Heavenstone 01 - The Heavenstone Secrets

said. She leaned toward her and whispered, “If you want something to eat that she won’t give you, just let me know, and I’ll see that you get it.”
    “Thank you, dear.”
    “I’m preparing that meat loaf you make, just the way you make it. Daddy loves it.”
    “That’s very nice, Cassie. It helps me to know you’re so competent and can take my place.”
    “No one can take your place, Mother,” I said sharply, even with a little hysteria in my voice.
    “I know, dear. I was just referring to now, when I’m still unable to fulfill my duties.”
    “You will soon,” I insisted.
    “I’ve got to get back to work,” Cassie said, standing quickly. “That nurse insists on preparing you some eggs. I know you would prefer the meat loaf.”

    “It’s all right for now, Cassie. I don’t think I’ll even eat much of the eggs.”
    “Not if she insists on making them,” Cassie muttered, and started out. She paused at the door and looked at me. “Are you coming to help, Semantha?”
    I got up from the bed reluctantly. “I’ll be back up to see you as soon as we’re finished,” I promised.
    Mother nodded and closed her eyes. I stood there a moment, fighting back tears. I hated to see her so weak and tired and defeated.
    “Semantha,” Cassie whispered.
    I turned and hurried out after her. “She still looks so sick,” I said.
    “No kidding,” Cassie muttered, and hurried down the stairs.
    Mrs. Bledsoe was starting up. “I’m just going to check her blood pressure,” she said.
    Cassie flashed a smile mask and continued to the kitchen. She worked silently, but by the way she kneaded the meat and mixed in the ingredients she had me prepare, I could see that the anger was still boiling in her. I thought I would try to get her to be more reasonable.
    “Now that we see how things are, isn’t it good that Mother has a professional nurse, Cassie? As Daddy would say, she’s still not out of the woods.”
    She didn’t answer. I could see that she didn’t even hear me. She was so deep into her own thoughts that the house could explode around her and she wouldn’t know it. She didn’t come out of it until Daddy arrived. He was very anxious about Mother.
    “How’s it going?” he asked Cassie.

    “Fine. I’ve made your favorite meat loaf.”
    “I meant, how’s your mother doing?”
    “She’s still very weak, Daddy. I do hope Mrs. Bledsoe’s supplements and care get her on her feet quickly, although Mother didn’t like the drink and hardly drank it. She made her some eggs and toast and brought it up to her just now. She wouldn’t let me make it, so I don’t know how Mother will receive it. You know how Mother hates the gushers in the eggs. I take my time removing any and …”
    He nodded, smiled at me, and hurried up the stairs.
    “Let’s set the table,” she told me sharply. Then she paused and smiled. “Don’t forget to put out a place for Mrs. Bledsoe.”
    As it turned out, Daddy wanted to have his dinner upstairs with Mother. Cassie carried his tray up to him. I knew she wasn’t going to be happy with our having to eat dinner only with Mrs. Bledsoe, but she wasn’t unpleasant. She asked the nurse many questions about herself, where she grew up, where she went to college. She wanted to know if she had always been a private-duty nurse and what other work she had done. I thought Mrs. Bledsoe would be upset with Cassie’s rapid-fire questions, but she calmly responded to everything.
    Finally, Cassie changed the subject. “I know my mother is recuperating from a physical shock to her body, but don’t you think she’s in a deep depression?” Cassie asked.
    “Oh, I think she’ll come out of it once her health returns. Life is full of disappointments. We’re allmore resilient than we think, but we need to be healthy.”
    “That’s encouraging,” Cassie said, glancing at me. She turned back to Mrs. Bledsoe and said, “I guess we are lucky having you here, Mrs. Bledsoe.”
    I didn’t speak. I didn’t trust the way she was behaving. I kept expecting the floor to collapse under us.
    Mrs. Bledsoe complimented her on the meat loaf. She ate every morsel.
    “Would you like some more, Mrs. Bledsoe?” Cassie asked. “I can get you a little more.” Before Mrs. Bledsoe could respond, she took her plate and started for the kitchen.
    “I really don’t—”
    “Oh, please. It pleases me so much when people enjoy the food I prepare,” she said.
    “Well … just a