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“How would you know?”
“I just know. From knowing her in the past,” I added.
“We’ll see. Whatever, it’s fine now. There were many others who will talk about it.”
“What do you know about Mr. Price?” I asked. She was silent. “And Sylvia?” I added firmly.
“I know what your husband told me. How he and you handle this is your business. I don’t have to know everything.” She paused and then said, “I know enough.”
I bet you do, I thought. I bet you’ve had your ear to the door of Arden’s office whenever I was in there. I asked her, “Did you know he had a stroke?”
“No. Why would I want to know? It would be very unwise to show any interest in him right now, Audrina. You are such an innocent.” She shook her head as if that was a sign of failure.
“Wouldn’t people just think you were being considerate, compassionate, if you asked about him?” Maybe I was innocent, but why would her questioning about him cause any suspicions?
“Why have them think anything at all?” she countered. “Besides, his welfare especially is the least of our concerns. We should stay focused on the project.”
“Project.”
“Whatever you want to call it—fake pregnancy, switch, whatever. Choose the words you want. Anyway, after this, you’ll have no trouble staying inside until Sylvia gives birth and even a little while afterward. People who saw you today or those who hear about you will question me whenever I’m out and about. I’m going to tell them you’re confined to bed now. In fact, I’d be happier if Sylvia was.”
I didn’t like her tone, the way she was ordering me about, taking charge of everything, even Arden’s and my lives. “I’ll discuss it with Arden,” I said.
“I’ve already done that. He agrees, of course. Concentrate on your sister, not yourself,” she said.
“That’s what I’m doing,” I practically shouted back at her.
Anyone else would have realized she had insulted me by suggesting otherwise, but not our Mrs. Matthews. She simply shrugged and drove on, not even batting an eyelash. How had she ever become a nurse, I wondered, someone who had to have extra sensitivity and compassion for others?
“You weren’t a nurse in a prison, were you?” I asked, still frustrated.
“What?” She actually smiled, a real smile toying with a laugh. “Why did you ask that?”
“You seem to have the right temperament for it,” I said.
Her smile quickly evaporated. “There’ll come a time when you’ll look back at all this and be very grateful that I had the right temperament,” she said, not hiding her crossness.
Had I finally chipped the walls of that cocoon in which she dwelled? I was sure she would tell Arden. They seemed to share a lot more with each other than they shared with me these days.
Mr. Ralph was waiting for us at the steps of Whitefern. He rushed forward, as well as he could rush, to help bring in the groceries.
“Go rest,” Mrs. Matthews told me. “It’s obviously been an emotional morning for you.”
Without comment, I went into the house. Arden, obviously anxious to leave, was dressed for work and standing like a relay runner about to hand me the baton.
“She’s in her room now, resting,” he said. “How did it go?”
“You’ll get a full report from your chief of staff,” I replied, and walked past him quickly to go see how Sylvia was doing.
She was lying with her eyes open but looking up at the ceiling like someone in a daze.
“Sylvia,” I said, sitting on the bed and taking her hand. “Are you okay?”
She looked at me without expression and then suddenly realized it was I. “Audrina, Papa spoke to me here this morning. I kept sitting in the chair, waiting, and he didn’t speak, but today he spoke.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said I should stay in my room now and wait. The baby will be coming. He said I have to be extra careful. You’ll have to stay in your room, too,” she added.
