"She'll steal the show," he said. "But I'd enjoy being robbed by that sweet face any day."
Somehow. Betsy heard that over her music and paused to grimace smugly at him. She pretends not to care about her father's affections. I thought, but she doesn't hide her envy and jealousy when he shows how much he loves Baby Celeste, What good can come of all this? I continued to wonder. Why wasn't Mama afraid of it all? It wasn't beginning with any promise of hope and goodness.
In fact the first night Betsy slept in our home was a disturbing disappointment for Mr. Fletcher because she stayed away with her new boyfriend. Dirk, all day and called to say she wouldn't be at dinner that night. She was going with friends to New York City and would be home late. Before Mr. Fletcher could oppose her, she hung up. He came into the living room, shaking his head, and described the short conversation to Mama and me. I had the sense this was the first of many sessions like this to come.
She speaks so quickly, I can barely manage to get a word in," he groaned. And if I start to complain or ask a question, she speaks over me. Her mother used to do that. I'm Sorry, Sarah."
I wondered if it was possible to estimate how many times over the next few months he would be apologizing to Mama for his daughter's behavior.
"Well, she knows her way home. Well leave the door unlocked and the lights on," Mama told him without the slightest note of annoyance in her voice.
He nodded and dropped his defeated body into
Grandpa Jordan's chair. He smiled with delight, commenting on how comfortable it was and how at home it made him feel. It made me wonder if marrying Mama would give him the ability to experience the spiritual powers in our home. Would he draw strength from them as she did? Mama glanced at me, her eyes twinkling. To my amazement she still looked happy about it all, even the impending problems Betsy would bring into the house.
I didn't wait up for Betsy. I was sure that Mr. Fletcher did. however. He didn't go up to bed until late, sitting by the windows in the living room so he could watch for car headlights. Finally. Mama coaxed him up the stairs and into their bedroom. It was nearly morning when I woke up to the sounds of Betsy returning.
She did little to mask her entrance. She shut the front door hard enough to shake the walls, then stomped up the stairs, deliberately rattling the balustrade.
Mr. Fletcher had probably not slept at all. The moment she reached the landing. I heard him step out and whisper loudly. "Do you realize what time it is and how much noise you're making? You'll wake the baby."
"Why should I care what time it is? I'm not going to work tomorrow. I can't help it if that old, rickety stairway creaks. This place is just a big shack."
"Betsy," he said sharply.
"Well, it is. Tell everyone I would like to sleep all day and no one should bother me." She went into her room and slammed her door closed.
I heard Mama call to Mr. Fletcher. "Come on back. Dave. Get some rest. You're going to work in a few hours."
He muttered under his breath and went back into their bedroom.
No one tried to be any quieter than usual in the morning to please the princess. If anything. Mama deliberately banged doors and slammed dresser drawers. She spoke loudly to Baby Celeste and plodded down the stairs making more noise than Betsy had coming up a few hours earlier,
Mr. Fletcher smiled at breakfast and shook his head, "It won't matter if we set off a bomb dawn here. When that girl sleeps, it would take a crane to get her out of the bed."
Today was his last day to work before the wedding. He was taking the next day off and then they were to be married. He would take the following day off and then return to work, saying his vacation time for when Mama decided they should take the trip. They thought it might be fun someday to drive up to Niagara Falls, just because it was the old-fashioned idea for a honeymoon. He had gotten some pamphlets and had them on the table in the living room, hopefully to get Betsy interested. When he had mentioned it before to her, she had complained about driving so far.
"I get nauseous in a car, and besides, what would I do?"
She smiled at him and me and Mama and added, "Why don't you two go and leave us at home. We can care for the baby, can't we. Noble?"
The very idea of it, of being alone with her in this house, made me shake inside.
"You have trouble taking care of yourself, much less an infant," Mr. Fletcher told her.
She didn't get insulted. She just laughed that taunting laugh of hers and flipped one of the brochures.
You can count me out of this," she declared firmly. "I'll stay here and watch over the plants. You'd trust me with that, wouldn't you. Mrs. Atwell?"
She loved to taunt Mama by calling her Mrs. Atwell instead of Sarah. I had no doubt that even after her father and Mama were married, she would still call her that.
"I think it would be nice if you started to call Sarah Morn," her father told her, and she shot him a look so furious, he was lucky her eyes couldn't launch darts.
"She's not my mom so why should I call her that?"
"She'll be the best mom you ever had." he replied. "I don't need a mother," she said, wagging her head.
"What do you need, Betsy'?" Mama asked her softly, her face full of interest.