Page 45 of Bound By Blood
Wiping her hands on the towel, Erryn went to the weathered wooden door as Nan approached. The old woman moved with a heavier stride than usual, her black triangular shawl wrapped tight about her shoulders despite the warmth of the golden autumn sunlight. Her dark-blue eyes were watery and red-rimmed.
"Nan?" Erryn pressed the door open farther. "Is everything all right? Do you want some tea? The water isn't hot, but I can put it on."
"No, no need, dearie. I can't stay long." She entered the cottage, moving with an uneven shuffle. She looked far older than she had the last time they had spoken, and the merriment wasn't present at all.
"What's going on?" Erryn hugged herself, her own unease intensifying.
Nan finally looked at her. Pronounced bags darkened the skin beneath her eyes as if she hadn't been sleeping. She tried to smile, but it faltered. "I'm so sorry. This isn't how I wanted it to be."
"Wanted what to be?" She stopped herself then, stiffening. Oh. "Ina's coming back? You need me to leave." A dull ache formed within her chest.
"It's not just Ina." Nan bit her tongue, then shook her head as she closed her eyes. "I don't know what's happened to my girls. But all of them—they've all taken leave of their senses. And they can't stay in the city any longer. So they're all coming home. All of them. And all at once. Not one or two at a time. I have to find some place to put them all. And my own house is nearly full with Marcus there with his knee done in and Teino after the fire. Auntie Plum needs more care than ever now."
"I see." Erryn hugged herself tighter as she cast a glance around the cottage.
"I thought it was just going to be Ina. But it's Ina, Seren, Lysa, Vira, Oriana, Rosa, Claudette, and Micha. All of them and the little ones. And Marcus can scarcely even walk." She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. "Poor choices were made, dearie. Very poor choices. They tried to hide it much as they could. Then Seren and Ina and Lysa tried to run. That just made it worse. Should have told us the truth from the beginning. They should have, but they didn't. And I am sorry. I am so sorry to do this to you. You don't have to leave if you can tolerate all these changes. You can stay through winter, but there'll be another six people staying here come tomorrow morning. I know that's not fair to you. That it's hard to live with one or two new people afoot, let alone five and a newborn. Maybe two more little ones as well."
Her stomach sank still further. There certainly wasn't room in here for all that. At least not easily.
Nan kept her head down. "I couldn't turn them out on the streets. It's just gone from bad to worse. Can't see how much worse can happen, short of death. Not that I'm asking for that, but I'm not turning you out either. My word to you stays. I'll bring in blankets and pillows and all the rest. We'll make it work, if you're willing. But I also won't force you to stay either. I don't think I'd be capable of staying with so many underfoot, but you're not me. Whatever you want to do, I will respect it. If you want to stay here for a day or three or a week or all the way to the start of spring, I won't refuse. If you want to leave at once, I won't refuse you that either. I'll put in a good word for you at the Broken Cauldron if you'd like to work there."
She nodded numbly. "And the soup business?"
"You don't worry about that, dearie. You think about what's best for you. The weather is good now for travel if you wanted to try for somewhere else. And if you need a wagon to take you someplace, we'll find a way for that. I'm just—I'm so sorry."
"No. It's fine. It was only for a season anyway," she said softly.
Maybe it was a sign. Everything changed. Even this. In the past, she'd talked so much about wanting to go out again and wander and go on adventures. Now that she faced it, she wanted to roll back the day and start over, skipping this part. But there was nothing to be done except accept it.
"Don't worry about me. I'm going to be all right." She forced a smile. "What do you need done to the cottage for their arrival?"
"If you can budge up your stuff so it won't take up as much space and they'll have room for their things, that'd help. But really, there's not much. Just take care of yourself and try not to think too harshly of us."
A whistle sounded from the cart.
Nan covered her eyes. "I'm sorry I don't have more time than this. There's just so much to do." She started toward the door. Tears glistened in her eyes and down her cheeks as she turned her face away.
Erryn followed, slower.
Loto sat in the wagon, his left leg heavily bandaged with colorful strips of cloth. He sat hunched with the reins loose in his hands, his heavy slate-blue coat bunched up. When he saw her, he gave a weary nod, his steely-grey eyes also duller now. "Sorry to do this to you, Erryn," he said. "We'll try to give you as much space as we can."
"I'll be fine. Neither of you worry about me." She gave her arm to Nan as Loto helped Nan up the rest of the way. "I'm sorry for whatever has happened."
Best not to ask for details. No one needed to know all that. She wouldn't want her grandmother telling everyone about her mistakes.
"Bad things happen." Nan situated her dark-burgundy skirts around herself as she sat in the coach box. "We all make mistakes. I'm glad they're coming home. We'll find some way to make it work."
"All we can do," Loto said. He adjusted his weathered brown hat and then sighed. "Take care now, Erryn. At least you'll get to meet the girls soon. Try not to judge them too harshly. Rough days for them lately and all."
He clicked his tongue as he moved the reins, and the grey mule started forward with an easy step.
No. She wasn't going to judge anyone harshly.
Forcing herself to smile, she waved at the old couple as they left. Whatever mess their grandchildren had gotten themselves into, all those two wanted was for their little family to be happy and healthy. Touching and tragic all at once.
The heaviness intensified as she watched them disappear down the path and toward the town. Despite the offer to let her remain, that wouldn't work. Not with Buttons and Ryul. There'd be too many questions. Too much drama. Too many problems. She'd have to find somewhere else.
She glanced up at the sky. Only a few hours more until dark. She covered her mouth. As if she and Ryul didn't already have enough to talk about.
