Acacia did not actually pat Milda on the head, but her voice was the tonal equivalent of that gesture. "Puddin, Naresha and me work. You're too young to be out on your own, and one of us needs to get a little rest sometimes." She didn't say it, but when Milda slept or rested, all three of the sisters benefited. They didn't try to analyse it--they just accepted it.

"But if I worked, too, we could save a lot more," Milda insisted. "We want to have our own place eventually, right?"

"Right," said Naresha. "But that won't be for some time, darling. Remember, it's almost two years till we're eighteen and have a legal chance of staying out of The Bastard's clutches, and twenty-one would be safer. We can't really settle down till then."

"But I want to help!"

They were in one more motel room in one more anonymous town, and Acacia and Naresha were preparing to go out job hunting. Milda had been hinting about wanting to work for the last month, and now she was trying, in her quiet way, to insist. She wasn't having any luck.

Acacia hugged her. "Sweetie, you do help." She pointed to a pile of textbooks sitting on the table. One town they'd been in had had a university, and they'd gone to the used book store and loaded up on anything that looked interesting or useful. Milda devoured chemistry and medical texts. "You're the one who's getting the education. One of us should."

Naresha hugged her also. "You keep us sane, sweet. We deal with the shittiness of the world, then come to you, and you soothe us back into some semblance of civilization."

Milda sighed. "Oh, all right." But she added, "For now! If we could just get someplace with a kitchen, I know I could sell my baked goods." The last few waitressing jobs that Naresha and Acacia had taken, they had managed to get Milda time in the kitchen, and the girl had proved to be a wiz with a spatula. At the last place she had supplied all the cakes and pies. They would have stayed longer, but one day the manager had said he'd need to get her social security number, because the tax man had been making rude noises, and he had to account for all his salaries.

They were just on the outskirts of San Fransico now, close enough by bus for Naresha and Acacia to have a choice of job opportunities. They'd both found something they liked, and they'd gotten their schedules to mesh.

Acacia worked Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays at a discotheque. They'd wanted her to serve drinks and take turns in the dance cage. She'd simply refused to come out of the cage once she got into it. By the end of her first shift she was so obviously good, and so popular with the customers, that they didn't protest.

Naresha was waiting tables in a coffee house on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. It gave her the perfect excuse to dress all in black and style her make-up as dramatically as possible.

Once they'd worked long enough for both places to realize that they were keepers, they'd flatly told the management that there was simply going to be a few nights each month when they couldn't work past dusk. Acacia's manager had asked why. If she had been a man, Acacia probably would have said something along the lines of 'none of your fucking business'. Since it was a woman, she'd simply given her a cold look and said, "Religious reasons. You want my congregation to come picket this place if I can't attend services?"

"Anyway, Milda," said Naresha, handing her the classified section of the paper she'd brought back. "You have a very important job. You have to find us a crash pad where we can all stay."

Acacia nodded vigorously. "I've had enough of this 'No, it's only me' bullshit. I want to be able to come and go whenever I feel like it."

"Besides, you're not all that good at impersonating dear Milda," Naresha said dryly.

Acacia scowled. "I try."

Milda smiled at her fondly. "I know, Casey. But a wig isn't enough. If you dyed the fur of an attack dog, you still couldn't convice people that it was a seeing eye dog."

Acacia laughed. "Anyone else said that to me, I'd spin their head around. I know that you mean it as a backhanded compliment."

Milda got a pen and flopped on the bed on her tummy, to begin her search. After a few moments she said, "I don't think we're going to be able to get an apartment. They're all either horrendously expensive, or require references, or want you to sign a lease."

"So?" Acacia was trying to rub a mark off her new patent leather mini-boots. "It's not like they'll be able to find us if we blow town and break the lease."

"Not the point, darling," Naresha told her. "If they want a lease, they have a nasty habit of wanting to really peruse your papers, and bring in notaries, or other creatures."

"I think our best bet is a rooming house. There seem to be a lot of places offering rooms to let..." she squealed happily, "with kitchen privileges! Oo, there are tons of them. We're bound to find something."

Naresha shook her head, "San Fransisco is quite odd, and if we think that..."

