Corner of the Housetop: Buried Secrets (27 page)

Derek leaned forward a little. He would bet anything Mrs. Worthington wasn't too happy about Jonathan stopping her from punishing him. That was another thing he wanted to ask Jonathan about. That was almost stranger than the man mentioning Derek's mother in the first place. "Were they arguing about the scene at the party?"

"I couldn't tell, but I don't know if I've ever heard Master Worthington raise his voice like that, and especially not to his mother. It was just lucky Missus Worthington (Master Worthington's wife) was able to sleep through it all. Atty and I decided to let her be 'til they were through. Bath water was almost cold by the time those two laid off."

"Wish I could've heard him yelling at her. I'd pay to see it."

"If things keep up the way they've been going, you just might hear some of it. Master Worthington's been mighty rude to Missus Worthington lately, and I don't reckon she's going to put up with it too much longer."

Derek grinned despite his mounting nerves.

"Here." Beth pushed a pile of clean saucers into Derek's hands. "For the table."

Nodding, Derek left, taking the stairs two at a time as he balanced the saucers carefully. The news that things really were as unstable among the Worthingtons as they looked from the outside brought a strange thrill of pleasure and nerves to his stomach. He wasn't sure if he should be happy that Mrs. Worthington was finally getting told off, or worried about what the power-shift might do to his own position in the household. Either way, he figured things couldn't get much worse for him than what he was already used to.

In the first floor hall, Derek walked slowly by the stairs, listening again. The waking up sounds were a little louder. He strolled slowly around the table, setting out plates, saucers, glasses, and silverware, all the while straining his ears for footsteps on the stairs.

Just as he was running out of dishes to set, heavy footfalls came towards the dining room. His eyes half-lidded, Jonathan stopped in the doorway. "Beth if you could "

There was a long pause in which Derek didn't dare speak.

The expression on Jonathan's face was, as always, unreadable. Finally, the man said, "When you go back downstairs, send Beth up to see me. I have mending that has to be done before we leave for church." He started to walk out of the room.

Taking a gulp of heavy air, Derek blurted, "Who was she?"

Jonathan froze.

"Was she really just a...a servant?"

Several seconds passed before Jonathan faced Derek again. His eyes were hard and not so tired looking. His tone was cold with insurmountable distance, coming to Derek not from across the room, but as if from another world. "Mother has told you everything you'll ever know about your parents."

"But I just thought "

"Silence!" Jonathan yelled, startling Derek. Whatever he might have done, Jonathan had never been one to raise his voice. He was like his father that way. Glaring at the boy with what could only be hatred, his voice deadly cold, he continued, "You are in this household as a servant. You have been kept here because of my mother's generosity. It is not your place to ask questions."

"It is when everyone's keeping something from me!" Derek heard the desperation in his own voice, but there was no time to feel embarrassed by it. This was his only chance to learn anything about his parents, and it seemed no matter how tightly he tried to hold it, it was slipping away. He clenched his fists to keep his hands from shaking.

Peering at him for a moment, Jonathan sneered, "No one's keeping anything from you. You're a delusional little boy, with fairy tale thoughts that somewhere out there, there might be someone you belong to. Someone who might want you."

Derek glared at Jonathan, fighting the urge to yell at him. He knew he was lucky Mrs. Worthington wasn't bearing down on him as it was.

"Your mother is dead." A ringing silence greeted the proclamation. "She
was
a servant in this house." There was a sneer of disgust behind these words. "And that's all you need to know."

Unable to form a response, Derek only stared, his insides gripped by a strange and heavy feeling. The back of his throat started to itch and it was impossible to swallow.

Jonathan continued to stare at Derek for several seconds, his hard, cold eyes boring into Derek's. In an infuriatingly calm voice, he said, "Send Beth up when you go back to the kitchen. I have mending that has to be done before we leave for church."

Derek stood still, unable to move as he watched Jonathan disappear around the doorframe. He listened as weary steps went up the stairs and down the hall.

At least ten minutes passed while Derek stood there, his fists still clenched painfully. When at last he heard the softer, quicker steps of Mrs. Worthington coming down the stairs, he slipped down the hall and onto the kitchen stairs before she spotted him.

By the time he reached the kitchen, he'd made up his mind admittedly against his better judgment to try talking to Jonathan again later.

Derek sighed, feeling impatient and restless. The rain that beat against the windows had been growing heavy and slackening in a steady pulse all morning, and it seemed to be the perfect expression of his mood. Ever since hearing Jonathan's defense of his mother, he had been on a track of ups and downs, and their earlier conversation had done nothing to ease the tension and anxiety he felt. He'd been racking his brain to try and understand the clues Jonathan had given him, but the answers he came to always led him to twice as many new questions.

Derek punched the arm of the chair he was sitting in.

"If you aren't going to help me, you can go back out to the stable. You're being distracting," Beth scolded.

