
up to the attic. My first opportunity wouldn't be until
after school.
Daddy decided that at dinner, we would not talk
about Karen and what was going on, but he did talk
about what he now thought was my need to get myself
more involved with traditional school activities. "You need to make more friends. You could
join the chorus. You sing so well, Zipporah. I'm sure
they'll want you. And what about drama club? I was
in drama club, you know," he said, and told me about
the plays he had been in and the parts he had acted. I
had never known that.
It occurred to me that we get to know even the
people we love in little ways over a long period of
time. Just because someone is your father or your
mother doesn't mean you know everything about him
or her. Everyone reveals things about himself or
