The Mandie Collection (16 page)

Mandie sat still, her heart doing flip-flops inside.

“I suppose there's only one way to say this,” Elizabeth began again. She looked directly into her daughter's blue eyes, so much like her own, and said, “God is sending you a little brother or sister. We won't know which until it gets here around June.” She stopped, watching for Mandie's reaction.

Mandie thought she would smother to death with shock, anger . . . She didn't know how to describe what she felt. She couldn't even speak, she was so overcome.

Elizabeth smiled brightly. “Now, isn't that a wonderful surprise?” she asked, stroking Mandie's blonde hair.

Mandie quickly jerked away. “It can't be my brother or sister because it doesn't belong to my daddy,” she said, trembling. “It's my cousin because Uncle John is its father. That's what it is!”

Elizabeth tried to hold her close again, but she pulled away and jumped up.

“Amanda, I know this is something unexpected, but it's also something that is definitely going to happen,” she said sternly. “So you might as well get used to the idea.”

“I won't! I won't!” Mandie cried. Rushing out of the room, she ran blindly up the stairs and into her room, where she fell across the bed, sobbing wildly.

She was not going to share her mother with another boy or girl. No, she was not! She had finally found her real mother this year, and she was going to hold on to her. No one else was going to have a claim on her, not the least bit.

She cried until she could cry no more. Then she got up and sat by the window. Her eyes were so swollen, she could hardly see.

A long time later there was a gentle tap on her door. Ignoring it at first, she finally yelled, “Go away! I don't want to see anybody, whoever you are.”

The door slowly opened a small crack, and Mandie looked up to see her father's old Cherokee friend, Uncle Ned, peeping through the doorway at her.

Mandie jumped up and ran to him. Flinging the door open, she hugged his neck. “Uncle Ned! Uncle Ned! I'm so glad to see you!” she cried. She took his hand and led him over to the windowseat. “Sit down, Uncle Ned.”

The old Indian sat beside her and finally spoke. “Good to see Papoose,” he said. “Sallie and Morning Star come, too.”

“They did?” Mandie started to get up.

Uncle Ned grabbed her hand. “Wait, Papoose. First we talk.”

Mandie reluctantly sat back down and realized instantly that her mother must have told him what had happened. “I know what you're going to say, Uncle Ned, but I'm not going to listen to you,” she said angrily. “I don't want a brother or sister, and I'm not going to have one!”

“Papoose!” Uncle Ned spoke sharply as he held her hand. “Do not speak like that! God will hear you. God sends your mother this new papoose. He gives her great joy. You must have great joy, too. Must love new papoose.”

“No, Uncle Ned, I won't!” Mandie remained stubborn.

“I never see Papoose make fuss like this,” Uncle Ned said, a frown deepening the wrinkles in his weathered face. “Remember. Jim Shaw
tell me watch over Papoose when he go to happy hunting ground. I watch. I not like what Papoose do now. Jim Shaw not like what Papoose do now.”

“Leave my father out of this,” Mandie said belligerently. “This has nothing to do with my father.”

“Papoose wrong,” Uncle Ned said. “Jim Shaw would want wife Elizabeth happy. She happy now with John Shaw. They both happy now with new papoose coming. Big papoose make mother sad when jealous.”

“Me jealous, Uncle Ned? Oh, no, I'm not.” Mandie tried to pull her hand loose. “Uncle Ned, I really love you, and I don't want to hurt you, but let's not talk anymore about this. I don't want to hear about it.”

“That will not make new papoose go away,” the old Indian said. “Papoose be here in June. Must be loved.”

“I will not love it, and there's nothing anyone can do about that,” Mandie insisted. “Now if you don't mind, I'd like to go downstairs and see Sallie and Morning Star.”

Uncle Ned released her hand and stood up. “Papoose look in mirror. Wash face first.” He smiled and left the room.

Mandie quickly looked in the mirror and saw what he meant. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her hair was a mess. She hurried to the bathroom and washed her face in cold water. Then she came back and brushed out her long hair. Squaring her shoulders, she headed downstairs to see her friends. She hated to think of facing her mother again, but she couldn't stay in her room forever. So she walked slowly down the stairs.

