Part 7 (1/2)
”Everything all right, folks?” I asked. Perhaps I was just a wee bit brusque because no one, not even the Congressman, responded right away. Like the obedient child I used to be, they ate in silence.
”Got any more of that delicious apple b.u.t.ter you served last night?” asked Delbert after a while.
”Coming right up.”
”Any more of that nice, crisp bacon?” asked the Congressman, suddenly coming to life. For a second I was flattered, but then he added, ”Or were those charcoal briquettes?”
”He's only kidding, aren't you, dear?” said Lydia quickly. Her face had colored to the point that it almost matched her s.h.i.+rt. Frankly, I felt more sorry for her than I did angry at the Congressman. I got paid to put up with his rudeness. She, on the other hand, paid his bills. At least that's what the papers said.
”The h.e.l.l I am,” he snapped. ”The food here is garbage. The service stinks. The ”
Lydia clamped a dainty, manicured hand over her husband's mouth. She couldn't have been more foolish had she tried to muzzle Shnook.u.ms. The Congressman may not have been in the habit of biting, but he showed no hesitation when it came to hitting. The blow he gave her was on the side of the head and with the palm of his hand. It was hard enough so that she tipped back in her chair and had to struggle to regain her balance. Why he simply didn't push her hand away, was beyond me. Papa had never hit Mama to my knowledge, nor she him, and neither of them would so much as raise their voice in front of strangers, no matter how vexed they got.
”What the h.e.l.l!” said Delbert, jumping up, but beyond that he made no move to intervene.
”Stay out of this,” growled the Congressman. ”This is a family matter.” He stood up himself and grabbed his wife by the arm. ”Bring the car around in half an hour,” he said, presumably to Delbert, then he dragged his wife out of the room.
Delbert sat mutely down. Not knowing what else to do, I scurried into the kitchen and got the apple b.u.t.ter. When I returned, Delbert was sitting just as I'd left him.
”Does he do that often?” I asked, setting the apple b.u.t.ter down in front of him.
Delbert appeared to shake himself mentally, and offered me a weak smile. ”Of course not.”
I leaned forward in my best conspiratorial stance. ”I don't vote,” I whispered. G.o.d forgives unselfish lies. ”And I can keep my trap shut tighter than a cork on a jug of raw cider.” Oh the shame of having read so many dime novels as a child.
”If he lays a hand on her one more time, I'll kill him.”
”Poor woman.” ”The man's a b.a.s.t.a.r.d. She doesn't deserve any of it.”
”Why does she put up with it?”
He shook his head. ”d.a.m.ned if I know. She doesn't need -him. It's him who needs her. Her money, her connections. He's just small potatoes politically, and will always be without her support.”
”Maybe it's love?” Love had never even managed to sweep me off my feet, much less moved me to accept being boxed up the side of the head.
”Love? Ha! Try pity.”
Even that was hard for me to understand. ”Maybe you're right. But why do you put up with him? Aren't there other Congressmen you could work for? Or, why not just run for office yourself?”
Delbert stirred the apple b.u.t.ter, like a witch stirring her pot. ”There are many mysteries to this world, aren't there, Miss Yoder?”
”The English are full of mysteries,” said Freni. I nearly jumped out of my shoes. ”Where in tarnation did you come from?”
”I work here, remember?”
”I thought you quit.”
”So, I un-quit. You want a cook for breakfast, don't you?”
I wasn't so sure. Now that the meat-eaters had eaten, and the veggie-devourers were about to descend. Freni might be more of a liability than an a.s.set. ”Why don't you cook breakfast for Mr. Grizzle when he comes down,” I suggested, ”and I'll handle those other picky eaters.”
Freni folded her stubby arms over her crisp, starched ap.r.o.n and glared. ”Magdalena, I am not the fool you take me for. I've got brains. I can tell when it's time to make a few changes. And I'm not such an old dog that I can't learn new tricks. If it's raw carrots those English want for breakfast, then that's what I'll give them.”
If I'd had any brains of my own, I would have come up with a good excuse and sent Freni home with pay. At least just for the next few days. But, alas, at times I can be stupider than Melvin Stoltzfus, who tried to milk a bull and got kicked in the head for his efforts. Mercifully, Melvin was thereafter never fully conscious of his blunder. If only I could be so lucky.
”Just kick me in the head,” I said to Freni, ”and start cooking.”
”What?”
”I think I'll leave you two ladies to your work and check in on the Congressman,” said Delbert politely. He was obviously a man who had been well brought up and knew when to be discreet.
After he'd gone, I began to clear off the table, but Freni didn't budge.
Well,” I said at last, ”isn't it time to start frying some eggless, milkless, buckwheat pancakes in vegetable oil, of course?”
”Not until you apologize.”
”For what?”
”For firing me, that's what!”
”I didn't fire you, dear. You quit!”
You should still apologize, Magdalena Yoder. Your mama would never have treated me this way.”
That did it. Even after ten years, just the mention of Mama or Papa has a powerful effect on me. Freni knew this and was playing dirty. What she didn't know was that I had been awakened in the wee hours by a screaming arachnophobiac and had been mangled by a midget mutt. Throw in a crumpled corpse, and I had a full plate. I was in no mood for one of her guilt trips.
”Okay, Freni. Since you 'un-quit,' I'll 'un-apologize.' ” I think Freni also has a Stoltzfus up her family tree.
”Apology accepted. Shall I serve b.u.t.ter with the pancakes?”
”Just put it on a plate for those who want it. Mr. Grizzle, however, gets bacon with his.”
Freni was remarkably cooperative that morning, and I confess to being lulled into a false sense of complacency. I didn't even get my feathers ruffled when Jeanette Parker came bustling in and demanded to know if the hunting party had left yet.
”I don't know,” I said honestly. ”Did they eat?”
I studied her calmly. She was wearing a loose, pajama-like outfit that looked as if it were made from burlap sacking. A matching strip of the coa.r.s.e brown fiber was tied around her head like a scarf, and knotted on top. The two ends stood almost straight up and looked for all the world like deer ears. Almost none of her carrot-red hair was showing.
”What color is your coat?” Too much had happened for me to remember it from the day before.
”What?”
”Your coat. Is it at least red or blue?”
”My coat is none of your d.a.m.ned business, Ms. Yoder!”