Free Lizzie Borden by Elizabeth Engstrom

join the living, eh?”
    “I’m sorry, Father. I was reading. I became quite engrossed.”
    “Oh? So engrossed you forget to eat? So engrossed you forget your family?”
    “I’m sorry.”
    Abby fetched the warmed plate and set it before Lizzie. Lizzie whispered a thank-you and began to eat. She ate as if she hadn’t eaten in days.
    Abby’s own plate had chilled. Half-melted butter had congealed on the potato, and it didn’t look at all as it did before she left to coax the girl from her room. She added salt and ate it anyway.
    Andrew cleared his throat and set his fork upon his plate, tines down, with a sound that commanded attention. Abby’s potato stuck in her throat. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, dread coursing through her. He was going to spoil whatever it was that had just begun to happen. Should she speak? Dare she?
    “Lizzie, I’ve been thinking.”
    Dear God .
    Lizzie looked up from her plate, chewing slowly, thoughtfully. She took a long drink from her water, then dabbed at the corners of her mouth and waited patiently for her father to collect his thoughts.
    “I think I’ll give Emma the money she wants so badly, and ask her to see if she can’t live with her friends there in New Bedford.”
    The thrill that ran up Abby’s spine at her husband’s words stopped dead when she saw the expression on Lizzie’s face.
    Andrew cleared his throat. “Or. Well. She’d be a wealthy woman by any standards. She could buy her own house there, or here in town, for that matter.”
    The expression on Lizzie’s face was unreadable. There was shock there, and disbelief, but something more, something Abby couldn’t identify, and it seemed to disturb Andrew as much or more than it did her.
    Lizzie’s fork, forgotten in her hand, slowly lowered itself to the plate with a light ting .
    “She’s become disruptive to the family, Lizzie,” Andrew said.
    Lizzie was silent, her eyes still on her father’s face.
    “She’s a grown woman, Lizzie. She should have a life of her own, in a home of her own.”
    Lizzie set the fork down. Abby swallowed. Her eyes darted back and forth between her stepdaughter and her husband. She silently prayed, Dear God, not something new to rend this family, please, not something new.
    “I would go with her,” Lizzie said quietly.
    Andrew let out a sigh. “Lizzie, don’t say that. Don’t lets make any firm decisions about this. It was an idea, a suggestion. I say we all sleep on it tonight and then discuss it again in the morning.”
    “Nothing will be different in the morning, Father,” Lizzie spoke in full voice. “If Emma is to leave the house, then of course I must go with her. I, too, am a grown woman and if you think she should be on her own, then I should also.”
    “But the three of us,” Andrew pointed his fork at Abby, “get on so well together. And it would be better for us, given the chance.”
    “There are things you don’t understand, Father,” Lizzie said.
    “Tell me.”
    Abby heard a wistfulness in his voice, and she knew he had lost the battle. He would never ever let Lizzie leave his side. Never. Ever.
    “She`s my sister.”
    “So?”
    “So, she raised me, practically.” Lizzie did not look up to see the knife twist in Abby’s heart.
    “You may think that, child, but. . .”
    “I’m not a child, and I do think that. I also think. . .” Lizzie put her napkin to her face.
    “Go on, Lizzie.”
    “I also think that Emma cannot get on by herself. I think she would die. And I owe her too much to let that happen.”
    “That’s foolish talk, girl.”
    “You may think that,” Lizzie retorted with a small smile.
    Abby wanted so much to jump in and pour out her heart. She wanted to tell Lizzie how much she loved her, how she had always loved her wonderful green-eyed little girl, and how hard it had been for her all these years, deferring always to Emma and Emma’s ways. Abby wanted to come around the table and clutch Lizzie to her and