A Husband for Margaret Page 7

Leaning forward, he kissed her. “I didn’t mean to imply that. I remember what it was like for me my first day with them and no one to help. They aren’t as easy as they look.”

  “What are you saying, Pa?” Bob asked, letting his fork clatter onto his plate. “Haven’t we been good?”

  “We’ve been on our best behavior, just like you ordered,” Doug agreed, looking as indignant as a seven year old could get.

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” Joseph mumbled under his breath. Giving them a critical eye, he told them, “And it better stay that way.”

  “We’ll help Ma,” Doug said. “We know she can’t do it all herself.”

  Margaret’s jaw dropped. What?

  “If she can’t manage, we’ll go to the post office and get you,” Doug continued.

  “Mercantile,” Bob corrected. “He’s not a post master.”

  “Oh, right. Mercantile.” Doug grinned widely at her. “You don’t have to worry. We’ll help.”

  She sighed but turned so they wouldn’t see her roll her eyes. She was a grown woman for goodness’ sakes! Besides, her mother lived three blocks away...should things get out of hand. But she was determined it wouldn’t.

  Joseph placed his hand on the small of her back and kissed her cheek. “I meant no disrespect and neither do the boys.”

  Her frustration cooled. “Alright.” She gave him a hug. “We’ll see you at three.”

  “Have a good day. Bye, boys.”

  “Bye, Pa!” Bob yelled as he jumped up from the table, knocking the chair over in the process.

  Doug called out to Bob as he bolted for the steps. “You got to stay and help Ma!”

  “Oh. Yes.” Bob dutifully returned to the table and picked up his dishes.

  With a loud sigh, Joseph strode to the front door and grabbed his hat off a hook. “I think it’s you who needs a good day,” he called out to Margaret as he left.

  Ben giggled and grabbed for the tablecloth and pulled on it.

  Margaret ran over to him and stopped him before he could drag the remaining dishes so that they fell to the floor.

  “Ma, Charles needs a washing.” Doug held up Charles’ yolk covered hands.

  “Just his hands,” Bob added.

  “Here. Let’s go to the pump,” Doug told Charles as he practically dragged his brother off his chair.

  Charles tripped and fell to the floor. He let out a loud wail, and it was in that instant, Margaret truly began to understand how much work four little boys could be.

  Chapter Nine

  By the time Margaret got the children out of the house and to the park, she was ready to sit down at the bench. It wasn’t that the morning had been a bad one. But she was tired. She considered that some of her exhaustion was due to the little sleep she’d gotten for the past two nights. The night before her wedding, she couldn’t sleep much, and last night had been her wedding night. Naturally, all of that led to her inability to sleep.

  Now that she was married, she could get settled into a routine, which meant she could relax. It was after lunch, Ben and Charles had been changed, and Bob had found the soccer ball he’d packed. So now the boys were ready to run around and play in the grass.

  She sat down on the first bench she found and exhaled. It felt good to get off her feet. It was 1:30. In an hour and a half, Joseph would come home. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. Her new home was as quaint as she remembered, and she knew she was going to enjoy living there.

  She turned her attention back to the four boys who had gathered around her. Ben bent down to retrieve a rock off the ground and seemed particularly interested in inspecting it. Charles held onto her skirt but watched his older two brothers.

  “We should play in that spot,” Bob told Doug, motioning to the patch of grass not too far from her. He glanced at her. “Will you watch us?”

  “Yes,” she replied. What else would she do?

  “Great. Come on, Doug.”

  The two older boys darted for the field, but Ben and Charles remained by her. She picked them up and set them on the bench with her. Ben, however, squirmed right back down to see if he could find more rocks. Charles snuggled up to her, so she put an arm around him. It would take them time to adjust to being with her and their new home.

  “Ma! Over here!” Bob called out.

  Taking her eyes off of Charles, she looked at Bob who dropped the rubber ball on the ground. He gave her a big smile before he kicked it. Doug didn’t seem as intent on having her watch him while he managed to steal the ball from Bob.

