"You would, would you? Who do you think you are continually offering your opinion as to what I should and shouldn't do in my house?" She flicked her stony eyes over me.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to . ."
"Just worry about yourself. There's plenty to do there," she said. "I'll be right back," she added, and left the room.
While she was gone, I finished eating. When she returned, she had a pail of water and a handful of rags in her hand.
"I brought you this so you could start cleaning this room. Do it as quietly as possible."
"I'll need more than one pail of water, madame," I said. She snapped her head back and lifted her shoulders as if I had slapped her.
"I know that, you fool. You'll start with this. You don't expect me to cart pail after pail of water up here, do you? Tonight you can dump this out with your chamber pot and bring up another pail of water along with your drinking water. I was just being nice giving you the first pail."
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound ungrateful," I said, which took the steel out of her spine. She didn't smile, but her eyes warmed.
"If you're finished eating, we have some very important matters to go over," she said.
"Certainly, madame." I turned, waiting.
She folded her arms over her chest and took a few steps toward the window. "I, as you know, have never been pregnant. I know as much about it as any woman my age should," she added quickly, "but there is nothing like the actual experience. That's true about everything, I suppose, but especially true when it comes to pregnancy."
I nodded, not sure what it was she was trying to say.
"If we are to make this work, have people believe me when I say I am pregnant, I had better behave as if I am. I know you're just about two months pregnant, right?"
"That's right, madame."
"Well," she said, and waited. When I didn't say anything, she snapped, "Tell me about it."
"Tell you? Where should I begin, madame?"
"At the beginning, where else? How did you find out you were pregnant?"
"Mama told me. I woke up nauseous and had to vomit. After it happened again, she asked me if I had missed my period."
"Yes?"
"I had and then she asked me if I was sensitive here," I said, indicating my breasts.
"Sensiti
ve?" She stepped closer. "Exactly what does that feel like?"
"It feels like my breasts are fuller. Sometimes they are tender and sore."
"Really?" she said, raising her eyebrows.
I felt odd describing these things to her. For the moment it seemed as though I were the adult and she were the younger woman. How could she appear so sophisticated in other ways but be so ignorant of womanly things? I wondered.
"Yes," I said. "Sometimes they actually hurt." Her eyes widened. "I'm also tired more often and find myself dozing off."
"Yes?"
"And I have to go to the bathroom more. . . urinate," I said.
"Did you throw up this morning?" she asked.
"No. Mama gave me some herbs that help me."