The Family Origin

Chapter Eleven: JOSEPH POV

 Clara quickly warmed to the idea of having Maisie in the home. She had been very apprehensive when I had carried Maisie's unconscious body into Miles's room. She remained concerned when Maisie was falling in and out of consciousness. After our first dinner all together, she was still worried. Now, she was smiling and full of excitement at the thought of having a wedding.

Miles did not say much to me while we worked outside. He was never one to speak, but his silence was more obvious than usual.

Maisie was alone in the house with Clara. I told her not to allow Maisie out of her sight, but Maisie was smart. She could find a way to attempt to climb out a window again. At irregular periods of time, I would go into the house. Clara was shocked at first because I was never inside during the day. She soon realized I was ensuring Maisie had not run away. Maisie did not attempt to fight or leave because she could not predict when I would be checking on them.

I was smarter than this girl.

During dinner, Maisie did not eat her food. She pushed the meat and potatoes around the plate with her fork. Miles watched her without saying a word. His eyes never left her as she avoided eating. He had never been so interested in a girl before. I was confident I had picked the right wife for my son.

Clara brought Maisie upstairs after dinner. Miles and I quickly changed out of our work clothes before preparing the living room for the wedding. We pushed the couch and table out of the way so that there would be space to stand. I straightened the knit blanket over the back of the couch. This was nothing fancy, but it would work. Miles crossed his arms over his chest as he stared out the window at the setting sun.

"Don't we need a pastor?" he asked.

"We don't need God," I said. Miles looked over his shoulder at me. "God left this family years ago."

"What is even the point of this then?"

"We're bringing Maisie into the family. She will officially be a Wilcox."

The stairs creaked as someone rushed across the house. I groaned, expecting it to be Maisie trying to escape. Clara rushed into the living room. She had changed into the dress she had always saved to wear to church on Sundays. Her eyes were wide, and strands of hair escaped her braid.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Why did you leave Maisie alone?"

"She is refusing to come downstairs," she said. "I tried, Joey. She is so upset."

"Is she ready?"

Clara nodded. I pushed past her and hurried to the stairs. Maisie was not in the hallway trying to escape through the window. I barged into Miles's room, but Maisie did not flinch. She was sitting on the edge of the bed with her head buried in her hands. She cried as her fingers curled into her scalp. Her blonde hair was twisted and pinned, and she wore Emily's light yellow dress. I stepped forward, and she did not lift her head. Her body shook as she sobbed.

"Maisie," I said.

She did not react, so I took another step forward.

"Maisie," I said, raising my voice.

She shook her head. The floor creaked under my feet as I approached the bed. She refused to look at me when I kneeled. I grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and muttered to herself. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, making the freckles on her pale skin more prominent.

This morning she still seemed anxious, but I assumed her behaviour was sorted. She was no longer screaming and fighting. She was pleasant with the family, so I assumed she had realized this was where she belonged. Her crying over the wedding told me that it had been an act.