Chapter 13
The air in the dining room crackled with silent friction as I set to work.
I approached the table with a stack of porcelain rattling slightly in my hands, my body on edge.
Last night, Jacob had taken me to bed early and I’d fallen right to sleep after from exhaustion, so this was to be my first dinner with the family. I wanted it to go perfectly. Needed it.
The eldest girl, Esther, followed right behind me with an armful of forks and knives to set the table.
“Here, why don’t you do the plates?” I suggested.
“Yes, Aunt Hazel.” Esther was only ten and incredibly obedient already.
Jacob rose from his high-backed chair at the head of the long table. “Wait. Let me help you, Hazel dear.”
My stomach fluttered as he snatched the forks from my hand.
“Oh no, Jacob. I can do it. You shouldn’t mind yourself with such chores.”
“Nonsense. I can set a table.” With a gentle push, he moved me out of the way.
What was happening? I rarely saw my father do any kitchen work; it wasn’t his place. But Jacob seemed eager, teasing his daughter with a poke from a fork.
Jacob placed the utensil askew at the top of the plate.
“Father, that’s not right,” Esther said with an exasperated sigh.
“Are you sure?” he replied. At first, I thought he teased again, but his brow furrowed. “What about this?” He moved it to the bottom.
Esther rolled her eyes.
Jacob shrugged. “Well, I don’t know these things.”
“Then let us take care of it.” I placed my hand on his to take the remaining forks. Heat ricocheted where we touched.
Jacob gave me a helpless look, then relinquished his claim. “I suppose you’re right.”
He sank back into his chair. “I should leave it to you women. You truly do know better than I at these things.”
“Yes, I think that’s for the best.”
Men had their roles and we had ours. That was the way it should be … though setting the silverware had never appeared a hard task to me. I shook my head to throw away the thought.
Esther ran up the stairs to call her brothers as Flora and Prudence brought out platters of food.
The rest of the children shuffled into the room on her returning heels and took their places at the table.
I waited for them to converse or giggle, perhaps even fight over the best seats, but they were quiet.
The only sound was the scraping of chairs.
Prudence gave me a smile over the top of her son’s head beside her, motioning for me to sit at the chair closest to me—the spot opposite the head of the table, where Jacob sat watching us all with a little smile.
I hesitated, a voice in my head reminding me that I wasn’t worthy of an end seat, but finally sat when I realized the rest of the family was staring up at me.
Jacob cleared his throat. “Nephi?”
Nephi, the eldest at twelve years, peered up from his lap.
“Please bless the food.”
Every head bowed immediately. A few chairs squeaked as little bodies settled into them, but there were no grumbles of protest or squinting children spying on one another.
As Nephi pronounced his supplication to the Lord on our behalf, no one whispered or giggled, as so often happened with children.
The entire room felt wound tight by unseen cords.
Murmurs of “amen” scattered around the table when the prayer finished.
I expected to see hands shooting out to claim their food quickly like my family, but instead we watched our patriarch as he served himself.
All except for Abby, who watched the ceiling in a slouch like she pretended she wasn’t here at all.
“What wonderful dinner, Flora,” Jacob said. “How would we manage without you?”
Flora glowed. “Oh, the thanks should go to you for providing such a meal.”
Abigail made no attempt to hide her eye roll.
“Yes, thank you, Jacob. What do we say, children, for this bounty?” Prudence asked.
A chorus of thanks echoed around the dining room.
Jacob settled back into his chair, a king fit for his kingdom. “Begin, family.”
Again, I expected arms to grab for food, but instead, there was a slow and silent passing of plates and dishes.
Even with many bodies at the table, there was hardly a sound as the meal began.
The command and precision of the family was unlike I’d ever seen—nothing at all like the home I’d left behind.
I wondered whether the silence grew from my strangeness, whether lightness would return to the table as they grew used to me.
Or was I to endure these solemn meals forever?
My back prickled and I turned around. The windows behind me appeared to inspect me, and I shivered at the sense of being watched. I shook my head to force away the thought. Windows didn’t watch.
Perhaps I could lift this somber mood.
I turned to Esther. “How were your lessons today?”
She creaked her head up from her plate. I waited with my pasted-on smile trying to ignore the confused glances turning my way. Embarrassment washed through me. I’d done something wrong.
Down the table, Jacob motioned to his daughter. “Answer the question, Esther.”
“They were good, Aunt Hazel,” she replied, then went back to picking at her food like a little bird.
“I’m glad to hear that,” I said, my mouth barely moving. My head burned with more questions—what did she learn? How were the children taught in this home school? But the rule appeared to be silence at the table.
