Cutler 02 - Secrets of the Morning

Those two articles of clothing were all there was. She re-minded me of that when I came down for dinner.
    "Remember what I said about clothing—we wash it once a week, so if you dirty both your dresses, you will have to wear a filthy one until we wash."
    "Why don't we wash clothing more than once a week?" I asked.
    "We don't need to be extravagant about it. Take care of what you have and you need do it only once a week," she emphasized.
    "But I don't have anything—just two ugly dresses," I replied.
    "Simple things are not ugly things," she snapped. "Just because you are used to fancy clothing doesn't mean everything else is ugly."
    "I'm not used to fancy clothing. But I need things that fit and I need my underwear and socks and . . ."
    "I need, I need, I need. Are those the only words young people your age know these days?" she said. She uncovered the pot of potatoes and mixed vegetables. That, plus a glass of water and another piece of bread, was to be our meal. I had eaten better when I was living with Momma and Daddy Longchamp and we were scrounging to feed ourselves because Daddy had no work. But Miss Emily thought simple foods were good for the soul and things like chicken and eggs were to be eaten only on Sundays.
    After saying grace, she didn't speak a word and Charlotte looked different, frightened. I imagined Miss Emily had castigated her harshly for the things she had said before and had probably forbidden her to speak. Every once in a while she lifted her eyes from her plate and glanced at me like a co-conspirator. It was curious, but I didn't find out what it was all about until dinner was finished and I had cleaned all the dishes, silverware and pots. I found her waiting for me in the shadows of the hallway just outside the dining room. Apparently she had been hiding there all that time, just waiting for me to appear.
    She practically jumped out at me when I stepped through the doorway. I didn't think I would want to go to sleep so early, but I was so exhausted from my work and so full of aches and pains, even the dark, dingy room loomed promising. I had my hot water bottle wrapped in a dish towel under my arm.
    "Charlotte!" I exclaimed, stepping back. "What is it?" I looked about, but Miss Emily was nowhere in sight.
    "I gave you a present," she whispered. "It's on your bed," she added and then turned again and shuffled quickly away before I could reply.
    I didn't know what to make of it. What could she have given me? Probably one of her needlework things, I thought. Or maybe she felt sorry for me and gave me one of her things to wear. I climbed the stairway slowly, each step an effort now, and walked down the dark corridor to my horrid room. I went to the kerosene lamp and lit it quickly. The light drove away the blanket of shadows and revealed something on my bed.
    Slowly I picked it up and turned it about in my hand. It was a baby's toy rattle and from the looks of it, practically new. Miss Emily had ridiculed me when I had asked her about it being Charlotte's birthday and she had reminded me that Charlotte was not to be believed. So I didn't ask her why Charlotte had inquired if the baby had kept me awake or what Charlotte had meant by Miss Emily being able to see into her stomach and see a baby with pointed ears.
    But why would she have a baby's rattle and one that looked just bought? Charlotte was certainly too old to have had a baby recently.
    Miss Emily had forbidden me to go into their wing of the house, I thought, but maybe that was the only way I could eventually find out what all this meant.
    For now, I was too tired and confused to care. I pulled back the blanket and crawled under it, placing the hot water bottle snugly against my stomach, thinking I was keeping my baby warm, too.
    It didn't seem as cold tonight, and for that, I was grateful. One of the few things Miss Emily had said at dinner was the warm air meant a change in weather and probably a snowfall would come.
    A snowfall, I thought. What was the date? I added the days I had been in the hospital to the last day I remembered and the two days I had already been here. The realization of what day and what night it was made me sit up in sorrow and horror.
    It was Christmas Eve! And no one had even mentioned it or had even cared. I thought about Jimmy in Europe, probably celebrating and singing Christmas carols with his army buddies; I thought about Trisha home with her family in their warm house around their tree; I even thought