Free Deadly by Julie Chibbaro Page B

proven
.”
    â€œSurely she’ll understand that she’s connected somehow,” I ventured to him, trying to make up for my joke.
    â€œWe’ll approach her at her place of work,” he said. “The laboratory results will give us our answer.”
    He turned his attention to another task in the office, and I watched him for a minute over my typewriter. Here is a man who has not only solved epidemics, but other things too, like the running water they installed in our neighborhood tenements, and the toilets they put downstairs—all of this to conquer those things that cause death. His goal is cleanliness, an orderliness that will bring health to everyone who lives here. I feel sometimes as if I’m drowning in a sea of unknowns and Mr. Soper is like a ship passing. I call to him, but my mouth is full of dark water, and soon he is out of reach. He seems to work all hours, and never speaks of a family he must return to, not even for holidays like Thanksgiving. He is the first person I’ve met whose home life I cannot imagine. He never seems to need a rest; he lives for his work. One day I hope to be like him, my whole soul focused on my work, to the exclusion of all else.
    Yet I think I would be lonely without my family. Wespent the holiday with Aunt Rachel and Uncle David in Williamsburg, and they were so generous, baking pumpkin pie and turkey legs, mashed yam and challah bread to celebrate the coming together of the Pilgrims and the red man. Uncle David invited a man from the factory, and I’m not sure how to feel about him. Directly after supper Marm sat alone, apple-cheeked in the corner, until the man went over and presented himself to her. It seemed expected that the two of them would meet, this man and Marm (I believe Uncle David invited him for that purpose) and I watched Marm very closely for her reaction. It’s been eight years since my father left, and in all that time, men’s attentions have rolled off my pretty Marm like water drops. I think my absence and the emptiness of my long work hours away from our apartment has given her thought. Maybe she is worried I’ll leave her, maybe the day has come—maybe my matchmaking aunt, as she has tried in the past, has succeeded in convincing her it’s time.
    The thought hardens my stomach. This man from Uncle David’s factory is handsome, with rounded features and a streak of gray in his otherwise dark hair. His eyes look directly and intelligently at a person. Despite Marm’s discomfort, he was impressively persistent and discussed all manner of subjects with her. But Marm is not like her sister Rachel,comfortable in her marriage to the same man for twenty-two years. She, like me, is used to being alone.
    A peachy glow rose on her cheeks as they spoke, and she laughed at the things he said. Her eyes flitted to me, seeming surprised at her own laughter, guilty at it even, yet she seemed engaged, happy, joyous in a way I haven’t seen her in a long time. I have to say, it bothered me. I loved to see her so happy, but I worried about my father, what he might think, what our neighbors would say, Marm with another man—yet even Mrs. Zanberger thinks Marm should surrender the thought of my father’s return….
    Before the night was through, the man was able to extract a promise of an outing with Marm.
    I cannot imagine her on an outing with a man. It doesn’t fit. She is otherwise occupied, she is married, she’s mated for life until death….
    Later I overheard Aunt Rachel and Uncle David talking in the kitchen about Marm marrying this man, and that made my throat hurt. What if the day came and my father returned and Marm had married Mr. Silver? What would happen to my father? What would happen to me?
    I feel torn by this man’s appearance—concerned for my lonely Marm and fearful of my father’s broken heart, shouldhe ever return. I feel we should wait for him, just me and Marm