When the Bough Breaks Read Online Free PDF

Sometimes he looks at us as if he doesn't even remember who we are; he is so full of pain, it hurts me to look at him.
    Little Eddie drinks six bottles of milk a day, quarts of milk that have to be paid for. Father says I'm to keep the egg money, and he will give me money to pay bills and for housekeeping at the end of the month; but I know there will be times when he won't be able to. Mother used to say, “I've a little put by; we'll manage,” and when that happened, somehow we did. But I can't sleep at night for worrying about it.
    I know how to sew, how to mend clothes, and how tomake over old ones for the baby.
But where will I find time when I start school in the fall? How will everything get done?
    It's a scorching summer – the nights feel almost as hot as the days. Eddie still finds it hard to settle after his night feed, and so do I. The traveling woman was right when she said, “There's a difficult time ahead”; the problem is, I can't see it ever getting easier. I wish I was still the same girl who used to look forward to the day instead of someone who frets about every little thing.
    Last night, I took out my old clothes-peg dolls and lined them up on the bed in front of me, whispering their names. I thought I'd put all but four back in the dresser drawer, where they've lain for years. I'd left out the four for Eddie to look at and for me to teach him the names: Father, Millie, Hamish, and Eddie. But in the morning, five pegs were lined up. Something must have stopped me from returning one of the “mother” dolls. It isn't a family without the mother. … I'll never be ready to be without mine.
    I hurry from chore to chore through the endless days, never quite catching up. There are Eddie's diapers to boil, to rinse and hang out on the line, then to fold and iron; there's the garden to weed and water, and floors to wash. And always, like a bruise that is tender after a fall, there's the ache of missing Mother.
    How can one little baby take up so much time?
I'll have to go and see Mr. Mercer this afternoon and ask him tohold my job open for one more week. I don't like to ask –
suppose he won't take me back?
I just have to get some of the chores finished before I return to work.
    After lunch, I ask Hamish if he'll watch Eddie for half an hour, so I can go. It's not wise to take the baby out in the hottest part of the day, the nurse at the clinic told me.
    Hamish pouts. “Do I have to? I'm going swimming below the dam with the other boys. We dive around the locks under the swing bridge. All the boys will be there, at least a hundred.”
    “Then one more won't be missed, nor is the river likely to dry up before you get there, son,” Father says. “And, Millie, please let Mr. Mercer know he can bring Charlie in this evening, before he does the deliveries. I'll keep the forge open for him; he thinks the horse may have a twig or a stone lodged in his foot.” That's the most I've heard Father say in days, and he took my side, which shows he must have been listening … almost like he used to…. Before.
    “I'll tell him, Father. Thank you, Hamish, I won't be gone long. Why don't you read your comic to Eddie? He'd like that.” I coax Hamish, but I shouldn't have to. I'm only three years older than he is, and yet all of a sudden I have to be responsible for everything. If Father hadn't been here, I know Hamish would have refused to stay.
    I'm out of breath by the time I reach the drugstore.The heat is fierce, but the big brass fan that hangs from the center of the ceiling keeps the shop pleasantly cool. I bet the little back room is as hot as an oven. The store is quiet at this time of day, especially when it's sweltering like this – customers come early in the morning or late in the afternoon.
    Mr. Mercer, dressed in the white coat he always wears, walks round from behind the counter to greet me. He murmurs his condolences and asks, “The baby is keeping well, I hope?”
    “Yes, thank you, sir, a little