Looking over the bannister, she saw Uncle Ned's granddaughter in the hallway below. “Sallie!” she cried excitedly. She rushed down and embraced her young Indian friend.

Sallie greeted her and smiled, but Mandie could tell something was wrong. She decided Sallie must know about the disagreement Mandie had with her mother.

Glancing into the parlor, Mandie saw all the adults in there, and she took Sallie aside. “Let's go back here and talk,” she said, leading the way into the sun room. But when they got there, Mandie was surprised to see Joe sitting alone, looking out the window.

“Why are you here by yourself, Joe?” Mandie asked. Her voice sounded scratchy from all the crying she had done, and she tried not to look him straight in the face because of her swollen eyes.

“I know what happened between you and your mother, Mandie, and I figured you'd be coming back here instead of where your mother is in the parlor,” he said as the two girls took seats nearby. “You see, if you remember, I told you that you wouldn't like the big surprise.”

“Joe Woodard!” Mandie exclaimed. “Would you stop trying to read my mind?”

“You've got to admit, I do a pretty good job of it most of the time, don't I?” he said, laughing.

“I don't want to talk about it,” Mandie said quickly. “Let's go outside for some fresh air, Sallie. You, too, Joe, if you want to.”

“That would be nice,” Sally agreed.

Without another word the three got their coats from the hall tree and went out the front door. The snow had melted a lot more, and they wandered across the yard toward the summerhouse.

Suddenly Mandie stopped and pointed. “Isn't that Hilda out there?”

The three of them hurried in that direction. Hilda evidently didn't hear them coming, and when they stopped by the railing, she was sitting on the circular seat in the summerhouse, moving pieces of red and green paper around and singing, “Red, green, red, green, secret.”

Mandie let out a moan. “Look! She has pieces of paper from my presents. It
was
her, after all. Remember how we caught her walking backward out here in the snow?”

Hilda heard them then and quickly tried to hide the pieces of paper as the three young people came near her. She dodged past them and ran back toward the big house. As she did she dropped the key to the tunnel door.

“Well, there's the solution to that mystery,” Joe said, picking up the key.

“Let's see where she goes,” Mandie said, hurrying after her. Joe and Sallie followed.

Hilda ran into the parlor and sat down next to Mrs. Taft, hiding the pieces of paper in the folds of her skirt. Mandie and Joe stopped in the doorway.

Morning Star, sitting by the fire, saw Mandie and came to hug her tight.

“Christmas merry,” the old Indian squaw said the greeting backwards.

“Merry Christmas, Morning Star,” Mandie said, giving her a hug. “I'm so glad you came to see us.”

At that moment Abraham came to the parlor door, carrying the huge box Mandie and Joe had found in the attic.

The other servants followed Abraham into the room as he walked over and set the box down in front of Elizabeth.

“Come on, let's go back to the sun room,” Joe urged Mandie and Sallie.

“Wait. I want to see what he's got in that box,” Mandie said.

“Merry Christmas, Miz 'Lizbeth,” Abraham said. “From all of us.”

Elizabeth looked down at the big box. “Oh, Abraham, how nice,” she replied. “Would you do me the honor of opening the box for me, please?” “Yessum,” Abraham agreed. Within seconds he had opened the box, revealing a beautiful handmade cradle loaded with dainty handsewn baby clothes.

Excitedly, Elizabeth examined everything, showing each little garment to John.

Mandie turned and ran from the parlor to the sun room. Joe and Sallie joined her a few seconds later, and they all sat there quietly for a few minutes.

Finally Joe spoke. “Mandie, this is something you've got to learn to live with. It's not going to go away.”

“No!” Mandie said emphatically.

“I wish I had a little brother or sister,” Sallie said gently. “I would be so happy.”

“Me, too,” Joe added. “I always wanted a brother or sister to play with as I grew up.”

Mandie looked doubtfully from one to the other. “But I don't want one. My mother sends me away to school, and now the new one will be allowed to stay home with her all the time. It's not fair.”

“For goodness sakes, Mandie!” Joe exclaimed. “Think how you'll feel when you grow up and have children and the first one is jealous because the second one is coming along.”

“Let's talk about something else,” Mandie said.