  For the moment, no one needed anything. They were content and peaceful. With a sigh, she grinned in amusement as Doug and Bob showed off their skills. She had to admit they were cute.

  Ben nudged her in the knee so she glanced at him. He held out a handful of the rocks he’d collected. She wasn’t sure what to do so she waited. Then he dumped the rocks into her lap and resumed his search for more of them. She frowned. Exactly what did he plan to do with them? And how many did he plan to gather?

  “I see you went ahead and married my Joseph,” came an all-too-familiar voice.

  Margaret’s skin bristled. She shouldn’t be surprised that Debra Potter decided to stick around, but there was nothing Debra could do at this point. “Why are you here?” Might as well come right out and ask the obvious.

  Debra sat next to Margaret and adjusted her hat. She patted Ben on the head. “Hello there, Benny.”

  “His name isn’t Benny. It’s Ben,” Margaret snapped. “And I don’t recall inviting you to sit with me.”

  She shrugged and tugged on the sleeves of her dress. “I don’t recall asking.”

  Margaret’s cheeks flushed with anger.

  “As for Benny... I’ve been calling him that ever since he was born.” She shot Margaret a pointed look. “I was there when all of these children were born. I know them better than you do.”

  “I don’t see what that has to do with anything. Joseph made his choice-”

  “As silly as it was.”

  “Silly or not, the matter is done. There’s no going back and undoing any of it.”

  “It’s not fair.” Debra crossed her arms and glared at her. “I’ve known him forever. I grew up with him. I used to bake him cookies and give him a cool glass of lemonade when it was hot outside. I was always there to offer him anything he needed.”

  “So you made a pest of yourself.”

  She gasped and put her hand up to her throat. “Why, I did no such thing.”

  Margaret shook her head. “I wonder what Hannah thought.”

  “Hannah was my dearest, closest friend.”

  “I’m sure.” Margaret didn’t hide her sarcasm. If Debra was this annoying to her—a stranger, then she had no doubt she was unbearable to poor Hannah.

  “It’s true.”

  Margaret rolled her eyes.

  “Fine. Don’t believe me. But I’ll tell you something. It was her dying wish that I’d take care of Joseph and his children. Do you think it’s right to interfere with a woman’s dying wish?”

  “Joseph is an adult. He can make his own decisions.”

  Ben placed another handful of rocks into Margaret’s lap and resumed his search for more. This time, however, the quest took him further from the bench, which was a good thing, Margaret decided, because it meant that he didn’t have to bear the ravings of the lunatic sitting next to her.

  Margaret nudged Charles. “Why don’t you play ball with Doug and Bob?”

  Charles seemed reluctant but got off the bench and took his time going to the two boys who laughed as they kicked the ball down the lawn.

  Margaret turned so she was facing her opponent. “I don’t know what you hope to accomplish by bugging me. The vows have been said and the marriage sealed, so there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  Debra frowned. “You’ll give up. I’ve seen how much work those children are, and you’ll run off as soon as things get rough.”

  “You underestimate me. I
’m not one to give up easily.”

  “You don’t know a thing about children. You’re in over your head. Right now, they’re on their best behavior because you’re new. But what’ll happen when they get used to having you around?”

  “Then I’ll also get used to them and be able to adjust accordingly.”

  Debra cackled as if that was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “Oh my dear, Margie—”

  “Margaret.”

  She shrugged. “You are quite the optimist, aren’t you?”

  Hardly. But what did Debra know about her? It wasn’t that Margaret considered herself a pessimist. No. She rather fancied the term ‘realist’ to describe her. But she did know the proper term to describe a woman like Debra who insisted on wiggling into another woman’s marriage. Being a lady, of course, held Margaret’s tongue in check. Taking a deep breath, she finally said, “You are welcome to leave.”

  From across the field, Charles let out a loud scream while Bob pushed him to the ground.

