Mallard
(Anas platyrhynchos)
As we washed up from breakfast the following morning, a knock at the door startled us. I shut the door of the icebox and shot Isabella a puzzled look. She stood at the sink, up to her elbows in suds.
“No idea,” she said. “Can you answer it?”
I wiped my hands on a dishrag and hurried to the door. It swung open to reveal Hannah Harrington. She wore a green linen shift and her hair was tied up simply. Under her arm she carried a thick book. She looked older, calmer, more composed.
But when she spoke, she stuttered. “I—I have your book. I was up reading it that night, so I had it with me when the . . . well, here it is.”
“Oh, Hannah, come in, come in. It’s a library book, but thank you for bringing it. I’m so glad to see you well.”
She came through the doorway followed by Avery, who I hadn’t seen standing behind her on the stairs. “He was kind enough to show me where he thought you’d be staying,” Hannah said in explanation. She glanced shyly around her, and then looked at her feet as Isabella came into the entryway.
Isabella dried her hands and rushed to embrace Avery. “Everyone told me you made it out of the fire okay,” she said, “but I had no idea where you were.”
Hannah and I stood back, or tried to, in the tiny space. “Let’s all of us go for a walk,” I said. “There’s so much to say and I could use some air.”
I excused myself and found Mother in the sitting room. She sat in a chair by the window with her injured leg propped up and a pair of Isabella’s pants in her lap. If you don’t give me something to do, I’ll go mad, she’d said to Isabella that morning. We had phoned Aunt Rachel (who I knew would always be Aunt Rachel, with or without Father around) to ask her to send us a few things, but they hadn’t arrived yet, and Mother was stir-crazy without any work in her hands. Reluctantly, Isabella offered up her pile of mending. At first, Mother looked appalled by the pants, the sleeveless blouses, the short dresses, but she collected herself after a moment and said Of course, dear. It’s the least I can do. Now she was happily at work.
“Who’s here, Garnet?” she said, her needle continuing its neat progress along the seam as she spoke.
“Hannah Harrington and the doorman from the Galpin.”
“Oh, good. The girl’s all right, then. Do ask after her mother.” Under her breath she added, “Even if they aren’t exactly relations anymore, we ought to be civil.”
I told her we’d be out walking for a bit but I’d be sure to pass along any news. In a moment, we were out the door and headed for the lake.
At the Commons, Isabella and Avery walked along the shore a ways while Hannah and I found a bench overlooking the water. A mother mallard bobbed in the shallows, tipping her tail up as she searched for food under the waves. Half a dozen of her almost-grown children milled about her, mimicking her movements as they refined the skill. They’d grown to be almost the size of adult ducks, but their feathers still stood out in some places when the wind blew. A few months ago they were nothing but puffballs lined up behind their mama, but now it was mid-August. Soon they’d have to fend for themselves.
“We’re staying with the Pedersons at their summer cottage until we take the train home next week. They sent their driver to fetch us as soon as they saw the fire across the bay that night and realized it was our hotel. We couldn’t find you or your mother, but people told us you were okay.”
“It was all confusion that night—thank heaven we all made it out. So you’re headed home soon then.”
“Yes. And do you want to hear some crazy news? Charlotte said she wouldn’t come without Avery! It turns out they’ve had a romance going all summer and none of us knew it.”
I looked at her in surprise. “I guess none of us was paying any attention,” I said. “I certainly wasn’t.” I had considered him my friend, but all I’d really done was use him. I’d needed him but offered him nothing of myself, and I was so caught up in my own story, I’d never even asked about his. You’d be amazed how self-involved people can be, Isabella had said once. I felt ashamed of myself, suddenly, but happy for him.
I looked down the shore to Avery. He seemed to be telling the very same news to Isabella at that moment because she laughed and grabbed his arms and danced him around in a circle, hooting.
“So Charlotte threatened to stay here in Minnesota if we didn’t offer Avery a job,” Hannah was saying. “Mother said she couldn’t spare her after all these years, so Father would just have to find the boy some work with one of his buddies from the country club. We can’t afford to employ him ourselves, of course. They’re going to marry at the city hall before we leave.”
He’ll be stuck with Mrs. Harrington forever, I mused. The things we do for love.
“Avery wanted Isabella to stand up with him at the city hall next week,” Hannah went on, “and I asked him to bring me along when he asked her, so I could see you and—and apologize.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Hannah.”
“Yes. I do. I’m sorry I called her those awful names. She’s—um—it’s very generous of her to take you and your mother in like this.”
I nodded. “We’re leaving in a few days. As soon as Mother can walk on her ankle.”
“What then?”
“Oh, who knows? I’m going to finish school and apply to the university. Mother’s going to look for a job, and I’ll probably find something for the weekends too.”
I must’ve looked nervous because she said, “I’m sure it will work out.”
“Thanks. And good luck with, you know, the eligible young men of St. Louis.”
She giggled. “Yeah, maybe that will work out too.”
“You look lovely, by the way. That green is stunning on you.”
“Borrowed. But yes, I rather like it too. The Pedersons’ daughter has got me reading fashion magazines now. I might be done letting Mother pick my clothes.”
“They always mean well, but they don’t always know best,” I said.
The mallard in the bay tipped too far forward and her legs kicked comically in the air as she tried to right herself. She finally surfaced and shook herself from her beak to her tail, water droplets flying. The young ducks watched her, then went back to their meal.
We laughed and laughed.
