His plane landed at 5:20 and it’s almost nine o’clock. Mom says she should have gotten the flight number even though she already said that three times. She says she wishes Dad would turn his phone on even though she already said that about a hundred times.
We’re sitting at the kitchen table eating Thin Mints. Mom likes Thin Mints because they’re thin so they’re better for you. She deals the Thins out like cards. One for Polly, one for Tana, one for me, one for her. Two for Polly, two for Tana, two for me, two for her. We have six Thins each. Polly and I nibble ours but Mom and Tana eat theirs whole. Tana closes her eyes first like they’re giant Necco Wafers and we’re playing Communion.
When Mom goes upstairs to get Polly a sweater because Polly’s cold and too scared to go up there, Tana says, “What if his plane crashed?”
Polly looks at me and I shake my head no even though I was already thinking that. Last year an airplane crashed and everyone died. Even kids. Please don’t let Dad’s plane crash, please don’t let Dad’s plane crash.
“I saw you praying,” Tana says.
“I wasn’t praying.”
“Then why were your lips moving?”
Mom’s back with Polly’s pony sweater. “You girls should be in bed,” she says but she doesn’t tell us to go upstairs so we stay at the table.
It’s 9:23. The plane is falling into the ocean. There’s a big splash and the plane goes under the water. The newsman says there are no survivors. Polly and Tana and I are standing in the cemetery where Grandpa’s buried. We’re wearing black dresses and shiny black shoes. We’re holding black umbrellas. Tana’s praying and Polly’s hugging Mom’s legs and everyone is crying.
It’s 9:34. Nana’s at the funeral too, but she isn’t talking to us because Nana doesn’t like Mom. Nana says Dad could have married the homecoming queen if he wanted to but he chose Mom instead. She never says it to Mom but she tells us, she tells us the homecoming queen liked Dad, everybody in town knew it. Nice girl, Nana says. Skinny little thing too.
“I hope he got us candy,” Tana says.
Mom says she doesn’t want us to be disappointed if Dad didn’t get us anything. She says if Dad forgot she’ll take us to the grocery store tomorrow and buy us some candy.
We already ate all our Thins and now we don’t have anything to do so Mom gets out the pretzels.
The pretzel bag poked me on the wrist so now I have to poke my other wrist.
“Maggie,” Mom says, “eat the ones in the bowl.”
At ten o’clock we can’t stop yawning so Mom says, “Up to bed.” She doesn’t come upstairs with us anymore, not until we’re all ready for bed and it’s time to kiss our cheeks.
I’m still saying the things I need to say to protect us and the rabbits, and Tana’s still saying her prayers when the front door opens.
“Dad!” We kick off sheets, we jump out of bed. “Hi, Dad! Hi, Daddy! Hi, Dad!” We grab at each other’s pajamas, we want to be first downstairs, we want to be first to hug Dad.
Dad’s looking down at the floor and Mom’s saying, “And you couldn’t have called to let us know?” I wish she wouldn’t have said that because now Dad looks all sad instead of happy to see us.
Polly gets to Dad first, she gets his stomach and both of his arms, but then Dad pulls his arms out of her hug so now Tana and I each have an arm.
“Pretty late for three pretty girls to be up,” Dad says. He’s smiling at us but he still looks sad.
“We were waiting for you!” Tana says.
“We were waiting for you!”
“We were waiting for you!”
When Dad squats down, we squat too. When he opens up his briefcase it’s like I’m opening up his briefcase because that’s the arm I have hold of. Dad and I reach inside his briefcase and get out a crumply brown bag. We open up the bag. We reach inside and pull out three packages of rock candy.
“Rock candy!” I scream because I see them first, and now we’re dancing, dancing the rock candy dance. Even Tana is dancing like she used to dance, and saying Daddy like she used to say Daddy, and laughing like she used to laugh when we were all little. We are all dancing and laughing and shouting, “Thank you, Daddy! Thank you, Daddy! Thank you, Daddy!” but Dad isn’t even looking at us, he’s looking at Mom, watching Mom walking away.