"I'm helping," he grumbled, standing up. He picked up his rag and started wiping the small end table. He had agreed to help Beth clean the house in the hope that it would make the time go faster until the family returned from church. He also hoped he would still be inside when Jonathan came in so he could have a better chance at cornering him.

Several minutes passed in silence before Beth sighed and said, "Another rainy Sunday."

"Maybe they'll be back early."

Peering at Derek suspiciously, Beth asked, "Why are you suddenly so anxious for the Worthingtons to be home?"

Derek was quiet for a few seconds. "I thought I might be able to try and talk to Jonathan again. He was willing to talk about my mother last night, maybe he'll be willing today."

"I thought it went poorly this morning," she observed without tact.

"Well, yes," Derek confessed, "but I just can't stop thinking about it. There must be more to it. You didn't see how angry he was last night. People don't get that angry over plain servants."

"I'm sure Master Worthington was just riled about the wine being spilt."

Derek could only glare at her.

Beth sighed. "Derek, I don't want you to get your hopes up that he's going to tell you anything you don't already know."

Not replying, Derek continued to wipe the table in slow, thoughtful circles.

He had told Beth everything that had happened in the house after Jonathan had hauled him inside while she washed the breakfast dishes that morning. He had also shared the conversation in the dining room. If he wanted comfort or sympathetic indignation, he had gone to the wrong place. After listening to the events, Beth had shaken her head at him and told him how foolish he was for starting the fight with Anthony in the first place. When he had pointed out Jonathan mentioning his mother, she had shaken her head again with a look of pained longsuffering.

It was clear from her short, non-answers that she was still being resolutely objective, and it was starting to annoy Derek beyond words.

Just as Derek finished dusting the table and putting the small vase of tea roses back in its place, Atty walked into the room, wiping her hands on her apron. "Mrs. Worthington is asking if we're all going upstairs and to read with her today."

Not bothering to look at Beth, Derek stuffed his rag into his pocket and walked towards the main staircase. He heard Beth and Atty walking behind him as he stomped up to the second floor hall. As he approached Catherine's door, his steps slowed and softened. He knocked lightly.

"Come in." Her voice was breathy.

Derek pushed the door open and stepped cautiously into the room.

Catherine was sitting up in her bed. Her face was ghostly, but she smiled and Derek thought she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. "Good morning, Derek."

"Good morning, Miss Catherine."

"Come and sit down."

As Beth and Atty filed into the room, Derek sat in the chair beside Catherine's bed.

"I was thinking about your questions from last week, and I found something that might help you understand better. I think we should talk about Deuteronomy." Catherine stopped suddenly, looking around the bed. She turned and smiled when she saw her Bible on the bedside table. "Derek, will you please hand me my book?"

Wordlessly, Derek handed it to her and waited while she turned pages.

She began to read: "'If there be among you a poor man of one of thy brethren within any of the gates in thy land which the Lord thy God giveth thee, thou shalt not harden thine heart, nor shut thine hand from thy poor brother:

But thou shalt open thine hand wide unto him, and shalt surely lend him sufficient for his need, in that which he wanteth.'"

"That was beautiful, Mrs. Worthington." Beth smiled wistfully and Derek wondered momentarily what she was remembering.

Catherine smiled again. "We are commanded to give to any who are in need, no matter what their need is for. Some people need food, or clothing. Other people need attention, understanding, and love. There are many kinds of 'poor' in the world. Every man is poor of something. Because we all have needs, we are all equal in God's eyes. Derek, you asked if He could really love every single person, and the answer is yes, He can, because each of us is the same to Him."

"Just because someone needs something doesn't mean they have to be mean or do bad things. Why does he love people who sin?"

"People have motivations that we don't always know. Most always, people cause pain because they feel pain themselves. Only God can see why a person is doing something."

Derek peered at the Bible Catherine was holding in both her white, papery hands. He didn't see how one book could tell a person the answer to every question, but it seemed that Catherine had found a way to make it work.

Her expression becoming thoughtful, she continued, "Sometimes the gentlest man in the world can be cruel. And there is no way to know why. But you have to understand and trust that God knows why, and just love him and try to give him what he needs." Catherine seemed to be talking to someone who wasn't there about something only they two knew. "Do you understand?"

Derek nodded slowly. Though he wasn't entirely sure he really did, it seemed very important in his mind that he tell Catherine he did. Hearing that he understood seemed to be what she needed. When Catherine smiled again, Derek knew he had done the right thing.

Derek was startled when Atty stirred behind him. He forgot the women were in the room also.

"Thank you, Mrs. Worthington. It was lovely."

"Thank you for coming."

As the others left, Derek stood reluctantly. "Thank you."

"You can stay if you want to. This is a very thick book and I'm sure we can find at least a little more reading in it."

Derek sat back down, pulling the chair closer beside Catherine so he could pretend to read with her. The pages weren't quite the jumble of meaningless symbols that they were last time, but he was still nowhere near being able to understand the words.