M. Donice Byrd - The Warner Saga (29 page)

Meredith bristled at
the woman’s tone knowing the whole hotel knew of their marriage and suspected she was being rude because she had designs on Blake herself. “At twenty, some would say, I was entering spinsterhood had I not married. But you would quite know all about that.”

Lena
’s eyes narrowed at Meredith but she said nothing as she handed everyone except Lolly a menu. “I’m only nineteen,” the woman said but Meredith could tell the woman was at least twenty-five.

“What would everyone like to drink?”
Lena asked pulling her tablet and pencil out of the pocket in her apron.

“Coffee for me and milk for the children.”

Meredith saw the look of annoyance cross Pete’s face.

“I’d like a cup of coffee and a glass of milk,” Meredith said. “Pete, is that what you wanted?”

Pete flipped open the tablet. “Can I have
coffy
and milk too?” he wrote.

“Aren’t you too young for coffee?” Blake asked after reading the note.

“I used to drink it all the time
befor
the war.”

“Three coffees and three milks.”
Blake said to the waitress sending her on her way.

“Thank you,” he wrote.

“Sorry, Pete, I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t ask,” he wrote.

“Well, pick out what you want for breakfast.”

Across the table, Meredith read the menu to Lolly.

“Lolly and I have decided on the French toast,” Meredith announced after a minute of lively discussion.

“The French toast is good
but I’m starving. I worked up an appetite last night.”

Meredith glanced up at Blake meeting his sultry look and blushed but said nothing. Had they been alone in private that look would have landed them back in bed.

“What about you, Pete?”

Pete glanced at Blake for a moment before
pointing at the ham and egg breakfast and the French toast.

“You can’t decide?” Blake asked.

Pete began writing. “I’m used to eating a big
brekfest
before I get to work. Every time you see me with my
shurt
off you say something about my ribs showing and then you feed me a bowl of
oatmill
for
brekfest
.”

“If you want both, you can have both. As a matter fact, I think I’ll have both too.”

Blake was beginning to realize just how much Pete had to say and felt ashamed of himself for not giving him the opportunity to express himself before.

The waitress returned with the beverages and Blake ordered for everyone. After she had gone, Meredith looked around at her new family.

“My family was never very religious, but for special occasions, we always said grace before our meal. Since this is our first meal as a family, I’d like to say a prayer. Do you mind?”

Blake wasn’t exactly anti-religion; he just wasn’t raised around it. When he asked his mother why they didn’t go to church like other people, she said, “Jesus may have accepted Mary Magdalene but those people will not accept me.” It was only later when he was sent to a church-run boarding school that he understood what she meant.

“If you’d like.”

“Hold hands and bow your heads.”

Meredith waited until everyone joined hands. “Dear Heavenly Father, thank You for bringing us together as a family. Please be with Pete and Lolly as they grieve the loss of their parents. And continue to be with me as I continue to grieve mine. Please, bless Pete and Lolly’s parents and let them know their precious children are safe with us.

“And Lord, please help Blake and me be the parents to these children that
You would want us to be. Help us be the example of who we want them to grow up to be.

“Heavenly Father, please,
open our hearts to each other so we may love each other the way families do. Help us forgive those who have taken away those dear to us.

“In Christ’s name.
Amen.”

Pete picked up his tablet began writing. “Your parents killed too?”

“They were killed about two months ago by Sioux renegades.”

“Pete, I don’t think Meredith wants to talk about it,” Blake stepped in quickly.

“No, it’s all right, Blake. Families should not have secrets from one another.”

“Do you think people who kill other people go to h – – –?” Pete wrote.

“Well, I suppose that depends. They say it’s not a sin to kill in war or if it was self-defense. But unless a murderer asks God for forgiveness, I think the Bible says they would go there.”

Pete thought about that for a minute then began writing again in his neat even script. “What if they’re sorry and they don’t know how to pray and ask God?”

“I don’t think there’s a right or wrong way to pray. You don’t even have to say the words out loud. But like I said, my family was not really religious so I’m not an expert. If you want to go to church so you can ask a minister, we can take you.”

Meredith and Blake watched as he wrote, “No.” A
fat teardrop wet the page making Blake put his arm around Pete. Pete pulled away, pushing at him.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Meredith said.

Pete wiped at the wetness from his face with his arm. He looked away and crossed his arms across his chest.

“Pete, if I had known that stopping by your farm would get anyone hurt or killed, I never would’ve stopped there.”

Holding the pencil in his fist, the paper tearing under the pressure, Pete began writing. He only got to the second letter when Blake could see he was writing a vile curse.

Blake grabbed his hand, stilling it. “I’m going to let that go this time. But you will not talk to Meredith or me like that!” Blake gritted out.

“Talk?” he wrote when Blake released his hand. “I can’t talk!”

“You know what I mean.”

Blake turned back to Meredith, the frustration written across his face. “I think I liked him better when I didn’t think he could read or write.”

Meredith kicked Blake under the table with a harsh look. He accepted the silent censure without comment.

“I never liked you at all,” Pete wrote.

Blake watched him write it out of the corner of his eye but never acknowledged that he read it. He wasn’t going to be baited.

“We’ve got a busy day today,” Blake said to Meredith. “I’ll take Pete to the doctor and tailor while you take Lolly to the dressmaker and then we can meet up for lunch.”

The waitress stepped up with a tray full of food and placed the plates in front of each of them practically dropping Meredith’s on the table.

