Hiding in Plain Sight

Claudia Merrill

by Claudia Merrill

Story
Amsterdam 1648

1648

The weather had taken a turn for the worse. Heylwigis and I were bundled inside the kitchen with the fire stoked high. Winds blew through the street at a terrible rate, rattling the windows and causing us all to catch our breath in fright.
I trotted upstairs to the dining room and parlor to collect errant dishes for washing when the sounds of stomping and slamming rattled down the stairway. Curiosity got the better of me.
I walked carefully up the stairs and pressed my ear to the door of the studio and Meneer‘s bed chamber.
“…painting that minx all day, like you used to paint me!”
I heard a mighty clunk followed by a shattering sound. I flinched. My heart raced. I almost pushed myself away from the door, but then, Meneer spoke.
“Geertje… you‘re making a scene,” he pleaded with her.
“You haven‘t been to my chambers in months,” she cried in exasperation.
The room fell quiet. I could only reflect on my own actions and what could have brought this disharmony between them. Surely Mevrouw did not intend to blame me for Meneer drifting apart from her? If he has grown tired of her company and attitude, then how was I to blame? I took a breath as Mevrouw spoke again.
“Have you been with her?” 
Another pause.
“Of course not,” he said brashly.
“You‘re lying,” she screamed.
I heard another crash and clank as a vase or teapot was thrown to the ground. Shattered fragments that I would no doubt have to tidy up later. Then, I heard another sound. A shuffle on the floorboards that came from above my head. I pulled myself away from eavesdropping and followed the sound up the stairs. With careful feet, I walked up the stairs and paused until I heard the sound again, followed by soft sobs.
Under a table in the middle of the hallway was a small Titus. I crouched down to see his head on his knees and a mop of brown hair. He noticed me there, looking up at me with red tear-stained eyes.
I grimaced, opening my arms. Without a moment passing, he lunged into me and sobbed.
“Come on,” I said, scooping him up like an injured squirrel, “Let‘s get you to bed, it‘s late.”

© Claudia Merrill 2024-06-11

Genres
Novels & Stories
Moods
Dark, Emotional, Sad
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