The Sound of Glass by White Karen

Author:White, Karen [White, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Literary, Retail, Fiction
ISBN: 9780451470898
Publisher: NAL
Published: 2015-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

chapter 18

MERRITT

Cal’s wedding ring nudged my hip where it lay in my pocket as I climbed the stairs. I pulled open the attic door and waited for Deborah and Gibbes to go first. I hadn’t forgotten the first time I’d climbed the stairs with Gibbes while I wore a skirt, and wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

Deborah paused, looking up the steep, narrow attic steps. “Edith always kept the door locked, so I’ve never been up here. Not that I would ever go against her wishes, of course. She was a very private woman, and I respected that.” A small smile tilted her lips. “Mr. Calhoun never came up here, either, not that she locked the door when he was home. The man couldn’t abide a locked door.” She rubbed her hands over her arms as if she’d just had a chill. “I always wondered why she didn’t use the basement, where the old kitchen and slave quarters were, for her workshop. There was always the potential of flooding, but it would have been a lot cooler.” She nodded toward the stairs. “But now I understand why. Her husband was a big man who was fond of his brandy. I don’t think he could have managed these steps.”

I scratched my head. “I haven’t even been to the basement—I’ve seen the half-moon windows from the outside, but they’re covered with dirt and cobwebs. And I know the door’s at the end of the back porch—which seems to me an odd place for it.”

Gibbes began climbing the steps. “When they added on the new kitchen, they didn’t enclose the basement door, although I have no idea why. I don’t think anybody’s been down there for years. I just remember how dark it was—with old wooden beams on the ceiling, and dirt floors. It would be a nice place to fix up—maybe a rec room for Owen.”

“It would be if he were going to be living here. Besides, if it’s prone to flooding, maybe I’ll just let it stay the way it is. Something less to worry about.”

Even to my own ears my protest didn’t sound very convincing. I hadn’t been in Beaufort very long, but even in such a short space of time I was finding it difficult reconciling the woman who’d sat in Mr. Williams’s office crying with the woman who’d willingly gone out in a boat, crossed a large swing bridge in a car, and worn a dress that showed more leg than some bathing suits.

I flipped on the light switch when we reached the top, then adjusted the air conditioner to a lower temperature and a higher fan speed. I still kept it on all day, but had compromised my need for cool air with my New England need to not be a spendthrift by keeping it on the “economy” mode when I wasn’t up there. Still, Deborah plucked at her blouse, trying to fan herself, drops of perspiration forming on her upper lip.

“It must have been unbearable for Edith up here during the hotter months.

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