“We’ll have a proper catch-up later,” she whispered. Then she marched around the table with her head held high, as regal as a queen.
“Don’t worry about that, Cartwright,” she said with a grand wave of her hand. “Bring out the next course.” The footman gave a little bow of relief and scurried out of the room.
“Sorry, Father,” Delia said as she smoothly took her seat.
He grumbled in response, but the presence of my sister had lightened the atmosphere considerably. The rest of the meal passed in a flash, as Delia asked about our journey and how the children were settling in. She even offered a few suggestions for things Tommy might like to see while we were visiting. Dolly chimed in every now and then as well, but my parents remained noticeably silent for the remainder of the meal.
When dessert was finally brought out, I was delighted to see that it was apple charlotte.
“My favorite! I didn’t think you remembered,” I said to my mother.
She gave me a blank look. “I didn’t. Cook planned the menu. She must have done it since you were coming.”
Delia let out an indelicate snort into her water glass. “Leave it to Cook to know Minnie better than you.”
“Please send my regards to the kitchen,” I said brightly to the footman, hoping to dispel another confrontation between my mother and sister, who were now staring daggers at one another.
The footman bobbed his head and rushed out of the roomas soon as the charlotte was served. For a fleeting moment, I very much wished I could have joined him, but consoled myself with a bite of cake. It was just as good as I remembered.
Luckily, the dessert captured everyone’s attention, and for a few blessed minutes, silence prevailed once more until we finished.
“Shall we all move to the parlor,” my mother began, before fixing her eyes on Delia. “Or do you have some scandalous party you can’t bear to miss?”
Delia calmly dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “Not tonight, Mother. I want to visit with my sister. But don’t worry. There is something on for tomorrow.”
Mother made a hum of disapproval in response and rose from her chair. From across the table, Delia caught my eye and winked. She really was quite cheeky. And while I could certainly sympathize with our mother to an extent, I found myself smiling back at her.
As we entered the parlor, I braced myself for another long stretch of silence, but to my surprise—and, frankly, relief—the children were waiting for us. Tommy was seated on the carpet by the hearth, playing a game of checkers with a girl about his own age, who must be Dolly’s daughter, Franny, and right beside him was John. I couldn’t help smiling as Tommy patiently explained the rules to his cousins.
“Thank God they’re here,” Delia murmured beside me.
I gave my sister a sympathetic smile, but before I could respond, the children took notice of us, and Tommy scrambled to his feet. “Mama! I have cousins!” he exclaimed in delight as he ran over to me.
“Yes, darling, I know. And this is your aunt Delia, my sister.”
He stared at her in fascination. “Are you older or younger?”
“Tommy!” I chastised, just as Delia burst out laughing.
“Younger.Muchyounger,” she added.
But Tommy remained quite serious. “Was my mother a good older sister?”
The question took me by surprise.
“Yes,” Delia answered immediately. “The very best.”
Tommy bowed his head. “My sister, Cleo, says I’m annoying.”
“Well, do you perhaps do things to annoy her on purpose?” Delia asked.
The corner of his mouth lifted in an impish smile. “Sometimes,” he admitted.
She gave him a knowing look. “Then you can’t really blame her, can you?”
“I suppose not,” Tommy said, with a shrug. Then he turned back to Franny and John.
“Come and meet my mother,” he beckoned.