Blake was on his feet in an instant. “How dare you throw her plate on the table like that?”

“It’s slipped, Mr. Warner, I swear.”

“Hogwash! You’ve been rude to my wife every time you’ve come to the table and I’m fed up with it. Look, you splashed syrup all over the table. Should I send you the cleaning bill when it gets all over her sleeves?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll get a rag.”

The commotion in the corner drew the attention of both diners and workers. The manager was soon at the table asking for explanations and offering apologies.

“I’ll see Lena gets sacked,” the manager capitulated fawningly.

Meredith saw a look of fear in the girl’s eyes. “No, Blake,” Meredith broke in. “I don’t want to see her fired. I just don’t want her serving us anymore.”

“I-I’ll see to it
she’s put to work washing dishes during the remainder of your stay.”

“Hey!” Lolly cried drawing everyone’s attention. “Petey stole my strawberry.”

“If you’ll excuse us,” Blake said to the manager. “Pete, give Lolly back her strawberry.”

Pete shook his head no and began pulling at the tablet but the waitress had placed his plates on top of it and he couldn’t get it out.

“Give it back,” Lolly pouted sounding like she was going to start crying.

When Pete shook his head no again, Blake snatched the strawberry off his plate and put it back on Lolly’s. Pete grabbed it again and set it on the edge of his
plate as he vocalized his protest within indistinguishable utterance. Frustrated by his lack of progress getting the tablet free, Pete turned his fingers under shaping his hands into claws and touched his face all over then scratched at one arm.

“Dammit, Pete.”

“No, Blake, he’s trying to tell us something. Show me again, Pete.”

Pete did the same pair of gestures.

After a moment of contemplation, Meredith figured it out. “Rash? Strawberries give Lolly a rash?”

Pete nodded and pointed back and forth between them.

“Both of you. They give both of you rashes?”

Pete nodded again.

“But I still like strawberries,” Lolly protested.

“Sorry, sweetie, but you don’t want to be itchy because you ate one.”

Blake sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Pete. I should have known better. I’ve never seen you be mean to Lolly.”

Pete lifted his plate turning the strawberries towards Meredith offering them to her.

“For me?”

He nodded.

Blake was shaking his head. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve commented about other people’s children’s behavior. And most of the time people would say, ‘You don’t understand because you don’t have children.’ They couldn’t have been more correct. I had no idea. I thought you just tell them to do something or not to and they complied.”

“You were a perfect child?”

Meredith sensed Blake’s withdrawal. “I think I was kicked out of six boarding schools, if that tells you anything.”

Meredith finished chewing her bite of French toast and asked, “When did you finally grow up and start behaving?”

Blake knew there was still a lot of that rebellious teenager in him. A half smile quirked his lips. “Honestly, I didn’t begin to behave until my father threatened to ship me off to a Tibetan monastery where, according to him, they would shave my head and castrate me.”

Suddenly, Pete began choking, coughing reflexively. Blake reached towards him to slap his back but Pete grabbed his wrist with one hand and grabbed his milk with the other. He quickly took a few sips of milk. After a few more coughs and a few more sips, Pete got his coughing under control.

Pete slid the remainder of his meal onto one plate so he could stack the plates and get to his tablet.

“Nice mealtime talk, B.”

“Sorry, Pete. I didn’t think…”

“Do you ever?” he wrote.

“Fine, I’ll change the conversation,” Blake said refusing to be pulled into another argument. “We’re going to need to look for a house.”

Meredith sat down her fork “I nearly forgot – Mrs. Billingsham sent me out with an estate agent yesterday. My plan when I got here was just to take the $30 a month and find a little apartment.”

It was Blake who nearly choked this time. “I didn’t mean for you to try to live off that money. I thought you could buy yourself a few dresses or baubles. Of course, I thought you would be staying with Donna.”

“Oh,” she said surprised. “It’s more than double what an army private makes. I’m sure I could live comfortably enough on that much.”

Blake only shook his head knowing she probably could.

“Well, Cloris already picked out three houses and was very insistent I choose one. I’m glad you’re here because she scares me and she was practically going to force me to take one and have you
reimburse her.”

Blake grinned. “She can be overbearing. Tell me about the houses.”

“Even after seeing a little of her house, I was expecting to see something smaller than Donna’s house. But the smallest one had eight bedrooms.”

Blake raised his eyebrows. “That’s the one you liked?”

“What do I know about these things, Blake? I lived in a three room log cabin until the day we married. I didn’t even know anyone with plaster walls until I met Donna. The only reason I picked that one was because the Pembrooks left a considerable amount of furniture in it and it had a nice stable and carriage house in the back for horses. And there was a large area that would be perfect for a vegetable garden in the spring.”

Pete picked up his pencil quickly. “I’ll help.”

For the first time, Blake saw Pete’s interest sparked and he wondered if the boy needed to be around things that felt familiar like a garden.

The neighbors wouldn’t know what to think of the lady of the house outside working in a vegetable patch. Would they think he was miserly with his money or worse would they think he did not have much money? He needed to face it. Meredith was going to raise a great many eyebrows. She was not going to fit into society’s mold and he doubted if she really cared.

“I’ve been to the Pembrook’s house a few times and it seems nice. Is it missing anything you’d like to have?”

“The only thing I would really like is more land so I can ride. But we’re not going to find that much land in town.”