Since the storm had passed, the sun was now peeking from behind the clouds. Water dripped from the eaves, and the birds chirped outside. As I came to the bottom of the steps, the doorbell rang.
Ruth stood on the porch with her three small children—a big grin on her face—and my heart fell. I hadn’t realized she’d be here so soon. I glanced toward the dining room where Alice was probably waiting for breakfast.
How was I going to tell Ruth that Alice was staying with us?
My nephews saw me, and they also grinned as I opened the vestibule door. Peter was five and John was just three. Little Sarah was in her mother’s arms. She’d had her first birthday while we were away and had grown so much since I’d last seen her.
I forced a smile and opened the front door.
“Auntie Carrie!” the boys said as they ran toward me.
“Hello, sweethearts,” I told them, giving each a big hug.
Ruth looked exhausted. She was only twenty-nine, but she looked much older. Her skirt was wrinkled, no doubt from holding Sarah on her lap in the streetcar, her hair was disheveled, and she had dark circles under her eyes. Yet—she smiled at me andoffered me a hug with her free arm. “Welcome home. I hope we’re not too early. The children couldn’t wait to see their grandparents and aunt.”
I returned her hug, whispering in her ear, “Alice is here.”
Ruth’s arm tightened, and she held me longer than necessary. When she pulled back, I saw panic in her gaze. Panic and questions.
I didn’t want the children to hear or repeat something they shouldn’t, so I simply said, “She arrived soon after we got home yesterday, and I couldn’t stop her. Mother and Father offered her a place to stay.”
Ruth’s face paled, and she whispered, “Do they know who she is? How she claims to be connected to Andrew?”
I shook my head as I heard Mother approach.
“Are those my grandchildren?” Mother crouched in the foyer and put out her arms for Peter and John. They raced toward her, giggling with glee.
Alice appeared in the parlor doorway. She looked rested and refreshed in a floral-patterned dress, her hair in place, her porcelain skin without a flaw. She was a beautiful woman, a little younger than Ruth—but she didn’t carry the same burdens my sister-in-law carried.
“You’ve grown so much,” Mother said to the children, oohing and aahing over their suits and their haircuts.
Ruth stared at Alice, and Alice stared back. She clearly knew who Ruth was, and she looked just as pleased with herself as she had before. Perhaps even more so now.
But what was she after? Money? Attention? Fame? Or did she simply want to destroy our family?
“And Sarah,” Mother said, oblivious to the tension that had entered with Ruth and the children. She reached for the baby, but Sarah seemed shy and scared. It had been a few months since we saw her last, and she buried her face in her mother’s shoulder.
“That’s alright,” Mother said as she placed her hand on Sarah’s back. “She’ll warm up to me soon. Won’t you all come in for breakfast?”
“Oh no.” Ruth quickly shook her head. “We—we can’t stay.”
“But, Mama,” Peter said. “You told us we could play at Grandmother’s.”
Ruth put her protective hand on Peter’s shoulder, clutching Sarah on her hip. She swallowed and said, “I’m sorry, Petey. I forgot we have an appointment this morning.”
“Must you go?” Mother asked Ruth. “I haven’t seen the children in months. And Father hasn’t had a chance to see them yet, either.”
“I’m sorry, Mother Baldwin,” Ruth said, starting to back away. “We can’t stay.”
“Oh, but you haven’t met our guest yet,” Mother said in an attempt to stall her. “Ruth, this is Miss Pierce. And Miss Pierce, this is our daughter-in-law, Mrs. Andrew Baldwin.”
“How do you do?” Alice asked Ruth, showing no sign of discomfort.
Ruth nodded but couldn’t speak or meet Alice’s unwavering gaze.
Mother frowned. Ruth had always been unfailingly kind and thoughtful.
Right now, she looked like she might faint.
