Page 26 of An Artful Dodge
My pulse quickened. Here it was.
“I wanted to talk to you ’bout Amelia,” Emma said.
I swallowed the last bite of bread and set down my own spoon. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Despite the difference in their ages, Emma and Amelia had been friends for years.
Emma touched her apron to her mouth’s corners. “I know she told you she was letting go o’ the ring.”
“She told you why?”
“About Maggie? Aye.” Emma rested her sleeved forearms on the table. “I know you’re loyal to Amelia, but the best way you can show that now is to make it easy for Maggie. Don’t fight it.”
I squirmed inwardly at the thought of them talking about me as if I were a stubborn child, digging in my heels against the change. “I told her I wouldn’t. And Amelia seems not to mind much, so I suppose I shouldn’t, either.”
Emma blinked, and the corners of her mouth tucked in like a bodice dart.
“Does she mind more than she’s showing?” I asked.
“God’s sake, Kit. What d’you think?” She rose from the table with an impatient movement, taking our bowls to the sink.
I felt ashamed that I’d asked. My mother’s feelings had always burst out of her, but Amelia muted hers. It soothed my own unhappy feelings some to know Amelia shared them, at least in part.
Emma turned back toward me, setting her hips against the sink, her arms crossed. “The others’ll have questions. ’Twould help if you could answer them.”
“I’m sure Amelia will explain herself.”
“She will, but you know how rumors start. People will make guesses about what shedoesn’tsay. After she’s gone, just stick to Amelia’s story, a’ right?”
That caught me up.
“Isit a story?” I asked. “Because if there’s—”
“I’m asking you not to ask,” she said, her voice rising over mine. “If you care about Amelia like you say, don’t fuss.”
I sat back. “If you’re trying to make me less curious, it’s not working.”
Her hands dropped to her sides and curled over the chipped white enamel at the sink’s edge. “God’s sake, Kit! Can you just trust me that Amelia’s doing the best she can for everyone, including you? I know you have questions. But keep ’em to yourself and ... eventually Amelia may be able to tell you everything.”
“Doyouknow everything?”
“I know enough,” she said soberly.
The look on her face ran a shiver down me. “Is she safe?”
“She’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t wholly reassured.
“Believe me, I don’t want her to go, either,” Emma added.
You’re losing a friend, I thought.
“You can tell her I’ll do what I can to help smooth things along,” I said.
Emma’s eyebrows rose in warning. “She doesn’t know I’m talking to you.”
“And I won’t tell her you did,” I said. “But if she asks.”
“Thanks.” She reached for the brass tap, twisting it until water burst forth then slowed.
