Free The House on Seventh Street by Karen Vorbeck Williams Page B

ring but never quite touched her pain. All she could do was close her eyes and try to sleep the nightmare away.
    The doctor insisted that they give the baby formula, but he had nothing to prescribe for Nora’s disappointment, her feelings of failure. As clean bed linens snuggled her to sleep, she could not help but compare Juliana’s lovely guest room—the rose covered wallpaper and white curtains, the pretty twin beds covered with pale green coverlets—with the tiny, barely furnished apartment she shared with Henry.
    She longed for those four small rooms: to sleep curled around Henry’s back, to get back to her first cookbook and the mastery of a new art. She wanted to sew curtains for the living room. Handsome new material was waiting for her at home. Nora wanted to go home, even to the ironing board they used for a kitchen table.
    JULIANA REIGNED VICTORIOUS. The doctor insisted that the baby be bottle-fed and her daughter-in-law was drying up in the guest room. She was certain it was for the best. Unknown to everyone, she had been feeding the baby with formula. She went on with her usual preparation, no longer hiding like a sneak thief mixing it up out of sight.
    Juliana had been unable to nurse her own babies and believed the infant formula superior. In fact, she believed she had done Nora a favor. The silly girl was old-fashioned in her thinking and would soon get over her disappointment. Besides, she wanted to feed her granddaughter herself, to hold the bottle and rock the precious child in her arms.
    She had not recovered from her son’s decision to marry without her blessing, or the fact that the wedding had taken place in California. She wondered why Nora, who had come from a fine family, hadn’t known better.
    Juliana had to admit that Henry had chosen well. He married the daughter of a formerly prominent family in Grand Junction. It was, in her opinion, good fortune that Nora’s immediate pregnancy had brought her wandering son home. Ever since he had dropped out of college, he had fruitlessly looked for a job—first in New Orleans and then San Francisco—his two favorite cities. The Depression had made it impossible for him.
    His first two years, Henry had attended Mesa College. His grades were good and he applied to Columbia University’s School of Journalism. When his letter of acceptance arrived, Juliana could not wait to hear the news. She steamed open the envelope. Then came the bitter disappointment. He left Columbia after only one semester, having failed every class. Henry did not want to be a journalist after all. Saying that “a life of hard work and adventure” would suit him better, he wanted to ship out to South America on one of United Fruit Company’s banana boats.
    She doubted that. His remark was designed to horrify her. She had to tell her friends something. “Henry has gone out into the world to find himself.” At the very least, that sounded poetic and not so shameful. Though she could hardly let herself think it, she feared that her son wanted to get as far away from her as possible. The unions came to her rescue when they forced United Fruit to stop hiring non-union men. For the first time in her life, she thanked a union.
    Nora and Henry had joked about getting pregnant on their wedding night, but Juliana wondered. Whether or not Nora was pregnant before the marriage, the scheduled caesarian delivery of the baby exactly nine months to the day after their marriage date had worked perfectly.
    ONE AFTERNOON NORA looked up from her book to see her mother-in-law standing in the guest room doorway with the baby wrapped in a blanket, fondly contemplating her grandchild’s face. Without a word, Juliana raised her narrowing eyes and looked at Nora with a cynical smile on her face.
    â€œNora, my dear,” she said coolly, “you know I could take this child away from you if I wanted.”
    Nora caught her breath and closed her