"This next one looks promising," Milda said. They paused a half block away and took a good look at the house. The street sloped, and they had a good view. It was a Victorian era two story, with lots of gingerbread trim and very little paint left on the walls. But the yard was neatly maintained, and there were beautiful beds of flowers. She craned her neck. "It looks like it has a big back yard, and I think I see a vegetable garden back there."

"Good." Naresha shaded her eyes and studied the house. "I'll be damned. The windows are clean. Maybe the owner will be too busy to go poking their nose where it isn't wanted."

"Fingers crossed, guys," Milda murmured. She walked down to the house and went up on the porch. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the button, and smiled when she heard a three tone chime. After a moment she heard footsteps, light and quick, approaching from the inside.

She paused at the front door and looked through the peephole. This was more for form than function. The glass was small, thick, and had become warped over the years. She couldn't see much, and what she could see was distorted. All she could really make out was long red hair, and these days that didn't even necessarily tell you whether it was a boy or a girl.

She opened the door and found herself smiling without even thinking about it. The girl on the other side of the door was quite young *Oh, they all seem so young these days.* Her skin was pale, to go with the red hair, and the eyes behind rimless glasses were a mild blue. She smiled back, and Anna saw that she was holding a folded newspaper. "Well, are you here about a room, or a kitten?"

The girl's smile grew. "You have kittens?"

"It's a room, then. Come in, young lady." She shut the door behind them and led the girl down the hall. "Come on back to the kitchen. We can discuss a room, and you can have a look at the kittens."

The girl made a straight line for the old wooden fruit box against the wall near the stove. "Dear!" Anna said anxiously. "Oh, be careful! Lulu is a first time mother, and she's nervous, she might scratch or bite."

"She won't do that to me," the girl's voice was confident. She peeked over the edge. A small tortoiseshell cat was lying on its side with three mottled balls of fur curled up tight against her. The cat regarded the woman bending over the box with large yellow eyes, and a growl rumbled in her throat. The girl said softly, "Hey, little mama! Can I please see your babies?"

"Girl, please be careful!" Anna had raised Lulu, and the high strung cat had still laid a stripe on the back of her hand the first time she tried to touch one of the kittens.

"Don't worry." She held out her hand slowly. The growl died. The cat made a curious, chirping sound, and stretched her neck to sniff the offered fingers. Then to Anna's astonishment, the cat sank back, her eyes slitted lazily, and began to purr. "That's right. We understand each other, don't we, sister?"

The girl carefully lifted a tiny kitten, cradling it in her palm and holding it close to her face. "Hello, baby. Oh, aren't you just the sweetest thing!" The kitten, eyes still gummed shut, lifted its wobbly head. It opened it's toothless mouth and made a noise like a water droplet hitting a hot griddle. The girl shook with laughter, glancing gleefully at Anna. "Ooo, so vicious. Blind, toothless, and can barely hold his head up, but he won't take any nonsense off anyone." She deposited the kitten with its littermates, and stood up. "Reminds me of my sister Acacia. I guess I'd better not bother them too much."

"Come have a seat and I'll give you some tea and poundcake, dear, and we'll discuss why you came."

"Oh, thank you. It's been a while since I had anything home made. I hope it's no trouble?"

"No, not at all. I had the kettle on already, and it's just come to the boil. And you'll be doing me a favor, helping me taste the poundcake. It's been giving me some trouble lately. By the way," she offered her hand. "I'm Anna Collins."

"I'm Milda Ballard. You have strong hands. Do you bake much bread?"

Anna blinked. "Why, I usually make a few loaves every week."

Milda nodded. "It's the kneading, then. And I'll bet you take care of your garden yourself."

Anna poured water over the tea and put the lid on the pot, bringing it to the table. "I spend a lot of time with both my vegetables, and my flowers. You're quite an observant child." She hesitated. "I hope that doesn't offend you? I know some young people are very touchy, but you just seem..."

"It's all right--I'm used to it. I'm the baby of the family." She tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear.

Anna was surprised to notice what looked like a tiny bit of webbing near the girl's hairline. *I would have thought she was a bit young to wear a wig, but the girls these days are doing things much sooner than they did while I was growing up.* "So, you have a sister. Does she live nearby?"