  Startled, Margaret bolted to her feet. The rocks on her skirt went tumbling onto the grass, and Ben, who had just collected another handful and was on his way back to her, dropped his new rocks to the ground, threw back his head, and wailed in utter despair.

  “What did you do that for?” Margaret asked Bob who held onto the ball.

  “He isn’t in the game!” Bob called out.

  “I told him to go over there and play with you.”

  “You did? But why? He’s just three. He can’t play good.”

  “But you’re his brother.”

  He looked at her as if he had no idea why that should make any difference.

  “Just play with him,” she said. “You’re brothers and that makes you friends.”

  Doug and Bob glanced at each other and shook their heads.

  “Do it!” she demanded.

  Bob sighed and dropped the ball in front of Charles who stopped screaming and grabbed it.

  From behind her, Debra chuckled. “You really are not prepared for this.”

  “Don’t you have someone else you can annoy?” Margaret snapped.

  Then she spun on her heel and picked up a still wailing Ben who pointed to the rocks. Sighing, she placed him back down and helped him collect his rocks. She handed them to him, relieved that he was, once again, smiling, and led him back to the bench. She gritted her teeth when she realized Miss Potter was watching everything in obvious amusement.

  She didn’t know whether she should find another bench or haul the boys back home. Another part of her wondered why she should have to go anywhere. She’d been here first. Debra was the one who interfered in this pleasant afternoon. Crossing her arms, she narrowed her eyes at the other woman and got ready for a confrontation of the likes which Debra had never seen.

  Just as she was about to let Miss Potter have it, a rubber ball hit her in the backside and a boy tackled her. She stumbled and, unable to find her footing, fell back until she landed in the grass.

  A shrill laugh cut through the apologies of Bob and Charles. Ignoring them, she turned her attention to Connie James and groaned. As if it wasn’t bad enough to fall in front of Debra! She had to deal with prissy Connie James too?

  Bob and Doug held their hands out to Margaret. “We’re sorry, Ma,” Bob said. “Can we help you up?”

  Connie nudged her good friend, Maureen Brown, in the side and whispered something in her ear.

  Debra glanced at Connie and then turned her attention back to Margaret and snickered.

  Face flushed with anger, Margaret decided she’d had enough. She got to her feet and straightened her skirt. “If you have a comment to make, the least you can do is say it to my face.”

  Debra’s eyebrows rose, as if surprised.

  Connie and Maureen looked at Margaret.

  “Well?” Margaret demanded, not hiding the irritation in her voice. When they didn’t speak, she continued, “If you have the nerve to laugh and whisper in front of me, then you might as well get on with it!”

  “Don’t give our ma trouble,” Bob said, clinging to her hand.

  Debra frowned.

  “Yeah,” Doug agreed. “We like our new ma. She made cookies and tea punch.”

  Then Debra grinned. “Bribing them to be good, are we?”

  Connie shook her head. “Giving children sweets. I hope you gave them something healthy like an apple while you were filling them up with sugar.”

  “I suppose that is how she gets them to behave,” Debra said.

  Connie and Maureen turned appreciative gazes in Miss Potter’s direction. “An astute observation,” Connie said.

  “Very,” Maureen agreed.

  Debra shot Margaret a triumphant look.

  Bob moved so he was in front of Margaret. “We don’t care what you think. She’s a good ma.”

  Connie clucked her tongue. “That boy has a mouth on him.”

  “Disrespectful,” Maureen said.

  “They wouldn’t do that if they were mine,” Debra added.

  “My Peter never spoke that way when he was that age,” Connie said. “In fact, he doesn’t do that now as an adult. Mrs. Connealy, you would do well to keep those children in line.”

  “To be fair to her,” Debra began, “she had them thrust upon her when she posted an ad for a husband. She is ill-equipped for motherhood.”

  Connie frowned. “What kind of woman has to post an ad for a man? I heard this was the case but thought it was mere hearsay.”

