She's the One Who Cares Too Much

by S. R. Cronin

  “I’m not a scary person.”

  “Coral, you’re the least scary person I know. If anyone in this whole realm should be allowed to boss people around with their voice, it’s you. I just wouldn’t want too many people to know. I made Celestine promise not to tell anyone else.”

  “I’m being careful. Davor doesn’t know. My friend Sakina is the only teacher at school who I’ve told. Dad knows because he gets us the horses for us to practice with, but even he thought I should wait to tell Mom. How do think Mom will handle it?”

  She winced. “I’ll keep your secret, from Davor, Mom, and everyone else. You’ll keep mine?”

  We raised our goblets in a salute. We had a deal.

  Davor's ongoing presence accomplished much. The woodpile grew high, the cupboard stayed full, and he and I ate well. I also got more smiles from the mothers of those I taught, and fewer smiles from the fathers. Given my situation, that was for the best.

  Only one gentleman, married and with an eight-year-old daughter, continued to eye me with interest. I avoided his gaze. My fondness for his daughter Chessa made it particularly awkward. Earlier in the year, the mother brought the child to school. She was a quiet woman who seemed sad most of the time, though she’d always been friendly to me. I hadn’t seen her in a while and I hoped this man didn’t contrive to bring his daughter so he could interact with me.

  As Tirga approached, I noticed a change. I hardly saw the father either, because Chessa spent most nights at the school. Parents seldom did that, preferring to use the option for emergencies. I decided to ask the little girl why.

  “I haven’t seen your mother in a while. How is she doing?”

  “Not good. Daddy says she’s too sick to take me to school anymore, so that’s why he has to bring me.”

  “Oh dear. Did he say what kind of sickness she has?”

  “Not good. He keeps calling it ‘not good.’”

  My heart melted for this man I’d casually classed as annoying.

  “Has she seen a doctor?”

  "Lots of them. Daddy keeps bringing people to the house. Doctors, Velka. They all agree. It’s ‘not good.’”

  I couldn’t believe I’d been so insensitive.

  An ank-break began that day, so all the children had to go home. I made a point of seeking out her father as classes let out. Our wheat ripened early that year, so I knew we’d be taking our two- ank break for harvest soon after Tirga.

  He ran up to me, apparently relieved I gave him eye contact for once. Now that I didn’t feel I had to avoid his gaze, I took a longer look at him.

  He was younger than I’d thought; he must have married early and had Chessa soon after. He had a serious face, not sad like his wife’s but more like he’d been carrying worries for too many years. His dark eyes held an unusual intensity, and had an almost metallic glint to them, as if they were made of iron ore.

  “I’ve been wanting to talk to you, but you always seem so busy,” he said.

  “I’m sorry, but by the end of the day, I’m tired. I have a small baby of my own you know.”

  That amused him. “The whole nichna knows. Look, I don’t know if my daughter has told you, but my wife is ill. She’s failing and there seems to be nothing we can do for her.”

  “I only learned of this today. I had no idea.”

  “Yes, well, it’s happened fast. She was healthy at Noruz. We never expected anything like this.”

  “No one ever does.”

  “We moved here from Faroo a few years ago. It’s a long story, but we left with both of our families angry at us so we’ve no one nearby and no one coming to help. Chessa adores you; she talks about you all the time. I, I don’t know how to ask this, but I don’t want her there when her mother passes. I think it would be so hard for one her age, you know? Old enough to understand, but not really, and no other relatives around to comfort her. I wondered if …. I know this is a huge favor … I wondered if Chessa could visit you, maybe spend a night or two. When it gets near the end.”

  Oh my. That’s what the man had been trying to speak with me about? I felt like the worst human ever.

  “Of course she can. My place isn’t big, but I’ll make room. She’s welcome whenever. For as long as you need. I’m so sorry.”

  His smile was genuine. And appreciative.

  “My name is Janx. If it hasn’t, uh, happened already, maybe could I send her home with you when we break for harvest? I could bring along some clothes and things when I bring her to school?"

  So, this was going to be more than a few days, wasn’t it?

  I didn’t know how I’d finesse this with Davor, or with Hana, or with my training schedule, but I’d think of something.

  Davor returned to the cottage that evening with excellent news. He’d managed to find a new place in Pilk, better than the one he’d had. I didn’t ask for details other than how soon he’d be moving.

  “Aren’t you going to miss me? Even a little?”

  “I will.” There was no reason not to tell him the truth. He made for a decent roommate, handling more than his share of the chores. In many ways, having him there was easier than being alone. Now that we weren’t really husband and wife, or even lovers, we’d kind of become friends.

  He’d even become a passable father, having grown more comfortable caring for Votto. I'd noticed his affection developing for the baby and, maybe more importantly, the affection the baby developed for him. He must have been thinking along the same lines.

  “I’m gonna miss the little guy, you know.”

  “And he’ll miss you. You should come back and spend time with him. It’d be good for both of you.”

  “You wouldn’t mind if I dropped in just to play with him?”

  “You’re his father.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about that. Once this Mongol invasion is handled, and we’re divorced, you’re going to want to remarry, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know. I like my independence, but I always saw myself having a family. Not as big as the one I came from, of course, but, you know, a few kids.”

