Hannah's Rainbow: Every Color Beautiful

Chapter Eight

Breath catching in her throat, Hannah eased away from the grave and ran back to her family. Amy was in the back of the group and seemed to be the only one who noticed she had left.

"What was that about?" she asked in a whisper.

"I saw Aunt Mabel in the cemetery. I know it was nosey, but I just had to know what grave she was visiting."

"And?" Amy pressed.

"Her son's grave," Hannah said in a small, sad voice. "He was born and died the same day."

Amy frowned. "He might have been stillborn. That's really awful. Poor Aunt Mabel and Uncle John."

"Didn't they ever tell anyone?"

"I don't think so. It's not our business to pry, Hannah. I'd leave it be if I were you."

Hannah nodded, subdued into silence.

Upon returning to their uncle and aunt's house, almost everyone exchanged goodbyes. Aunt Mabel was nowhere to be seen, and when Ma inquired after her, Uncle John said brusquely, "She's not feeling well. She always gets like this on Sundays."

"Well, give her our best. Thank you again for having us, John."

Uncle John accepted his sister's embrace with a stiff one-armed hug in return and grunted as he shook hands with Pa. He nodded at the children, his mouth in a firm line.

On the long ride home, Hannah kept her eyes on the passing houses as they left the city and then on the cornfields as they drove through the lengthy expanse of country road. Her mind kept drifting back to earlier that day in the graveyard.

Much later that day, when the family was turning in for the night, Hannah's mind was still on her uncle and aunt. She said goodnight to her parents and went to her room. Amy was reading in bed, and little Irma was tucked soundly in her bed in the corner. Hannah had half a mind to speak with Amy more on the subject of their relatives, but as Hannah pulled the sheet over her torso, Amy set the book aside and turned off the light.

"You're going to bed?" asked Hannah.

"Yes, it's been a long day, and I have to return to work tomorrow. Goodnight, Hannah."

"Yeah, goodnight," Hannah replied distractedly.

In the darkness, Hannah lay awake for the next ten minutes. Her mind restless, Hannah left the comforts of bed and went downstairs.

She was relieved to find her mother still up. Ma was sitting in one of the armchairs in the living room, doing needlework, reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. Not far away, Grossmutter snored.

"Where's Pa?" Hannah asked.

Not expecting anyone, Ma jumped slightly. "What are you doing up, Hannah? Your father is in bed, which is where you should be. He has to return to work tomorrow and is worried that entrusting the deliveries to Horace was a mistake while he was gone."

Hannah took a seat on the edge of the couch. "I have to ask you something."

Ma set her needlework in her lap and removed her glasses, placing them on the table next to the chair. "Yes, what is it?"

"Well, it's about Uncle John and Aunt Mabel. You told us not to ask why they didn't have any kids of their own."

"I hope you didn't," Ma said sharply.

"No, no," Hannah said hastily. "It's just... well, I asked Amy why they didn't have kids, and she said it's because they don't like kids. It seemed that way, but it's not like they were much kinder to you or Pa."