Rose stabbed a few grains of wild rice and nibbled on them. Then she mashed her fork into her spinach soufflé and waited for her mother to say, “Stop playing with your food, Rose.”
But instead, her mother said, “Miss Jeeter has given her notice, Robert.”
Rose’s stomach did a somersault. She froze with her fork in the air, looking down at the spinach soufflé. She wanted to cover her ears so she wouldn’t have to hear what came next, but she stayed there frozen like that.
Her father raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”
“She’s found another job,” her mother said.
“I guess that’s just as well,” her father said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Then they argued for a few minutes.
Rose’s father saying how her mother had never seemed happy with Miss Jeeter, and her mother saying, “Well, do you blame me, Robert?” Then she asked what she was supposed to do now. She couldn’t be expected to have no help.
When there seemed to be a lull in the conversation, Rose asked, “What’s her new job?”
Her mother looked surprised to see that Rose was still sitting there. “Receptionist at Clyde Waterman’s insurance agency.” She glanced over at Rose’s father, who kept quiet, then she added under her breath, “That ought to be good.”
“Will she and Mavis stay in the apartment over the garage?” Rose asked.
Her mother sat up straighter, her back pressed against the mahogany chair. “Of course not!” she said.
Rose set her fork down. “May I be excused?”
Her mother opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Rose’s father said, “You may.”
Rose placed her perfectly ironed linen napkin neatly next to her plate and went upstairs to Grace’s room.