Geoff estranged from his UK relatives is a widower living in Portland. He is in his late forties when he faces the bad midlife crisis of being forced into retirement. Unlike many it might be one of the best things to have ever happened to him recently. For sure the next bad thing that happens could also be considered candidate for the title of 'Usually a really bad thing that is actually for the best'.

The next few weeks progressed almost exactly the same as Rachel remembered them doing. The realtors ‘For Sale’ sign was stuck in the front garden. They had to constantly clean the house because strangers were visiting to decide if they wanted to take their house away from the girls. Something seemed wrong with that. They had to work harder to help have, what they didn’t want to have happen, occur. Glenda’s tantrum about not wanting to move and ‘lose all her friends for ever’ was summarily ignored.

“Rachel Monica Stillman! Why are you not ready?”

“But Mum can’t I stay at home…

“Come here young lady. We are going to your room!” Rachel was almost dragged to the room where the offending articles of clothing were still where her Mum had left them, the middle of the bottom bunk she shared tops and tails with Sally.

“Arms up.”

“I can dress myself!”

“Obviously not, now we’re nearly late so arms up.” Rachel suffered the humiliation of not just having to wear, but being dressed in white tights, pink leotard, and a flippin’ pink tutu as if she were a baby still unable to dress herself. With her hair roughly brushed collected and tied in a high pony tail she looked like a right prat. Her red ringed and blottey panda circles around her eyes from trying to not cry probably didn’t help any.

This was a drastic change from her memories. She didn’t even remember that Glenda had already been going to ballet at this time. She had memories of her quitting ballet when they lived in Weymouth about three years from now. Perhaps she’d only paid attention to what her big sister was doing alone when there was yelling, screaming and major drama was involved.

Of course Rachel realized as Mum locked the front door with her and her sisters outside with far too much of her body visible, they wouldn’t be getting into the car. No Dad had the car so they were now going to walk in public dressed like… Ah she didn’t even want to acknowledge in thought what she currently looked dressed as. This had to be child abuse.

A lifetime of humiliation later they finally got to the dance studio and were able to get out of public view, and she could at least hide at the back of the sea of five to teenage age dancers in similar enough outfits that she hopefully wasn’t visible.

Twenty-five minutes later and Rachel had succeeded in annoying the ever patient teacher enough by doing nothing and ignoring her that she’d asked one of the older girls to cover the class while she went into her office with Rachel’s Mum. She’d refused to smile, follow directions and stood rigid in the back with arms folded. Initially she had thought to mimic so as to not stand out, but then realized that doing so would lead to capitulation. She did make note of the stretches. Those likely would be useful when not dressed as a ballerina! With any luck the teacher is likely begging her Mum to never bring her here again. Just a few more minutes of being ridiculed and gossiped about and the walk home, and maybe she will be free of this outfit she thought, to allow herself to handle the taunting. Sadly there were Mums here that were as rude and un-accepting, if not more than the children.

Rachel felt a little bad as she almost ran with her sisters after her hastily walking Mum on the way home after class. Her Mum looked like she was about to cry which made no sense. Rachel had told her she wouldn’t enjoy ballet. Mum’d said she just had to try and might find she actually likes it. She was an adult and shouldn’t cry just because the other person was right. If she had just listened to her in the beginning this would never have happened. When she’d said that to her Mum, it had made her Mum more upset. Rachel was figuring it was best to leave it alone. Soon she would be home and out of this ridiculous outfit, and never have to wear it again.

Saturday started with the typical grey gloom of late early-April, where Spring had stalled in escaping Winter. The kids were bundled up into the car for yet another weekend of house hunting. Rachel had lost to Sally for a window seat on the rear bench of the Austin Allegro. Thus, was stuck with feet on the hump. This was nice, as her dangling feet could actually rest on the raised floor. However, said hump was erroneously used to show the space of the seat that was hers. She was also too short to see easily out of the front windshield, so the lack of view often led to making her carsick. She used to think the Allegro was a huge car, having one more sibling seemed to cause the car to shrink.

After the third house in Titchfield the excitement of carefully tearing around different rooms and gardens was wearing even Sally’s previously believed unending excitement. As Glenda and Sally attempted to get Rachel to join in on their pinching and pulling hair game she was unfortunately sat in the middle of, Rachel tried to listen to her parent’s conversation up front, as the car drove to Whiteley next.

“Let’s stop for lunch somewhere on the way to Whiteley, dear.” Mum requested.

“I’ll see what I can do. Anyway, I think the second was a definite candidate.”

“I am not living for a year in a house that needs that much work. Remember you can’t get started fixing anything for almost a year. I can’t live with that kitchen and bathroom. Two of the bedrooms are unusable, and the garden!”

“Dear, I could get the kitchen changed before I left. The second bedroom is larger than the one the three girl’s are currently sharing, so the bedrooms can wait…

“And the bathroom, and the garden?” Mum asked.