Edward’s words from early this morning drifted back to me—it likes it quiet. What was it?
A cup slammed against the wooden table. Every face turned upward. Abby cast a daring look at Jacob. With a sigh, he met her gaze.
“Jacob, darling, don’t you think we should give little Hazel a better welcome to our dinner table?” she said.
My chest buzzed with fear that this would only lead to more contention.
“She’s been welcomed, haven’t you, Hazel?” He looked between her and me like I was a coconspirator in some scheme he didn’t follow.
“Oh yes, I’m fine.” I shrank back against the hard wood of my chair.
Jacob gave me a handsome, lopsided grin that made my heart skip. Then he shifted back to Abby, who scoffed. “You know I don’t ask for much as the head of this household but a simple, silent family meal after a long day of working to provide for you all.”
“And you deserve it,” Flora said.
The windows rattled. Esther yelped in surprise, knocking the contents of my cup onto my plate with her elbow. The water souped through the pile of potatoes and carrots. I stared at the congealing mess as I reminded myself to breathe.
Jacob’s face dropped in disappointment. “Esther,” he scolded. “Look what you’ve done to your aunt’s food.”
“I’m so sorry—”
“No, no, it’s fine,” I said. “The windows scared me too.”
Jacob raised a brow as he appraised the pair of us. “It’s simply the wind. She knows better than to cause problems during dinnertime. Up to your room, Esther.”
“I’m sorry, Papa,” she said as she rose. I caught her eye and offered a sympathetic smile, which she didn’t return. Guilt twisted in my gut.
Jacob pressed his fingers to his temple. “As a matter of fact, children, you’re all excused. I think that’s enough excitement for one night and I’ve got a ghastly headache. Get to bed, please.”
Without a voice of complaint, the children quickly shoveled their last bites into their mouths.
They funneled through the kitchen door and back out again as if a trained little army depositing their plates.
Prudence scooped up Edward and trailed behind Nephi as they scampered back out of the dining room, the echo of their footsteps disappearing before they even reached the hallway.
Flora shot me a look of disdain. I’d caused nothing but trouble at dinner. It was amazing they didn’t simply toss me out the door and leave me to the elements. My heart beat back in a familiar pattern—my fault, my fault, my fault.
Abby’s shrill voice cut through the thick air. “Must you be so cruel to our daughter?” she asked, shoving her plate across the table until it collided with Flora’s with a clink.
“I’m teaching her, guiding her. Do you think God would allow rude behavior in His mansions?” Jacob said. “I will not lose my child to wickedness.”
Flora stood to remove her and Abby’s plates. “A firm hand is the way to lead a child to prosper,” she agreed as she backed away into the kitchen.
“It was only an accident,” I said.
Jacob sighed. “One day you will be blessed with our child and then you will see the hard choices we have to make as parents, Hazel.”
For some reason, the thought didn’t bring me any joy. I’d only ever imagined Elijah by my side with children, and I forced the invading images down deep in my mind.
“Well then.” Abigail tossed her napkin down to walk out. “If you wish for a firm hand, Jacob, I’d avoid my bed for a while as I won’t be supplying one. Though I doubt you’ll prefer anyone but Hazel’s hand for now,” she said over her shoulder as she disappeared.
Jacob and I sat facing each other at opposite ends of the chasm of an empty table. The urge to jump up and run overcame me, but why, I wasn’t entirely certain. My fingers slipped into my pocket and I remembered my chance for some hope.
“I should help Flora clean up,” I said at last.
Jacob nodded, his gaze staring off into the expanse.
“And I have a letter for my family. Will you take it to town with you when you go back, Jacob?”
“Hmm?” He directed his attention back to me. “Oh yes, yes, that should be fine.”
When I reached out to take his plate, he grabbed my wrist firmly. “You’re a good wife, Hazel. Ignore Abby. God is pleased with you as a helpmeet for me.”
My heartbeat raced. This was what I wanted—to please him and to please God. I did my duty, despite my many flaws. But nothing about this moment felt validating.
Jacob stood and pressed a kiss to my temple. “I will see you after you finish.”
As he left, a draft sank its claws into me. Jumbled whispers fluttered around the empty room like someone unseen was speaking. I didn’t dare take my eyes from the windows as I slowly backed into the kitchen.
Along the wall, a shadow flitted across the wallpaper like a snake. I startled, nearly dropping the dishes. But I blinked and the movement was gone.
Taking in a few breaths, I straightened cautiously. Walls didn’t move or whisper. Houses didn’t leer. All of this nonsense was in my mind.