Whitefern (Audrina 2)

“Are you going?” I asked. I held my breath in anticipation.

“My work here is finished. Your sister is well, and you seem quite capable of caring for the baby.”

“Does Arden know you’re leaving?”

“Of course,” she said, and put her cup in the sink. She flashed a smile and picked up her suitcase. “You are not fond of listening to my advice,” she said, standing right in front of me now, like a grade-school teacher in front of a student. “But I’ll give it to you anyway. Don’t dwell on what happened here. Don’t ask too many questions about it. Tell yourself nothing unusual occurred. A baby was born at home. It happens more often than people think it does. I have worked for families who had errant teenage daughters and kept their pregnancies secret. The girls even gave birth and returned to school a day or two later. The families gave the babies to church orphanages or such. Sometimes, couples who are having trouble having their own child adopt the baby. You live here in this mansion, fortified against the real world, and have no idea what really goes on out there. My advice is to keep it that way. You, my dear Audrina, are one of those women who are more comfortable with fantasy than reality. Your husband understands that. You’re lucky. Other women like you have husbands who are far more intolerant when it comes to their refusal to face hard and ugly things. It’s immature, of course, but as long as you’re not out there involved in the day-to-day struggles most of us face, you’ll do fine living in your own world. I wish you luck.”

“You have no idea who I am,” I said, shocked at her audacity.

She smiled. “Then maybe that’s for the best. Your husband knows how to reach me if there are any problems.”

“We’ll be taking Adelle to see Dr. Prescott now. He’ll handle any problems we might encounter.”

“What a relief,” she said, and started for the front door. I followed and watched her stop, turn, and look at the house again. “I do hope your husband follows through and gets you out of the past,” she said. Then she opened the door and left.

For a moment, it was like she had taken all the air in the house out with her. Then I felt myself relax. I took a deep breath and, with renewed energy, began the new day. The odd thing, actually amusing to me, was that Sylvia didn’t seem to notice Mrs. Matthews was gone. Perhaps she thought she had left to shop for us, but even later in the day, she never inquired about her whereabouts, and I said nothing to bring her to mind.

I couldn’t forget her, of course, not as easily as Sylvia apparently did. Once again, I found myself envious of my disadvantaged sister. It brought a smile, which brought another and another. Later, we sat outside on the rear patio with Adelle wrapped comfortably in my arms. Sylvia laughed at the squirrels and the rabbits and pointed to them for Adelle to see and appreciate.

“When will she talk and walk?” Sylvia asked me.

“Sooner than you think, I’m sure, but not for a while, Sylvia. I remember when you first did, and I remember you crawling around out here.”

“I don’t,” she said.

“That’s all right. Everything you did, Adelle will do, and that might remind you.”

She stood there smiling at the baby and me.

“What?”

“We’re lucky,” she said. I knew she was simply repeating something Arden or I might have said, but she said it as if she understood everything we had done together and everything that had happened. There wasn’t an iota of disappointment or regret in her voice or in her smile. I wondered if she even thought now of Mr. Price.

“Yes, Sylvia,” I said. “We are lucky.”

We went in to prepare dinner. Whenever we did this now, we brought Adelle in with us. Sometimes she slept through the whole process, but often I caught her awake, listening and watching. The sounds surely made her curious, I thought. She was going to be a bright child. She would have the advantage of people not assuming she was slow-witted. Right now, with the three of us there and all of us well, I thought I was the happiest I had been in a very long time.

As soon as Arden arrived, I told him Mrs. Matthews had left. He nodded.

“Why didn’t you mention it to me last night?” I asked. “I came down while she was having coffee and found her in her coat, with her suitcase packed.”

“I thought it best not to say anything until she actually left. There was the slight possibility that she might stay another day,” he said. For the first time in a long time, I sensed that he was lying.

“Dinner’s ready,” I said. The faster I forgot that woman, the better off I’d be, I thought, but there was one more thing to be discussed about her.

I waited until we had eaten and Adelle was sleeping again. Sylvia was in the kitchen finishing the dishes. Arden had gone into the Roman Revival salon and sat on the settee, smoking his pipe and reading one of his business magazines. He looked up when I entered but kept reading. I sat across from him and waited. Finally, he lowered the magazine.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“She’s gone. You made a promise, Arden.”

“Promise?”

“To tell me the great secret you knew about her, the thing you had to hold over her that would ensure that she would never reveal ours. I want to know it. If I had known while she was here, I might not have been so intimidated by her all the time.”

“Intimidated? You did what had to be done, just like I did, Audrina. And no one forced either of us. We knew it was best for Sylvia and for Adelle. Don’t start moaning and groaning about how horrible it was. It’s over.”

“Okay, it’s over. So tell me.”