Maud

Grandpa placed his hand on Maud’s. “Even so, we don’t wish her ill, do we?”


In that moment, Maud wanted to beg her grandpa to take her with him. But she knew it was impractical; he had work to do in British Columbia, and she would only be in the way. She quickly sat down, surveying what was left for breakfast. Maud was suddenly not hungry, but she didn’t wish to worry her grandpa; he thought that if you didn’t have an appetite, you must be dying.

“Tea?” Mrs. Montgomery motioned the pot to Father.

“I think we have time for one more cup before we visit some people at the Kinistino Lodge,” Father said to Grandpa. “You know I helped to start it for Scottish expats when I first arrived in Prince Albert, and it’s thriving.”

Mrs. Montgomery poured Grandpa’s tea, then Father’s, and then her own before replacing the teapot on the table.

She ignored Maud’s cup.

Maud opened her mouth to ask for tea, again, but then Grandpa asked Father, “Did you tell Maud your news?”

Was he going to tell her about the new baby? Had Father changed his mind? Did he want Maud to return to the Island with Grandpa? Maud wasn’t sure if she was angry or relieved.

Father simultaneously winked and added some milk and sugar to his cup. “Your arrival was in the paper!”

“How exciting!” Maud clapped, finding she was, in fact, relieved to have been spared another journey—and the possibility of an awkward conversation about such delicate matters in front of her grandpa. Perhaps she was a bit hungry after all. She picked a piece of toast off the main plate and spread some butter over it.

“It was nice of the editor, J.D. Maveety, to mention it,” Mrs. Montgomery said to her husband, slowly sipping her tea. “Shows how well respected you are in the community.”

Maud eyed her own teacup. It must have been an oversight. Perhaps she didn’t think Maud wanted tea. She would be brazen and ask for tea, that was all. Maud was getting up the nerve when Mrs. Montgomery turned to her with a cold expression. “What are you waiting for, girl? You were late for breakfast; the least you could do is eat your toast quickly so you can help with the dishes.”

Maud had been used to Grandfather’s attacks, but something in Mrs. Montgomery’s tone pierced any last, faint hope Maud had of receiving a mother’s love from her. She hated her for it.

Maud cleared her throat. “May I have some tea, please?”

Father and Grandpa exchanged a look. Mrs. Montgomery’s face went pale. Without a word, she picked up the teapot and poured what appeared to be very strong tea.

“Thank you,” Maud said.

Mrs. Montgomery slammed the teapot down.

“Toast!” Katie said.

“Here, Katie,” Maud said, handing her little sister a piece of her toast, careful to avoid her stepmother’s eye. “Have a little bit of mine.”

What had she done in the brief time she’d been in Prince Albert to make Mrs. Montgomery behave so? She would rather have Grandma’s constant nitpicking than this inexplicable hostility.

“You know, Maudie,” Grandpa began, but he was interrupted by Mrs. Montgomery clicking her fork against her plate. Grandpa placed his napkin on the table, “if you miss Cavendish too much, you can always return with me when I come back this way in September.”

“Maudie—Maud will have started school by that time,” Father said.

Mrs. Montgomery started rattling the dishes together to clear them away. Maud stood up to help her, but she shook her head. “Don’t bother,” she grunted, and went into the kitchen. It was clear that Mrs. Montgomery, at least, would enjoy sending Maud home.

Soon the awkward breakfast came to an end, and Father went to tend to some business, leaving Maud and Grandpa alone.

“I meant what I said, Maudie,” Grandpa said, leaning toward her. “You don’t have to stay here.”

Maud didn’t know why she deserved her grandpa’s kindness after what had happened with Nate in Cavendish.

“Thank you, Grandpa,” she said. “But Father is right; high school starts next week. I’ll stay.”





CHAPTER FOUR


A few days later, Father and Mrs. Montgomery took Grandpa to the train station in Duck Lake. Maud said goodbye to him on the porch, little Katie clinging to her leg. The parting was bittersweet. Although Maud knew that she would see him again in a few weeks, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was losing an ally.

As soon as they left, Katie complained that she was hungry. “How about a little tea party, just you and me?” Maud asked, remembering the tea parties she and Aunt Emily used to have when she was small, before things went sour between them.

Katie nodded her head excitedly.

Maud extended her hand and the little girl took it. “Come with me.” And they toddled together to the kitchen. Maud put Katie in her chair and went to the pantry. She lifted the lock, but it wouldn’t budge. She tried again, nothing. After turning the knob left and right and struggling with it for a few minutes, she looked over her shoulder at her sister and said, “It appears to be stuck.”

“Stuck,” her sister repeated.

“Edie!” she called, searching the kitchen drawers for a key. Why was the cupboard locked?

Edie, who had been upstairs cleaning, came down, broom in hand. “Yes, Maud.”

“Do you know where the key to the pantry is? I wanted to have a little tea party with Katie, but it is locked.”

Edie swung the broom from one hand to the next.

“Edie?”

“Yes.” The broom swayed back and forth.

Maud strode over to the girl and stopped the broom. “The key?”

“She keeps it locked,” Edie said.

“What?”

“She keeps the pantry locked up.”

“Mrs.—Mamma locks the pantry?”

Edie nodded. “She says so she can keep track of things.”

This was madness. Katie needed to eat. Even her grandparents wouldn’t have done something so ridiculous.

“Is the cold box unlocked?” Maud asked.

Edie grinned. “Yes, there is no lock.”

Maud wiped her hands against her apron. “Excellent.” She went over to the cold box and found some cheese and milk. It would have to do.

She played with Katie most of the afternoon, crafting exactly what she would say to Father when he got home. But that night Father came in with letters from Mollie and Lu, and in her excitement to see them, Maud forgot all about it. Letters were exactly the elixir she needed.



The next day, Maud was outside in the back garden rereading the letter from Lu, which gave her the latest goings-on at school, when Mrs. Montgomery’s stepsister, Annie, who was Maud’s age, waltzed in. Maud reluctantly whispered a farewell to Lu and Cavendish, and put the letter in her pocket.

“Hello!” Annie said, making herself comfortable in the chair beside Maud. “Where are Mary Ann and your father?” Annie was wearing a stylish navy blue skirt and matching bodice and her hair was pulled back with clips. Maud found herself envying Annie’s fringe bangs.

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