Chapter 11
“SIT YOURSELF down,” Edna said when Alex stepped into the kitchen.
The late afternoon sunlight from the small basement window streamed behind Edna’s graying brown hair in an almost-angelic halo. If only Louis had been blessed with someone as kind to him after his mother had died as Edna had been to Alex when she’d moved to Watson Manor.
“I was just preparing trays of food for you and Mr. Dalton to eat in your rooms,” she added. “I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds, but seeing how pale you both were when you returned from the Godfrey’s, I expected neither of you would feel up to coming down to dinner. And even if you did, it wouldn’t hurt to get a little extra nourishment in you.”
Alex sat at the worktable in the same chair she’d often sat in when she was girl. “Where’s Cook?”
Edna ladled potato and clam chowder into a bowl she’d taken from atop one of two dinner trays. She set the bowl in front of Alex. “It’s her day off. You wouldn’t expect her to call a bowl of chowder an entire meal, would you?”
Alex smiled slightly and stared at her spoon. The steam from the chowder warmed her cheeks almost as deliciously as the clammy scent triggered its remembered taste. “No, I suppose not.”
“You’re upset,” Edna said.
“I’m fine.”
Edna sat in the chair across from her. “I’ve known you for a lot of years, my girl, and I know that look. You’ve gotten yourself into a mess that you don’t know how to get out of, haven’t you?”
Alex forced a laugh. “It’s nothing that serious.”
Edna’s gaze narrowed.
Alex dipped her spoon inside the thick chowder and slowly stirred it, cooling it. “How’s Louis doing?”
“Better than one might expect. He’s a strong lad. That’s all I can say.”
Alex froze at the tightness in Edna’s voice. She scrutinized the woman’s protruding eyes, her clenched jaw, her flattened lips. Had she guessed at Louis’s guilt? “What makes you say that?”
Red colored Edna’s face. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, I believe you do.”
Edna hastily rearranged the empty dishes on the tray Alex could only assume she’d meant for Rick. “Children do not have the kinds of nightmares he has for no reason.”
Alex touched her arm. “I don’t mean to upset you,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. I only thought, as his caretaker, you might have recognized—something like that. But we’ll keep it to ourselves, won’t we?”
“Of course, my girl.” Edna again rearranged the empty dishes then turned back to Alex. She looked her straight in the eyes. “But changing the subject from you to the boy isn’t going to work. What is it? Are you missing your outdoor adventures? Your preternatural work? Or—is it Mary?”
Alex lifted the creamy, steaming chowder to her lips and lowered it again. It was still too hot. “I wish I’d known what Uncle Henry wanted before I’d arrived.”
“So it’s Mr. Dalton.”
The tears she’d held back all day—no, since she’d first received the telegram—filled Alex’s eyes. She’d forgotten how easily Edna could read her expressions, forgotten how it felt to be so well known and loved, forgotten how quickly Edna could pull the truth from her heart. “How did you know?”
Edna’s expression pinched. “When Mr. Dalton arrived the first time, the day before you did, and when he said you’d require separate bedrooms, it was easy enough to see something wasn’t right.”
“You didn’t know about our separation until then?”
“Mr. Watson never spoke to me about it. Perhaps he didn’t believe it was my place to know.”
“I doubt that, Edna. He knows you love me. Heavenly stars, he let you raise me. Perhaps he expected Rick and I would mend things before there was any need to speak of it.” Alex brushed a large tear from the corner of her eye.
Edna handed her a damp dish towel.
“Rick and I were only friends when we married,” Alex said after she’d regained some of her composure. “I don’t know why I, or anyone, should be surprised things didn’t work out between us.”
“You have every right to be surprised, my girl. When two people marry, no matter the reason, they contract to love and care for each other as husband and wife for the rest of their lives.”
Alex stirred the soup again, but though the mild aroma warmed through her, her stomach clenched. She slid the soup bowl away from her.
Edna watched the movement. “Did he hurt you?”
