Page 12 of Persephone's Curse
“I didn’t do anything!” I said quickly, seeing Evelyn’s eyes widen.
Evelyn lifted her head and studied Bernadette quietly, then nodded. “It does. It really suits you.”
“Thanks, Evie,” Bernadette said, shrugging. “It’s just hair.”
She got herself a plate and took her empty seat between Clara and me. She pulled one of Clara’s braids.
“Should I get bangs?” Clara asked.
“Absolutely,” Bernadette said, at the same time Evie said, “No!”
“What is it with hair?” Dad murmured to no one in particular.
“You wouldn’t really understand,” Mom said. She herself had long, long hair that she mostly wore in a sloppy bun on the top ofher head, unless she was going to a fancy event for her job, in which case she switched to an easy, elegant chignon. I loved that word.Chignon.It sounded so French.
“Ischignon French?” I asked.
Bernadette nodded enthusiastically (French in high school). “It meansnape of the neck.”
“What’s a chignon?” Dad asked.
“You wouldn’t really understand,” Mom repeated. “Evelyn, darling, are you going to eat your potatoes or just continue to subject them to the wrath of your fork?”
Evelyn pushed her plate away, stood up from the table, and left the room. It happened very quickly. We were all sort of surprised, because even though it wasn’t uncommon for someone to storm away from a Farthing dinner, it usually wasn’t Evelyn.
“Did I miss something?” Dad asked.
“You wouldn’t really understand,” Clara said, beating Mom to it.
“Can’t I have justone nightto be the upset one?” Bernadette said.
“Nobody can ever just behappyin this household,” Dad mused.
“You were upset last night, too, so,” Clara said.
Bernadette nodded. “Fair point, Cece.”
“Do I need to go and talk to her or do you think I can finish my dinner first?” Mom asked, an actual question that we took a moment to think about first.
“I think she’s upset about Bernadette’s hair,” I said. “No offense, Bernie. I don’t think she likes it.”
“None taken,” Bernadette said. “Evelyn doesn’t love change. She gets that from you, Dad.”
He pointed to himself, exaggeratedly admonished, like,me?
We all nodded.
He shrugged.
We went back to our dinners.
I knocked on Evelyn’s bedroom door after dinner and when she didn’t answer, I let myself in. I could tell she’d been crying because her windows were open. She didn’t like to cry unless her windows were open. And I could tell Henry had been there because it smelled like jasmine, although he wasn’t there now.
“Where’s Henry?” I asked.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just asking. Jesus, Evelyn, what is going on with you?”
