Whitefern (Audrina 2)

“Call her what you want. I know what to expect.”

“She’s very, very sensitive, Mrs. Matthews. She has the body of a woman but the emotional development of a little girl.”

She turned to me, the corners of her mouth drawn in again as she pressed her upper lip over the lower one before speaking. “I think I’ve been doing this long enough to know how to handle a pregnant girl regardless of her mental and emotional age. The physical aspects aren’t different. Shall we get on with it? According to Mr. Lowe, you’re not even certain she’s pregnant, and it could be that this is all idle chatter.”

“I am sure of it, I’m afraid,” I said. “I don’t have medical training like you do, but there are things a woman can sense.”

She raised her eyebrows. “We’ll soon see.”

I nodded and led the way to the stairs. After I started up, I realized she wasn’t following. She had paused at the bottom and stood looking up. “Something wrong?” I asked.

“Any bedrooms downstairs?”

“There are two in the rear of the house, but neither one has been used for ages, decades, really. They were meant for servants, and we’ve never even thought of them as part of the house. They don’t have fireplaces and haven’t even been cleaned for ages. Why?”

“I don’t fancy climbing up and down the stairs between the kitchen and her room as many times as I might have to. If she is indeed pregnant, at one point I’ll be attending to your sister closely, and it will be easier if she is down here. It’s also wise to avoid any possibilities of falling when you’re pregnant, and I think we both know that stairways can be deadly. If she’s pregnant, you’ll put her in one of the rear bedrooms,” she declared with the tone of a fait accompli.

“But . . . they don’t even have heat. The central heating my father had installed didn’t provide for them.”

“You’ll get portable heaters. Really, this is not a world-shattering problem.”

“It will be for Sylvia. She is very comfortable in her room. She’s been there ever since she was brought home from the hospital. It’s not easy for her to adjust to changes.”

She made a humph sound. “Imagine the changes that come over you when you get pregnant. She’ll have a lot to adjust to. This should be the least of it.” She started up after me, glaring at me when I didn’t move.

“What about her going up to her studio to do her art?” I asked.

“Are you serious? Send her up another flight of stairs for a hobby?”

“It’s not a hobby for her. It’s very important to her.”

She sighed deeply and shook her head. “Bring her art supplies down to her room.”

“But—”

“Am I to see her or not?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, and continued up quickly. I led her to Sylvia’s bedroom. When we entered, Sylvia was at her vanity table. She had brushed her hair and tied it with a red ribbon. Now she was putting on lipstick, too.

“What is she doing?” Mrs. Matthews asked. “We’re not taking pictures for a maternity magazine.”

“Sylvia, don’t you remember I said Mrs. Matthews was coming to examine you this morning?”

“Oh, yes, Audrina.” She smiled. “I just wanted to look nice for her.”

Mrs. Matthews’s thin, mostly gray eyebrows knitted, and then she stepped further into the room. “Hello, Sylvia,” she said. “I’m Helen Matthews. I’m here to see what’s going on with you.”

“We’re having a baby,” Sylvia said.

“Perhaps,” Mrs. Matthews said, not picking up on the “we.” “Let’s check you out. Just lie down on your bed, please. Nothing will hurt, I promise.”

“It hurts when the baby comes out, but it doesn’t last long. Papa told me that.”

“Hopefully that’s so,” Mrs. Matthews said. She looked at me and almost, I thought, smiled.

I stood back to watch her. Sylvia watched her, too, her eyes wide with interest after Mrs. Matthews had put on plastic gloves. Sylvia’s face was full of surprise, but she did not utter a sound when Mrs. Matthews had her bend her legs and spread them.

“Can you see the baby?” Sylvia asked. I brought my hand up to cover my smile.