Rosemary Thorne's Arc

Chapter 21 of 24

Rosemary sat at the kitchen table Thursday night with three scraps of paper in front of her. Bread from Mabel. Cider from the carter. Cream from the gnome. She had written each promise in a hurry, on whatever she had, and now the ink smudged where her sleeve had passed. She smoothed them flat and read them again. The dates did not agree. The amounts did not agree. She had promised Mabel apples in autumn and honey when the hive took, but she had also promised the carter apples for cider. She could not give the same apples twice. Damien came in from the yard with wood shavings on his shirt. He set the axe by the door and watched her a moment. He pulled out the chair opposite and sat. "Show me," he said. She pushed the papers across. He read slowly, one finger under each line. His jaw tightened at the second sheet. "You've sold this year's apples to two people." "I know." "And the cream to the gnome runs two years. You'll have nothing left for the house." "I know." He set the papers down. "Fix it now. Before Sunday. If Mabel finds out you shorted her she'll pull the gazebo before the banns dry." Rosemary took a clean sheet from the shelf. She ruled it into four columns with the back of a knife: who, what, when, against. She copied every promise she could remember. The half-pendant to the gnome. The extra cream for a year for bringing Mabel. Two more years of cream for the letter south. Bread at cost from Mabel against garden goods. The gazebo against future trade. Cider from the carter against wages owed to his man. The dress from Elara against nothing. She wrote that last line and stopped. "The dress is a gift," Damien said. "Leave it." "I owe her a kindness back." "Write it in a different column, then." She added a fifth column: owed in kind. She listed Elara there. When the sheet was full she counted. The apples were the only real conflict. She crossed the carter's line and wrote pears instead. The tree by the fence would carry. It would not carry much, but it would carry enough for one man's cider. She walked to the village before dawn. The bakery light was already on. Mabel was banking the oven. Rosemary put the sheet on the counter. "Read it," she said. "If any of it is wrong, tell me now." Mabel wiped her hands and read. She read it twice. She took a pencil from behind her ear and made one mark against the honey line. "Half of what you promise here," she said. "Your hive won't carry the rest." "Half, then." Mabel signed under her own name. Rosemary signed under hers. The paper went into Mabel's apron pocket. "Now you have a ledger," Mabel said. "Keep it where he can find it if you die." Rosemary walked home with an empty satchel and a clear head.