Not all at once. Not in the organized way of a social call, but in the casual practical way of ranching country. A man stopping by with extra fence posts. A woman sending her boy over with a covered dish. Jim Larkin appearing one Saturday with two of his hands and spending the entire day on the barn wall without being asked and refusing anything beyond coffee.
Helen from the dry goods counter sent a bolt of good wool cloth with a note that said, "Only for the girls." No occasion. Clara made three new dresses. She let Lily choose the cuts. She let Rose choose the buttons.
She let Emma pretend she wasn't paying attention while paying extremely close attention. When Emma put her dress on the first morning and stood in the kitchen doorway, looking as though she was trying to decide whether she was allowed to like it, Clara said. It suits you. Emma looked at the cuffs. It's very blue.
You chose the fabric. Clara said, "I know." A pause. I like blue. I know.
Clara said. Emma looked up. Her face was doing the thing it did now more often, letting things through instead of holding everything back. The careful, cautious opening of someone who has decided incrementally and with great effort that it might be safe to feel things in front of another person. Miss Clara, she said, h I was wrong about you.
She said it the way she did everything directly without softening but without cruelty. When you came, I decided things before I should have. You were protecting your family, Clara said. I was scared, Emma said. Same as what you told Lily about the crying.
Clara waited. I was scared that if someone came in and things got better, it would mean. Emma stopped. Her jaw tightened briefly. It would mean it was possible for things to be better.
And if it was possible and it hadn't happened, then maybe Papa wasn't. She stopped again, looked at the wall. It wasn't fair to him. I know that now. You were 14 years old and you'd lost your mother, Clara said.
Fear doesn't have to be fair. Still, Emma said. She looked at Clara directly. I'm sorry. Clara held her gaze.
You have nothing to apologize for, she said. You did what you had to do. And then when it mattered, you sat down at that table and you pushed the ledger 2 in toward me. That's not something to apologize for. That's something to be proud of.