Page 1 of The Fault Between Us
prologue:CLAIRE
January 1942
Willmar, Minnesota
The day Mother left, Claire got a gold star for her report on Yellowstone National Park.
She couldn’t wait to get home. She tugged at Bridget’s hand to keep her from dawdling on the cold walk from Willmar Elementary to their house on First Street. The sharp wind bit at Claire’s cheeks and gray slush seeped into her Mary Janes. Dad would come home from work tonight and tell Claire he was proud. Mother might even smile like she used to. Claire burst through the kitchen door with her report in one hand, Bridget’s mittened fingers in the other.
Something wasn’t right.
Dad was home in the middle of the day. He and Mother sat at the kitchen table. Mother wore her church coat and the pretty hat with the feather, and Dad held baby Frannie on his lap. Claire’s report with the gold star fell to the floor.
“I want a cookie,” Bridget demanded as she took off her coat.
“Not now, Bridget,” Claire told her. Bridget was just six and maybe she didn’t see that something was wrong with Dad’s face and Mother wasn’t looking at them.
“Claire and Bridget,” Dad said, and his voice sounded hard, like it did sometimes at night when he and Mother were talking and Claire was supposed to be asleep. “Your mother has something to tell you both.”
Mother didn’t say anything. Bridget’s hand searched for Claire’s. Claire grabbed at her sister’s cold fingers and laced them with her own. She felt like maybe she was getting a stomachache.
Mother looked at them finally, and her face looked like she had an ache in her stomach, too. “Girls, I’m going to live in another town. I have a job there.”
Claire didn’t understand at first. Who would take care of them when Dad was at the store? Who would make dinner and wash their clothes and feed the baby? Unless... Claire’s stomach pinched even more. “Are you taking us with you?”
Mother didn’t answer.
“You’re staying with me,” Dad said. “All three of you.”
“I’ll come back to visit,” Mother said.
Dad frowned when Mother said that.
“Kiss me goodbye.” Mother bent down to them.
Bridget kissed her—because she always did what Mother and Dad said—but Claire didn’t want to. If she didn’t kiss her, maybe she wouldn’t go. Mother leaned down and pressed a kiss on Claire’s cheek. Her lips were sticky with lipstick and she smelled like the perfume she kept on her dresser and hardly ever used.
“I want a cookie,” Bridget said again, but this time her voice was weak and uncertain.
“Claire,” Dad said, “take Bridget upstairs and both of you change out of your school clothes.”
Claire brought Bridget to the room they shared and helped her out of her dress and into her playclothes. Was Mother leaving because shehadn’t been good? Maybe Claire hadn’t taken care of baby Frannie as much as she should have. Claire put Bridget’s shoes on and tied her laces. “Stay here,” Claire said. “I’ll be right back.” She ran down the stairs with her heart pounding.
Mother stood beside the front door with a suitcase in her hand. “Marie,” Dad’s voice had that bad sound again. “I meant what I said.”
“Daniel, it’s not fair.” Mother’s voice sounded like she was going to cry.
Dad made a sound in his throat. “I’m thinking of the girls.”
Mother turned the doorknob and pulled at the door.
Claire’s eyes prickled and her chest felt like it did when she held her breath for a long time. Mothers didn’t leave their children. Claire pushed past Dad and wrapped her arms around Mother’s legs. “Mommy,” Claire said. Claire hadn’t called her mommy since she was littler than Bridget. “Don’t go, please. I’ll be good. We’ll be good I promise.” Claire rushed on. “I’ll take care of Frannie at night when she cries. And—and I’ll do the dishes in the morning before school, I promise.”
“Claire,” Mother’s voice was a whisper. “I have to go.”
“No,” Claire said. “You can’t.” Mothers and fathers stayed with their children and they all lived together.
Dad untangled Claire’s hands and pulled her back. Claire struggled against her dad’s hold, a sob working up her chest. “Please, don’t go,” Claire said. “Please don’t go.”
