Coal River by Ellen Marie Wiseman Read Free Book Online Page B

let’s talk about something else. I’m not going to sit here listening to my wife and excuse-for-a-son tell me about hard work. I’m the only one in this family who understands hard work!”
    Aunt Ida swallowed, her face growing crimson. She put her hands on the tablecloth on either side of her plate, taking slow, deep breaths. After a minute, she cleared her throat and looked at Emma.
    “Perhaps you can work around the house a few days a week,” she said. “Then help Percy at the store on the other days. And it only makes sense that your paycheck goes into the household funds. You have to earn your room and board, just like Percy does.”
    Emma’s heart dropped. “Yes, ma’am,” she said.
    “Does that seem fair to you, dear?” Aunt Ida asked her husband.
    Uncle Otis bit into a buttered tea roll and wagged a finger at Percy. “You let Emma run the cash register while you unload and put up stock,” he said. “It won’t kill you to do the heavy lifting.”
    “Have you ever run a register, Emma?” Aunt Ida said.
    “Just the one in the box office,” she said. “But I’m a quick learner. And I can help stock shelves. I’m not afraid of hard work.” If nothing else, at least working in the store would get her out of the house.
    “That’s good, darlin’,” Aunt Ida said.
    Uncle Otis snorted. “Maybe if your father hadn’t been afraid of hard work, your parents would still be alive.”
    Emma went rigid, breaking out in an instant sweat.
    “Not now, dear,” Aunt Ida said. “My nerves are already fixing to give out.”
    “Just think,” Uncle Otis said. “If Emma’s father had taken me up on my offer to work in the mines, they wouldn’t have died in that fire. They could be sitting here right now, having dinner with us.”
    “Please,” Aunt Ida said. “What’s done is done, and there’s no going back. We did our best to get them to stay in Coal River. They made their own choices. And now we’re all left behind to . . .” She lowered her head, pushing her napkin into the corners of her eyes.
    Emma held Uncle Otis’s gaze. “My father was a hard worker,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even. “And so was my mother. They were artists, painting scenes and making costumes for the theater. They loved their jobs, and they were putting every spare penny into my education. They wanted to live in Manhattan because there were more opportunities. . . .” Her throat closed and she dropped her eyes, blinking back tears. Then she swallowed and found her voice again. “Just because my father didn’t want to spend his life in a hole in the ground making someone else rich, doesn’t make him lazy. If anything, it makes him smart.”
    Uncle Otis’s mouth fell open, anger darkening his brow.
    “I’m sure that’s not what your uncle meant,” Aunt Ida said quickly. “It’s just . . . well . . . it always seemed like what we had to offer was never good enough, even though we had more than your parents ever dreamed of. And now. Let’s just say we must all remember to bow down before the Lord and be grateful for what we’ve been blessed with instead of looking elsewhere for satisfaction. Otherwise . . .” Aunt Ida shook her head.
    Emma pushed back her chair and stood. “May I be excused?” she said. “I’m not feeling well.”
    “What is it?” Aunt Ida said. “You’re not taking sick, are you?”
    Percy leaned away from Emma, his napkin over his nose and mouth. “She did just come out of a hospital,” he said. “You don’t suppose you caught something, do you?”
    Emma shook her head. “No,” she said. “It’s nothing like that. It’s probably just the heat. Or maybe it’s the small-minded people in this room.” She wrapped her arms around herself and headed toward the door. Behind her, Aunt Ida started crying.
    “I told you it wasn’t a good idea to bring her here,” Uncle Otis said. His tone was withering, and there was no doubt it was directed at Emma. She walked out,