“Ruth told me about Rose and what happened to her father ... the explosion at sea,” Logan explained, strangely calm about the fact that his wife had been with another man—not to mention a man they’d once argued about heatedly in the street. He couldn’t have forgotten, could he?
“I had no idea about any of that,” he added. “Why didn’t you mention it in a letter?”
Emma found it odd that there was no accusation in his voice, only curiosity.
“I didn’t know how to,” she replied. “Everything was always so uncertain with Oliver, and then ... when I found out whathappened to him ... I didn’t really want to talk about it. Or write about it.”
Rose began to squirm and fuss, and Emma was grateful for the timely reprieve because this was not a conversation she was prepared for.
“I’m sorry,” Emma said, frazzled. “I need to change and feed her. Will you excuse me?”
“I’ll bring you a bottle,” Ruth offered, and made for the kitchen.
Emma started up the stairs. “I’ll be back down shortly. Um ... please, have a seat in the living room.”
“Take your time,” Logan easily replied as he watched Emma dash up the steps to the second floor.
Ruth walked into Emma’s bedroom and closed the door behind her. In a quiet voice, she said, “I swear I had no idea he was coming. He just showed up at the door, out of the blue.”
Emma finished pinning Rose’s diaper. “Where’s Matthew?”
“Off somewhere on his bicycle. I told him to be home in time for dinner.”
Emma began to dress Rose in a clean flannel sleeper. “What are we going to tell him when he comes home? ‘Hi, Matthew. Say hello to your father. Now go wash your hands for supper.’”
Ruth sat down on the edge of the bed. “Should we ask him to leave and come back tomorrow?”
“Where’s he staying?” Emma asked.
“At a hotel in Dartmouth. He took the ferry across and walked here.”
“How long has he been in town?”
“Since yesterday, he claims.”
Emma fastened the last snap on Rose’s sleeper, carried her to the rocking chair, and sat down. Ruth handed her the bottle.
“Thank you.” She placed the rubber nipple into Rose’s mouth and watched her suck hungrily. It was a welcome moment for Emma to collect her thoughts and think about what was best for her son.
She looked up at Ruth. “I need time to prepare Matthew for this. Will you go downstairs and tell Logan that? Ask him to leave and come back tomorrow morning. And find out what hotel he’s staying at, in case we need to call. Hopefully, he’ll understand.”
Ruth nodded and left Emma alone with Rose, rocking her to sleep in the chair.
Twenty minutes later, Rose was down for her afternoon nap, and Logan had left. Emma went downstairs and found Ruth in the kitchen, stirring a pot of cabbage soup. “Thanks for sending him away. I was so caught off guard, I didn’t know what to say to him, and I don’t want that to happen to Matthew. I want to arrange a proper meeting between them so that he can be prepared.”
“It was a good decision,” Ruth said. “Definitely talk to Matthew first.”
A short while later, as Emma was setting the table, the front door opened and Matthew walked in.
“Welcome home!” she called out from the kitchen.
He kicked off his shoes. “What’s for supper?”
“What, no hello?”
“Hi,” he said, as he entered the kitchen.
Emma laid a cloth napkin beside each plate. “How was your day? Where did you go?”
