The Mandie Collection (38 page)

“I do love them, Uncle Ned,” Mandie replied thoughtfully. “It's just that everybody keeps fussing at me about that baby, trying to tell me how to act and everything. And I don't like it.”

“All know Papoose unhappy,” Uncle Ned replied. “Want to help.”

“Well, I wish they'd just quit bossing me,” Mandie said curtly.

“Papoose . . .” Uncle Ned sounded disappointed in her. “Please try be happy about new papoose, please?” He took her small white hand in his old wrinkled one.

Mandie gazed up into his deep black eyes. She knew he loved her. Before her father died, he had promised to watch over her, and he had never let Mandie down. He was always there, helping her do what was right.

She smiled. “I promise, Uncle Ned,” she said, then quickly added, “but it probably won't do any good.”

“Keep promise, Papoose,” he insisted.

“All right,” she said. “I promise to keep my promise just for you, Uncle Ned.”

The old Indian stood. “Must go now. See Papoose again soon.”

“Good night, Uncle Ned.” Mandie picked up Snowball. “I guess I'd better go back inside the house now.”

Uncle Ned stood watching until Mandie was safely in the house. Then as she watched through the glass in the door, she saw him wave and disappear in the shadows.

Mandie crept up the stairs. The house was dark and quiet. Maybe the baby had gone to sleep.

But just as she entered her room and quietly closed the door, the screaming began again. This time it was fainter, though. Her mother must have closed all the windows and doors.

Mandie got undressed and slipped into bed with Snowball at her feet. But she lay awake long into the night as the baby cried on and on. It was too warm to put her head under the covers. She tried holding her hands over her ears, but her arms got tired.

She fluffed up the pillow and tried to bury her ears in it, but that didn't work, either. And every time Mandie moved, Snowball had to change his position on the bed to keep from getting squashed.

Mandie tossed and turned all night, remembering her promise to Uncle Ned. But how could she possibly be happy with that crying baby? Something had to be done about that.

CHAPTER THREE

PLANS FOR MIDNIGHT

The next morning Elizabeth gently shook her daughter awake. “You're late for breakfast, dear,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Mandie opened her still-sleepy eyes and sat up. It seemed as though she had just dozed off. Turning to sit beside her mother, Mandie reached up and put her arms around her. “Good morning, Mother,” she said, laying her head on Elizabeth's shoulder.

Her mother smoothed back the long, tumbled blond hair. “Good morning, dear,” she said. “You need to hurry to get downstairs for breakfast. Dr. Woodard will be leaving after we eat, you know.”

Mandie stood up and stretched. “I'll be ready in a jiffy, Mother.”

Elizabeth walked toward the door and opened it. “As soon as we finish breakfast, I'll take you to see your new brother. He seems to be in a quieter mood this morning. So please hurry, dear,” she said, closing the door behind her.

As Mandie reached for a dress to put on, she remembered why she was so sleepy.
That baby cried all night, and now I suppose he's taking a little nap so he can holler all day
, she thought.
I hope he won't be screaming his head off when Mother takes me to see him later
.

Mandie dressed quickly and joined her mother, Dr. Woodard and Mr. Bond at the breakfast table. After the blessing was said, they began eating the huge breakfast Aunt Lou served. All the while Mandie kept
her ears open, listening for the baby's cry any minute. But he never made a sound.

Dr. Woodard studied Mandie from across the table. “You look deep in thought, Amanda,” he said.

Mandie took a deep breath and said the first thing that came into her mind. “I was just wishing that I could go home with you, Dr. Woodard, and visit awhile,” she said quickly.

Dr. Woodard looked at Mandie's mother.

Elizabeth laid her fork down on her plate. “Why, you've just come home, dear. I couldn't let you go away so soon. Maybe later, that is, if Mrs. Woodard wouldn't mind.” She sipped her coffee.

“Now, Elizabeth,” Dr. Woodard said quickly, “you know my wife would be tickled pink to have Amanda visit us.” Turning to Mandie, who hadn't said a word, he added, “Maybe when you come back from your trip to Europe you could come over for a few days.”

Mandie's fork clattered to her plate in her excitement. “Could I, Mother? Please?” she asked.

