“Yep.” Bob added, tucking the ball under his arm. “We’ve been through this before. We’ll show you how to give him a bath.”
Aware that they had an audience and deciding not to lose her temper in front of the children, Margaret led everyone back to the house which was, thankfully, across the street so Charles didn’t get too messy. She could feel the women’s disapproving eyes bearing into her back.
Even as her face flushed red with anger, she felt tears sting her eyes. But she refused to let them see how their words affected her. One thing she knew was that it was a mistake to let anyone know how much they could hurt her because then they’d know her weakness. If Debra Potter knew her weakness, she would undoubtedly use that to her advantage in the future. And if there was one thing she wouldn’t give Debra Potter, it was more ammunition for her attacks.
Once she got the boys into the house, she opted to close the door quietly, even though she wanted to slam it in frustration. As great as the temptation was to look back and through the window to see if they were still watching, she didn’t. Nor would the children give her time to. While Doug ran to retrieve the tub, Charles bent down and touched his wet pants. Well, it was time to get to work.
She made a mental note to never give Charles cow milk again.
Chapter Ten
Margaret wiped the sweat from her brow as she bathed Charles. Charles giggled, filled the cup with water, and dumped it on his head. This sent him into another round of giggles before he filled the cup again. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned from the metal tub set to the side of the kitchen.
“Doug, can you hand me that towel?” she called out.
She went to the other tub and added more soap to the hot water before she scrubbed Charles’ pants on the washboard.
Doug dutifully came over to her with the towel in his hands.
She motioned for him to give the towel to Charles when Bob came running into the room. “Ben’s on the work table!”
A glance over her shoulder showed her that, sure enough, Ben had dragged a chair across the floor and was standing up on the table. Without a thought, she dropped the pants and rushed to get Ben down, but it was too late. He’d already reached up on a nearby shelf and pulled down the canister of sugar. As she pulled it out of his arms, the lid popped off and some of the brown sugar settled to the table and floor. Before Ben could bend down to lick it off the table, she put the canister down, picked him up and placed him in the highchair.
“Doug, how do I get this tray in?” she asked.
She struggled to make the thing fit, even as Ben squirmed out of his seat. She grunted and set him back down just in time for Doug to reach her and latch the tray into place. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves. Alright. She’d get Charles out of the bath and dressed. Then she’d tackle the sugar.
“Uh...Ma?” Bob placed Charles’ new clothes on the kitchen table.
“What?” She spun around in time to see Bob pointing to Charles who was dumping cupfuls of water out of the tub. “Charles! Stop!”
She avoided the sugar-coated floor and hastened to the happy boy.
“Here’s the towel, Ma.” Doug shoved it in her face as she took the cup from Charles.
She stared at the towel and tried to decide what to do first. Did she take care of Charles or the large puddle on the floor? Everything was happening so fast. If everything would just stop for one moment, she could figure out how to best do what and in what order.
“Get more towels for Ma,” Doug told Bob.
Bob bounded out of the room, and before she could warn him to avoid the sugar, he jumped over the spot. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least one thing was going right! The last thing she needed was to track sugar through the house. She took the towel and mopped up the floor as best as she could. Then when Bob returned, once again jumping over the sugar, she got Charles out of the tub and dried him off.
Someone knocked on the front door and she groaned. Of all times, why did someone have to stop by now?
“I’ll get it, Ma!” Doug bounded out of the kitchen.
She wiped the sweat from her face with the towel and threw it down so she could put a clean diaper on Charles. Granted, the kitchen table probably wasn’t the best place to do this, but the floor was still damp.
Bob shook his head. “You pinned it in wrong. It should go the other way.”
Sighing, she removed the safety pin and turned it over so she could insert it through the cloth. Sure enough, the hold was more secure. She picked up the other safety pin and got ready to put it into the other piece of the cloth at Charles’ hip when a man and woman entered the kitchen.
“They said they have some pots you will want to buy,” Doug said, following them.