In a House Unknown by Dolores Hitchens

Author:Dolores Hitchens
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road
Published: 2021-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

In the kitchen, Mrs. Mim was peering into the oven, and Cindy was cracking pecans at the counter. I said, “Is there any use trying to take something to my aunt?”

Mrs. Mim looked over her shoulder at me and shook her head. “I’m afraid there isn’t. I tried it once.”

“Very well. I can fix something for Rye and me.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she said firmly. “Please let me make a nice meal for Miss Barbara.”

“I’m going to eat with her in her room. I can manage a big tray.”

“There’s no need for you to wrestle a big tray up those stairs. In one of the pantries there’s a dumb-waiter to the upstairs, and I’ll put the trays on that, and there’s a tea cart in the upstairs closet. You can send things down again the same way. This old house has a lot of things they don’t think of any more.”

“But not many conveniences for you here.”

She smiled a little. “That’s all right. I’m used to it now, and I’ve gotten to like having all the space, even if it means a lot of walking.”

I said thoughtfully, “You’re too young to have been here as long as Perkins has.”

“Except for Lydia, I’m the last to come. When Mr. Barrod brought your aunt here as his bride, the cook he’d had for years quit on him. Really, just used her coming as an excuse, I figure. Martha said he was an old man, a good cook but crippled up with arthritis, and cranky. Wouldn’t stay with a woman to boss him, was the way he put it, and took off to live with his son in Baton Rouge. It was Mrs. Barrod who hired me. I’ve been very grateful.” She gazed at me for a long moment as if to be sure that I understood. “Not many people want to hire a woman with a child, a woman who intends to keep her child with her and to raise the child herself. They seem to think that the child might interfere with the woman’s doing her job. But your aunt chose me, and I won’t forget that.”

“I see.” What I saw was that Mrs. Mim would take a lot from Aunt Wanda in the way of abuse, out of gratitude.

“Now, as to dinner, everything’s about ready. A nice salad and a small roast. Sweet potatoes. Biscuits. You understand, last night was special. Usually dinner is plainer than that.”

“I would imagine.”

“There’s wine if you’d like it.”

“I think that some wine might make my sister feel more cheerful.”

“There’s another thing.” She hesitated as if wondering how to venture farther. “Would you rather I called you and Miss Barbara by these names you use for each other? I can’t help noticing—”

“It doesn’t matter. Aunt Wanda has never given in, never called us by the names we chose. Our parents did, but she wouldn’t.” A reason lay there, I told myself, but what reason? Why should Aunt Wanda care if Barbara wanted to be

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