She didn’t mind the constant dusting. It became part of her routine when she wasn’t trying to keep the boys under control. The lemon in her coffee and frogs in her bed that Myrtle mentioned were pranks that the boys had apparently used before so she was expecting them. She scolded the boys but was never harsh, leaving them thinking of more things to do to her. She wasn’t sure how to put a stop to it.
On her third Monday morning as their new mother, she woke to the usual morning scent of coffee. Andrew never woke her before he left and he was not talkative when he came home. He had not told her about any of his days or the creations he was working on in his business though it was something she would have been interested in hearing.
Andrew never discouraged Ella from reading her books. In fact, Myrtle had even bought her a new one when she finished Sherlock Holmes A Study inScarlet. It was a fantastic book and had become one of Ella’s all-time favorites. She was looking forward to reading more about the British detective at 221B Baker Street. So far, she had only had a chance to read to Carl. The other boys refused to sit long enough to listen.
This morning, she heard a crash downstairs and immediately jumped up from her bed. She pulled on her robe and slid her small feet into a pair of slippers Myrtle had also purchased for her. She hurried down the hallways to the den and pushed the door open.
“Raymie? Peter? Fred? Carl?” She said each of their names, even though there was no one in the room. She glanced around for hiding places and scanned the curtains and furniture for little feet or tufts of hair so she could see where they were. In the corner of the room, a large vase had fallen to the floor, shattering it into a million pieces. She was instantly afraid, thinking of what her father would have done if something like that had happened in his house.
But she wasn’t caring for her father’s house anymore. She was caring for her husband’s, a man she barely knew, even two and a half weeks in.
“Oh dear,” she said loudly so that small listening ears would hear. “Oh, my! Andrew will be so unhappy about this. I can’t imagine who could have done it!” She silently picked up a small hard ball that was still rocking in place under a table near the smashed vase. She slipped the ball into her pocket. “Oh dear.” She shook her head. “Could this have been a ghost? Oh, how will I tell Andrew there is a ghost in this house!”
She heard the sound of a small gasp from the other side of the open door into the foyer. It was followed by several muffled sounds of “shhh”.
“What will I do? A ghost!” She said again, directing her words toward the doorway.
“Oh! Oh, oh, is there really a ghost? Is there, Miss Ella?” Carl came running into the room and threw himself into Ella’s skirt, balling it up and pressing his face into it. She put one hand on his back and patted him.
“Shut your bazoo, Carl!” Raymie said in an irritating voice, also coming into the room. “You know it wasn’t a ghost! She’s just trying to scare you.”
Ella shook her head. “I wasn’t trying to scare him, Raymie. I was just trying to draw you, four boys, out. You did this, didn’t you? With this?” She pulled the ball out of her pocket and held it out for them to see. The other two boys were poking their heads around to see what she was doing. They came in the room, looking distraught and threw themselves on the couch. Peter hung his head, his small cheeks red. Freddie pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. Raymie was the one who appeared most upset, crossing his arms over his chest and plopping down on a big high-backed chair sitting next to the couch.
“I get bored around here!” He said angrily.
“I’m sure you do. You should be in school.”
“We don’t need to go to school!” He said abruptly. “We won’t need that when we’re working here on this farm.”
“Surely your papa will let you go to the schoolhouse if you want to.”
“I don’t want to!” Raymie exclaimed, giving her a furious look.
“You don’t?”
“He does, too!” Peter said, quietly. Raymie glared at him. “Well, you do, Raymie. I heard you telling Freddie even just a couple of days ago. You said you wanted to learn to read, and you were mad because you don’t know how.”
“I do know how to read!”
“No, you don’t.” Peter shook his head.
“You don’t know how to read, Raymie?” Ella was surprised and disappointed. She would have thought that at least the oldest one would have learned that by now. “It’s very important that you know how to read. Especially since you want to work on the farm.”
“I don’t want to work on the farm!” Suddenly Raymie stood up; his small fists clenched and his eyes filled with tears. Ella’s heart broke looking up at him. She took a step closer and reached out to him, but he pulled away. “I want to work in a bank! It’s not fair!” He bolted out of the room and up the stairs. A few moments later, the door to his room was slammed shut.
Ella was left in shock. He was so embarrassed. She hadn’t meant to embarrass him. Freddie gave her a smile and walked out without a word. Shortly afterward, Peter followed, never taking his eyes off the floor. Both boys went up the steps.
Ella looked down at Carl, who was staring up at her. “He’s mad,” Carl said.
Ella nodded and looked at the stairs. “Yes, I think he is mad.”