Elizabeth sighed. “Of course you may, dear. It's just that I'm jealous of you and want you with me every minute possible.”

Funny she should use that word
, Mandie thought. “But you have the baby now, Mother,” she said, realizing that she was just trying to get away from him.

Elizabeth set her coffee cup on the table. “We'll see,” she promised.

When they had all finished eating, Elizabeth turned to her daughter as Dr. Woodard stood up to take leave. “Now I don't want to rush you, Amanda, but I think we ought to go see your little brother before he begins one of those crying spells.”

“Yes, Mother,” Mandie agreed reluctantly.

Mr. Bond had been silent throughout the meal and now he quickly left, saying that he would see to Dr. Woodard's horse and buggy. “I thank you for everything, Elizabeth,” the doctor said. “I have to be getting on my way now.”

Mandie stood up to walk to the door with him. “Dr. Woodard,” she said, “please tell Joe I hope he gets to come visit us before I go off to Europe in July.”

“I certainly will, young lady,” the doctor promised.

Elizabeth walked down the hall with them. At the door, she smiled at the old country doctor. “I hope we'll see you again soon, Dr. Woodard,” she said, bidding him goodbye.

Dr. Woodard waved as he hurried down the long walkway to his horse and buggy, which Mr. Bond had waiting at the hitching post.

Elizabeth turned to Mandie. “Now, dear. Let's go see what your little brother is doing.” She smiled and put an arm around Mandie's shoulder as they walked up the stairs.

When they entered Elizabeth's sitting room, they found Liza sitting by the cradle, gently rocking it with her foot.

As soon as Liza saw them, she stood up. “He been good, Miz 'Lizbeth,” the Negro maid told her. “He ain't made a sound, not one.”

Elizabeth smiled and Mandie thought she saw a look of relief in her mother's eyes. “Thank you for staying with him, Liza,” she said. “Now you can go back downstairs and do whatever Aunt Lou has planned for you.”

Liza flashed Mandie a quick grin, then left the room, closing the door behind her.

Elizabeth gently led Mandie over to the cradle where the baby lay, clad only in a diaper and a thin shirt because of the warm weather.

Mandie stood there, silently staring down at him.

Elizabeth looked at her daughter curiously. “Well, aren't you going to say anything?”

Mandie studied the tiny pink wrinkled face and frowned. “He's ugly, Mother,” she said without thinking.

“What?” Elizabeth gasped. Then regaining her composure, she spoke gently, choosing her words carefully. “Of course, all newborn babies are wrinkled and may not look very pretty, dear, but I'm sure he's going to grow into a good-looking boy.”

“I hope so,” Mandie replied.

Elizabeth bent to pick up the baby. “Why don't you hold him, dear?” she said, holding him out to her.

“Oh, no. I don't want to,” Mandie protested. Then seeing the hurt look in her mother's eyes, she explained. “I . . . I've never held a tiny baby before. I . . . I just wouldn't know how to hold him. He's too little.”

Suddenly the baby burst into tears and screamed at the top of his lungs. Elizabeth cuddled him close and sat down in the rocking chair.

“And now he's crying again,” Mandie hollered above the noise.

Mandie watched as her mother cooed to the baby and began rocking him.

“You'll get used to him, dear,” Elizabeth told her.

Mandie felt as if she had to get away. “I'll see you after a while.” She headed for the door.

“All right, dear. Maybe he'll hush soon,” Elizabeth said, still rocking the baby.

Mandie hurried out of the room and raced to her bedroom. The door was open, and she found her bed made and Snowball curled up in the middle of it.

She pounced on the bed and shook up Snowball. “Wake up, you lazy cat,” Mandie said. “I need someone to talk to.” Playfully, she ruffled his fur, and Snowball immediately started washing his fur back the way it belonged.

Mandie ruffled his coat again, and Snowball looked up at her, confused. He meowed in a sad tone.

Quickly smoothing his fur back into place, she picked him up and hugged him close. “I'm sorry, Snowball,” she soothed. “I guess I'm mad at the world and taking it out on you. I'm sorry. I just wish you could talk and tell me what to do.” She sighed. “You hear that screaming? That's the new baby trying to burst his lungs, and I can't stand it. Let's go outside.”

