Chapter 4

To say it was uncomfortable in the kitchen, when Bobby ushered Agatha Roberts into it, is a bit of an understatement. He explained that he’d offered her a room at the B&B while her furnace was being installed.

The twins were back at work now, their own infants part of Renee’s collection of children. The latest customers of the B&B had left that morning, climbing into their car with a satisfied wave at Mirriam, to go on their way. They had praised the accommodations, both for the service and because it wasn’t any more expensive than staying in town, when the meal was factored in. Mirriam had been reading a magazine at the kitchen table when Bobby and Agatha arrived.

“You ... want to stay here?” Mirriam’s voice was full of suspicion.

“I have to,” said Agatha, her voice tight.

“There are complications,” said Bobby, trying to be helpful.

Mirriam looked at her son, who was standing closer to the woman than she would have expected. Her suspicions flared even more. Surely he hadn’t gotten involved with this woman! Bobby saw the thunder clouds gathering in his mother’s eyes.

“I was trying to fix her furnace,” he said easily. “It turned out to be something I couldn’t do, so I helped her arrange to get a new one installed. One of her friends saw us together and ... well, it seems she has no place to stay now ... while the new furnace is being installed.”

Mirriam felt relief first. If she’d had more time to think about it, she might have wondered why Agatha Roberts would have called Bobby to come see to her furnace in the first place, but events had already outpaced the time she had to react. Mirriam Dalton was, at heart, a woman who believed that tolerance was the bedrock of truly civilized people. That she and her friends did not receive the benefit of tolerance made it no less ingrained in her own personality.

Putting aside her misgivings, she welcomed Agatha Roberts to her home.

Mirriam’s misgivings popped back up through the rest of the day, as she and Agatha did their best to be in different parts of the house. At one point Mirriam entertained thoughts that Agatha might be spying on them, trying to document something that could be used against them. She didn’t know what that might be or how anything could be used against them, but she worried.

When evening came, however, and the twins got back home, and it was obvious the woman wasn’t going out for supper, Mirriam simply put another plate on the table and invited Agatha to eat with them.

“That’s not part of your service,” said Agatha, looking up from the magazine she’d been leafing through. She didn’t know what to do with herself in this strange house.

“I know,” said Mirriam. “I’ve set a place. You can join us or not, as you wish.”

The fact was that Agatha’s stomach was already rumbling. She’d missed lunch. Bobby had disappeared about an hour after he’d brought her here, before she’d realized she should have brought her own car here instead of riding with him.

The twins were used to ignoring people who didn’t approve of them. They’d grown up with a kind of social armor that had let the disapproving looks bounce right off. And, both had their babies to tend to. Both girls were used to breastfeeding wherever and whenever they needed to. After everyone was seated, Matilda cooed into Joseph’s face “You’re a hungry little man, aren’t you!”

Mirriam casually said, “Feed him in the bedroom, please.”

Matilda looked up, then at Agatha, who was paying attention to the food on her plate.

“Sure,” said Matilda, rising.

Bobby came in while Matilda was walking out.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, washing his hands at the kitchen sink. “I wanted to get the fence finished over at the Tucker place before I stopped.”

“How is she?” asked Mirriam, referring to Louise Tucker, a woman of indeterminate age who lived in a tiny house on the edge of town.

“She’s fine,” said Bobby. “Her daughter hasn’t called her in a week and she was fussing about that. I took it that her daughter is sick and Louise is afraid she’ll outlive her.”

“What was wrong with her fence?” asked Mirriam.

“She’s got that little terrier. It found a place to get out of the fence and barked at the mail man. He squirted soapy water in its face and Louise got all upset. She says the dog is fifteen years old and can’t see well enough to bite anybody. She asked me to fix the fence to protect her dog.” He grinned.

Agatha sat listening to the chatter at the table. It was odd, somehow, though she couldn’t put her finger on why. The girls she remembered as being skinny thirteen-year-olds were all grown up now. She looked at them with their illegitimate babies, acting normal as pie. It was obvious they loved them and weren’t ashamed at all. That was mildly confusing to her, but the food was so good and the table talk so pleasant, that she just let it surround her.

It wasn’t until Mirriam offered her a piece of chocolate cake that she realized, with a start, what the oddity was. There hadn’t been any gossip! Oh, they had talked about people they ran into that day, but it was just things like, “I saw Mrs. Thompson today. Her bursitis is better,” or like what Bobby had said about poor old Louise and her dog. She also realized that she had expected something much different, unconsciously. She had expected them to try to make her an outcast ... just like Gladys or Ethyl ... or she would have done, had the roles been reversed. In her mind’s eye she could just see Mirriam Dalton sitting at a table with the other women, forced to be there for some unknown reason. Gladys and Ethyl would have used the opportunity to throw barbs at her about her loose-willed daughters or the fact that she had her own little boy, born, like all her daughters, out of wedlock.

She looked at Theodore, who was playing with his food. He’d been included in the conversation too. Both the twins and Bobby had asked him what he’d done that day. He’d proudly shown them pictures he’d drawn with crayons and they had all complimented him on them.

But these people hadn’t spoken harshly to her. True, very little had been directed at her at all, as the conversation ebbed and flowed, but she had the distinct impression that that was as much her own doing as theirs. She’d spent most of the meal looking at her plate instead of trying to get into the conversation.

Theodore looked back at her. He smiled.

After supper Bobby took Agatha back to her house to pick up her car and whatever else she needed.

“I hope you understand why I can’t take you anywhere while you’re staying with us,” he said. “My mother wouldn’t understand.”

Agatha felt the pins and pricks of being discriminated against for something she had no control over. It was merely an extension of Ethyl discriminating against her too. She suddenly felt very lonely.

“I have a confession to make.” It was out of her mouth before she realized it.

“What?” asked Bobby.

She had been about to blurt out her plan ... to tell him how she’d tried to destroy him. Her heart seized in her chest as she thought of being left alone in her cold house, no longer welcome anywhere in this town.

“Nothing,” she said.

“You sure?” he asked.

She thought frantically for something to say. “Your mother is nicer than I thought,” she said.

“Thank you,” he said.

“You’re nicer too,” she blurted.

“Thanks again.” He smiled at her and she felt even worse for having planned to ruin his life. “You want me to wait for you?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “I’ll be along shortly.”

“Okay,” he said. “While I’m in town I’m going to go get some ice cream. You know how they say pregnant women want ice cream and pickles? Not my sisters. Not while they were pregnant, anyway. Now that they’ve given birth they want all kinds of strange things to eat.”

The ease with which he shared this little piece of information about his family only shoved the hot spike of guilt further into Agatha’s belly. She turned away.

“Go get your ice cream,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’ll be along.”

It was full dark when she finally pulled into the yard and parked. She almost hadn’t come. She’d looked for more blankets, thinking to pile them all on the bed so she wouldn’t have to face the people she felt so guilty about. But she knew that not returning would be a slap in Mirriam Dalton’s face. After the hospitality she had offered, Agatha couldn’t slap her in the face. She was amazed that she no longer wanted to slap Mirriam Dalton’s face.

Even after leaving the house and getting in her car, she had been ambivalent. She’d driven around, more to have time to work up her courage than for any other reason. She’d driven by Ethyl’s house. The lights were on and the car was there. Ethyl, her friend for years and years, had lied outright to her.

That headed her car toward the farm.

And so, here she was, looking at the warm yellow light that spilled out of the windows of a house where, despite who she was, she was welcome.

She got out of her car and got the suitcase that she’d put some clothes in and a book to read. She turned and dropped the suitcase with a thump, jumping back with a terrified squeak. Bobby was standing right next to her!