"Actually, we don't live anywhere right now. I don't count the motel as 'living' somewhere--sheltering, maybe. Thank you." Milda stirred sugar into her tea, and sipped.

"I suppose I should have warned you that it's camomile," said Anna apologetically.

"Oh, no, it's wonderful." Milda smiled over the cup rim. "But you said something about poundcake? And I have two sisters, both older--Acacia and Naresha."

"Your parents were creative, weren't they?" Anna was getting a sharp knife, forks, and saucers.

The girl's smile twitched, and there was a flash of discomfort in her eyes. "I really wouldn't know."

"Oh. I'm sorry, dear."

"It's all right."

"You can't stay with either of your sisters?" She cut a thick slice of cake, laying it carefully on one saucer.

"No. You see, we all need a place, and we don't want to be separated."

Anna paused in laying the second slice on it's saucer. "Oh, dear. All of you? I only have one room available right now, dear. It has a big bed, but..."

"I'm sure it would be all right," she said quickly. "As long as you wouldn't mind having us all."

Anna frowned, setting the saucer in front of the girl. *She's worried about this, but she's trying not to show it.* "Dear, don't you have anyone you can stay with? You're awful young to be living off on your own."

"I told you, I'm not alone." Her eyes were sincere. "I have my sisters. We take care of each other." She cut a forkful of the cake and ate it. Her jaw stopped working, and her brows drew together.

"Oh, no!" sighed Anna. "It's gummy in the middle again, isn't it?"

Milda nodded, and swallowed. "Uh, yes. A bit."

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong. If I bake it any longer it will burn before the center gets done. I just don't understand. I've used the exact same recipe for years, and suddenly in the last month or so--this!"

Milda poked her fork at the gooey interior of her cake slice. "Have you had the thermostat on your oven checked?"

"Yes, and it's fine. My other recipes aren't reacting like this. Well, the cookie textures have been a bit off, but nothing like this."

"Are you sure you haven't been doing anything different? Anything at all?"

"Nothing. I haven't changed any of the measurements, I add everything in the same order, I mix the same amount of time."

"Mmm. What about the sugar?"

"Exactly the same amount."

"No, I mean have you switched brands recently? Maybe gone from cane to beet, or vise versa?"

"I... Does it make a difference? I usually use Sparkle, but recently I bought a different brand. It was on sale. Would that make a difference?"

"Oh, absolutely! Especially if the grind is finer." The girl leaned forward, eyes bright. "You see, sugar makes up a big portion of the cake's structure. It's like building blocks, you know? If you use a different size and shape building block, even if you use the same amount, of course you're going to get a different result."

Anna smiled at the warm enthusiasm. "Are you a baker or a scientist, child?"

"I don't see why I can't be both."

"That's an unusual attitude for a girl these days."

"We're an unusual family." Milda said hesitantly, "The price in the newspaper... We could pay some more, but triple would be difficult."

Anna sighed. "I'm going to have to use that sugar just for tea and coffee, I suppose, and go back to my old brand. Tell me, dear, would you be willing to help a little bit with the cooking, and the housework?"

"Oh, I'd love to help cook! I usually don't get a chance. There's so little you can do when all you usually have is a hot plate."

"Are your sisters as nice as you?"

Milda hesitated, then said quietly, "I love them. But sometimes... You see, some people..."

"You're an unusual family. If you love them, I doubt I'll find much to object to. I have a male border, also, but he's a lovely, sweet boy. You'll have to share a bathroom, but he won't give you any trouble at all, I'm sure. Will he be a problem?"

Milda thought about Acacia. "If he's nice, he shouldn't be." *I'll have a talk with her. It better not be a problem. This place is perfect.*

Anna stood up. "Well, come along and have a look at the room, and see if you think it will do for you and your sisters. If it suits, all I'll ask extra is that you kick in a little for groceries, if you plan on taking meals here."

"Oh, sure we will! And don't worry, we don't eat much, and we don't take up a lot of space. You'll hardly know you have extra borders."

