A Mother In The Making. Gabrielle Meyer

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       Chapter Five

      John stalled the engine of his Model T and opened his door, grabbing his medical bag as he exited the vehicle. He kept his gaze on his home as he strode up the fieldstone path, through Anna’s dormant rose garden and onto the back stoop.

      No doubt Miss Maren would have the children seated at the dining table, awaiting his arrival. He had told her he would be home at six o’clock, and it was now ten minutes past the hour.

      His discussion with her would have to wait until after supper ended. The dining room, with four children listening, would not be the best place.

      He stomped the snow and mud off his shoes and pushed open the heavy oak door, shaking snowflakes from his hat and coat as he passed into the back hall.

      The aroma of pot roast and simmering root vegetables greeted him upon arrival. He paused for a moment to inhale a whiff of the delicious scents. If his nose didn’t deceive him, there would also be spiced cake for dessert. His favorite.

      John set his medical bag on the back hall table and then paused. A strange sound filled his ears. It was a combination of thumping and grinding, followed by...laughter. Children’s laughter—and Miss Maren’s.

      He took off his overcoat and set it on the hook next to his fedora.

      “I won,” called Lilly.

      “You didn’t beat me,” Charlie said. “I won, just like last time.”

      Lilly’s joyful laughter seeped through the door. “You’re a sore loser, Charlie. Don’t you like to be beat by a girl?”

      “Let’s go again.”

      How long had it been since he’d heard his children sound so carefree? He paused, reveling in the moment, and yet—it didn’t quite seem right to be so happy with Anna gone.

      “All right, children,” Miss Maren said. “On your mark, get set...go!”

      The same thumping resumed, this time coming closer to the back hall, and then moving farther away.

      What in the world?

      John opened the door and stopped short.

      Miss Maren stood near the front door in a filmy pink gown, her blond curls piled high on her head. Her cheeks were rosy red and her green eyes shone.

      She saw him standing in the doorway and grinned, the ever-present dimples gracing him with their appearance. “Hello, Dr. Orton.”

      Lilly and Charlie halted on their trek down the front hall in their roller skates and sheepishly turned to look his way.

      “Hello, Papa,” Lilly said with a squeak.

      Mrs. Gohl stood just inside the dining room, a smile on her face. The moment John looked at her, the smile dropped and she scurried off to the kitchen.

      “Miss Maren—” He couldn’t find the right words to convey his astonishment. What had she been thinking? The children had a nursery filled with toys—why were they scuffing up the front hall with their roller skates?

      “They should sleep well tonight,” Miss Maren said, a triumphant look on her face. She cocked a wry eyebrow. “I wish I could say the same for Laura.”

      “What is the meaning of this?” John finally demanded. “Why are my children riding roller skates in the house?”

      Miss Maren looked toward the window and waved her hand. “Because it’s snowing outside.”

      “I know it’s snowing outside—but what does that have to do with my children roller-skating inside?”

      “Surely you wouldn’t want them roller skating outside right now, would you?”

      He crossed his arms. “I don’t see why they need to roller-skate at all.”

      Her expression became perplexed. “Because they’re required to spend an hour in physical activity every day, and they chose roller-skating.”

      Charlie and Lilly hadn’t moved a muscle as they stared at John, and he recalled his earlier decision about reprimanding Miss Maren in private. “Children, take off your roller skates and prepare for supper.”

      “Are we in trouble?” Charlie asked.

      They knew better, even if Miss Maren did not. “Yes—”

      “No,” said Miss Maren.

      Lilly and Charlie looked at one another, their own confusion evident in their tilted eyebrows. Anna had never contradicted John in front of the children.

      Never.

      John looked at the governess, his voice as even as he could manage. “Please join me in my office.”