“How’s my precious Emily? My sweet baby girl. You’ve gotten so big, darling. So big.” She raised Emily’s arms up in the air dramatically. “Remember when we used to do that when you were little? You’re so tall. Must’ve grown at least a couple inches. Let me look at you.”
She stepped back, hands on Emily’s shoulders, and sized her up. “Absolutely. Two inches. For sure.” She turned to look at Bob, fluttering her dark eyelashes, and said, “She looks so cute. Just like her mama.” She tossed her hair back over her shoulder and giggled.
Bob flushed and instinctively put his arm around Dalila. “They’re both beautiful.”
“When do I get to see them again? You’ll probably have to come pick me up since I don’t have a car. Jeremy gave me a ride here today. He’s waiting outside. Too scared to come in. You know men.” She poked Dalila in the side. Dalila laughed nervously. Mother turned back to Emily and squeezed her cheeks in her hands. “I just had to come see my baby.”
Emily stepped back and reached out, grabbing my hand and pulling me close to her again.
“Hi, Elizabeth,” Mother said without glancing in my direction.
I stared at her, saying nothing, hoping she could read the hate in my eyes. Mother coughed and flipped her hair over her shoulders again. Too much time with us made her uncomfortable, and she’d reached her limit.
“I can’t wait for us to go on vacation, girls. I think we’re gonna go to Disneyland. I’m getting it all planned now.”
She might as well have been promising to take us to the moon. She put her arms around both of us, kissing the top of Emily’s head.
“Now, your mama loves you. Don’t you forget. I love you.”
She skipped off, turning around when she reached the garage to dramatically blow us a kiss good-bye. We never saw her again.
Later on that night, while we were supposed to be sleeping in our separate bedrooms, Emily crept into my bed like she did every night. We had our own rooms as part of the differentiation process that Lisa talked about all the time. It had something to do with separating us and treating us as individuals instead of grouping us together like one person. Lisa had suggested ways for Bob and Dalila to do it, and sleeping apart was one of them. We hated it. It didn’t matter, though, because nothing could separate us. Every night after they tucked each of us into our own beds, Emily would tiptoe through the “Jack and Jill” bathroom connecting our rooms and crawl into bed with me. Each morning the Rooths would find us wrapped up together.
“I hate Mother,” Emily whispered as she curled up next to me.
I sat up, shocked. It was the first time she’d said it. I said it all the time, but not her. She didn’t hate Mother like I did. She sat up next to me with an odd smile on her face. It was one I’d never seen before and I thought I’d seen them all. She pulled up her pajama leg.
“Lookit.” She pointed in the dark.
I leaned closer to her leg, squinting. There were scratches on the side like a cat might’ve clawed her. “What’d you do that on? Where’d you fall?”
She giggled. “I did it myself. Tonight, before I brushed my teeth. I was in my room and a tack fell off my bulletin board. I just picked it up and did it.” She giggled again.
I stared back at her. “Did it hurt?”
She shook her head. “It felt good.” She smiled as if she’d just won an award.
“Why’d you do it?”
She shrugged. “I wanted to see if I’d bleed. I tasted it. It tastes funny.” A huge smile spread across her face, but her smile quickly turned to a look of concern. “Bethy, don’t tell anyone. They’ll think I’m a weirdo. Promise you won’t tell anyone. Promise, Bethy?”
“Course not,” I replied.
And I didn’t. And I hadn’t. And I wouldn’t.
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Missing Parts Page 24