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"Once the dinner was laid out on the table, each one less dinner-like than the one before, once Michaela and her father were seated, her mother glanced expectantly from one to the other until they started eating. Then she brought out the newspaper and proceeded to ignore both of them.
"Elaine", Christopher said.
"I'm sorry, am I being rude ?" She put the paper down. "How was work, darling?" She was an actress impersonating a wife. (...)
"Very productive", her father said. He no longer recognized this as the life they'd left the circus for, and he felt that there'd been some kind of a bait and switch.
"Good", her mother said, and picked up the paper again.
In the silence after that moment, Michaela tried to eat as quickly as possible, or as little as possible, or both; she wanted to leave the table as fast as she could. Her mother put the paper down.
"But no one asked me about my day!" she said. Don't you want to know what I did?"
"Please" said her father, "not in front of the kid". He didn't look at Michaela, although she stared at his face.
"Well", she said, "never mind, then. It doesn't matter what I did."
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