Okay, there were two problems with her question and subsequent statement. I met Poppy’s eyes before she studiously looked away.
The bell tolled from outside, and the girls got to their feet. “School time,” Poppy said with glee. She was still at the age where school actually seemed kind of fun.
They gathered their bundle of books, clasped in what looked like straps, and headed out of the house. I wiped down the tables and straightened the chairs and benches. Then there was really nothing to do. I checked the girls’ room, but all their clothes were washed, folded, and put away.
In the boys’ room, it was a different story. In the interest of something to do, I considered washing their clothes until I came across a pair of boxers. I put everything back the way I found it. Something told me they wouldn’t appreciate the intrusion.
What I really wanted was to talk to my mother, but she’d been gone when I arrived. The girls hadn’t known just where she was off to. With nothing else to do until afternoon chores, I headed to the schoolhouse to work on reconciling the current bank statement.
It was in the numbers I found some peace. I wasn’t sure why, considering it was work that had unraveled my life. I stared at the phone a long time considering. It would be so easy to call Kalen, but I stayed strong.
By lunch, I was hungry and tired. My day had started at the crack of dawn, and I’d been at it almost as long as an average workday when my sister popped her head in.
“I thought you might be hungry,” Mary said.
I was able to school my features and not show any surprise. I took the basket of food she held out to me. There were some dried meat and fruits and a bit of cheese. A minute later, she returned with a cup of hot tea.
“Thanks.”
She smiled and gave a tiny shrug. “We’re sisters.”
I felt bad for assuming she had an ulterior motive.
“Are you and Turner together?” she asked.
And there it was. If I’d hoped that she’d truly come for me, I would have been disappointed.
“Who are you asking for? Margaret?”
She shrugged again, this time a bit more exaggerated. “Don’t you think she deserves to know?”
“I think it’s none of my business,” I said slowly, enunciating each word, hoping she’d hear my consternation. “That’s between her and him.”
“But don’t you see? You’re the problem. He hasn’t let go. He won’t truly give her a chance because of you. Just when they were getting close again, you show up.”
All pretense of sisterly love was gone. Her distain for me was once again evident.
“I didn’t come for him,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed and her lips pinched, like she totally didn’t believe me. “You could have had him, but you didn’t want him. You left and now you’re back.”
The fact that she said it again annoyed me more because she was right. What was I doing? I tossed my hands up, because what could I say?
“They would have been married if you hadn’t come back that Christmas,” she tossed out.
“For your wedding,” I said. Mary had a way of stretching the truth to suit her purposes. “I didn’t make Turner do anything.”
“No, you didn’t,” she said with a sneer. “You just have a way of making the boys lose their heads over you like you’re the queen of men or something.”
“What is this really about?” I asked because the hate in her tone was off the charts. This was beyond petty jealousies.
“What’s going on in here?”
Mary and I turned to find Turner standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. My sister morphed into something sweet and her quick change bordered on nothing short of psychotic. “Nothing. I brought my sister some tea.”
She gestured at the cup before adjusting the sling that was across her body. “Can you hold him while I go outside and check on the kids? He’s a heavy sleeper. He shouldn’t be a problem. I know you never wanted kids,” she said to me.
I ignored her jab and focused on the quiet baby I hadn’t noticed before because I’d been focused on my sister’s sour face. She placed the bundle in my arms and the baby slept quietly. I cradled the tiny bundle in my arms, feeling a love that only comes from family. It was instant but sure. He was perfect and a little darling.
Turner got on his knees to kneel close to me. With gentle fingers, he brushed the wisp of hair from the baby’s forehead.
“What’s this about you not wanting kids?”
I’d hoped that he’d overlooked the dig my sister got in. I’d said that once when we were younger.
“It was just something I said in anger one of those times when we had to babysit instead of hanging out with everyone else.” I didn’t say that everyone else really just meant him.