A Lantern in the Window by Bobby Hutchinson Page B

the table.
    Rose, with a dejected expression,
slumped down across the table from the women, obviously prepared to
be bored to death.
    “ Rose, would you be kind
enough to take this bread and some coffee in to Mr. Ferguson?”
Annie spread jam on a thick slice and thrust the plate and cup at
the girl before she could refuse. "And then ask Bets to show you
her cat. There’s a new litter of kittens out in the shed, too.
She’ll take you to see them.”
    “ But—but how can I ask her
anything if she can’t—” Rose’s voice trailed off at a look from her
mother.
    "She can read a lot of what you say on
your lips,” Annie reassured her gently. "Just try.”
    Rose reluctantly did as she was asked.
In a moment, she and Bets went silently out to the shed where the
kittens were, and just as Annie hoped, it wasn’t long before the
two girls had brought the entire litter of kittens inside and were
giggling together at their antics. Bets showed Rose her sign for
cats, and slowly the two began to communicate.
    Gladys watched them and then turned to
Annie with a shamefaced expression. “You must excuse us dearie. We
don’t mean no offense. It's just we ain’t never seen a deaf and—a
deef young'un before,” she amended hastily. "How did she come to be
that way?"
    Annie explained, and in the process
revealed a great deal of her and Betsy’s background.
    In turn Gladys told of coming in a
covered wagon to Canada from Minnesota with her husband, Harold,
where she was pregnant with Rose. Some of the light weny out of her
blue eyes and tears welled up when she confided that she’d lost
three babies in succession after Rose was born.
    "Looks like she'll be our only one,”
she said with a sigh. "It’s a shame. My Harold would have liked a
big family.” She took a sip of her coffee and lathered her own
preserves on one of Annie’s biscuits, lowering her voice so Rose
wouldn’t hear.
    “ Easy for men to want more,
ain’t it? They don't go through it all. Why, I remember Noah sayin’
hi wanted a dozen more babies when Jeremy was born and the look on
poor Molly’s face—”
    She stopped suddenly, and her already
rosy face turned magenta. “Oh, my. I am sorry. Me and my big
mouth.” She rammed the entire biscuit in and chewed ferociously, as
if to prevent any further in discretion.
    Noah wanted a dozen more
babies.
    Annie felt as if she’d been hit in the
stomach. She thought of the nights when he made love to her—nearly
ever night, now—and of how careful he was to pull away from her
body so that there’d be no babies.
    Only that once had he ever lost
control.
    To hide the pain that she knew was
mirrored on her face, she got up and shoved more wood into the
stove and filled their cups again with fresh coffee, coming to a
decision.
    Better the ghost you know .
    When she sat down, she leaned across
and put her chapped hand on Gladys’s arm. "Gladys, I need a favor.
I need you to tell me about Molly, please. Noah won’t so much as
say her name, and I need to know what kind of woman she was.” She
gestured at the room. "Every single thing here is hers. It feels
like I’m living with a spirit I never even met."
    Gladys looked uncertain. “Oh, I don’t
know. You sure it won’t bother you none, hearin’ about Noah's first
wife?"
    Doing the best acting job of her life,
Annie shook her head vehemently and plastered on a smile. “Of
course not. How silly. What did she look like?”
    Gladys looked over her shoulder as if
expecting Molly to materialize. Then she leaned forward in a
confiding manner, resting her elbows on the table, her voice little
more than a whisper. "Well, let’s see. Molly was lots shorter than
you are, and she—” Gladys made a motion that indicated Molly had
possessed a good-sized bosom, narrow waist, and shapely hips. “She
was real womanly,” Gladys said discreetly.
    Annie crossed her arms over her own
meager bosom. Even though every single syllable Gladys uttered was
a knife in her heart,