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"Morty's a good boy; he tried. Okay, Morty, be older and eat by yourself," she commanded. He smiled and dug into his food quickly before she changed her mind.

"What are you gawking at, princess? Don't you and my brother play little games with each other?" she asked.

"Not as stupid as that," Gavin said quickly.

"Oh, don't be an old prude like your brother was," she replied and then turned to me. "You did a good job on this food, princess. You're getting better and better at everything. Who knows? By the time we leave, you might qualify as a household servant. How would you like that, Jefferson?" she asked, leaning over the table toward him. "How would you like your sister to be a household servant?"

Jefferson shrugged.

"Can we stay here if she is?" he asked.

"Of course you can." She fixed her eyes on me. "As long as she's a good servant, you can hide out forever for all I care." She sighed deeply. "But Christie is not really just a household servant. She's very talented. Everyone knows that. We've all been told enough times. Morty's very anxious to hear you play, aren't you, Morty?"

"What?" He looked up quickly from his plate. "Oh yes. Can you do some Chopin?"

"Of course, she can," Aunt Fern replied for me. "She can do anything on the piano. Can't you?"

"I know some Chopin. I did some sonatas for lessons in piano technique."

"Oh, well excuse us. Piano technique. Great," she said, smirking.

"I took some piano lessons when I was younger," Morton volunteered.

"Well isn't that peachy-keen. Everyone's had lessons in this or that but me," Aunt Fern said.

"I know that Daddy wanted you to learn an instrument," I said. "I remember you refusing."

"Well, I wasn't going to do it just because he wanted me to. Anyway, it was probably something Dawn told him to do. We're happy just listening to you, princess," she added, forcing a smile. She wiped her face and dropped her napkin. "Come on, Morty. Let's, adjourn to the living room for an after-dinner drink. When you're finished cleaning up, come in and entertain us," she commanded.

"Just a minute," Gavin began. He started to rise in his seat. I grabbed his arm.

"It's all right, Gavin. I don't mind playing the piano, even for Aunt Fern," I said. That brought a smile to both his and Morton's lips.

Aunt Fern pivoted quickly and marched out of the room, Morton following obediently at her heels like a puppy.

While Charlotte and I cleaned off the table and did the dishes, Gavin occupied Jefferson with the deck of playing cards he had bought him during our trip to Lynchburg. Luther, unable to contain himself any longer in front of Aunt Fern and Morton, disappeared to finish up some mysterious work in the barn; and Homer knew enough to stay away, although when I finally did finish the kitchen chores and went into the living room to play the piano, I caught sight of him peering in through a window. Every time Aunt Fern turned in his direction, however, he would disappear.

I played more than a few Chopin preludes. My music was my escape. It resembled a magic carpet, sweeping me off and out of this world of meanness and cruelty. I closed my eyes and visualized Mommy sitting quietly and attentively in our living room back in Cutler's Cove, her smile full of pride. When I played, it was as if all of the terrible things that had happened never happened. The music washed away the sadness and tragedy, making it all seem to be nothing more than a series of bad dreams. We were all alive and well and together.

I really lost myself in the music, for when I stopped and opened my eyes, everyone, even Aunt Fern, was gazing at me with eyes wide and full of amazement. Aunt Charlotte clapped her hands excitedly. Jefferson had fallen asleep with his head resting against Gavin's shoulder.

"That was nothing short of fantastic," Morton said. His expression of appreciation immediately wiped the look of awe off Aunt Fern's face. "You're a very talented young lady," he said, nodding. He was so impressed, I actually blushed with embarrassment.

"She's good, I suppose," Aunt Fern admitted reluctantly. "I told you she had the best piano teachers. No money was spared when it came to the princess."

"It takes more than money to play like that," Morton said.

"Well, I could have done something with my talent too," Aunt Fern whined, "if I had people care about me, really care instead of pretend." She whipped her arms up and folded them under her breasts. Then she sat back, glaring at me in a jealous sulk like a child.

"I'd better take Jefferson upstairs and put him to sleep," I said, going to him. "Come on, Jefferson." His eyes fluttered open for a moment.

"I'll carry him," Gavin said. He lifted him into his arms. Jefferson's head settled comfortably against Gavin's chest.

"I'm going to sleep, too," Aunt Charlotte announced.

"Good for you," Aunt Fern said. Then she turned to Gavin and me. "Come right back down," she ordered. "We want to play a game."

"Game? What game?" I asked suspiciously.