Jumping up, she quickly left the room with Snowball, hurried downstairs, and ran out into the yard. Since no one was around, she walked out to the summerhouse and sat down.

Deep in thought, she jumped when she heard a voice behind her.

“I heard you got home yesterday.”

Mandie turned to see her next-door neighbor Polly Cornwallis stepping into the summerhouse. Polly was the same age as Mandie, and she had also been away at a boarding school—but not the Misses Heathwood's School for Girls in Asheville, North Carolina, which Mandie attended.

“Hello, Polly,” Mandie said as her neighbor sat down on the bench opposite her. “You got home the day before I did, didn't you?” Mandie let Snowball down, and he promptly ran away across the lawn.

Polly nodded. “How do you like the new baby?”

“How would
you
like a new baby, Polly, especially one that hollers all the time?” Mandie complained.

“That is a problem,” Polly agreed, her black eyes searching Mandie's face. “Is that why you're out here?”

“Of course,” Mandie replied. “It's impossible to even think in that house anymore. I couldn't sleep last night.”

“Is he sick or something?” Polly asked.

“Or something is right,” Mandie said with disgust. “My mother has spoiled him rotten. She holds him and rocks him all the time.”

“I do believe I see a spark of jealousy,” Polly teased.

Mandie made a face at her friend. “I'm not jealous of him,” she insisted. “He's so little and ugly. How could I be?”

“Well, now you're not your mother's only child anymore,” Polly reminded her.

Mandie sat up straight. “I am not my mother's
child
,” she protested. “I am almost thirteen years old, and that's not a child anymore.”

Polly shrugged. “I still consider myself my mother's child, and I'll soon be thirteen, too,” she argued. “Even when I get grown, I'll still be my mother's child.”

“Well, go ahead,” Mandie said, a little irritated. “Just don't include me in that child business.”

Polly tossed her long dark hair as she leaned forward. “I suppose you have a boyfriend back at school, then, if you're so grown up.”

“A boyfriend? You know we're too young to even talk about such things,” Mandie said.

“I don't think I'm too young. After all, some girls get married at sixteen,” Polly reminded her. “When is Joe coming to see you?”

Suddenly Mandie understood what Polly was getting at. Polly was always trying to get Joe to pay attention to her when he came to visit Mandie.

“Whenever he gets ready!” Mandie snapped.

“You know he's going to be fifteen this year on November first,” Polly reminded her.

Mandie stood up to shake the wrinkles out of her long skirt. “And what do you mean by that?” she asked, leaning on the rail at the steps.

Polly joined her. “I mean . . . that he is definitely old enough to be interested in girls,” she replied.

“What does that have to do with the baby?” Mandie asked crossly. “I believe we were discussing the baby, not boyfriends.”

“I believe we were discussing both,” Polly answered. “But if you'd rather talk about the baby, what are you going to do about him?”

“What do you mean by that?” Mandie asked.

Polly shrugged. “You said you couldn't even think or sleep or anything because of him, so what's going to happen?” she asked.

“Sooner or later he is going to hush . . .” Mandie said hopefully, “and grow up and quit being a screaming little baby!”

“Don't forget,” Polly said, “you'll be long gone from home before he gets grown. You're twelve years older than he is.”

Mandie sighed and looked at her neighbor with disgust. “Can't we talk about something besides that baby?”

Polly didn't say anything for a minute. Then finally she said, “I hear you're going to Europe with your grandmother next month.”

“That's right.” Mandie brightened. “And we're going to be gone a whole month.”

“I sure wish I could go,” Polly murmured, staring out into space. “Mother says I won't be going for another year or two. She wants me to be old enough to attend some of the social functions over there.”

“My friend Celia Hamilton from school is going with us, too,” Mandie told her. “You know Celia, don't you? She came here for part of the Christmas holidays, remember?”

“Lucky, lucky, lucky.” Polly sighed. “I wonder if my mother will let me take a friend with me when we finally get around to making the trip. Maybe I could even take you.”

“I'd like to, but I don't imagine my mother would let me make another trip like that so soon,” Mandie replied.