Joe and Sallie looked at each other and changed the subject, but Mandie knew the situation wouldn't go away.

Christmas Day passed, and Mandie would not discuss the new baby with anyone. She was ashamed of the way she had acted, but she couldn't talk to her mother about it. And Elizabeth did not mention it again. She only looked at Mandie with sad eyes every time she saw her. Mandie completely ignored Uncle Ned, and he acted hurt. Finally everyone gave up talking to her about it.

Soon it was New Year's Eve, and Celia Hamilton and her mother arrived. But Mandie wouldn't even talk to Celia about the baby.

That afternoon Celia, Mandie, Joe, and Sallie were all in the sun room, making various New Year's resolutions when Uncle Ned joined them.

He sat down next to Mandie. “Papoose, I read Big Book,” he said, reaching for Mandie's hand. “I find verse. It say, little papooses love not in word or by tongue but in deed and in truth.”

Mandie didn't say a word.

Joe sat forward. “I know exactly what you read, Uncle Ned.” He grinned. “First John 3:18 says, ‘My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth.' Isn't that it?”

“Good boy.” Uncle Ned nodded. He turned back to Mandie. “Papoose must do what Big Book say if Papoose want to see father in happy hunting ground some day.”

Tears came to Mandie's eyes and she took a deep breath. “I'm sorry I talked to you like that, Uncle Ned,” she apologized. “Please forgive me. I do love you.”

“I love Papoose,” Uncle Ned reminded her. “I forgive. But Papoose must ask mother forgive, too. Remember, Big Book say not let sun go down on anger.”

Mandie sat silently for a moment. She looked at her three friends and then back to the old Indian. She
was
sorry. “All right, Uncle Ned,” she finally relented. “I'll go tell Mother I'm sorry.”

Mandie quickly left the room and found her mother all alone on the settee in the parlor. Walking up to face her, Mandie quickly said, “Mother, I'm sorry for the way I've acted about your baby. I'm really sorry. Please forgive me.” She fell sobbing into her mother's open arms.

“I knew you didn't really mean what you said, dear. It was just a shock to you, I know,” Elizabeth said, cradling Mandie's head on her shoulder. “But the good Lord has seen fit to send us a baby, and we should be thrilled to have it.” She patted the settee beside her, and Mandie sat down. “I know about that terrible stepsister you had when your father married that woman over there in Swain County,” Elizabeth said. “I know how that woman was cruel to you and made such a difference between you and her own daughter.”

Mandie looked up at her questioningly. “How do you know all these things?”

“Dr. Woodard told me a long time ago,” Elizabeth replied. “But you see, Mandie, your Uncle John won't make any difference between you and the new baby. You love him and he loves you, and he will still love you just as much as he always has.” She brushed a strand of Mandie's hair out of her eyes. “And of course no one could ever replace you in my heart. You will always have my love. I will just have to share it with the new baby, which is what you'll have to do.”

Mandie dried her eyes. “Do you think it'll be a boy or a girl?” she asked, suddenly finding herself interested in this new little person.

“I have no idea, dear,” Elizabeth replied.

“I hope it's a boy,” Mandie said with a smile. “Then I'll still be the only girl.”

“Whatever it is, we have to remember it was God's choice,” Elizabeth reminded her. “Now, go back to your friends. I've got some things I need to do right now, such as talking to
my
mother.”

Mandie hurried back to the sun room, and Uncle Ned was still there with the others, waiting to see what she had to say.

“Everything is all right now,” Mandie told him. “Thank you.”

Uncle Ned smiled as he rose and patted her head. “New papoose will be boy,” he predicted.

Mandie looked up quickly. “But you don't really know . . .” she said. “That's what I want, too, though. A brother.”

Everyone laughed, and the tension was broken. Mandie's anger had melted away.

The new year came in with a happy note. Everyone stayed up for midnight, including the servants. A midnight feast had been laid out on the dining room table for everyone to help themselves.

As the grandfather clock in the front hallway struck twelve, everyone called Happy New Year to each other.

All of a sudden Hilda burst into the room out of nowhere, dangling a big piece of mistletoe high over her head. She ran over to Mrs. Taft and gave her a little kiss on the cheek. “Love,” she said. “Secret.”