Alwy knows something good

“Da, how come you got out the big table for supper, is it ’cause the Duke come home?”

“Say, that’s clever thinking, Bertie,” Alwy said approvingly.

“And is that why Ma is making something good? I think he oughta go away more, so he can come home.”

“That’s a good idea, Bertie,” Alwy agreed.

“That’s a real good idea, Bertie,” Gunnilda said sarcastically without turning away from the oven. “And what else is a good idea? Maybe you should get a bath more often so you can have the fun of getting dirty again!”

“Aw, no, Ma, I can get dirty without having a bath first! I just got to get dirti–er.”

Alwy laughed. “He outsmarted you again, Gunnie!”

Gunnilda snorted. “So as you know, Bertie, we’re having something good because Egelric is coming to eat with us, so even if His Grace had not come home today, we would have had ‘something good’ anyway. What do you think of that?”

“Aw, Ma, Egelric is coming?” Bertie asked, sitting up. “Can I show him my puppies?”

“Bertie, you had puppies?” Egelric asked as he stepped into the little house.

“Not me,” Bertie laughed. “My dog!”

“You show him after supper, Bertie,” Gunnilda said. “And don’t you get attached to them puppies, neither, you know you can’t keep ‘em.” She looked back down into her pot with shining eyes. Egelric had come in smiling and making a joke – and she had feared he wouldn’t come at all!

“Well, Gunnilda, ‘When this cometh to pass, then shall they know that a prophet hath been among them.’ I was not ten paces from your door when ‘something good’ happened to me. How did you arrange that?”

“Oh, pish! You can always find something good if you look for it.”

“Ma is making something good for dinner!” Bertie announced.

“I can smell that, Bertie. Your Ma makes good things happen all by herself, especially in the kitchen.”

“Pish! You had better taste it before you praise it,” Gunnilda scolded as she brought supper to the table, but she felt as if she could sing. Here was the old Egelric!

“The girls is sleeping, Egelric,” she added. “They just couldn’t make it to supper.”

“We played too hard,” Bertie said gravely.

“What did you play, Bertie?” Egelric asked seriously.

Gunnilda watched Egelric as Bertie prattled on about his day’s adventures. Something had lifted him up from the depths in which she had seen him that morning. Was it Duke Alred’s return? 

From time to time, whenever Bertie said something especially funny – or sometimes for no apparent reason – he would glance over at her with a look of… what? sly humor? silent understanding? gratitude? Whatever it was, she could only return the look for a second or two before blushing and turning her eyes to a rapt study of her plate.

After Bertie had proclaimed himself full and left to play with his puppies, Gunnilda moved into the seat he had left and contentedly listened to Egelric talking with Alwy.

Nobody talked to Alwy like Egelric did. Most men had no patience with Alwy’s slow understanding and wouldn’t talk to him if they could avoid it. Or worse, if they had an audience, they would lead him on and laugh at him, and poor Alwy would laugh along with them. 

But Egelric knew how to talk to him, how to ask the right questions and lead the conversation in such a way as to make Alwy seem almost as clever as any other man. She had to admit that even she hadn’t often the patience or the interest to talk with Alwy. 

It was the way he had treated Alwy that had made her appreciate him at first. She had even wondered once whether he was aware that Alwy was feeble-​​minded. She blushed to think of how she had disliked him in the beginning, thinking him too proud – why, he was simply competent and knew it. And to think she had once believed the things Elfleda said about him! She shivered at the thought of Elfleda – even as a memory Elfleda could lie like a shadow over the people Gunnilda loved.

Egelric was looking at her oddly. Were her thoughts so easily read?

“What about you, Gunnilda?” he asked. “Did something good happen to you today or did I have all the luck?”

“Oh! Lots of things. His Grace the Duke coming home, for one. And having that Baby around again. And you coming for dinner. And I found that thimble I lost months ago. Oh, and when Wynnie fell today and scraped her knee, I saw Baby bend to kiss it, just as I done to her so many times, and Wynnie stopped to cry. They never even came to me. That was real good.”