“I might be able to get the bathroom done too. Can’t the garden wait?”

“Micheal, even best case, it will take six weeks to move, and that will leave slightly less than two months to unpack and get yourself sorted for your own move. Do you really think during the handful of weekends you aren’t pulled on duty, you can shop for and install the new kitchen, and you think to say you could get the bathroom fixed also. If the Hughes’ offer falls through, and there’s something odd there, then we will still be looking for a buyer. Most likely we will barely have time to sell and move before you’re gone, and I can’t live with that kitchen and bathroom for a year.”

“How about ‘The Wilde Horse’?” Michael quickly changed the subject.

“We’re going to get a horse when we move?” Glenda immediately changed her mind on being against the move.

“Really!” The shriek from Sally was instilled with pure excitement. The two girls began into a hurried conversation of timeshare, grooming, mucking the stall, and other allotments of who gets what when, with the believed family horse. Rachel just sunk back into the rear seat not wanting to be the wake-up call to reality on that one.

“A pub lunch is not really appropriate with the girl’s.”

“We can sit in the garden, the sun’s come out and it looks quite nice.”

“What about our horse?” Glenda tried to get back to the important conversation.

Belinda looked out and noted that there was a patch of clear sky so agreed with her husband on his lunch idea.

Here’s ‘The Wilde Horse’, poppet.” Michael told his eldest as he turned, and the pub’s sign could be seen ahead.

“That’s not a horse.”

“Sure, it is. Look at the picture on the sign.” Dad told Glenda.

“Looks like you’ll have to go in to order.” Belinda offered. “They can have lemonade, are we drinking?”

“I figured I would get a pint.”

“Glass of house white as long as it’s not too dry.”

As Sally and Glenda went to explore the flower garden likely still hopeful on getting a horse, Rachel followed her Mum, whom had brought some printed sheets of paper from the Allegro to the wooden slat table they would be eating lunch at. Placing several house fliers beside each other she tried to plan the order of the afternoons hunting. Rachel to pass time quickly started reading from the side of her Mum.

“What are you doing Rachel?” Mum asked her daughter, having suddenly realized she was not alone in her reading.

“Looking at the choices of houses we’re going to look at next. These two have only two bedrooms, and that one has three, but no driveway or garage…

“How do you know that, there are no pictures on this page? Wait a second what does this word say?”

“fireplace?” Rachel queried trying to work out how that word had anything to do with what she had just said.

“… and this one?”

“fenced.” Rachel more confidently offered. Then as her Mum pointed to several words she called them each out until getting to the last request for ‘panoramic’.

“When did you learn panoramic?”

“Well I’m sure I’ve heard you or Dad say it many times.”

“No, I mean, how it looks written.”

“Well I mean it’s actually spelt just as it sounds, so I’m not sure what to say.” Rachel said being slightly flustered as she couldn’t recall why she knew how the word looked like it did and trying to answer 'when' would open a whole other kettle of fish. She could just see how that one would go over if she said, 'I'm sorry Mum but I can't recall when in my prior life's over forty years of memories I learned that word. Oh, and I was a man then.'

“Fireplace doesn’t though.” Mum replied. “If you spoke it how it’s written you would say something like ‘fiery plackey’.”

“No, I wouldn’t it’s missing the ‘y’s’ and ‘k’ for saying it that way.” Rachel obstinately disagreed and hopefully muddied the water by acting out.

“I brought you the wine list, as the house white is rather dry apparently.” Michael said, dropping the three lemonades, a couple of menus and the wine list on the table.

“Rachel can read all of this.” Belinda informed her husband.

“Well the school says she spends all her free time reading.”

“I’m sure it’s picture books, the school isn’t aware she can read words like ‘panoramic’. They would call something like that out specifically.”

Michael once more found himself in uncomfortable territory before realizing that he had to go back for his pint. “They recommend the Mount Evan Chablis, I can get it when I go back for my pint?” At his wife’s nod he escaped and put off having to address the oddness that was his second daughter.

“Sally, Glenda. Come here girls and chose what you want to eat. Actually, Rachel why don’t you read the menu to them.”

“Rachel can’t read the menu Mum, she’s five!” Glenda exclaimed.

“Sure, she can. Rachel read the choices to your sisters.” Mum requested and didn’t notice the thunderous brow forming on her eldest as Rachel began reading.

As Rachel finished reading the sixth item Glenda tore the menu from her hands. “it’s just a dumb menu anyone can read it Mum. She then began reading the first item on the menu that Rachel had already read. “Cot-tag-ee pie sir-ved with…

“That was ‘cottage pie’ and ‘served’ and I read that one already…

“Of course, it is but I am teaching Sally how to sound out the words. It’s the first step in learning to read but you don’t know that yet. Here you need more practice.” Glenda thrust the menu back at her sister, and their Mum realized that perhaps this hadn’t been as good an idea as she’d originally thought it would be.