Soldier at the Door(31)

But she couldn’t figure it out. When was the right time to go to the market when both children were never content at the same time? When Peto was happy with a full belly, Jaytsy was growing fussy and wanted a nap. When Peto was ready for a nap, Jaytsy was waking up and ready to go for a walk or a ride in the small wagon her father made.

Mahrree could never get the timing right, and she tried a different time every week. Once both children were happy at the same time, but then two days later at the same time of day they were both wailing at the top of their lungs while she tried to haggle over the price of carrots. She was ready to shove one into each crying mouth to see if that would quiet them until she finished at the butcher’s.

Today she tried going to the market right before Peto’s nap time, hoping he’d be lulled to sleep as Mahrree walked, but once again her plan failed. He was grumpier than ever, and now, moments ago, Jaytsy learned to throw.

Mahrree was gathering the last of the rolling potatoes when she looked up to see Jaytsy holding a small red projectile in each chubby fist. She cocked her right arm and let fly another potato.

“No!” Mahrree moaned, but Jaytsy beamed proudly. Mahrree watched as the little potato flew in the opposite direction and landed in the hand of someone wearing a blue uniform.

“That’s a great arm!” the catcher said encouragingly. “Try the other one now.”

Mahrree’s mouth dropped open as Jaytsy smiled at the stranger and threw her other potato. Its trajectory wasn’t as impressive, but the young soldier stepped up quickly and caught it before it hit the ground.

“She must be right-armed,” he chuckled.

Mahrree still didn’t know how to respond to this soldier encouraging her daughter to throw food.

“Any more potatoes for me?” he grinned at Jaytsy. She began to look around the wagon, but Mahrree already had the rest in her cotton bag. “Then I’ll give these to your mother,” he said, walking over to Mahrree.

“Uh, thank you,” she said, surprised as she opened the bag to let him drop in the potatoes. The soldier didn’t even seem to notice Peto’s wailing.

“Any time, ma’am,” he tipped his cap. “I’m rather an expert at cleaning up thrown food messes. Was a bit of a rambunctious child myself. You’re Mrs. Shin, aren’t you?”

“Uh, yes—yes I am.” She evaluated the handsome face that smiled at her. His light brown hair was nearly the same color as hers, and he had big happy sky-blue eyes. Mahrree wondered how old he might be. His looks seemed too boyish to be a soldier, yet his build was surprisingly large and strong. Not as big as Perrin, but then again, no one was as big as Perrin.

He tipped his cap again. “I’m Private Shem Zenos, ma’am. Just signed up officially with your husband earlier this week.”

Mahrree smiled. “That’s right!” She lowered her voice, although it wasn’t necessary because no one in the market around them would have heard her over Peto’s continued crying. “You were volunteering for him before. You’re the one who’s spoken to the Guarder!”

Zenos was surprised. “Uh, yes, ma’am.” He leaned in closer to her. “I didn’t realize you knew about that.”

Mahrree shrugged. “I’m probably not like the typical officer’s wife, and I’m very intrigued about Guarders.”

Zenos looked around quickly, clearly uncomfortable to be discussing Guarders in the market. “How about I help you get home, ma’am? I can pull your daughter in the wagon while you calm down your son.”

Mahrree was tempted. As much as she wanted him to walk her home so she could ask him some questions, it was far beyond his responsibility as a soldier. “I appreciate that, but it’s not fair of me to ask that of you.”

Zenos grinned, and it was almost dazzling. “You didn’t ask it—I offered it!” He bent down and picked up the tongue of the miniature wagon, then took the bag of potatoes out of her hand. Before Mahrree could protest he started pulling Jaytsy along.

“But Private—”

“But nothing!” he smiled back to her. “I insist on helping you home.”

“But you’re doing a terrible job of it,” she told him. “I don’t live east, I live north!”

The private stopped suddenly, blushed, and gestured for her to lead the way.

Mahrree chuckled and pointed in the correct direction. She took Peto out of the sling and tried holding him in another position. He arched his back uncooperatively.

The private winced in sympathy as he walked alongside, pulling the wagon. “He looks hungry.”