Egelric put down his knife and smiled at her – such a smile! as if he didn’t know what to say. And she, fool that she was, could only smile into her plate.

“What about you, Alwy?” she heard him ask then. “I saw the Duke first, so he’s mine, and Gunnilda has already claimed me and Baby. So you have to think of something else that’s good.”

“Well, I don’t know, I’m not so good at thinking of things,” Alwy whined. “Does it have to be something from today?”

“No, Alwy, I suppose not,” Egelric smiled. “But in that case it has to be good enough for more than one day.”

“Oh, then I have something that’s good for lots and lots of days!” Alwy exclaimed. “Me and Gunnie are going to have a new baby soon!”

“Alwy!” Gunnilda wailed.

“What did I do?” he asked. “That’s what you told me!”

“Well – that’s good news, Alwy,” Egelric said after an awkward moment. “That is indeed worth many days of good.”

Gunnilda could feel Egelric’s eyes on her face, but she couldn’t dream of looking up at him now. That Alwy! She was mortified – it was bad enough to flaunt his growing family before a man who had just lost his wife and son – but on top of that, he had to bring to mind that horrible, humiliating conversation she had had with Egelric that morning last summer. Of course Alwy knew nothing about that… Leave it to Alwy! 

Now Egelric knew… knew, or could guess, or could imagine. She could never look him in the eyes again! And after that smile he had given her when she had told him about Baby!

“And, Egelric, if it’s a boy, he’s going to be a priest! He’s s’posed to be my third boy, but I’m not going to have a second boy, so he’s going to be my second. Because Gunnie don’t want her second boy to be a soldier.”

“I see.”

“And, Egelric, Father Brandt said he could be a priest!”

“That’s very good news.”

“Oh, Alwy,” Gunnilda whimpered.

“What did I do? Aren’t you going to have a baby, Gunnie?”

“Alwy, Alwy,” Gunnilda repeated, feeling ill.

“What, Gunnie?”

“You know, Alwy,” Egelric explained quietly, “sometimes ladies like to keep secrets like that for a while.”

“You never told me it was a secret, Gunnie!” Alwy protested.

“That’s all right, Alwy, we just won’t tell anyone else,” Egelric said.

“I’m sorry, Gunnie, I didn’t know,” Alwy whimpered. “You aren’t mad?”

Gunnilda kept her face averted and her eyes tightly shut. She didn’t see how she could open them now.

“Gunnilda,” Egelric said gently, “you look tired after cooking all of this ‘something good’ for us. Why don’t you go lie down while Alwy and I clean up the ‘something left’?”

As much as she hated him just then, she was grateful for the chance to get away. Without even opening her eyes, she stumbled from the chair into the bedroom. She groped in the darkness for the two girls and then curled up on the bed next to them before she burst into silent tears.

She heard Alwy and Egelric talking for a while at the table as she cried, and then moving around as they cleaned and she lay sniffling. She winced when she heard one of them entering the bedroom. 

“Egelric went out to see Bertie’s puppies,” Alwy explained. Only Alwy. “I have to dress Baby and bring her out. You aren’t mad, are you, Gunnie? Gunnie? You sleeping?” 

He patted her with his hands as he looked for Iylaine on the bed. But once he had found Iylaine’s silky head, instead of picking her up, he sat on the bed and laid a hand on Gunnilda’s arm. 

“You sleeping, Gunnie?” he asked softly. When she didn’t answer, he began to rub her shoulder and whispered, “Poor girl, poor girl. Old Alwy always does something wrong. Well, you just sleep, and maybe tomorrow something good will happen to you.”

He gently extracted Iylaine from Gunnilda’s arms and carried her into the other room. And Gunnilda began to cry again into Wynna’s hair, dark hair like her own.