Her guard shift over, Clara ran across the road and through her yard, up the steps, and only barely stopped to wipe her feet before entering her house. It had been a cold night, and she knew Belle would have heated the place up as part of making a proper breakfast for their little household.
When she got inside and got the door closed, Framsel was waiting to help her out of her cloak and coat, which was an added touch that surprised her. She thanked him, and tried once again to tell the others that they didn't need to wait for her – with the usual lack of results. Sure, it was her house, but that was one of Carria's notions for how to take care of the family. Yes, she'd had to pay some for the privilege, but she was pretty sure she'd been under-charged, and that neither Carria nor Rhody would never admit it to her.
The meal was fairly substantial, more than an onlooker might expect, since it was her after-work-and-before-sleep meal, and would be Framsel's the next day, as they alternated the pre-dawn guard shift duties. This time it was porridge, with a side of reheated potatoes from the night before, which had soaked up some suet, and even a bit of leftover roast-end.
When they were done, Dahlia interrupted their usual clean-up handling by sending Belle up the hill with Rhody, and directing Framsel to collect things. "You can help keep me on track with it, which I may need, but first I need to talk to Clara."
This nonplussed the nominal home-owner, but she nodded and waved her aunt to follow her into the bigger bedroom. Aunt Dahlia's moments of sufficient clarity were too few to waste in arguing it with her.
"I know you're tired. I won't keep you long."
"Thank you, Aunt Dahlia," she began, but was cut off.
"Let's start with that. Call me Dolly, like my other friends and peers. You're not a little girl any more, and I'd like it to be more clear that I know and respect that. Please."
"Ah...all right, Dolly." She fidgeted a bit, half expecting some older aunt to spring out of the woodwork and slap her for her effrontery. Instead, she got an approving nod and smile from the older woman.
"I'm sorry you have to take care of me, too, and not just my children. It's not fair to you, and when I'm better, we'll talk over how, perhaps, I can try to make it up to you. Yes, I know, dear, you don't have to say it, but I still feel wrong about it."
Clara subsided, having been about to object exactly as her aunt predicted. Again, though, her times of being this much herself were still too brief to waste.
"And being my peer means, in part, that you don't have to take my advice when I give it, especially unsolicited – but I've seen you looking at Bela's clothes, and Rhody's, and plotting to get them new things. Get yourself some, too. Yes, I know you were told to use that chest to take care of us. But you, in having to look after us… you are part of 'us'. See to your own needs, too."
Clara did start to splutter at that. Incoherently, even, though her aunt seemed to have a good idea what her objections were likely to be.
"If I had any jewelry, we might well be having a different conversation about trust, yes. But Bela was right to give you that chest. I trust your use of it, dear. And, as I said, you are part of 'us'. You're Bela's other mother, and you've done a good job at it. If you want to talk over possible uses of that money later, when you're not struggling to stay awake, we can. For now, I'll get out of your way, and make sure Framsel doesn't try to do all the clean-up from breakfast by himself."
Clara had to chuckle at that, despite how flummoxed she was feeling over the rest of the conversation, because the lad would do that if left too long. She nodded and gave a tired wave as the older woman went back out into the main room, closing her door for her again. She undressed and got into bed, intending to think over their conversation, but she was out almost as fast as her candle.
