Miriam told me they used to have a small staff to help maintain the estate, but with the German laws in effect, help isn’t much of an option, so I’ve been doing what I can to assist since she doesn’t need too much from me as she waits for her body to do what God intends for it do.
“You know, I think this is the longest I’ve been pregnant since Stefan,” she says, her words a nostalgic coo. “Eloise, that feisty little girl, she was in such a rush to be seen and heard that she arrived over a month early.”
“The more time the baby has in your belly, the better you’ll both be, even if you’re restless while you wait.”
Miriam takes my hand and holds it up to her cheek. “You’re a little angel, you know that? You’ve brought me so much relief. I’m not sure how I’ll ever be able to thank you enough.”
“A thank you isn’t necessary,” I tell her, “I’m going to go to town and check on my father, but I’ll be back soon. You are to stay put. No excuses.” I point a finger at her and squint an eye, trying not to laugh. In return, she rolls her eyes. A typical playful exchange between us.
The moment I turn to leave her bedroom, Miriam stops me.
“Rosalie…” she inquires.
“Yes? Can I get something for you before I leave?”
“No, no, don’t be silly. That’s what my little bell is for,” she says with a smirk. “It’s dark out and cold. I don’t want you to travel to town alone. Stefan can take Philip’s car and bring you to and from.”
“I don’t want to be a bother. I’m perfectly content on the bicycle you’ve lent me. There’s nothing for you to worry about,” I assure her.
“Are you truly going to make me use my motherly tone on you?” she presses. “If you don’t allow Stefan to take you, I’ll—well—I won’t promise to stay put while you’re gone.” She folds her arms across her chest as a checkmate.
“You’re vicious,” I hiss at her.
“Darling, I’m a woman living in a man’s world. There’s no other word I’d prefer to be called.” She takes her small gold bell from behind her teacup and rings it tersely. “Stefan!” Her shout is nearly as loud as the bell, perhaps louder.
A stampede travels up the stairs running to Miriam’s side. “Yes, Mama. Are you all right?” Stefan asks, a bit breathless as he grips his fingers along the door’s threshold. He spots me next and raises a brow—our most common form of communication.
“I need you take the car and take Rosalie home to visit her father. Wait there for her and bring her back when she’s through.”
“You want me to sit in an enclosed vehicle with this girl?” Stefan replies, his expression as serious as an owl’s stare.
“Stefan Jacob, how in God’s name can you be so?—”
“It’s just a joke, Mama,” he says, grinning.
“Miriam, it’s all right. I’ve become used to Stefan’s lack of wit.”
She stares between the two of us as if trying to solve a puzzle with no pieces left to place. “It seems you’re quite vicious too,” Miriam says to me with a proud smile.
“Do you even know how to drive?” I ask Stefan, settling into the toffee-brown leather seat of his father’s car.
“I’m resourceful,” he says with a shrug. “Shall I crank the top down?”
“Yes, in fact. I prefer frostbite with a nice view,” I say, my voice laced in sarcasm. And still, Stefan looks amused.
“You know, most girls would shriek at such a suggestion, not come back at me with this sarcasm.”
“Do you know most girls?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.
“Enough to know they don’t usually get into a car with a man who can’t drive,” he says with a chuckle.
“You said?—”
“I’m resourceful,” he repeats.
“I dated a ‘resourceful’ boy once,” I say, glancing out the window. “Turned out to be a common thief.”
“I had a girlfriend like that once too,” he says, easing the gearshift forward. “She stole my favorite hat, and most of my patience.”
