Read The Village by the Sea for Free Online Page B

from the living room.
    Emma had never heard of any Connecticut estate. Those grandparents had always seemed far away from her, buried in time, like people she might read about in a history book. The way Aunt Bea had spoken made her feel she was to blame for some mysterious trouble that had occurred years before she was born.
    â€œYou’re a helpful girl,” commented Uncle Crispin.
    She wanted to ask him about that trouble. Aunt Bea had been smoldering so, banging her plate, slapping down the cards. “I don’t think Mom and Daddy have a lot of money,” she said. “I never heard about the estate.”
    Uncle Crispin sighed. “It’s all ancient history,” he said. “I think the place was sold for taxes years ago. I know your father had to work hard to stay in music school. I’m afraid your Aunt Bea broods about the past too much.”
    Emma leaned against the counter, watching him scour out the sink. She felt a hard lump in he jeans’ pocket. She reached in and took out the plastic deer.
    â€œLook what I found in the bathroom,” she said, holding it up to him. “It’s only plastic but it’s pretty, isn’t it?”
    Uncle Crispin dropped the sponge he had been using and snatched the deer from her hand to look at it closely.
    â€œWhere was it?” he demanded. He stared at the deer as though it were a biting insect.
    â€œUnder the sink, in a dust ball,” she answered uneasily.
    He dropped it in his shirt pocket. Without another word, he put away the scouring powder and sponge.
    Emma went to the living room and stood uncertainly for a moment next to the fireplace.
    Aunt Bea patted a cushion on the little sofa. “Come sit with me and watch this movie,” she said, smiling at Emma. “It’s a good one. I’ve seen it three times. You see that little boy? You can tell he’s lower class by his cheap suit. Look at that ridiculous suit! But he’s adorable, isn’t he? And he’s going to get into all kinds of trouble, carrying messages between that man and woman who are in love.”
    Emma, astonished by this outburst, sat down. Aunt Bea suddenly put her arm around her and giggled. “We’ll be all cozy here and watch together, shall we? Now … ssh!”
    Uncle Crispin came into the room and went to the long table where he sat down and began to look through a sheaf of music. He sat stiffly as though he were balancing an object on his head. When Aunt Bea withdrew her arm, Emma was relieved. It had begun to feel like a log on her back.
    â€œDon’t you want to see the wonderful English countryside in the movie, Crispin?” Aunt Bea called out gaily.
    â€œI have seen it,” Uncle Crispin replied curtly.
    Emma glanced at her aunt, who had made a little moaning sound like a puppy. She was staring at her husband’s stiff back, looking as baffled as Emma felt. She doesn’t get her way all the time, Emma thought to herself.
    She turned her attention to the movie. The little boy who carried messages for the man and woman who loved each other didn’t understand what was going on between them, any more than Emma understood why Uncle Crispin had grown so distant since he had taken the deer from her hands, or why Aunt Bea was acting so fondly toward her.
    â€œDon’t you hate commercial ads?” Aunt Bea asked during a break in the movie. “Everybody seems so stupid—talking in those horribly cheery voices!”
    Emma hadn’t given much thought to the people who tried to sell you things during commercials. You waited until they were over. But her aunt’s friendliness encouraged her to ask a question. “You said there was a girl next door? The one who’s so good at watercolors? Is she here yet?”
    â€œOh—that girl. The grandmother is an old busybody; she used to drop in, uninvited, but I put a stop to that. What is that girl’s name, Crispin? Ontario?