  “It’s sad, Connie,” Maureen told her friend. “There’s no need to remind her to the depths she had to go to in order to secure a man.”

  “I just never heard of that being necessary, that’s all.” Connie shrugged. “Poor thing, really.”

  Margaret gritted her teeth and got ready to tell all three hags exactly what they could do with their opinions when Doug tugged on her hand.

  “Uh...Ma?”

  She looked down at him.

  “I think Charles needs a bath,” he said.

  She turned around and noticed that Charles’ recent bowel movement was trickling down his leg.

  Bob’s eyes widened. “Oh, we forgot to tell you. He’s allergic to cow’s milk. He can have goat’s milk though.”

  With little else to do but take care of the immediate problem, Margaret picked up Ben who had a few pebbles in his mouth. Startled, she swept the small rocks out of it. He, naturally, didn’t like this because he threw his head back and cried right into her ear. She braced herself against the loud screaming and went over to Charles so she could take his hand.

  “Let’s go home,” she told him.

  “We’ll help you, Ma!” Doug said.

  “Yep.” Bob added, tucking the ball under his arm. “We’ve been through this before. We’ll show you how to give him a bath.”

  Aware that they had an audience and deciding not to lose her temper in front of the children, Margaret led everyone back to the house which was, thankfully, across the street so Charles didn’t get too messy. She could feel the women’s disapproving eyes bearing into her back.

  Even as her face flushed red with anger, she felt tears sting her eyes. But she refused to let them see how their words affected her. One thing she knew was that it was a mistake to let anyone know how much they could hurt her because then they’d know her weakness. If Debra Potter knew her weakness, she would undoubtedly use that to her advantage in the future. And if there was one thing she wouldn’t give Debra Potter, it was more ammunition for her attacks.

  Once she got the boys into the house, she opted to close the door quietly, even though she wanted to slam it in frustration. As great as the temptation was to look back and through the window to see if they were still watching, she didn’t. Nor would the children give her time to. While Doug ran to retrieve the tub, Charles bent down touch his wet pants. Well, it was time to get to work.

  She made a mental note to never give Charles cow milk again.

  Chapter Ten

  Margar
et wiped the sweat from her brow as she bathed Charles. Charles giggled, filled the cup with water, and dumped it on his head. This sent him into another round of giggles before he filled the cup again. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned from the metal tub set to the side of the kitchen.

  “Doug, can you hand me that towel?” she called out.

  She went to the other tub and added more soap to the hot water before she scrubbed Charles’ pants on the washboard.

  Doug dutifully came over to her with the towel in his hands.

  She motioned for him to give the towel to Charles when Bob came running into the room. “Ben’s on the work table!”

  A glance over her shoulder showed her that, sure enough, Ben had dragged a chair across the floor and was standing up on the table. Without a thought, she dropped the pants and rushed to get Ben down, but it was too late. He’d already reached up on a nearby shelf and pulled down the canister of sugar. As she pulled it out of his arms, the lid popped off and some of the brown sugar settled to the table and floor. Before Ben could bend down to lick it off the table, she put the canister down, picked him up and placed him in the highchair.

  “Doug, how do I get this tray in?” she asked.

  She struggled to make the thing fit, even as Ben squirmed out of his seat. She grunted and set him back down just in time for Doug to reach her and latch the tray into place. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves. Alright. She’d get Charles out of the bath and dressed. Then she’d tackle the sugar.

  “Uh...Ma?” Bob placed Charles’ new clothes on the kitchen table.

  “What?” She spun around in time to see Bob pointing to Charles who was dumping cupfuls of water out of the tub. “Charles! Stop!”

  She avoided the sugar-coated floor and hastened to the happy boy.

  “Here’s the towel, Ma.” Doug shoved it in her face as she took the cup from Charles.

  She stared at the towel and tried to decide what to do first. Did she take care of Charles or the large puddle on the floor? Everything was happening so fast. If everything would just stop for one moment, she could figure out how to best do what and in what order.