The Extraordinaries

Chapter Seventeen: Elise

I'M SO CONFUSED. I PACE in circles around Julia's guest room, trying find some sort of answer, some sort of understanding for what's going on, for why everything is like this, but I can't.

I understand now, what my parents meant about this family. I understand that they're not like everything else, even if I can't put my finger on why. There's something wrong with them, something that has shaped them into soap opera characters who live in a world where little kids die, long-lost cousins return from the deep, and women who are married to men but love other women. In all my fourteen years, I've never had as much happen to me as I have in these three days.

I call my mom, but she doesn't pick up. I think she and my dad were planning to go to a movie today in the theater where they used to make out as teenagers, way in the back row. I throw my phone down hard on the bed, wishing it would crack open. Wishing I could have enough power to at least control that.

There's a soft knock on the door and I turn to see George standing there, looking like he's seen a ghost. "Can I come in, Miri?" he whispers, and for some reason, I feel a bit proud that he knows my name.

"Of course," I say, patting the bed. He leaps to the spot, sinking down the covers and then curling into a little ball right there.

"I have to tell you something," he says, his eyes wide as if he's afraid.

"What is it?" I ask, not sure if this is the right way to speak to him. He's only six; is there a different way of speaking that I'm supposed to use with him, a new tone or set of vocabulary that's easier for him to understand.

"I'm not supposed to tell anyone," he whimpers.

I freeze. "Is it about your mom?" I ask.

He stares at me for a long moment, and then asks, "Did you see them too?"

I know right away that he saw something more than I did. A kid of his age wouldn't understand a look passed between two sets of eyes, or a hug that was more than just a placement of the arms. A kid of his age would have to see something real, something concrete, to understand what was going on.

"What happened, George?" I whisper. "What did you see?"

"Mom was kissing Dad's cousin," he whispers back. "In the living room. I tried to go next door and tell Great-Grandma, but Mom wouldn't let me. She sent me to my room."

I don't know what to do. Obviously, what's Julia's just done is completely innappropriate, much more so than the simple glance I witnessed, but what am I supposed to do?

Before I can find the right words, the bell rings downstairs and I hear the sounds of greetings. One of the cousins is here.

"Stay here," I tell George. "Just... go watch TV with Lulu. We'll figure it out later."

He nods, looking uncertain, and scampers away down the hall. I sink down onto the edge of the bed, wrapping my arms around my knees, and I stay like that for a moment, dreading having to meet Julia and Charlotte's eyes.

They like each other. Probably hooked up in high school. That's the tension I was feeling yesterday. I can't believe I didn't figure that out.

Suddenly, the air in the room feels stifling, even though it's really more cold than hot. I have to go back downstairs. I have to face the truth.

In the foyer, I find Julia and Charlotte standing beside a man who's probably a few years their junior. I think I recognize him from the wedding, though I'm not sure- all the men in this family look the same, with their faintly-colored crew cuts and their sharp blue eyes. The man is standing next to a young girl with dark blonde hair, one who closely resembles Alex's daughter. The girl is wearing a pink fleece, chewing her thumbnail.