  “Remarrying is the best way to do that.”

  “I agree.”

  “So, this new guy. He’d become Votto’s dad?”

  “His step-dad, yes. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t consider marrying a man who wouldn’t love and care for Votto as if he was his own.”

  “Yeah, okay. But then, I don’t get to be his dad anymore?”

  “You’re always his dad. Nothing can change that, and I’m not going to raise him with a lie. He’ll know who you are, and he’ll know we didn’t stay together, but, okay, he probably won’t know why. Children don’t need those kinds of details. He will know what his true relationship with my new husband is, though, if there is one.”

  "So I could still come to see him?"

  “Of course you could. You’d have to be a monster before I’d feel otherwise. Better yet, as he gets older he could come to visit you. Spend time at your place. Maybe even…." A sigh escaped before I could draw it back in. “Maybe even get to know that new refined wife of yours and be a part of whatever sort of family the two of you make.”

  “You know something? For a lady who cries so varmin much, you’ve got more sense than most. I could have done far worse picking a girl to get pregnant.”

  I don’t know why, but his words sent me straight to the edge of tears. Pruck it. I turned away so he couldn’t see my face.

  He stayed through the ank-break, though I don’t think he’d been planning to. Having good-bye sex with him crossed my mind more than once and, based on the occasional looks we exchanged, I suspected it crossed his. Perhaps he struggled with faithfulness to his new polished lady of Pilk. Did he feel loyalty of that sort? I really didn’t know. He hadn’t felt it with me.

  I couldn’t imagine I’d ever be foolish enough to fall back in love with him, but a little passion under the covers while Votto slept would be one of the few ways it could happen. Bad idea. So I kept my distance.<
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  I attended an uneventful practice session under Hana’s watchful eye, and he played with Votto a lot for a few days. As he prepared to leave on the afternoon before the eve of Tirga, he kissed me on the cheek, the way one would a sister.

  “Take good care of my little guy. Like you always do.”

  I watched him ride away with a bittersweet melancholy. I’d miss him, even though I was glad to see him go.

  Chapter 15. What Sort of Monster

  Chessa came home with me four days later. She spent a night at home first, presumably to say goodbye to her mother, though I doubted her father presented it that way. He brought her to school with enough things to last her indefinitely, gave her a long hug as tears rolled down his cheeks, and turned her over to me, muttering “I’m sorry, I don’t know how long this will be …”

  “Send word?” I asked. He nodded, too choked up to speak.

  I’d always found Chessa adorable, and she seemed equally fond of me, but as her father left she had that child’s sense of when things aren’t right.

  “Why won’t Daddy pick me up today?” she demanded. “I need to go home to be with Mommy.” And she did. Yet, her father wanted to spare her pain, and he probably wanted some time alone with his wife, and then time to grieve. I couldn’t begrudge him any of those.

  “Your daddy says your mommy needs rest now. Come. We’ll have fun at my house. You’ll get to play with my baby. He’s starting to crawl. It’s so cute.”

  She looked torn. Getting to play with a crawling baby was a treat, but not tempting enough.

  “No. I want to go home to be with my mommy.” She talked louder. If she got more upset, other children and teachers would intervene. Neither she nor I needed that.

  “Hush,” I told her. “Hush.” I used the oldest mothers’ timbre in the world, the voice to soothe a distraught child, as I encouraged her to find the calm within herself. “It’ll be okay.”

  “No. It won’t.” She looked at me with defiance in slate-colored eyes identical to her father’s and I knew the truth of what I’d been told. If she didn’t wish to be soothed, I could say nothing to quiet her.

  Then, as she stared at me, her eyes softened. She found the calm inside herself with no help from me.

  “Daddy asked you to do this, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, Chessa. He did. He loves you and loves your mommy, and he’s trying to take care of both of you as best he can.”

  She nodded and started to cry. “I don’t want my mommy to die.”

  “Oh sweetheart, who said she’s going to die?”

  “Everyone. They all whisper it so I won’t hear, but I do. I know what ‘it’s not good’ does to people.”

  Adults can be so stupid.

  “Will she die before I see her again?”

  And one more stupid thing is to lie to a child who knows better.

  “Probably. Your daddy asked me to watch you because now he has to work harder to take care of her. You want him to do that, right?”

  Her answer was to throw her arms around my waist, hide her head of shiny black hair deep in my skirt, and wail. We had plenty of people noticing us now. I ignored them and patted her head. Then, I let myself cry with her. I know, I know. Crying along isn’t always the best response, but on that day, it was.

  Some people will intervene if a child is in tears, others will stand and stare. But if a grown woman cries, people get away fast. I knew; I’d cried plenty at school over the past year. The crowd dispersed, and I bet many of them guessed the little girl comforted me.

  “Come on,” I whispered to her. “Let’s get to class and show everybody how brave we can be. Okay?”

  She nodded, and we did.

  The following ank-break I had to take both Chessa and Votto with me to the luski practice. I hoped Chessa would keep an eye on Votto, and not ask too many questions. She did neither. I could tell she made the other luskies nervous; two more put their masks back on once it was obvious the little girl tried to figure out what they did.

