The Problem Child (Emerson Pass Historicals 4) - Page 28

“I try to get her to eat too,” Delphia said, sounding older than her eight years. “It’s no use.”

We’d all noticed how she picked at her food or pushed it around her plate to make it seem as if she’d eaten more than she had. I’d thought she needed more exercise. She was always curled up with a book, even when we were down at the creek in the summer for a swim. The rest of the Barnes family ate with gusto, but we were active. Maybe that’s all she needed? But without energy to do so it was a vicious circle.

“She needs more outside time.” I didn’t know if it were true but I wanted it to be. “More fresh air.”

“I wish it were that simple,” Theo said. “Or that I had better answers for us.”

He had told me many times that there were still many things we didn’t understand when it came to human health.

Theo stood and wandered over to the fireplace, warming his hands above the flames. “I’m bewildered. She won’t talk to me, either. I feel there’s more to this than she’s telling me, but she buries her head when I ask questions.” He turned slowly to face Mama. “But I’ll not give up until I figure out what’s wrong with her.”

“You don’t think it’s an emotional reason?” Mama asked in a small voice. “A reason why she won’t eat?”

“Like what?” I asked. “What would make a person not want to eat?” I couldn’t fathom one idea.

“Sadness,” Theo said. A shadow crossed his face. “Like our mother.”

“No, that can’t be it,” I said. “She has nothing to be sad over.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t matter,” Theo said. “Brains are complex.”

Furious at the idea of madness touching our Addie, I shook my head with such violence that it felt as if my brain were full of glass balls smashing into one another. “She’s not sad.”

“She is,” Delphia said. “I hear her crying sometimes at night.”

“What?” Mama turned to her, obviously astounded by this information. “Often?” Her tone sharpened as she fixed her gaze on my little sister.

Delphia folded over herself, as if she wanted to shrink and disappear. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

I put my arm around her and held her tightly. “It’s all right. You don’t have to remember exactly.”

“I don’t want Addie to know I know,” Delphia said. “She would be mad at me.”

Mama took in a deep breath and stood. “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to sound sharp.”

“You’re not mad at me?” Delphia asked.

“No, absolutely not,” Mama said. “Why would I be?”

“Because she’s sick instead of me,” Delphia said. “I’m naughty, so it should be me.”

Mama strode over to the window seat and knelt on the floor next to Delphia. “I don’t want either one of you to be sick. And you’re not naughty, darling.”

“I’m not?” Delphia’s big blue eye filled with tears.

“You’re spirited and full of life,” Mama said. “I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

Delphia took in a shaky breath and thrust herself into Mama’s arms.

Mama kissed the top of her head. “Do you want to go down and see if Lizzie has something for you to eat?”

“Yes, Mama.” Delphia loosened her grip around Mama’s neck, and together they stood.

“Off you go,” Mama said, patting the small of Delphia’s back.

Once my little sister was gone, Theo gestured for us to come closer. Mama and I sat together on the couch.

“There’s something I need to tell you that I didn’t want the little one to hear,” Theo said. “Addie’s stomach is distended. She’s starving…quite possibly to death.”

“Is it really that bad?” I asked as panic dried the inside of my mouth. To death. How could this be? If she didn’t start eating, we would lose her.

He turned to me. “Cym, I think you should try to talk to her.”

“Me?” I asked.

“He’s right, Cym,” Mama said. “She might tell you things she wouldn’t tell me or Papa.”

“I’ll try,” I said, inwardly wincing at the pinched look around Mama’s mouth. I hadn’t seen her like this since my brothers were away at war. Were we about to begin a war of our own? One in which we raced against time to save my sister? “I’ll do my very best to understand what’s behind this.” Even as I said the words, I knew in my heart I was inadequate for the task. But try I would.

Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical
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