My Hands Hold My Story (Rough Draft)

Chapter Four

In the middle of the night, a warm wetness on my side pulled me from my sleep. As I breathed in, the pungent scent of urine filled my nostrils and it took all my willpower not to gag. Beside me, little Katie slept on, blissfully unaware that she had wet the bed.

Feeling more than a little sorry for myself, I stared up at the dark ceiling. I'd never before had to share a bed with anyone, let alone a three year old with no bladder control. This is not what I had expected life would be like with my family.

Dinner had, predictably, been awkward for us all. Simon didn't make eye contact with me through the whole meal, and neither had Anna. My stepsister had talked the whole time, though, her head turned away just enough so that I couldn't read her lips.

And I'd thought meals with Uncle Richard had been unbearable.

Father had, as often as he could, tried to at least address a statement to me every few minutes. He had ensured I sat next to him, which had miffed the rest of the family. Every now and then, he would reach over to squeeze my hand.

The food, a stew and the bread I had smelled as soon as I entered the house, was excellent. If nothing else, I enjoyed that part of the experience.

It was after the meal that the real awkwardness began. Ordering her daughter to do the dishes, Cordelia sat next to Father on the delicate settee that was the absolute opposite of anything a man would have chosen for his home. My step mother must have brought it with her when she married Father. The question I had been waiting was finally asked.

"Why aren't you at school?"

The beginning of my explanation, both with miming and writing, that the money had not been available for another year sent Father into a rage. I gathered from the words he exchanged with his wife that while money was tight and he'd written to say there would be a slight delay before the funds for my tuition and board. He hadn't said anything of a change in my education.

Why had Aunt Ruth said there was no money for me to continue at school? Had there been some kind of miscommunication?

If that was true, would I be able to return? I tried in vain to rein in my excitement at the idea. It had been a small fortune for me to travel all the way to Montana, but I was certainly not a welcome addition to the family.

Cordelia pursed her lips, and I wondered if she'd been aware of the money Father had spent on my education. It was hard to believe that she hadn't noticed, but if she wasn't aware of me, what excuse had Father given her about the money?

"Who sent you here? Richard?" was the next question put to me.

I put aside my speculations as I thought back to that terrible day. My hands had stopped shaking as I moved around the kitchen to prepare some refreshment for the hard working men who had been brought in. When it was ready, I was able to carry the tray with a reasonable amount of steadiness.

Everyone was still in the hallway at the foot of the stairs accepted the coffee when I brought it to them, and some even nodded their thanks. Uncle Richard ignored me even as he took a cup. I stayed against the wall in an attempt to know what they all were talking about.

However, they all stood with their backs to me, except for the bearded policeman.

Dr. Babson was the first to leave as he had patients who needed his attention. Within an hour, the policemen also left. That left me alone with Uncle Richard, which was not what I would describe as a desirable situation.

As quickly as possible, I took the dirty cups back to the kitchen and set about putting everything right. I couldn't bring myself to look at the meat on the counter, even though I knew Uncle Richard would expect me to have something for the evening meal.