The Wrong Train

Prologue

I lie to myself. I do it every morning before I fix my father his breakfast. I do it every night after I wish my little sister sweet dreams. There are times I've even convinced myself that the impossible is the truth. I suppress it all so that I can be the person my family needs me to be—the person the world wants to see. But the truth is like a sheet of ice, just because you don't see it, doesn't it mean it can't take you down.

I sit at the round dining room table staring at the clock above my father's head. The honey roasted turkey in front of us grows colder as we try to ignore the perpetual ticking of the second hand. My father reaches for a small bowl of mashed potatoes at his side.

"I say we eat. When she gets here she gets here," Dad says.

I push his hand away, "Give her a few more minutes. She said she'd be here."

"If your sister wanted to be here on time she'd be here. You made us a nice meal and I think we should enjoy it.

"But Papa, I made it for her…"

He holds up his hand in front of me and I end my protest. He lowers his head and quickly mumbles his daily prayers. It's so quiet I can barely make out the words. I hear him mutter, "Amen," and his eyes return to mine.

"Let's eat." He says.

I take the long silver knife from beside me and raise my hand to begin slicing my turkey. I don't even touch the blade to the meat before my father interrupts.

"How about you let the hands of the surgeon do that?" He holds his shaky, calloused hand out in front of me and waits for me to obey.

I force a smile and hand the handle to him, "Of course."

Papa sticks a fork in the meat to steady himself and begins to pull the knife back and forth across the turkey. And, as always, I sit patiently waiting for him to meticulously do the final, unsubstantial step of the cooking process I had begun hours and hours before.

We hear the front door of the house slam and both our heads snap toward the sound.

"Hello? Anybody home?" Carolyn says.

"Where else would we be, Cara? You said you'd be home at six." Papa says.

"Papa, please it's fine…" I say.

Cara enters the dining room still dressed from her afternoon out with 'whatshisname." She's in a long pale yellow dress with her hair pulled back in curled pony tail. The blush and eye shadow I put on her still look intact but the lipstick we picked out looks faded and smudged. I sure hope 'whatshisname' looks good in cherry red.

"What took you so long?" he says.

"Don't be mad, Papa. I know I'm late but you'll be absolutely thrilled when I tell you why."

Cara's smile grows and her white teeth glow against her suntanned skin.

"You won something at school?"

"Better!"

She's absolutely giddy. She nearly floats to her seat and then begins to serve herself mashed potatoes and vegetables- despite our empty plates.

"What is it? Just tell us." Papa says.

"I'll give you a hint!"

She holds up the back of her left hand and gives us the biggest, goofiest, grin I've seen on her.

"I don't get it." He says.

"I got engaged!" She shrieks.

She laughs and uses her right hand to point to her left.

"Dale proposed. Just out of the blue! We were just walking around the park and all of a sudden he got down on one knee and…."

"Didn't give you a ring." He says gesturing to her bare finger.

"Well no, not yet. But when we graduate he'll start working at his father's business and he promised that then he'll get me the most beautiful ring of all."

"That's nice. I promise that when I win the lottery you can have the house."

Her eyes widen, "You mean it?"

"No- and neither does he."

"Papa…" I say.

Cara's glow turns to a grimace. "That's not fair. You don't even know him."

"Do you? You've known him a week." I say.

"Four weeks!" she says.

"Oh, excuse me, four weeks."

Cara stands up from her chair, "You said with Mama that you knew the moment you met her she was the one for you!" She says. "Why should it be any different for me?"

Papa hesitates and his posture softens. He walks over to Carolyn and puts his hands gently on her shoulders, "I just don't want you rushing into anything."

She shakes her head, "I love him, Papa. He's a good man."

"Then I'm sure I'll love him too." Papa says.

Her giddy smile returns and Papa wraps her in his arms.

"Congratulations, Cara." He says.

"And you?" Cara says, "I'm making you my maid of honor."

"Congratulations, Cara." I say.

"I have to go! Dale is waiting for me in the car. He's taking me out to celebrate."