Page 12 of Mail Order Bride

“So, this isn’t one of your “stories.’”

“Might as well be.” She cackles and then I hear her swat the door. “Now, get out!”

The volume on the television lowers until it’s silent. “Hey! What are you doing?” Martha demands.

“I will not fire her. And that’s that.”

“Whatever—just turn up the TV.”

My shoe slips off my heel as I move away from the wall, and in the process, I knock over the mop and bucket. It tumbles forward and meets the floor with a loud thud.Shit.

“Gina,” Leonard calls out. “Is that you?”

I don’t answer, so he sticks his head out of the office door and we come face to face. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” I tell him, but it’s obvious I’ve been eavesdropping. His expression tells me everything I need to know. I am, for sure, getting fired. I know too much.

Chapter Nine

Journal Entry

Author Unknown

Martha Walton was a large woman. But not so large that she could withstand several pallets toppling her. It was such a shame, the “accident.” Especially so close to that young mother slipping in the shower and dying while her little boy watched television. Now, the whole town is in mourning. But life is death, and death is life. Especially for Leonard Walton. Though that’s none of my business, and all love is blind. That man must have been double-blind, but I digress.

Martha Walton had undoubtedly made many enemies over the years. This time she made the wrong one, and it cost her.

Chapter Ten

Gina

“Fired?” my father snarls. “What do you mean, fired? How could that bastard fireyou? Ofallpeople?”

“It’s fine,” I lie. “Now I get to spend more time around here.”

Mona has just finished tidying up the kitchen, and she doesn’t hide the fact that she’s listening. It’s Thursday, cleaning day, but mostly she helps with Daddy when I have to work. I can see her fidgeting; she is clearly nervous. No doubt she’s worried that my less than fortunate circumstances will mean that she will lose her job, too. I turn away from the rage in his eyes and look at her.

“It’s fine, really,” I say again, trying to sound convincing. “I have a little money saved.”

She looks relieved, and she turns back to the laundry. I watch as she picks up a T-shirt, shakes it out. She hums a tune that rattles like chains in my brain. Her long dark hair, pinned up in a silver clip, dances as her bosom gently sways to the beat of her song. I recognize the silver clip. Mama gave it to her for her birthday, a long time ago. I was a little girl, around seven or so. I remember it like it was yesterday. Mona looks up and smiles as though she can sense my thoughts drifting back to the past. She’s an attractive lady, Mona—or rather she was once, before time had its way with her.

I scan the bills she has left stacked neatly on the kitchen counter. The pile is taller than the last time I sorted it. It’s grown by a lot.

“I shoulda known you’d have a plan, Miss Gina,” Mona says. A late response, a knowing response. There’s a knowing edge to her voice that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “You never let your father down, do you?”

I’m preoccupied with the pile of late notices, so I answer flippantly.

“Well, I did break the screen door. He’s not very happy about that.”

She laughs, and the unease that filled the room before dissipates a little.

“Speaking of broken things… I guess you didn’t hear about Mr. Leonard’s wife?” she says with a smirk and half of a grin.

My head snaps up. “Martha?”

“What about her?” Daddy asks.

“She’s dead.”

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