She leaned down and picked the little boy up, resting him on her hip. He was too big to carry like a baby, but he held on to her as if he was one. She carried him up the stairs and opened Raymie’s door without knocking. She set Carl down and surveyed the scene. Peter and Freddie were simply sitting on Raymie’s bed while the young boy pressed his face into his pillow. Carl immediately went to the bed, climbed up on it and covered his oldest brother with a hug, resting his cheek on Raymie’s back and wrapping his small arms around his brother as much as he could.
Raymiedidn’t move, accepting his little brother’s love without a word. Again, Ella felt her heart melt for the boys and their obvious love for each other. She went to the bed and sat in an open area, placing one hand on Raymie’s shoulder.
“I am so sorry I embarrassed you, Raymie. Please don’t be upset anymore. I tell you, you can be happy about one thing.”
“What’s that?” Raymie’s voice was muffled but sounded hopeful.
“You can learn to read any time in your life. I have three younger brothers at home, and I taught them all to read. My papa thought that reading and having an education was very important, even for a girl! So he taught me and I taught them. I can teach you, too, if you want.”
Raymie sat up but didn’t look at her. Carl transferred himself to Ella, draping himself over her back and wrapping his arms around her neck. She lifted one hand and patted his arms instinctively, feeling a great deal of affection for the little tyke.
“I can learn to read?”
“Of course, you have just as much…” Something behind Raymie on the wall caught her attention, and she focused on it. All four boys looked up at her face when she suddenly stopped talking. “What is this?” She mumbled to herself. She stood up, taking Carl with her as he wrapped his legs around her waist so she could piggy-back him. She carried him to the wall and bent down. There was a bit of wallpaper torn away. She lifted her fingers, grabbed it and pulled it so that it ripped some more. She heard a gasp behind her and Freddie spoke up.
“That’s wallpaper Papa put up just for Raymie. It’s his favorite color. He’s gonna be mad.”
Ella continued to rip the wallpaper off, feeling a bit of nervous excitement flow through her. She lowered Carl to the floor and ripped even more down. Behind the green wallpaper, there were pages and pages of newspaper. The section that had caught her eye read in big bold letters Jim Smiley and his Jumping Frog. Someone had covered the wall with an old New York Saturday Press from 1865. She was shocked that it was still readable after all the years that had passed.
“We can start now if you like.” She looked back to smile at the four boys. Their eyes had widened, and they looked at
the wall curiously. “I can read this story to you. It’s a very interesting story about a man and his jumping frog. Would you like for me to read it to you?”
“Yes, yes, Miss Ella!” Freddie was the first one to respond, and his brothers followed suit quickly. Even Raymie had regained his composure and came over to look at the words on the wall.
An hour later, Andrew came through the front door and stood still for a moment. The house was quiet. It was never quiet. He looked around suspiciously, noticing the broken vase that had been partially cleaned up. He glanced down the hallway and then up the stairs nervously.
“Boys?” he called out and took the stairs up two at a time. The first door to the right was Raymie’s so he swung it open.
He didn’t expect to see his four sons sitting on the floor surrounding Ella. Carl was once again on her back. She appeared to be reading from papers they had ripped down from the wall.
“What is going on?”
Freddie was the first one on his feet to run toward his father.
“Papa!” he called out excitedly. “Mama Ella is teaching us to read! She says we don’t have to go to the schoolhouse if we don’t want to and that she’ll teach us right here. But I want to go to the schoolhouse, papa, that’s where other kids are! AndRaymie wants to be a banker, papa! He does!”
With that, the other three boys approached their father and started talking all at once.
“Whoa, my sons!” Andrew laughed. He gestured for Ella to come to him, as well. She got to her feet and approached slowly. He noticed she looked nervous and shook his head, reaching out to touch her cheek and brush a loose strand of hair away from her face, gently pushing it behind her ear.
“Is this true? You would like to teach my sons? You don’t mind being here with them all the time?”
She shook her head. “Not at all, Andrew. I would be proud to teach them. They are lovely boys, you know.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You are the first to say that, my dear. I am glad. I am very glad.” He pulled her into a hug that she didn’t expect. She put her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his chest with a sigh. Tingles covered her when he whispered in her ear. “Do you think you can take a grouchy old man and fall in love with him, too?”
She looked up at his deep green eyes and had to admit it. “Yes,” she said. “I think I already have.”
“I have been distant,” he said in a low voice.
“I have been watching. You are a good father and a good man with plenty to be concerned about. You work hard for these boys. They know it and so do I. I am proud to be here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m so happy to hear that, Ella. I really am.”
He lowered his head and gave her a kiss, which she returned. It was the warmest, best kiss she had ever had. And it was only the beginning.
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The Duke of Ice Page 99