Promises to Keep - Ann Tatlock [100]
“Why, Roz,” she said, “I expected you to be in bed by now.”
Mrs. Kinshaw waved a hand and hooted in amusement. “I’m afraid we lost track of time, Janis, dear. Roz and I have just been talking away like a couple of chatterboxes.”
Speak for yourself, I thought. Aloud, I said, “I’m glad you’re home, Mom. How’s Mr. Monroe?”
“He’s just fine. He was sleeping soundly when we left.”
“Thanks be to God,” Tillie added as she slowly unbuttoned her coat. “Both Lyle and I are still alive and well. Lyle came through the surgery just fine and should be out of the hospital in a couple of days. As for me, I’m tired. I feel as though I’ve been broadsided by a train.”
“It’s been a long day for you, Tillie,” Mom agreed. “Why don’t you go on upstairs and get some rest.”
Tillie nodded. “I’m not going to argue with you there, Janis. My feet are yelling ‘Traitor!’ and my bones are begging me to lay them down for the night.”
“Well, you go on then,” Mom said with a small, wan smile. She looked pretty weary herself. “Esther, thanks for taking care of the girls. Can I reimburse you for your time?” She unsnapped her purse and dug around for her wallet.
Mrs. Kinshaw shook her head. “I wouldn’t hear of it, Janis. What are neighbors for, if not to help each other? No, I’m just glad to do it.”
“Well, thank you. You’ve been a huge help. Can I at least walk you home?”
“You don’t even have to do that, dear. I don’t imagine I’ll get lost between here and the house next door.”
Mom wiggled out of her coat, then walked to the hall closet to help Mrs. Kinshaw on with hers. As they stood at the front door a moment and talked, Tillie moved to the kitchen sink to get herself a drink of water. “Oh, Roz, I almost forgot,” she said. When the glass was full, she turned off the faucet, took a long drink, and settled the glass on the counter. “Lyle said to tell you it was a friend of yours who drove him to the hospital and stayed with him last night. Nelson Knutson. He said something about your meeting this fellow at the library. Anyway, Lyle wanted you to know he thinks the world of Mr. Knutson now. He says Mr. Knutson stuck with him just like a brother right up to the minute he had to leave for work this morning.”
“Are you talking about that man from the boardinghouse?” Mom asked, joining us in the kitchen. When Tillie nodded, Mom said, “Good thing he was around to help. Lyle says he’s the only boarder at the house who owns a car. Or, at least one that runs. We’ll have to thank him for what he did.”
“I intend to do that very thing,” Tillie agreed. “Soon as Lyle’s out of the hospital, we’ll go on over to Charlotte’s and thank that young man for his good deed.”
Mom nodded and kissed the top of my head. “We used to have a neighbor by the name of Nelson Knutson. Remember, Roz?”
Mom started putting away the clean dishes on the rack while Tillie said good-night and headed for the stairs. I stood dumbfounded in the middle of the kitchen, sure that the smallest move would leave me unraveling at the seams.
Finally I mustered up the strength to say, “Sure. I remember him. Well, I’m going to go to bed now, Mom. I’m really tired.”
I slunk off and slowly climbed the stairs, wondering how Daddy was going to get himself out of this one.
chapter
43
When I stepped into homeroom the next morning, Miss Fremont motioned me to her desk. “I just wanted to thank you for the chocolates, Roz.”
Puzzled, I watched as she patted a large box of Whitman’s with her fingertips. “Your uncle Nelson said they were from you and” – here her thin painted lips hinted at a smile – “from him as well.”
I felt my eyebrows reach for each other across the bridge of my nose. “My uncle Nelson?” I asked warily.
“Why yes,” she said. She smoothed her heavily teased hair and pushed her cat-eye glasses