I sat, my mouth agape. Grandma Olivia told her about my kissing Cary?
"Don't keep your mouth open like that. It's not only impolite, it's unbecoming."
"Kissing in public is showing affection, wouldn't you agree? Let's move on," she said standing. "Today we want to concentrate on eating."
"Eating?"
"Mealtime manners, my dear. Please, follow me to the dining room."
I rose and started toward the door.
"Always permit the older person to leave first," she instructed. Embarassed, I stopped and allowed her to walk out first. "Please, come along," she said. "There is no need to wait that long behind me."
I shook my head and followed her to the dining room, feeling like a puppy being housebroken. As we passed the stairway, I noticed Loretta standing in the shadows, gazing down at me. Her face was shrouded in the gloom, and I could only wonder whether Loretta would turn out to be my only friend in this cold and heartless home. Or would she, too, prove to be another of Grandma Olivia's minions, too frightened to do anything but her bidding?
If only I knew I could trust Loretta, I would reach out to her and tell her to watch closely, I was about to beat Grandma Olivia at her own game.
My first opportunity came at dinner that night. As I headed toward the dining room, I heard voices in the parlor and paused by the doorway in time to hear Grandma Olivia say, "He's become impossible, a blithering idiot. I can't permit him to be seen in public anymore. I want you to call in some favors and put him at the head of the list, Nelson."
"But I thought the doctor said that might only exacerbate his condition," Judge Childs replied.
"What about my condition? Don't you think it's been more than exacerbating for me?"
I stepped forward and the Judge saw me.
"Oh, Melody!" he exclaimed getting up to greet me.
I held out my hand the way Miss Burton had instructed, standing erect and holding out my arm fairly stiffly to prevent him from embracing me. I was uncomfortable with him showing me any affection in front of Grandma Olivia. I knew that if she suspected the relationship I was developing with my grandfather she would destroy it as quickly as she had my fragile bond with Grandma Belinda.
"Good evening, Judge Childs," I said. "It's nice to see you again."
He paused as if struck dumb for a moment and then smiled and took my hand for a very quick greeting, glancing at Grandma Olivia as he did so. She nodded approvingly.
"I'm happy to see you've come back."
"Thank you," I said with a tight smile, hoping he would go along with my ploy.
"Er . . . we were just . . . relaxing before dinner," he explained with some awkwardness.
He looked as dapper as ever, albeit a little older, grayer, his face a bit thinner. He wore a navy sports jacket and khaki pants, a striped cravat tied loosely around his neck.
"Isn't Grandpa Samuel coming to dinner?" I asked. "I haven't seen him all day."
"No," Grandma Olivia said sharply. "His condition is worse. The doctor will be seeing him in the morning."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked, wishing I could will Grandpa Samuel well again.
"There is nothing any of us can do," she replied dryly. Just then, Loretta came to the doorway, and with a small curtsey announced dinner was ready.
"Finally," Grandma said, rising. Judge Childs held out his arm to 11er and she took it quickly, the both of them heading for the doorway. I stepped aside to let them leave first and then quickly followed them down the corridor.
"You must tell me about your trip West," the Judge said when we were all sitting at the table. "Perhaps you can come by one day to visit," he added, after throwing a nervous glance at Grandma Olivia.
"I'd like that, Judge Childs," I said, unfolding my napkin and placing it in my lap. Grandma Olivia studied my posture as I sat straight, my spine pressed firmly against the back of my chair.
As soon as the soup was served and Grandma Olivia picked up her spoon, the Judge and I began to eat. Except for Grandma Olivia's house, I had never eaten anywhere where there were so many pieces of silverware next to the plate. Miss Burton had explained that we always start with the implement of each type that is farthest from the plate. We ate quietly for a moment, Grandma Olivia and I eyeing each other. When the level of our soup became too low for the spoon, Grandma Olivia scraped the bottom of her soup dish, loud enough to be heard.
I tipped mine, lifting the near edge and pointing the bowl away from myself.