4

Liza stayed away a week. She cleaned the Trask house from the top clear down into the grain of the wooden floors. She washed everything she could bend enough to get into a tub and sponged the rest. She put the babies on a working basis and noted with satisfaction that they howled most of the time and began to gain weight. Lee she used like a slave since she didn’t quite believe in him. Adam she ignored since she couldn’t use him for anything. She did make him wash the windows and then did it again after he had finished.

Liza sat with Cathy just enough to come to the conclusion that she was a sensible girl who didn’t talk very much or try to teach her grandmother to suck eggs. She also checked her over and found that she was perfectly healthy, not injured and not sick, and that she would never nurse the twins. “And just as well too,” she said. “Those great lummoxes would chew a little thing like you to the bone.” She forgot that she was smaller than Cathy and had nursed every one of her own children.

On Saturday afternoon Liza checked her work, left a list of instructions as long as her arm to cover every possibility from colic to an inroad of grease ants, packed her traveling basket, and had Lee drive her home.

She found her house a stable of filth and abomination and she set to cleaning it with the violence and disgust of a Hercules at labor. Samuel asked questions of her in flight.

How were the babies?

They were fine, growing.

How was Adam?

Well, he moved around as if he was alive but he left no evidence. The Lord in his wisdom gave money to very curious people, perhaps because they’d starve without.

How was Mrs. Trask?

Quiet, lackadaisical, like most rich Eastern women (Liza had never known a rich Eastern woman), but on the other hand docile and respectful. “And it’s a strange thing,” Liza said. “I can find no real fault with her save perhaps a touch of laziness, and yet I don’t like her very much. Maybe it’s that scar. How did she get it?”

“I don’t know,” said Samuel.

Liza leveled her forefinger like a pistol between his eyes. “I’ll tell you something. Unbeknownst to herself, she’s put a spell on her husband. He moons around her like a sick duck. I don’t think he’s given the twins a thorough good look yet.”

Samuel waited until she went by again. He said, “Well, if she’s lazy and he’s moony, who’s going to take care of the sweet babies? Twin boys take a piece of looking after.”

Liza stopped in mid-swoop, drew a chair close to him, and sat, resting her hands on her knees. “Remember I’ve never held the truth lightly if you don’t believe me,” she said.

“I don’t think you could lie, dearie,” he said, and she smiled, thinking it a compliment.

“Well, what I’m to tell you might weigh a little heavy on your belief if you did not know that.”

“Tell me.”

“Samuel, you know that Chinese with his slanty eyes and his outlandish talk and that braid?”

“Lee? Sure I know him.”

“Well, wouldn’t you say offhand he was a heathen?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come now, Samuel, anybody would. But he’s not.” She straightened up.

“What is he?”

She tapped his arm with an iron finger. “A Presbyterian, and well up—well up, I say, when you dig it out of that crazy talk. Now what do you think of that?”

Samuel’s voice was unsteady with trying to clamp his laughter in. “No!” he said.

“And I say yes. Well now, who do you think is looking after the twins? I wouldn’t trust a heathen from here to omega—but a Presbyterian—he learned everything I told him.”

“No wonder they’re taking on weight,” said Samuel.

“It’s a matter for praise and it’s a matter for prayer.”

“We’ll do it too,” said Samuel. “Both.”

5

For a week Cathy rested and gathered her strength. On Saturday of the second week of October she stayed in her bedroom all morning. Adam tried the door and found it locked.

“I’m busy,” she called, and he went away.

Putting her bureau in order, he thought, for he could hear her opening drawers and closing them.

In the late afternoon Lee came to Adam where he sat on the stoop. “Missy say I go King City buy nursey bottle,” he said uneasily.

“Well, do it then,” said Adam. “She’s your mistress.”

“Missy say not come back mebbe Monday. Take—”

Cathy spoke calmly from the doorway. “He hasn’t had a day off for a long time. A rest would do him good.”

“Of course,” said Adam. “I just didn’t think of it. Have a good time. If I need anything I’ll get one of the carpenters.”

“Men go home, Sunday.”

“I’ll get the Indian. Lopez will help.”

Lee felt Cathy’s eyes on him. “Lopez dlunk. Find bottle whisky.”

Adam said petulantly, “I’m not helpless, Lee. Stop arguing.”

Lee looked at Cathy standing in the doorway. He lowered his eyelids. “Mebbe I come back late,” he said, and he thought he saw two dark lines appear between her eyes and then disappear. He turned away. “Goo-by,” he said.

Cathy went back to her room as the evening came down. At seven-thirty Adam knocked. “I’ve got you some supper, dear. It’s not much.” The door opened as though she had been standing waiting. She was dressed in her neat traveling dress, the jacket edged in black braid, black velvet lapels, and large jet buttons. On her head was a wide straw hat with a tiny crown; long jet-beaded hatpins held it on. Adam’s mouth dropped open.