“Oh, look. It would appear lunch is served.” Susanna touched her mother’s shoulder. “We should be seated.”
It was such a different life than what they had known. In times gone by, a bell would have chimed or a servant would have announced the meal. They would have come to the table, where servants would have helped them into their chairs and then served them from a sideboard. Now the food was placed on the table, and it was more or less a free-for-all.
Pushing her mother toward the table, Susanna helped her into a chair and then quickly took the seat to Mother’s left. Father and Uncle Harrison joined them, but the looks on their faces suggested great reluctance.
“Would you like me to say grace?” Susanna offered. She realized she was doing anything and everything to keep some feeling of normalcy, but it was the normalcy from her own world. Father and Mother didn’t pray over meals.
Father nodded, and she bowed her head. “Lord, for what we are about to receive, we thank You. Bless this food to our bodies and bless the hands who have prepared it. Amen.”
“Amen,” Uncle Harrison replied. Mother and Father remained silent.
Susanna picked up her plate. “Uncle, Lia has made pork tamales for us. They are her family’s recipe. She always fixes us something from her heritage so that we can experience food from the Mexican culture, but without the strong spices. Would you care to try them?”
“I would. It sounds rather intriguing.” He gave her a smile.
“The rest of our fare is recognizable enough. Salad and chicken in cream sauce. Tonight we’ll have more of the same with a dessert added. We try to be frugal with our food budget.”
“It is appalling to have to eat the same things day after day,” Mother muttered. “I have a boiled egg and toast every morning for breakfast.”
“On Sunday we have ham or bacon as well, and some mornings oatmeal is served, so Mother does have options,” Susanna said.
“It’s a terrible way to live,” the older woman snapped.
“Better than starving,” Uncle Harrison said as Susanna handed him a full plate of food. He smiled down at the fare. “Looks positively delicious.”
They ate in silence for a few moments, with Mother and Father actually sampling the tamales. Susanna thought them delicious and could tell by the way her father ate that he too enjoyed them. Only her mother picked at them as if they would bite her.
Lia headed for the door a few minutes later with the promise to return later in the day. Susanna was more than grateful for her friend’s help and started to comment on the meal, but her uncle spoke up before she could say anything.
“What do you pay her to work here?”
“That is hardly any of your concern, Harrison,” Mother said. “Go ahead and go, Lia. We’ll see you later.”
Lia did as instructed, but Susanna could see the matter was far from over. Her uncle had that steeled look of determination in his eyes.
“Who is paying for her?” he asked again.
“I am,” Susanna said without hesitation.
“Of course, you aren’t. Herbert is,” her mother corrected.
Harrison looked to his brother. “Which is it?”
Father looked momentarily embarrassed. “I suppose Susanna is. I haven’t given the woman any money.”
Mother looked surprised and glanced from her husband to Susanna and back.
“And for this house?” Uncle Harrison pressed.
Father picked at his tamale. “Again, Susanna. She offered to find the place and did so. She’s not asked me for money, and I offered none.”
Susanna’s uncle turned to her. “So you are using your own money to pay for your parents to have undeserved luxuries.”
“This is hardly luxury,” Mother proclaimed loudly. “And why shouldn’t a daughter help her parents in their time of need?” She pushed back from the table. “Honestly, you are a cruel man, Harrison. You shame us at every turn. I’m certain Herbert intends to pay Susanna for her kindness. God knows she’s the only one to offer us kindness.”
“I kept you from being put out on the street and moved you here to allow you to escape the shame and humiliation you were certain to face in Topeka. Don’t you consider that a kindness?” Uncle Harrison replied. “Both of you are spoiled children expecting the rest of the world to see to your needs, but it’s time you grew up. I forbid Susanna to spend another dime on either of you.”
“You can hardly forbid my daughter to do anything,” Mother countered. “She is a grown woman, and if she chooses to help her family, then it is because we raised her to see the value of supporting family in their time of need.” She got to her feet. “I feel faint. Your aggressive nature is more than I can stand. I must lie down.” She exited the room without another word, slamming the bedroom door for emphasis.
Susanna looked to her uncle, who shook his head and went back to eating. Father ducked his head and kept his gaze on his plate as if to make himself invisible.
It was a sad moment in Susanna’s life. Her parents were like willful children who refused to be corrected. What in the world would happen to them if they didn’t change? Even she didn’t have enough money to keep them indefinitely.
“Gary, I’ve shown you three different times how to do this. You aren’t paying attention,” Owen said, taking the sledge from him.
“I’m trying. I guess I just don’t understand.”
“Or you aren’t listening.” Owen had reached the end of his patience. It was over one hundred degrees in the shop, and everyone was on edge.
Mr. Payne came over, clearly angry. “Owen, I looked over that boiler you remade. It’s substandard and needs to be redone. Who did you have working on it? The man obviously doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
Gary paled despite the heat. He threw Owen a pleading look. For a moment, Owen’s anger mounted. Gary actually expected Owen to smooth things over—just like his brother used to do. But try as he might, Owen couldn’t bring himself to admit it was Gary. He liked Gary, and even though the kid was difficult to train, Owen didn’t want to see him get fired.
“It was my fault,” Owen said, doing what he vowed he’d never do again—taking the blame for someone else’s poor work. “I’ll see it’s fixed.”
Payne nodded and looked at the metal piece they’d been working on all morning. “When are you going to have this done?”
“Not sure now, but hopefully by tomorrow—end of the day.”
“See to it. We have a schedule to keep. Every 1400 hours we have to remake these boilers and do so in a manner that will keep them going another 1400. I can’t have substandard work.”
Mr. Payne walked off, and Gary breathed a heavy sigh.
“Thanks for covering for me. I thought I’d done a good job.”
Owen hadn’t had a chance to inspect the piece, so it really was his fault in a way. “I should have looked at it. I won’t take the blame next time, Gary. If you can’t do the work, you’ll have to go. There are plenty of other jobs on the railroad. Maybe this one doesn’t suit you.”
Gary shook his head. “No. I’ll figure it out. I want to work with you. I’m sure I can do better.”