Pearl slid off Pie and pulled him into the stall. “Honey, I’m sorry I’m late. I forgot the time. You’re soaked. Let’s get you upstairs.”
She took off Pie’s saddle and harness and quickly inspected his coat and hooves, then grabbed a bag she’d set down and we trudged up the stairs. Before I stepped inside the cab, I shook the rain off my coat and raked my boots across the metal landing.
Pearl lit the woodstove and dug through her chifforobe for dry clothes for me. “Wear these till I can get yours dry. It’s Mother’s favorite gown,” she said quietly, handing me it along with a pair of socks.
“Obliged. It’ll be nice to get warm,” I said, a little edgier than I meant to, slipping behind her dressing screen to toss off my coat and damp clothes.
“Looks like the rain’s stopping,” Pearl said, relieved. “I can see bright skies off to the west.”
When I was dressed, I carried my wet clothing over to the stove. Pearl unfolded a wooden quilt rack in front of it. “There, they’ll be dry in no time.”
She took my coat and stared at the heap of clothing I was holding and laughed. “Who wears pajamas under their clothes to a party?”
Tired, cold, and miserable and a whole lot miffed at waiting in the rain, I lashed back. “Me. I wear pajamas to a party that’s called a pajama party. Because I’ve never been before, and my sophisticated friend didn’t tell the hill mouse what to wear, nor advised she’d be shivering out in the cold waiting on a party that she’d forgotten.”
“Honey, don’t be such a pill—”
“Pill? Are you calling me difficult?” Everything was building up inside. The loss of my folk and dear Retta, the fear of sneaking around, and Gillis coming at me. And I struggled to tamp it all down.
Pearl shrugged and went to hang up my coat. “Someone’s being difficult.”
I dropped my stack of clothes and picked up my wet pants, stuffing my legs into them. “This difficult girl”—I grabbed my shirt—“showed up in time. I’ve lost so much, but you’ll not poke fun at me and take my dignity, Pearl Grant, and then act hoity-toity—” I stopped, choked back the words that would wound and forever scar. Raw silence batted between us. “I should leave.”
For a moment, the stillness was crushing in the small cab. Then Pearl burst into tears.
Feeling small, I wanted to cry, too, but the tears belonged to Pearl, and I had not earned that right; I’d caused them. “I’m sorry, but—” I said, meaning it and wishing I hadn’t spoken, knowing better to harness any excuse, and that adding the last word would only diminish the apology. “Forgive me. I’m really sorry, Pearl. Please don’t cry.”
“Honey.” She sniffed and wagged her head. “It’s not that. It’s Perry Gillis. I went to the store to get eggs for our breakfast. I ran into Perry in the back parking lot and told him I couldn’t see him. He got hot about that and knocked the eggs out of my hands.” She wiped her eyes and sighed heavily. Reaching for the gown, she held it out to me. “I’m sorry I made you wait. It was thoughtless.”
I gasped at the mention of him. “He’s dangerous—”
“You’re right. He grabbed my arm and started calling me awful names. Finally, Francis and Eddie ran him off.” She pulled up her sleeve and rubbed a reddened arm. “I saw it for myself.”
I took the gown. “Are you okay? We should put ice on that.”
“It’s just bruised from him twisting it.” She dismissed it with a shake of her head, then inspected her charms closely. “A few days ago, I stopped by Perry’s home. The boy was out in the yard alone riding his trike. He came over to me, crying, but I couldn’t understand him. Ida ran out the door and snatched him up. She said Perry wasn’t home, that he was working a double shift. That was it. She was gone before I could answer.”