"I don't know," I said. "I hope not."
She raised her eyebrows.
"And why is that? Aren't you being treated well at my son's home? They gave you Laura's room, I understand, and you're even wearing her things, aren't you?"
"Yes, I'm being treated well," I said quickly. "I just meant I would like to be with my mother. I miss her."
She smirked. "A girl your age should have a home and not be living out of a car mining on someone's pipe dreams," she muttered.
"We had a home and we'll have another one," I said, my voice full of defiance.
"What kind of home did you have in West Virginia?" she asked, not intimidated by my tone of voice.
"We lived in the trailer park. Daddy worked very hard in the coal mine. I never went hungry."
"And your mother, what did she do?"
"She worked in a beauty parlor."
"That figures," Grandma Olivia said. "That woman could wear out a mirror."
Before I could respond, Grandma turned quickly to call the maid. "The adults will have coffee in the sitting room, Loretta."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Bring out some ice cream and some of the petit fours for the children," she ordered.
Children? I looked at Cary to see how he liked being referred to that way. He tucked the corner of his mouth in and gazed at the wall.
"Lucky for you that your Aunt Sara saved all of Laura's clothing," Grandma Olivia told me. "She always had such nice things."
"Mommy's sent for my things," I replied. I glanced at Aunt Sara and saw the hurt look on her face. "Although I am grateful for what Aunt Sara has given me to use. I'm just sorry about the
circumstances."
Grandpa Samuel nodded, his look softening. Grandma Olivia raised her eyebrows. "And what do you know about the circumstances?" she demanded.
"What? Well, I was told--"
"Olivia, must we go through this again?" Grandpa Samuel asked softly.
Grandma Olivia snorted. "Jacob says you can play the fiddle well," she said. I was shocked. Uncle Jacob had said something nice about me? "Maybe one day you'll come over and give us a concert," she added. My jaw nearly dropped. Was she serious?
She stood up. "Let's go into the sitting room for coffee, Samuel," she commanded.
"Right, dear," he said rising.
The maid brought out three dishes of ice cream for Cary, May, and me and served them with a plate of small cakes, the ones Aunt Sara told me Laura had loved.
"Sorry, we only have vanilla ice cream," Grandma Olivia remarked. "Cary, you can show Melody the grounds when you're finished, and entertain yourselves outside. But don't track in any dirt. Make sure May understands," she concluded.
"Okay, Grandma," he said and signed
instructions to May.
"How is she?" Grandma asked, remaining at the table and looking at her with pity.
"She's doing very well, Grandma," Cary said, before his parents could reply. Grandma Olivia nodded, shook her head as if to drive the thoughts away, and led the adults out of the dining room.