Faithful Read Online Free PDF Page B

shame.”
    Lose everything. My inheritance. Shame. My stomach became an open pit. I heard another mumbling, indistinguishable response. Then there was a slam, as of a book hitting wood, and I jumped.
    “Damn it!” came Grandpapa’s voice. “I’ll not have you ruining my good name yet again!”
    I heard movement and, just in time, I slipped behind the hall-closet door, peering through the crack to see my grandfather storm from Papa’s studio, flinging the door open against the wall in his wake.
    I trembled as I stepped out of the closet into the hallway and looked into the studio.
    Papa sat behind his desk, his head in his hands. His work, half packed, lay strewn about the room: blueprints, books, letters, and contracts. I rested my hand on the doorframe. “Why is Grandpapa so angry with you?” I said it so soft that my voice floated.
    Papa lifted his head and looked at me.
    I took a step into the room. “I can help you straighten things out. Get things ready to go.” I bent and picked up a stack of blueprints and placed them in the trunk waiting to be packed.
    Papa cleared his throat. “Thank you, Margaret.”
    “What did Grandpapa mean, we’d lose everything?” My voice trembled.
    “He doesn’t understand. We’re going to have a whole new life.” His voice was light, as though he was trying hard to be cheerful.
    “When we bring her home, you mean. Then we’ll have a whole new life.” It was meant as a question, but he didn’t answer as he crossed the room to select a stack of books from the case. I bent for another pile of papers and smoothed them on the table with both hands. The room was a mess. “I should have helped you before.”
    “No, no.”
    “When it first happened. I’m sorry I didn’t help you then.”
    He stopped and stared at me again. All I could do was remember the months when he’d sat alone in his studio after Mama had disappeared. The months when he hadn’t worked at all. That was what Grandpapa must have meant; Papa had brought us, brought Grandpapa’s firm, to the edge of ruin. Without Mama, Papa had retreated into a dark place, and it hadn’t been until the letters came from Uncle John that he finally woke up.
    Yet clearly Grandpapa did not believe Papa had changed, and I wanted to know why. “Why does he think Mama’s disappearance is your fault?”
    “What?” Papa’s voice was a whisper.
    “I heard him. He blames you.”
    Papa cleared his throat. “In point of fact, Maggie, your mother disappeared a long time ago.”
    I didn’t understand what he meant, but I felt sorry for him; Papa couldn’t help Mama’s behavior. But what of the rest of Grandpapa’s accusations? I picked up pile after pile of Papa’s papers. Papa and I worked together in silence for a few minutes, my mind racing, until I found the courage to ask my recurring question.
    “Papa, this trip won’t ruin my chances at finding a suitable husband, will it?” A suitable husband like Edward was my unexpressed thought, someone both suitable and who fulfilled my deepest desire for love. “You promised we would be back in time for my debut, since we’re only going in order to bring Mama home. So it can’t possibly ruin my chances, can it.”
    He had his back to me and I watched him square his shoulders. “I’ll do whatever I can to avoid that outcome, Margaret.”
    “We’ll find her, and then all this will be over, like a bad dream.” I wanted that more than anything.
    “Yes.” Papa’s voice rasped, soft.
    “I should go speak to them,” I said, meaning my grandparents. “Tell them I want to go, so they stop worrying.”
    “Yes.” He looked at me. “That would help.”
    As I left his studio, he reached for me. “Remember. Say nothing to them of your mother.”
    “All right.” I hastened back to the parlor, where the furniture was half draped, and my grandparents were conferring. Apparently my grandfather had chased the men out with his rage.
    “Grandpapa! Grandmama!” I rushed