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pelvis into his. When fate toppled them the other way, it was Blue’s turn. They were entangled and inseparable: horizontal and upright, they were constant and complex companions. They held hands in the schoolyard, at least, they did until Emma was in grade six and Brenda Tailgate told her she must be a pervert because sisters were supposed to hate their brothers. But until that day, she didn’t let go of her baby brother’s hand.
    In the world above the basement, Oliver had started to renovate. “I’m going to build you your dream home, Elaine!” he announced one day in mid-manic upswing at the dinner table.
    â€œWhat exactly does that entail, Oliver?” Elaine asked suspiciously.
    â€œYou tell me,” he said. “You want a swimming pool—I’ll give you a swimming pool. You want a greenhouse or a fireplace—I’ll give you a greenhouse or a fireplace.”
    While Oliver sincerely thought this would please her, all Elaine could imagine was living in the middle of a construction site, picking nails out of her cornflakes, shaking sawdust from her hair. She could picture them walking the plank over a cavernous hole in the garden where the swimming pool Oliver had promised would forever remain a pit of despair. Elaine picked up the dishes and started washing them in the sink.
    â€œYour mother’s got no vision,” Oliver said conspiratorially to the children. “She can’t picture it. What do you think, kids? A big old fireplace?” Emma and Blue nodded eagerly. “A swimming pool?”
    â€œYipeee!” Emma said, grabbing Blue’s hand and throwing their arms up in the air. They loved these moments when their father cameto life. Lightning streaked across his face and his eyes wandered like he was watching a meteor shower that was setting the world on fire. They were enraptured and terrified: fully aware of the fact that wherever lightning strikes, things are likely to burn.
    â€œWhat’s that?” Elaine said, her back to them as she stood at the sink.
    â€œNothing, dear,” said Oliver. “Just garnering a little support over here.”
    â€œOliver—don’t do that. Don’t make them choose sides.”
    â€œI’m not making them choose sides. I’m just showing them how to dream.”
    â€œPerhaps you could teach them something a little more practical,” she said angrily.
    â€œElaine, you know,” he sighed, shaking his head, “you’re just not the woman I married.”
    â€œWell, unfortunately you
are
the man I married.”
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?”
    â€œI mean, when are you going to grow up?”
    Dad isn’t a grown up? Emma wondered.
    â€œYou’re the most irresponsible person I’ve ever met,” Elaine snapped. She thoroughly resented being the sole wage earner. Since they’d arrived in Niagara Falls, Elaine had been working two jobs: substitute teaching whenever she could, and booking tours of Niagara Falls for busloads of tourists who would have been millionaires if they got paid to complain. She’d begun to wonder if she wouldn’t have been much better off doing what her parents had wished and marrying some bug-eyed dentist from Philadelphia. Even if he did have a personality as dull as a used drill bit, she could at least have been able to afford to keep her kids’ teeth clean.
    Oliver paused. “What happened to your dreams, Elaine? Where did they go?”
    He sounded wistful, and that made Emma and Blue feel sorry and sad.
    My dreams? Elaine thought. How dare he? Perhaps she could just declare she was going to write a novel and go to bed for six weeks in order to dream up a plot. Maybe Emma and Blue could quit school and support them. Her dreams? She didn’t have the time or the energy now to write much more than a shopping list. “Life, Oliver. Life got in the way,” she finally said. “It does. For