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I smile at the irony. “No, I guess not.”
She looks down, noticing my half-empty bowl. “Oh, how rude of me. Would you care for more?”
“No, thank you. I couldn’t eat another bite. It was delicious.”
“You know, I’m still finding items that were hidden around the house,” she adds as she stands.
“Items? What kind of items?”
Francis shrugs. “You know. Journals, pictures, books…those kinds of things.”
“Have you found anything from Captain Rex?”
She shakes her head. “No, can’t say that I have. That would be interesting, though.” I wait at my table, strategically moving the remaining food in my bowl around, and wait for the rest of the guests to leave. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long. As soon as the last couple exits the room, I help Ms. Francis pick up the dishes.
“You don’t need to help me, dear. I can do it.”
“I don’t mind. I could use the company.”
“Aye, me, too.” She laughs.
Over the years, I’ve met hundreds, even thousands of humans. In that number, I can count on one hand how many of them I’ve felt comfortable around. Ms. Francis is one of them. Her energy offers peace for a reason I can’t explain.
“If you don’t mind, after we clean up from dinner, I thought maybe you could give me some history on some of the photographs and drawings.”
“I’d like that,” she answers.
Returning the dining room to its original splendor doesn't take long. Heading into the kitchen, I find her washing dishes in the sink by hand. I move to her side, taking over the position of drying.
“How long have you lived here?” I ask.
“Near about eighty years. I was born in that dining room you just ate in.”
“Really?”
She sets a wet plate on the counter. “Mama alwayssaid the Hawthornes weren’t very patient. I wouldn’t wait until she got to the hospital and made an appearance early.”
“You never changed your name?”
“No,” she answers, picking the wet plate back up. “Never found anyone I was interested in. Back in my time if you didn’t marry a man, you were thrown in a mental institution.”
I turn, facing the elderly woman. “You didn’t want to marry a man?”
She huffs. “No. Why would anyone want that?” Her eyes take on a faraway look. “I was in love once. It didn’t work out.”
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know why I’m apologizing.
“Me, too.”
“Who will take over the house when you…”
Ms. Francis laughs. “You can say it. When I die? I’m old, but I’m not stupid. I won’t be around forever.” She sighs before continuing. “I don’t have any direct descendants to pass it down to. There are a few distant nieces and nephews, but no one seems interested. I reckon when I’m gone, so will Hawthorne Mansion.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. What if I could help?”
“Help? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re barely out of diapers. The upkeep is astronomical.”
“Maybe I can find someone. Would you mind if I work on it?”
