Page 39 of Thus with a Kiss I Die
Mamma murmured calming words to her belly, then called Katherina and me over. “You girls rub him for a while, and no more shouting.” As she knew it would, having Katherina and me kneel together and care for her child calmed us all. Nurse joined in by rubbing Mamma’s shoulders, and as we patted and caressed, the child visibly slowed its thrashing. Mamma told Katherina, “This evening, I was helping Rosie understand the joys and duties of a wife, and she was telling me—”
“About Nonna Ursula and the séance.” One glance proved I’d successfully diverted Mamma and Katherina from any further discussion of Cal’s passions, and for the moment, at least, no whisper of Elder would cross my lips. “Nonna Ursula bade me tell you—while she should be enjoying the closing moments of her life, she is instead disturbed in her mind about the fugitive assassin who slayed her son.”
“Poor woman.” Sympathetic tears welled in Mamma’s eyes.
“She fears what we all fear, that he walks among us and he’ll strike again. To bring the villain out of hiding, she suggests we conduct a séance to reach to the other side and ask for the truth from those who have gone before.”
Imogene bounced into the room from the doorway. “How cool! Can I come?”
Mamma seemed not at all surprised. Did she always pay attention to who listened at the door? “Honey, you’re awfully young. I think if we limit the attendance to Rosie and me—”
“You’re not to attend,” I said to Mamma.
At the same time, Katherina said, “I’m coming, too!”
“No. No!” This was not at all what I intended. “I wasn’t issuing an invitation, simply explaining what—”
“You can’t imagine I’d let you go into a séance alone?” Mamma sounded shocked and insulted. “Indeed, I’d forbid such a nefarious undertaking, but Nonna Ursula had a reputation in the past for communing with the spirits for good. Her intervention gave dear Lady Alba the assurance that her little child had joined the angels, and Lady Alba was at last able to leave mourning behind and live again.”
Katherina clasped her hands in supplication.
Mamma sighed and nodded at her. “So it shall be.”
“It’s not fair,” Imogene whined. “I wanna go. I wanna talk to Zuann!”
“What do I tell you?” Mamma used her reproving voice.
Imogene’s lip trembled. “ ‘Justice and life seldom walk hand in hand.’ ”
“What does that mean?” Mamma asked.
“ ‘Life ain’t fair.’ ” Imogene’s eyes filled with tears.
I couldn’t stand it. She was such a dear sister, hounded by the oncoming and inevitable baggage-train wreck of adolescence, and she’d be miserable at home. I beckoned her over and put her hand on Mamma’s belly. As she rubbed, I saw her tears subside, and I smiled. “Mamma, if we’re going en masse . . . the more the merrier.”
“Not Emilia!” Nurse said sharply.
“No, and not Cesario.” Mamma gave Imogene consent without words, and my dear wayward sister lit up like an overfilled oil lantern.
“In the morning, I’ll write a note to Nonna Ursula,” I decided. “So she won’t be surprised.”
“We won’t tell Papà, will we?” Mamma requested. “We’ll keep this our secret?”
“Tell me what?” Papà asked from the door.
“Girl stuff,” Mamma said airily.
“I beg you, don’t tell me.” Papà came over and lifted us, one by one, to our feet. “It’s been a big night and you should all be abed. Nurse, will you take them?” He knelt beside his Juliet, gently pressed both his hands on her belly, and called, “Imogene, is it still a boy?”
Imogene laughed out loud. “So much boy!” She raced down the galley toward the girls’ room.
Katherina sighed in exasperation, then raced after her.
Nurse stepped out, glared at me as if it was my fault, and followed me into the corridor.
I glanced back as I exited to see Mamma murmuring to Papà, showing him where to touch, then using both her own hands to press on the babe, and they both had such expressions on their faces that I had never seen. I stopped in place. “Mamma, are you well? Is the babe? Do you need me?”
She looked up. “Are you still here, child?” For a woman so attuned to her children, her surprise seemed, well, surprising.
