“It looks like a palace to me.” The wife’s eyes brimmed with tears.
“The bed is comfy,” Tuesday said, retrieving extra blankets and pillows. “You can make pallets for the children. Fill the tub with hot water, I don’t mind.” She smiled at the little ones. “There are plenty of towels on the bathroom shelves.”
Tears streamed down the woman’s dirty cheeks. She looked to be no more than twenty-three or four. “What can I do to repay you?” She spoke so earnestly. “I do washing and ironing. Ain’t a woman alive who wouldn’t give over her ironing. Maybe some mending?”
“She’s good with needle and thread.” The husband was gangly, with long limbs and an awkward stance, but Tuesday reckoned she’d never seen such kind eyes. There was a sadness too. Folksprobably took advantage of him. Eyes do reflect the soul. “I can do any sort of mechanical work. I noticed the worn floorboards as we passed your lobby.... Get me some lumber and I can have those fixed right up for you.”
“He can, Mrs. Knight. He can fix just about anything.”
“Please call me Tuesday.”
“Tuesday?” The man sounded amused. “Y-your name is Tuesday Knight?”
“It’s my married name, but I guess the good Lord thought I needed a sense of humor and a bit of humility.” Tuesday pressed her hand on his arm. “How about a hot bowl of my famous bean soup, some bread and butter, and hot chocolate?”
The wife laughed. “Sounds like a feast for a king.”
The husband cleared his throat. “Thank you, ma’am. Much obliged. We’re Norvel and Elise Brandley. This here’s our boy Mikey, our daughter Sissy, and baby Elias.”
Outside the room, Tuesday fell against the wall and pressed her hand over her nose and mouth, muffling a soft sob. But for the grace of God—
“Tooz?” She glanced through her tears to see Leroy coming her way. “What’s the matter?”
“Goodness, Leroy. You startled me.” She wanted to run into his arms, but his long absence frosted her affection. “So you finally decided to stop in, say hello?” She avoided him as she started across the rink toward concession, to the small kitchen with a two-burner hot plate, refrigerator, and popcorn machine.
“Don’t bust my chops, babe. I’ve been working.”
“A phone call wouldn’t go amiss, Lee.” She’d installed a phone at the rink last year. “Or a letter. You do know how to write a letter, don’t you?” She’d stopped counting the months since she’d heard from or seen him. Was it May or June? Every year, he wandered farther and farther away from home.
“You get my bank drafts, don’t you?”
“Money. It’s always about money with you.”
“Excuse me, but I don’t understand this complaint. I’m doing my job, supporting my family.”
She swung around in the middle of the rink. “You’re never home, Lee. That’s my complaint. I’m raising our boys alone. They’re fifteen and thirteen—the age they need their daddy to teach them to be men.” She gestured to the Man’s image looking down on them from the other side of the rink. “Though I thank Immanuel you’re not around to teach them to be like you.” She started toward the kitchen again but paused with another thought. “Is there someone else? Hmm? Tell me. Do you have a woman on the side? Maybe other children?”
“Ah, for pity’s sake, Tooz, you think I’m crazy?” He reached for her hand, but she tucked it behind her back. “I value my life too much. I know you’d knock me into eternity if I ever stepped out on you.”
“So you’re not messing around? A young, virile man like you isn’t findingcomfortin some other woman’s bed? Because you sure aren’t finding it in mine.”
“Your bed is the only bed I want to lie in, Tooz. But I’m here now and you’re fighting me.”
“I’m having my say. Besides, you’re only here cause your hoodlums, your so-called ‘boys,’ need a meal and a bed, or some doctoring.” She jammed her finger into his chest. “You can’t just roll in and out of here whenever you want, Lee. We’re not your puppets or pets, we’re your family. I’m your wife. I have a say in how things go in thisrelationship.”
“You don’t think I know that, Tuesday? I’m scared of you half the time. My crew won’t even come in here.”
“Best thing you’ve ever said to me.” She stormed toward the concession in the corner of the rink and plugged in the hot plate. While the soup heated up, she scooped butter from the tub into a small bowl for the corn bread.
“Fill that pot with milk, will you?” She pointed to the copper pan hanging from a hook under the cabinet. “For hot chocolate.”
“Can you make some for the boys—er, fellas I got with me?”
“Fine, but they sleep outside. I don’t want them bothering that sweet family.”
“It’s cold, Tooz. The wind off the water is bone chilling. How about they sleep in our barn?”
“There’s no hay.” It’d been two years since they kept cows for milk and meat. Without Leroy, the chores became too much for her and the boys.