“Yes.”
Edna inhaled. “He has a demon inside him. I did not know.”
“That’s not what I meant, Edna. Rick didn’t hurt me physically. He’s not a violent man. He—he did only what I told him to do.” Her lips trembled into a frown. “But it still hurts.”
Edna placed her hand over Alex’s. “Forgive an old woman for overreacting. What did he do?”
“There’s nothing to forgive. I should have thought before I spoke.” Alex quickly recapped the events of what she’d said to Rick and what he’d said to her that day he’d left her. “Edna?”
“Yes?”
“Is it possible to get over the pain?”
The corners of Edna’s eyes crinkled downward. “It might take a long time—years even. But eventually, when the hurt scabs over the pain will ease.”
“Do you forget?”
Edna shrugged and looked away. “I haven’t.”
But you’ve learned to live with it. Alex didn’t know where that thought came from, but when it came, she saw Edna with new eyes. Edna slipping her and Fay more cake than the cook believed was good for them. Edna standing between them and Aunt Pauline when their school assignments weren’t completed as perfectly as they should be. Edna sleeping on the floor in their room when lightning storms frightened them. Alex had always believed Edna was like Athena, the Greek goddess of war, but now she saw her more as an immovable shield. She had been, and judging by the determined kindness that now shone from her gray eyes, would always be Alex’s and Fay’s protector. No wonder Alex’s aunt and uncle had put her in charge of the girls’ upbringings. And yet, seeing her now through a woman’s eyes, she realized Edna must have faced her own hardships.
“Did you ever marry?” Alex said.
“Yes. A long time ago.”
“What happened?” Alex clamped her hand over her mouth. It wasn’t polite to ask a woman why she wasn’t married any longer. The stars knew she hated such questions after Rick had left, and they, technically, were still married. But even so, how could she not have heard of Edna having been married? “I’m sorry. I misspoke.”
“My husband died. And it’s no great secret, so you needn’t worry.”
“Did you have children?”
Edna’s eyes glazed. “They died as babies. A flu epidemic. It’s also what took their father.”
“I’m sorry.”
Edna stood. “I expect your chowder’s cold by now. Let me warm it for you.”
Alex frowned. Edna had held so much hurt inside her. Could Alex learn to be that strong as well? To still do good in spite of her pain? Alex sat taller in her chair. “I don’t feel up to eating right now. I’ll find something later if I get hungry.”
“Has that man upset you that much?”
That man? Alex swallowed. Edna’s bitterness was natural for someone who loved Alex as much as she did. After all, Alex had had an entire year to come to terms with her feelings and to learn to control her responses. Edna would do the same in time.
Edna patted Alex’s shoulder. “Try not to fret, my girl. Things have a way of working out.”
“I hope so.”
The woman pursed her lips, clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and gave Alex an appraising glance. “I dare say you’ve not only stopped eating more than is good for you but you haven’t been sleeping much either. Your eyes are redder than I’ve seen them since you first came to live in Watson Manor as a young girl. Tell you what—as
I said, Louis has been having nightmares the way he used to in his old home, and I promised him I’d teach him how to lock himself in the nursery. He didn’t want me to sleep on his floor the way you and Fay did.”
The sound of Louis’s sobs in the Godfrey’s cellar cringed through Alex. “That’s understandable. Locking the door, I mean.”
“Yes. But what I’m getting at is why don’t you go up to your room and relax for a while? After I’ve helped Louis, I’ll bring you a tray of food. Perhaps you’ll be hungry by then. And after you’ve finished eating, you can crawl into bed—make an early night of it.”
Alex nodded. It had been a long while since she’d felt so mothered. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt for her to relish it for an evening. “I suppose my problems will still be here in the morning.” Would Rick?
“Or maybe they won’t seem so bad.”
“Like lightning storms?”
“Yes.”
Alex stood and hugged Edna. “Thank you,” she whispered in her ear.
“You’re welcome, my girl.”
***