She'd just let the curtains drop back over the window in the parlor when she heard a rustling, scraping noise. She knew what it was immediately--Milda had climbed out her bedroom window into the spreading branches of the great elm that grew beside the house. Even when she was a child the tree had been large enough for her to try the same stunt. Her parents hadn't been very tolerant. Those night time escapes had contributed to their reasons for 'sending her away for help'.

The rustling continued, then there was a faint thump. *The girl is light on her feet. I wonder why she felt the need to sneak out?* She went back to the kitchen. The front bell rang again a few minutes later as she was slipping the second poundcake into the oven.

This time the girl on the front porch was a symphony in black and white, with Dutch doll shiny black hair. The eyes were the same pale blue as Milda's, but the features seemed sharper. Or was that merely the slighty sly expression? "Hello, I'm Naresha, Milda's sister? You must be Mrs. Collins."

"Not Missus, dear. Come in." The girl whispered past her, and Anna saw that she was wearing satin ballet type slippers. *She's light on her feet, too.*

Naresha accepted a cup of coffee, "Strong enough to float a mouse, if you can, darling. I work in The Cuppa, and I swear, what they call coffee, I call hot water."

"Where's the other sister--Acacia, was it?"

Naresha made a vague gesture. "She had a few things to take care of. I think she'll be bringing a few groceries, as a starting present."

"Goodness, you girls just got here. There's no need for that."

"We pull our weight." She finished her coffee, and got up. "I'll just go see if Milda's awake yet."

"Are you girls going to be comfortable? That's a big bed, but three of you..."

"It will be fine." She smiled. "We like to cuddle when we sleep." She went upstairs.

Later Anna was taking the poundcake out of the oven. It looked perfect, but then so had the others--till she cut them. She heard one of the girls moving upstairs. That was one thing about this old house, you could usually tell almost exactly where someone was in it. Sound seemed to travel through the old floorboards. It had to be one of the girls--Colin wouldn't be back till later.

The footsteps stopped, and she smiled, thinking of the two girls snuggling together on the old bed. Then the doorbell rang again. "One, two, three. Let's see what we have this time." Anna found herself blinking at the young woman standing on the porch, giving her a cheeky grin. "Oh, my!"

"Yeah, I know. No, we aren't triplets." Once again, aside from the hair color and style, the main difference was in the girl's voice, and her attitude, how she carried herself. This one had Naresha's self-confidence, but with a heavy dose of what her father would have termed 'brass balls'.

Besides her suitcase, Acacia was juggling a large paper bag. "I got some perishables that ought to get put away."

"Really, dear, you shouldn't have."

"Sure, I should." She unloaded the bag. "Milk, eggs, butter... real butter, cause of your baking. And Sparkle sugar, so you don't get oogey-in-the-middle cakes anymore."

"You're very thoughtful."

"That's me--quiet, thoughtful, and serious." She crossed her eyes, and Anna was startled into a giggle. Acacia grinned at her. "I'll just trot on up and put my stuff away." She briefly rubbed Anna's arm. "I think we're gonna get on just fine here. Milda already thinks a lot of you." Anna followed her out to the hall and watched as she bounded up the stairs.

She was just slicing the second cake when she heard one of the girls come down stairs and enter the kitchen behind her. "Did it come out right this time?"

Startled, Anna turned around to find Milda looking over her shoulder. She glanced from the girl to the empty hallway beyond, then back to the girl. *I heard you leave the house, and you didn't come back in. That... that's not possible.* She said slowly, "Yes, dear. It turned out beautifully tender and moist, but not the least gummy."

"Good. I knew the sugar change would work." She tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear again...

...and Anna saw a whisp of blonde hair beneath the red. She looked at the girl's face sharply, and had a sudden sense of vertigo. It was as if a series of filters were flicked quickly over the girl's face, subtle changes flickering so quickly that they were scarcely noticable. "Milda?"

The flicker came again, and for a moment she saw the shrewdness of Naresha and the hardness of Acacia peering from Milda's gentle eyes. "Yes, Miz Collins?"

Anna stared a moment more, then said slowly, "If you don't mind, dear, I'd rather not go by that name. It sounds like my mother, and... and we didn't get on well."

"What should we call you, then?"

"Why don't you just call me Nana, dear? Almost everyone does."