Page 85

"It used to be Emily's office," he said happily. "I just moved all her things into storage and moved all Charlotte's supplies and materials in."

"Did you ever weave beads, Jefferson?" Charlotte asked him. He shook his head. "Oh, you're going to have so much fun. And I have pounds and pounds of clay, too."

"You do?"

"Yes." She slapped her hands together. "I know what—we'll give you a room to do over. You can paint everything in it anyway you want."

"Wow!" Jefferson said, his eyes bright with excitement. Then Aunt Charlotte sat down and folded her hands. She watched us eat for a moment.

"So," she finally said. "When are your mommy and daddy coming to get you?"

I lowered my sandwich to the plate.

"They're never coming for us, Aunt Charlotte. There was a terrible fire in the hotel and they died in it. We couldn't live there anymore," I added.

"Oh dear. Died, you say?" She looked up at Luther who nodded, his face dark. "Oh, how sad for you, for everyone." She looked sympathetically at Jefferson. "Well, we won't let sadness come into The Meadows. We'll shut the door on sadness. We'll have lots of fun making things and cooking good things to eat like cookies and cakes and we'll think up games to play and listen to music."

"My sister plays the piano," Jefferson bragged.

"Oh, she does." Aunt Charlotte clapped her hands. "We have a piano in the living room, don't we, Luther?"

"Probably badly out of tune and dusty, but it's a nice piano," he said. "Charlotte's mother used to play after dinner," Luther said but then he fixed his gaze on me. "Somebody must be looking after you kids now, though, ain't they? Won't they be coming for you?"

I looked at Gavin and then shook my head. "They don't know we're here," I said.

"You run away, did you?" I didn't have to answer. He saw it in our faces.

"Please let us stay a while, Luther. We won't be any trouble," I pleaded.

"No sir, we won't," Gavin said. "I'd be glad to help you with your chores around the plantation, too," he added.

"You ever done any farm work?" Luther asked quickly.

"A little," Gavin said.

"Well, we got hay to bale, crops to harvest, pigs and chickens to feed, firewood to cut and split. Let's see your hands," he said and reached out to grab Gavin's wrist and turn his palms up. Then he put his hand alongside Gavin's. "See these, calluses. That's what comes from farm work."

"I'm not afraid of getting calluses," Gavin said sharply. Luther nodded and came close to smiling, his lips twitching in the corners. He stepped back.

"We get by on what we grow here," he said.

"I want to help too," Jefferson said.

Charlotte laughed.

"He can learn to gather the eggs," she said. Jefferson's face lit up.

"And I can help with the house chores," I said. Even with the dull lighting, I could see that the house needed hours and hours of cleaning. "We won't be a burden," I promised.

"Of course you won't, dear," Charlotte said. "They can stay, can't they, Luther?"

"I guess so. For a while anyway," he added.

"I know what," Charlotte said and clapped her hands again, "as soon as you're finished eating, you can try the piano."

"They're tired, Charlotte. They should go to sleep," Luther said.

"Oh just a little," she whined like a child. "You can play just a little, can't you, dear?"