Twelve
A mere two minutes after his mother, Wilhelmine, and two other sisters, Eloise and Tilda, came barreling into the entranceway, Rhenick found himself being hauled into the sitting room, Coraline using somewhat of a sailor’s grip to keep him moving at a fast clip. After shoving him onto a striped green-and-cream–colored chaise, she told him to stay put before she dashed out of the room again, clearly anxious to rejoin everyone else, who’d said they were repairing to the kitchen to request some coffee and treats.
In the Whittenbecker family, coffee and treats were considered a must in any unusual situation, and given that he’d never experienced a harrowing incident before, he wouldn’t be surprised if an entire feast showed up at some point in response to what his family would certainly see as an unexpected disclosure.
“Did you get sent in here because you’re in trouble too, Uncle Rhenick?” a voice asked from across the room.
Rhenick glanced around and discovered Edwin, Tilda’s son and the only boy who’d been born into his family since his birth some twenty-eight years before, sitting in a small chair in the far corner of the room, his little five-year-old shoulders slumped and looking decidedly dejected.
“I’m here because your grandmother is probably even nowdevising the best way to go about interrogating me and didn’t want me to be privy to whatever strategy she’s going to put into play,” Rhenick said.
Edwin’s nose wrinkled. “What’sinterrogatingmean?”
“Asking questions.”
“What is Grandmother gonna ask you questions about?”
“My harrowing day.”
Edwin’s nose continued wrinkling. “What’sharrowingmean?”
“Disturbing.”
His nephew nodded. “I’ve had a harrowing day then too.”
“How so?”
An exaggerated sigh was Edwin’s first response to that before he leaned forward. “Hattie punched me.”
Rhenick blinked. “Your twin—as in sweet little Hattie—punched you?”
“She’s not as sweet as everyone thinks,” Edwin muttered. “You can ask Malcolm. He’ll tell you I’m not wrong.”
“Malcolm’s a beagle. It might be difficult for him to tell me anything.”
“All you have to do is take one look at him this evening to know what he’s thinking because Hattie stuffed him into a doll dress and tied a bonnet on his head.”
“Your mother used to put hats on my pony when we were children and also enjoyed tying ribbons in his mane.”
“Bet she didn’t do thatandput flowers in all the rifle barrels of your toy soldiers.”
Rhenick refused a grin. “That very well might have been crossing the line, but I’m not exactly sure why, if Hattie punched you, you’re sitting in the naughty chair and not your sister.”
“No one knows that Hattie punched me ’cause I’m no snitch,” Edwin said. “I put myself in trouble because I wanted to punch her back, but...” His shoulders took to slumping again. “You told me that boys always have to treat girls, eventheir sisters, with the most udderly respect, so I’m gonna sit here until I don’t feel like punching her.”
“I think I used the phraseutmost respectinstead of udderly,” Rhenick began, “but I’m very proud of you for making the decision to take some time to gather your temper instead of giving in to the urge to punch Hattie.”
“I’m still mad at her.”
“Perfectly understandable, and know that I’ll have a talk with Hattie because I have a feeling she knows you’ve been told you’re not supposed to punch girls and she might be using that to her advantage, but...” Rhenick stopped talking and glanced to the door when the sound of feet marching in unison down the hallway reached him. “I think my interrogation squad is approaching.”
“Think if I stay here with you, that squad will start askin’ me questions ’bout what I’m doing in the naughty chair?”
“You know they will.”
“I’m suddenly not feeling like punching Hattie anymore,” Edwin proclaimed as he jumped from the naughty chair and scrambled for the door.
Unable to help but grin at his nephew’s rapid retreat, Rhenick rose to his feet right as his mother breezed into the room and made a beeline for him. After helping her get settled on the chaise, he turned to his sisters, his grin widening as he watched them jostle one another around, looking quite as if they’d joined a game of musical chairs as they went about the business of trying to claim the most comfortable chairs for themselves.
