“No. You?”
Olivia shook her head. She didn’t know if her father had loved her mother
and she had no idea what he might have felt for Mrs. Jettie Place. She did know
that the rumors about him carrying on with “his whore” were true. He’d left them no doubt of that. The day before he died Seborn had ordered Tobey to
bring Mrs. Place to him.
Chapter Six
The last morning of his life Old Seborn had been wheezing and rheumy-eyed.
After bathing him, Olivia asked, “Are you needful of anything else, Father?”
He retched, spit an enormous gob of brown phlegm into a blue and white
porcelain teacup, and nodded toward the bottle of rye whiskey on the dresser.
Olivia poured a shot into a clean cup and watched him take a sip and cough.
“Yes, I am most needful – of having Mrs. Jettie Place brought to me. Tell
Tobey to go fetch her.”
Olivia expressed no objection. Once she recovered from the shock of this
request, she was more curious than anything else. Excited. At last something to
relieve the numbing boredom. The past two years had been one long, dull blur of
caring for her father, going to the store, and walking along the river bank alone.
Tobey was unpacking stock in the back of the store when Olivia touched his
arm. “Our father wants you to fetch a visitor for him.”
“And who would that be?”
“Mrs. Place.”
He blinked and froze for a moment, then continued unloading the crate.
“Would that be right now?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then I guess I’d best go fetch Mrs. Place.” He stood up straight and removed his apron. Olivia need no longer wonder if Tobey had heard about their
father and Mrs. Place; the sharp edge of resentment in his voice left no question.
“Am I hearing you correctly?” Avis’s head bobbed in the doorway. “Are you
intending to bring that woman into our mother’s home?”
“Father asked for her,” Olivia said, not about to let Avis spoil the show.
Tobey put on his coat, while Avis continued to protest. Mabel Mears also
appeared, hands on her hips, poised to oversee the commotion. She placed a
soothing hand on Avis’s arm and told him there was no choice but to obey. You
could not deny a dying man his last wishes.
“Take her in the back door,” Mabel said, now grasping Tobey’s arm, issuing
her instructions through clenched teeth. “Carry a box with you, so if anyone does
see you, they’ll think she’s making some kind of delivery.” Mabel marched back
out to the front counter. Resigned, Avis trailed after her.
“The way she swishes those crinolines, it’s a wonder she doesn’t set herself on fire,” Olivia muttered.
“Would have expected her to howl louder than Avis,” Tobey said as he patted
his pockets, looking for his gloves.