  “This isn’t working,” Hana said.

  “You told me you could provide child care.”

  “And I can. But you haven’t needed it the last two times, so today I didn’t bring anyone. And I’ve never seen this other child before. Who is she?”

  “A student of mine. I’m helping out her family.”

  Hana looked to the sky as if pleading with the spirits for patience.

  “You have serious work to do here. This is no time for you to take on charity projects. What is the matter with you?”

  Something about Hana brought out my most argumentative side.

  “Nothing is the matter with me. Next time have child care like you promised, and we won’t have a problem.”

  “Are you using the timbre with me?” I could hear the irritation in her voice.

  I hadn’t been. “Maybe.” I said, watching her anger grow. This woman had a problem with what luskies could do. She had a problem with not being sure she was in charge.

  As the second sister to Ryalgar, I understood that dynamic. Don’t get me wrong, Ryalgar was far more likable than this lady, but she preferred to be in full control, too. I’d spent years learning how to hold my own against such a woman.

  “You’ll never know when I’m using it,” I said. “Best not to piss me off.”

  She turned towards the other luskies. I suppose she wondered if they’d overheard our discussion.

  “You’ll never know when they’re using it either.”

  I knew there was a bit of a taunt in my voice. I wanted it there.

  She glared at me and walked away.

  After practice, Celestine caught up with me.

  “Hey, big sis. What’s with you and the lady in charge?”

  I shrugged. “She has some issues to work out. How come none of you singers are the least bit afraid of us? Are you sure you people aren’t all luskies too?”

  She knew I joked, but she answered like I didn’t.

  “Well, we sort of are, in that we know the power of sound. We use it to evoke emotion all the time. The sorrow of a flute. The drumbeat of war. The pleading love of a softly plucked string. How can you be scared of your own language?” Then she added, “Hana is a little scared of all of us, isn’t she?”

  “I think so. She’s pretty fascinated by us, too, though. What do you think she’s up to?”

  Celestine laughed. “You’re so paranoid. I don’t think she’s up to anything, other than trying to make us better at throwing the people who want to kill us off of their horses. That’s a good thing, so stop worrying. She is doing a decent job, and you should give her a break.”

  “I suppose. Maybe she doesn’t like me because I’m Ryalgar’s sister.”

  Celestine gave me a strange look.

  “I’m Ryalgar’s sister, too.”

  “Right. Of course.” What was I thinking?

  “And she seems to like me fine. Maybe ….”

  I gave Celestine a don’t-say-it look, but she said it anyway.

  “Maybe you’re the problem. Just saying.”

  What were sisters for, if not for pointing out things like that?

  The summer turned unusually hot and still, and the winds that cooled off the plains of Vinx barely blew. The next day I left early to avoid the heat, riding with both Chessa and Votto on Nutmeg as we set off for my folk’s farm. I knew harvest had started, and my father would have little time for me, but I could visit with my mother, and perhaps distract Chessa with the outing. Votto had gotten the hang of crawling, and I couldn’t turn my back on him now. Having another set of eyes on him would be helpful, too.

  My real goal, though, was to learn where Olivine was and arrange a way to see her, either at the farm or elsewhere. Of the seven of us, she’d always been the least emotional, perhaps because painting meant more to her than any crisis in our family. Sometimes I envied her detachment.

  When you’re having problems with one sister, that’s what you do. You involve another siste
r. I needed Olivine’s objectivity in figuring out if Celestine was right about Hana.

  Mom prepared lunch for the workers and didn’t see me ride up. I’m sure my surprise visit flustered her and having a strange child with me didn’t help. Good thing a cute baby can ease any awkward situation. Mom and I both used Votto to avoid other topics as she cooed at him and asked after every detail of his well-being.

  She pretty much ignored Chessa, which I found discourteous, but Chessa either didn’t notice or didn’t care. I suspected our farmhouse was grander than any home she’d ever been in. After she asked Mom if she could walk around and look at things if she didn’t touch any of them, my mother softened a little and agreed. She asked with such politeness. After that, Chessa entertained herself.

  I learned I’d just missed Olivine, but she planned to be back the first day of the next ank-break to hold an archery practice. Then, I helped my mother serve lunch to Dad and the workers, and she softened a little more. She’d always appreciated my helpfulness. After we’d eaten, I fed Votto while she pulled out some old dolls and gave them to Chessa to play with. With Chessa occupied, Votto asleep in my arms, and everyone else back in the fields, she and I could no longer avoid each other.

  “You’ve changed,” she said. “Perhaps marriage? Motherhood? Your career in teaching?”

  She was right, I had. But I wondered how she saw it.

  “In what way, Mom?”

  She stood, while I sat holding Votto. Mom had always had a regal posture, with the height and full body that made a woman imposing. She looked down on me now.

  “You’re colder. More argumentative.”

  Okay. I hoped she’d say I was better at standing up for myself, but I guess she saw it differently.

  “Maybe it’s all the time you’ve spent with Ryalgar lately,” mom added. “She always was more confrontational with me.”