The Hope of Hattie Phelan: Volume I

11

"That's my cue," Wally said, setting the hoe on his shoulder and picking up the other tools.

"I can put the tools away," I said, my arms outstretched. He raised a brow. "Do you really think I could lift heavy boxes out of the cart?"

He chuckled, handing me the tools with an ornery glint in his eyes. "Thought you said you weren't weak." I opened my mouth to respond, but he backed away, hands in the air as surrender. "Just jesting, just jesting." He jogged off to the driveway where my uncle was unloading the wagon.

I didn't know what to think of Wally. He seemed nice, but something about him got on my nerves. I didn't know why but I just felt that he judged my every move and was also very adamant about being helpful—that was my job. I relished being the helpful one.

I put the tools away in the tool shed, before jogging to the wagon to see Bobby trying to carry a bag of flour up the porch steps. The bag was sagging, almost touching the ground. I went over to help them, but got resistance in return.

"No, I got it," Bobby said, hefting the flour even higher. He staggered up the stairs, almost falling over under the weight of the packed bag. I chuckled as the stubborn boy mustered up their strength to carry the bag without help. My laugh fell short as I realized that it was what I did. I didn't let anyone help me just so I could prove myself.

Shaking the sinking feeling in my stomach away, I went to the wagon to grab the last crate of goods. It was apparently really full and really heavy. As I tried to pull it off of the truck, it was so heavy that it sank to the ground with a heavy thud. I couldn't even control it. I heaved it, managing to lift it a few inches off of the ground. I glanced in the direction of the back door, grimacing as the distance seemed to grow and stretch out to be farther than I ever remembered.

I let out an exhale of determination and mustered all of my inner strength and resilience, hefting the crate up, using my legs instead of my back. I walked a few steps and set the crate down, before picking it up again after a curt flick of my arms, as if to shake out the weakness. I looked up to see Wally watching me, a shadow of a smile on his face. He looked on as I walked a step or two, set the crate down, and picked it up again. I set it down with a huff, wiping the growing perspiration off of my brows.

"Do you need a hand, miss?" Wally asked, after I paused for a break again.

"No, I got—"

"'Two that work just fine,' I know," Wally said with a chuckle. "Just offering my assistance. Not that I think you are weak, by any means."

"Fine." I flushed in embarrassment, stepping aside to let him pick it up. He picked up the crate with ease, adding to my defeat. I followed him inside as he set the crate on the floor. Uncle Gillan engaged Wally in a conversation, leaving me to open the crate. As I removed the lid, the contents were revealed to be heavy bags of sugar.

"Oh, I am looking forward to canning those strawberries," Aunt Margarette said as she entered the room, taking off her coat and bonnet. "Where is Constance? I wanted to see if her new shoes fit."

At the word, I looked into the box that Aunt Margarette laid on the table in the kitchen. There were two pairs of shoes. They both were brown, but it seemed the sizes were different. Maybe so Constance could try them to see the closer fit.

"This one's for you," Aunt Margarette said. "I noticed your shoes were getting worn out, so I grabbed a pair and took the measurements on paper." I looked at the pair that Aunt Margarette handed me. I had a new pair of shoes...I had a new pair of shoes!

"Hattie, I can get the rest of that," Aunt Margarette said. "You can run upstairs and get out of your work clothes and wash up for dinner. We can have you try them on soon, but I need help with meal preparations. I guess I should have stayed home to make dinner." I nodded, staring at the shoes as she put them back in the box before going upstairs. I found Nancy in our room folding the last piece of clothing before setting it on the bed.