Just Above a Whisper by Lori Wick Page B

Jenness got out of the house much. Every other person she knew, and many she didn’t, had heard about her situation with the bank.
    “Gerald?” Mrs. Jenness called from the other room. “Gerald? Where are you?”
    Reese listened to Gerald’s impatient sigh, but he still pushed to his feet and exited by way of the door his mother had used. Reese heard their low voices from her place at the kitchen table but didn’t try to listen. She went back to polishing, humming once again and wondering what she would be asked to do for the rest of the day.

     
    “So tell me,” Mrs. Greenlowe waited only until they’d sat down for tea to question Reese. “How did it go at the Jenness house?”
    “It went fine,” she said, surprised even now.
    “What did Lillie Jenness have you do?”
    “Not much. A bit of silver polishing and trimming the frayed edges of an old rug. I did a lot of sitting around, waiting for her to come back to tell me what to do. I don’t think she wanted me to help with the cooking.”
    “She does nothing but clean,” Mrs. Greenlowe muttered, pushing more food in Reese’s direction. She still served her main meal at noon, but now that Reese lived with her, she made sure she always had plenty to offer with the evening tea; the girl was too thin for her liking.
    “Did she give you a proper dinner?”
    Reese had to think about that and then admitted to herself that it hadn’t been that great. Mrs. Jenness clearly hadn’t wanted to waste a bit of meat on her. Reese’s piece was so small she finished it in three bites. Mrs. Jenness had prepared Reese’s plate and told her to stay in the kitchen to eat. She was used to that, but not used to having little more than bread and vegetables with not even a dessert to take her through until tea. At least Mr. Zantow had let her eat what he enjoyed.
    Mr. Jenness had not come home for dinner, and Reese had been surprised by that. But she’d been pleased that Gerald had spent most of the day out of the house. She sensed that his mother might have sent him on an errand.
    “And at the bank?” Mrs. Greenlowe asked before Reese could gather her thoughts to answer the other question; she thought it might be just as well.
    “There isn’t much to do,” Reese explained. “I dusted and swept some. I’ll mop the floor next time, but today there were folks inside, so I couldn’t. I’ll probably have to wash the windows at some point.”
    Mrs. Greenlowe allowed Reese to eat in peace for a short time and didn’t have anything to complain about until Reese began to help with the cleanup.
    “You work all day,” that lady muttered darkly, but Reese wasn’t tired and knew that she was years younger than her landlady. And although Reese wasn’t weary, it didn’t hurt her feelings at all when Mrs. Greenlowe said she was ready to turn in, freeing Reese to seek the privacy of her own room.
    She had washed in the kitchen after tea, stripping down and scrubbing every inch of her, and now it felt wonderful to slip her nightdress over her head and crawl onto the middle of the mattress. Here she knelt, as she had every night since her conversion, and prayed. Her knees were too bony to manage the floor, and she was certain God understood.
    For long moments she didn’t pray. The candle flickering more noticeably as the light faded from the windows, Reese looked around at the most wonderful bedroom she could ever remember having.
    It was done in greens and pinks, soft and inviting. The wallpaper was subtle and blended nicely with the quilt Mrs. Greenlowe had made for the bed. All the drawers in the dresser worked properly, and Reese’s bed was soft and comfortable.
    “Thank You, Lord,” Reese finally began to whisper to her heavenly Father. “You have given me so much. I still wish to be released from my papers, but if that is not to happen, please help me to be safe where I work. Help my actions and words to be honoring to You.
    “Help me to be careful around Gerald. I