Through the Darkness: Of Love and Loss Series Book One

48

Friday, February 20, 1920

By the time Daphne and her family were due to arrive in town, Elyria didn't know how much longer she could stay cooped up indoors without losing her mind.

It didn't matter if she sat on the couch, lay in bed, or lounged in the reading chair like she was now. Comfort had become a foreign word she remembered with fondness and longed to experience again.

Everett prohibited her from accompanying him to the train station to pick them up despite her varied pleas for an escape from her little prison.

So, to occupy her mind and hands, she decided to knit. The fact she'd already knitted four blankets for the twins and a sweater for Everett didn't matter. She was desperate.

The clock on the mantel chimed 7:00 pm just moments before she heard the low rumble of the car pull into the driveway.

Daphne's quiet laughter and Everett and Simon's voices followed, growing louder as they approached the back door.

"But I'm not tired, Mama," Anne whined, "I'm hungry."

"Believe me," Daphne sighed, "I know."

"How about we have a little something to eat," Simon murmured with a chuckle, "then we'll get you three settled down for the night. It's been a long day, and we can all use some rest."

"But I want to see our house," Anne pouted, "you promised."

Daphne clucked her tongue.

"Don't look at me that way, dear," Simon laughed. "You know just as well as I do where she gets that particular expression from."

"She's your daughter, through and through, my love." Daphne blew out a breath and opened the door, "We'll go see the house tomorrow, Anne. If you continue this whining, it'll be straight to bed with you, and you won't get any supper."

Anne started to cry. "But I'm hungry."

"Heaven save me from six-year-olds," Daphne muttered, stepping into the house. "Elyria," she cried out with a burst of happiness.

Everyone shuffled indoors, and suddenly, Daphne bent down, wrapping Elyria in a hug. "You look miserable, dearest."

"I am," she laughed, "but I'm so glad you're finally here."

Daphne stood and tucked an errant lock of hair behind Elyria's ear. "Everett said you've been stuck on bed rest for over two months now."

Everett gently touched Elyria's right shoulder and bent to place a kiss on her cheek. "Are you doing alright?"

Elyria set her knitting aside and nodded, unsure what to say that wouldn't sound like unadulterated complaining. So, rubbing her belly to soothe a twinge of pain from a double kick, she smiled and shrugged. "How was your trip?"

"Let's just say it proved educational. Anne is six going on thirty, and William hit his terrible two streak halfway through the rolling plains of Nebraska." Daphne sat on the ottoman with a weary sigh. "It wouldn't have been so awful if I hadn't depleted my reserves of chocolate bars before we arrived in Chicago."

"And mine," Simon added over by the table. "How you learned of my secret stash, I'll never know."

Elyria giggled.

Daphne barked a laugh. "And I'll never tell."

"Mama," Anne cried, "William won't stop touching me."

Simon and Daphne sighed in unison.

Elyria bit back a grin and settled more comfortably in her chair. "We have leftovers warming on the stove from supper tonight—meatloaf, potatoes with brown gravy, and green beans."

"D'you hear that, Annie girl?" Simon said with strained cheerfulness. "You love meatloaf."

"I hate meatloaf," Anne said with a sharp stomp of her foot.

"Since when?" Simon asked, defeated.

"Since always, Papa," she wept, dramatically crumpling to the floor.

Daphne grumbled an unladylike curse under her breath, then stood. "Pollyanna Morton... get up. If I hear one more complaint out of your mouth tonight, you will go straight to bed, and that is the end of it."

Anne hmmphed and pouted.

Daphne sighed. "Go sit at the table. We're going to eat. Then all of us are going to bed for some much-needed sleep."

Elyria bit back a grin and resumed knitting, enjoying the moment and all its familiarity. If she didn't know better, she could almost believe they were back in their row house in DC.

For the next several minutes, the soft clatter of utensils against porcelain dishes mixed with the low conversation between the adults. Dishes were cleared and washed before Daphne and Simon ushered their children off to bed, promising better attitudes in the morning.

A few moments after the guest bedroom door closed, Elyria gasped softly and clamped her eyes shut against another series of sharp little kicks. When the pain passed, she let out a slow breath and rubbed her belly. "I think I'm ready to lie down, too," she murmured, struggling to stand.

"How are you feeling?" Everett asked quietly, helping her to her feet. "You look a little paler than usual."

"I'm fine," Elyria whispered with a nod. She gave his hands at her waist a reassuring pat. "Just tired of being a punching bag."

He kissed her, then walked beside her toward their room with an arm around her waist. "Don't worry. In no time at all, we'll be reminding our children of their love of meatloaf and doing our best to remain calm in the face of their tantrums."

Elyria scoffed. "When you put it that way, my current situation doesn't sound too bad."