Walking a Fine Line: Day 1

Word Count: 6,016

Summary of Events:

Arriving home after another day of work, Joseph's time before supper was served ended up being occupied by his youngest sister, who reported to him that the older of his younger brothers had taken one of her dolls, which he learned from his youngest brother had been put in the tree in the backyard, from whence he managed to fetch it. Over supper, Joseph's oldest sister still at home was asked by his mother what she was up to the following day, with both her and Joseph being perplexed when the oldest of his younger sisters volunteered to go get the meat from the butcher with an unusual eagerness…

Excerpt of the Day:

Brighid looked sceptical, and Joseph had to admit that he was of the same sentiment.

“It isn’t as if I don’t have other errands to run tomorrow,” Brighid said. “I can get the chicken just fine.”

“Oh, but I really want to,” Theresa said.

“Why?” Joseph asked, raising his eyebrows and drawing them together in a dubious expression.

Theresa looked at him for a moment, her countenance quickly displaying shyness before she turned away, a flush coming over her cheeks.

“Yes, that is a good question,” Brighid said. “Why?”
Keeping her head down but raising her gaze to look at Brighid, Theresa still looked shy and girlish.

“When you sent me to the butcher last time I met his assistant,” Theresa replied.

“And?” Brighid asked.

“Well…” Theresa replied. “He’s… handsome.”

“Oh,” Brighid said tersely.

Joseph set his jaw, not so much in irritation as in worry. He could feel his appetite fleeing like a flock of startled pigeons. He forced himself to look at the half-full plate of food before him.

“Well then I am definitely going to get the chicken tomorrow,” Brighid said.

“Why?” Theresa protested with a tone of childish displeasure.

“Because you’ll definitely be late for school if you go there to goggle at Mr. Fannon’s assistant,” Brighid replied.

“I won’t,” Theresa replied with a hint of soft indignation. “I just want to be able to say hello to him.”

“Hello is always the beginning of a conversation,” Brighid sniffed.

It took conscious effort for Joseph to take up his utensils and force the rest of the food on his plate into his mouth, as he didn’t need to get lit into by Brighid and Ma for not cleaning his plate — besides, they would probably suspect there was something wrong with him if he were to leave food behind, and he didn’t want them to know that for sure.

Brighid continued detailing to Ma what else she had to do during the rest of the day as Joseph shoved the remainder of the meal into his mouth dutifully until his plate was appropriately clean.

He set his utensils down on the plate, followed by his glass once he’d drained the water out of it. Leaning back in his chair, he stared somewhat numbly forward at the roasting pan in which there was nothing but a few little morsels of meat left, which was no surprise, considering there were nine people about the table who’d partaken of the meal.

It wasn’t as if it was wrong for Theresa to have a boy she thought handsome, she was going to be eighteen two days less than a month after his birthday, and when school let out for the year she would be finished with that too, so it was only fair for her to start looking for a future husband, but Joseph couldn’t help feeling unsettled.

Theresa was, to all intents and purposes, his best friend. The idea of someone interfering with the bond they shared wasn’t something he was eager for, especially considering he wouldn’t be able to have someone for himself probably for at least another five to ten years.

Pronunciation:

Brighid: breed