those were topics Mabel would want to return to. She smiled, feeling something
close to affection for her sister-in-law.
There were also two issues of Life in America and one of a journal she had never heard of, called Nature. She flipped it open to the Table of Contents and
there it was, “The Wildlife of Michigan” by Mr. Jeremy Kincaid. The article was
longer than his usual single page, providing a survey of all the mammals and reptiles that were native to the state. Olivia started reading in the middle, where
he wrote about bears.
There was a drawing of a bear standing on its hind legs, its head cocked to one side, as if it couldn’t quite make out what someone was saying. It looked just
like the mamma bear they had seen by the river. Olivia wondered who had
drawn it for him. She closed her eyes, remembering that day, the caress of the sun on her face, her feet in the cold rushing water. That day she’d thought the most important thing in the world was the possibility of Jeremy’s skin brushing
against hers. That the worst thing that could happen to a girl was to not be loved
by a man she thought she wanted. It was a story about somebody else.
Cooped up together with nothing but a gray sky to look out at, Jettie and
Olivia began to snip at one other. Jettie seemed to grow fussier by the day, had to
have things done just her way. Olivia dreaded the early evenings, when she had
to put her book down and sit through a tedious description of each customer who’d come in that day. Though she eagerly awaited the rare scraps of gossip about “those Killions” that Jettie picked up in the shop, Olivia felt like shouting
in protest at the rest of it. What do I care if Mrs. Brewster paid you with a Quarter Eagle gold piece? Don’t you know how boring it is to listen to you
telling me how many times Mrs. Monroe came back to check on her stupidpudding? And if you don’t shut up about the way Mr. Lindstrom’s teeth click, I’m
going to scream.
But somehow their bickering made Olivia feel even more at home. Mrs. Place
could go to her room and slam the door without Olivia fretting that she was going to be asked to leave. They had molded themselves into a family of sorts,
each taken for granted by the other. It was not a relationship that either would end because of an argument. And Olivia’s annoyance always passed quickly. Her
feelings for Jettie were stronger than mere gratitude.
Jettie began knitting and sewing for the baby.
“Just for the beginning.” She peered at Olivia over her glasses. “For the first
month. Till you’ve had time to decide what you’re gonna do. No point looking
farther ahead than that. You can’t make no decision about giving your baby away
till you’ve held it in your arms. Looked into them bright little eyes and fallen in
mad love. Or looked into them and not been able to see nothing but the monster
what raped you.”
Olivia couldn’t imagine either scenario. The baby wasn’t real to her. It was a
concept and a problem, but not a person. She didn’t feel like talking about it and
changed the subject. “Does Mrs. Hardaway ever come into the shop?”
“No.”
“What about Lady Mabel?”
“Are you fooling? That woman was born too busy to do her own errands. And
now she’s hired a young boy in the store. Sends him with her order, both for Killion’s General and for home.”
“What about Tobey?”
“No. That sweetheart of his, that Emma O’Keefe, does come once in a while
for one of my pies, but a mouse has more conversation in it than that girl does.”
“What about when you go to Killion’s General to do your shopping?”
