The Sun and Moon and Stars

Chapter III

The girl didn’t even blink. “Ansi?”

“No, not Ansi, Fra--”

“Where’s Papa, Ansi?”

Frances sighed. This little girl was going to keep her on her toes. “He’s gone into town. Now, no more questions and finish your breakfast. Here, have some milk.” Frances poured a large glass of milk and they each took turns sipping from the cool freshness that tasted of clovers and dew.

She glanced out the window at the yard. The grass was a bright green and the rubbish strewn across it stuck out.

“How would you children like to surprise your father when he returns to town? And get a prize as well?”

“Surprise Papa?” Winnie dropped her toast and stood up on her chair, wide-eyed. “We can do that?” 

Frances pulled her back down and nodded. “There’s a prize in in as well if you do a good job.”

“I want to surprise Papa!” Winnie squealed, nearly shaking in delight. 

“‘Pies Papa!” Jem chimed in, grinning with his little teeth that stuck out like tiny tombstones. Rebecca squawked like a bird at the excitement, banging her fists on the table of her high chair. 

Frances laughed and raised her hands, calling for silence. Winnie immediately stopped, folded her hands and stared at Frances like her life depended on it. Jem shrieked, watching his sister with expectation. When Winnie ignored him, his forehead puckered and he turned to Frances, as if willing her to do something. 

Frances patted his hand and smiled reassuringly. “The yard is a mess, and as it will be the first thing your father sees when he returns from town, I think it would be a wonderful thing if it were tidied.”

Winnie’s head bounced up and down, the prospect of work not fazing her a bit.

“For every sac of rubbish you pick up, I’ll give you a penny.”

“And that will surprise Papa?” 

Frances nodded and said, “It sure will.” But her mind was still stuck on Winnie’s question. Here she was, offering the child money, and all the girl could think about was her father. She shook her head in wonder. She had never seen such loyalty and admiration coming from a five year old for her father. It was rare enough among adults.

Frances went to the living room where she had spotted a basket of ripped laundry, waiting to be mended. She rifled through it and came up with two pillow cases. One had a rip along the seam near the top and the other was missing all the threading around the mouth. 

She brought them back to the kitchen and handed them to Winnie and Jem. She shooed them outside and with clear instructions to watch Rebecca on the blanket, began to put together a small tray--a dinner platter--of food. Two slices of bread, one with strawberry jelly and the other with peach. Filling up a glass of milk and adding it to the tray, she went upstairs. 

She placed the tray on the side table in the hall and quickly snuck into her room, retrieving a small bell from her carpetbag. She slipped it into her pocket before continuing down towards the master bed chamber. 

The room was dark and cool. The missus sat up against a wall of pillows. 

“May I enter, Mrs. Fellowes?” Frances asked, trying to peer through the shadows at the figure in the bed.

“Yes.” Her voice was smooth and dry. She did not sound ill in the least. 

Frances pushed the door open with her hip and slowly made her way around the bed to the nightstand nearest the window. She thanked her stars that she had peeked into the room the day before and had a good idea of the placement of the furniture. She only tripped once, the toe of her boot catching on the corner of the bed frame. But other than a wince, it was short lived.