Hannah finished washing the supper dishes. She had just reached the hallway with a stack of clean towels when she heard Molly's voice from Grant's study. "Ask her." Hannah stopped. Grant answered. No, Henry said, "Why not?" "Because No, that's not an answer.
It's the one you're getting." Hannah should have moved. Instead, she stood just beyond the halfopen door. Molly said, "She could be our mama." Silence. Hannah's grip tightened around the towels. Henry added, "She already does everything." Grant's voice came low.
That is not the same thing. It could be. No. Molly asked. Don't you like her?
Hannah's heart beat hard. Grant did not answer at once. Henry said, "You do?" Grant exhaled. "Yes." The word was quiet. Simple.
Hannah closed her eyes. Inside the room, Molly said, "Then marry her. Grant's chair creaked. Listen to me." The children went quiet. Hannah loving you does not mean she owes me her life.
Henry protested. But she likes it here. That is not the point. What is? Grant's answer came slowly.
Staying for you two isn't the same thing as choosing me. Hannah forgot to breathe. The room stayed silent. Then Molly said, "But what if she chooses you, too?" Grant's voice was almost too soft to hear. Then she gets to say it.
Henry said, "You could ask. I could then ask. Grant was silent for a long time. Hannah stood frozen in the hallway. Finally, he said, "Not while she thinks leaving hurts you." Henry's voice sharpened.
"That doesn't make sense. It will someday." "No, it won't." Grant almost laughed. Then he said, "If I ask her now, she'll hear you two in the question. She'll hear the pantry and Molly's bad nights and this house. She'll hear everything we need from her.
Another pause. And I need to know that if she stays, it is because she wants me to. Hannah's eyes filled, not because the words were romantic, because they were careful. Painfully careful. That was why he had stopped at the harvest supper.
My children do. He had wanted to say more. Maybe he had almost said more. But she had been standing there humiliated, surrounded by whispers with his children clinging to her. Anything he offered then could have sounded like rescue.
Grant had refused to make love sound like pity. Molly asked, "What if she leaves?" The answer took longer. Then I let her. Hannah looked down at the towels in her hands. Grant continued, "I won't turn your love into a rope around her heart." Something inside Hannah gave way.
She backed from the doorway silently. One step, then another. She carried the towels upstairs. Her room looked different. Same bed, same washand, same chair.
Her burgundy dress hung inside the wardrobe. Edith's $4 remained beneath her handkerchiefs. Her traveling trunk sat beneath the window. Hannah knelt beside it. For weeks, she had waited for Grant to choose her.