Shattered Trail

Chapter Six

This time, the wait for the reply from the Reeds seems so much longer, even though it’s only been four days since my interview. Today is Sunday, and as I walk to church, I think about my interview- what I’ve been doing for pretty much every waking moment since Wednesday. I pray that I didn’t sound too inexperienced, or snobbish, or immature, or anything else that I could possibly sound that the Reeds wouldn’t like. I ponder everything I could have done wrong. Did I sound like I was boasting when I told them I could fend for myself? I wonder. Should I have gone more into depth about being good with children? Shaking my head, I chastise myself for thinking like that. The butler said that Mrs. Reed liked me, and that I was the only one who applied. I shouldn’t be concerned at all.

My skirts swish as I quickly step toward the church. I see Florence Ortner traverse the stairs up to the door, and I automatically wait a minute outdoors, leaning against the brick building. As soon as I feel that she’s a good ways indoors, I climb up the steps and walk into the warm church. I really don’t want to have to converse with Florence, after what she asked me last Sunday. I she wasn’t trying to be rude, but I just can’t bring myself to talk to her.

Sliding into the pew, I greet Mr. and Mrs. Emmerson, who are already sitting down. Mrs. Emmerson grasps my hand. “You will come for dinner today, dear, right? We’re having beef, and we can look at fabric to make you a new dress!”

I agree. “Of course I’ll come. I haven’t had beef for weeks. And I really appreciate you saving fabric for a dress for me, Faith.”

She waves her hand in the air. “Anything for you, dear.” She starts to say something else, but then the service starts, and we have to stay quiet.

*************

After church, we walk back to the Emmerson’s house, which is connected to the back of the store. Mrs. Emmerson starts to make dinner, and I try to help, but she won’t let me. “It’s your day to rest, day. I have my husband here to help me the rest of the week, but you have no one. You just sit.” I tried to stand up again, but she pointed the knife she was cutting the vegetables with toward the table and chairs. “Sit.”

Smiling, I backed up and sat down as quickly as I could. She laughed, to show me she was joking. “This will be ready soon. After dinner, we can go choose some fabric for your dress.”

I nod and rest my elbows on the table. During dinner, I’m going to tell the Emmerson’s about my job application and the interview. If I do get the job, they should know about it.

Mrs. Emmerson sticks her head into the door connecting the door to the shop. “Roy!” she calls to Mr. Emmerson, who’s tinkering around with something in the store. “Dinner!”

After a minute, he appears. “Ah! I was getting hungry.” We all sit down, and after a quick prayer, we begin to eat. I have to stop myself from devouring the meat in one bite- I haven’t had anything but bread, eggs, and a few berries for the last week or so. I force myself to put my fork down and take a sip of milk -another treat I almost never have- in between bites of beef.

“So, Antonia,” Mr. Emmerson says kindly, “What have you been doing these last few days?”

I know that this is when I should tell them about my interview. “Well, I answered an ad in the paper. I applied for a position to watch the children of the Reed family-” I swallow nervously, “while we travel on the Oregon Trail.”

The Emmerson’s are silent for a minute, and my stomach somersaults. Then, “Oh, Antonia, that’s fantastic!” Mrs. Emmerson cries. “Of course, I’m sad that you might leave us. But that’s just wonderful, dear.”