Eventually you get too tired for such things. It’s easier to simply accept the days as they come.
Since today isn’t a market day, Lorraine and Aria sleep in late and then go to the village café for a long lunch. I’m just as happy for them to be out of the house. Otherwise,one or the other might take it on herself to supervise my work.
It’s late afternoon before I finish, and they still haven’t returned. Sometimes they pay visits to other women in town. That’s probably what they’re doing today.
I have a small cot in my “room,” which is in reality nothing more than an empty corner of the kitchen near the old, unused woodstove. No matter how much I clean it, the soot has never fully gone away. I occasionally still find a trace of the ashes on my clothes.
When Annabelle moved out, Lorraine declared that we could all now have our own rooms. Which meant she kept my parents’ room, Aria took my and Annabelle’s room, and I got this.
I was so relieved to be able to sleep away from Aria that I didn’t even complain.
I’m sitting on my cot with my back to the wall when Lorraine and Aria return. I can hear their excited chatter even before they burst into the kitchen in a flurry of hair and fabric and noise.
“What are you doing, girl?” Lorraine says, frowning when she sees me. “Surely you don’t have so little to do that you lounge in the middle of the day?”
“I’m mending,” I tell her, lifting my favorite blue dress, although it was quite clearly in her eyeline before. “I just finished all the laundry.”
“Good. Then get up and get busy. Rest time is over. We have a guest coming for dinner.”
“Okay.” I tie off my thread before I set down the dress and get up. I wonder which of their obnoxious friends will be making my evening worse. “How many?”
“Just one. Aria’s man will be joining us, so you need to be on your best behavior and make sure dinner is perfect.”
“Okay,” I say again, surprised but not disappointed.
Mason has never come over to the house before. Maybe they’re actually moving forward on the engagement.
At least he’s never been rude or grabby with me.
Since dinner needs to be fancy, I go out to make a round through the village center, using the last of our week’s grocery credits on steak, potatoes, and asparagus—and then on a whim grab a small slice of blue cheese.
I’m whipping the potatoes with the butter and cheese when Mason arrives. I can’t see him since the kitchen door is closed, but I can hear the shrill sound of their excitement at his entrance.
He seems like a decent sort, but I simply can’t respect a man who chooses to put up with all that for no other reason than to nab a pretty wife.
The voices continue excitedly for several minutes—Lorraine’s and Aria’s, that is. It doesn’t sound like Mason has even said a word yet.
I’m grilling the steaks when Lorraine’s voice is suddenly louder and clearer. “There’s no reason to go in there,” she’s saying. “It’s probably a mess because that girl can’t keep a room even moderately clean.”
I whirl around in surprise to see Mason standing in the doorway of the kitchen, eyeing me soberly. His gaze runs up and down my body quickly before returning to my face.
“Hi,” I say, confused and rattled by his appearance.
He doesn’t answer. His eyes take a tour around the kitchen—all village standard—until they linger on my cot and neatly folded clothes in the sooty corner by the old woodstove.
Then his eyes shoot back to my face.
For no good reason, it embarrasses me. I flush and glance down at the neatly sliced bread on the counter. “Dinner will be ready soon.”
He still doesn’t answer. He also doesn’t move.
“Now you’ve had a tour of the house,” Lorraine says, dragging him away from the kitchen. “Come and chat with Aria. I’m sure you want to get to know her better.”
The kitchen door falls closed without his body to block it.
I shake my head and turn back to the steaks.
What an odd man.
