The Schemer

1647

I had barely laid the basket down and unpacked the jam jars before Mevrouw had started ringing the bell from the parlor. I sighed, clunking up the stairs before entering the room.
“Gather for me those cheeses and breads you brought from the market. I am feeling rather peckish. I do believe I am with child the way I am eating!” She said loudly, trying to get the attention of Meneer in the adjoining room.
No you’re not, My eyes pierced the space ahead of me, You’re simply fat.
Her tone enraged me. Everything about that woman grated at my being. She was a schemer through and through.
I soon returned with the trolley and a pretty platter of Leyden and Maasdam and light rye, setting it down on the table in front of her.
“Oh no!” she cried, “Oh no no no, did you not get any Gouda?”
“I thought you might like these cheeses,” I said in a sweet tone, hoping for Meneer to overhear the stupidity of this woman.
“No no no,” she cried once more, “This is not a farm yard. I am sure Heylwigis told you to always buy Gouda for me?”
I shook my head, “I will make a note of it for next time.”
“Next time,” she puffed, “Oh, and where is the Suikerbrood? Heylwigis knows it is my favorite.”
“She did not tell me,” I said bluntly.
“Do you hear this Meneer? Are you hearing this?!”
The floorboards creaked before Meneer appeared in the doorway. He strode in, his curls bouncing slightly as he walked.
“What is it now? Are you not happy with what the lovely…”
“Hendrickje,” I added with a small nod.
“Yes, the lovely Hendrickje has brought for you?”
“If I am to be with child, then I should think Hendrickje should bring me what is best for my condition.”
I hated it when she said my name.
“Well, I should think Leyden is the perfect cheese for you. And as for that Suikerbrood, well, if you are with child, then you should be having a more substantial bread.”
She huffed in her chair, lounging back in defeat. I smiled, fighting back the laughter that was stifled in my throat. I leaned forward to pour the steaming black tea into the teacups. As I did, I noticed Meneer‘s eyes on me. As I finished, I returned the gaze, looking up at him while sweeping away the lock of hair that fell in front of my eyes.
“Is that all Mevrouw?” I said sweet as honey, looking her straight in the eyes.
All she could do was wave me off, turning the rings around her pudgy fingers over and over again. She seemed tense, worried. I would be nervous too. A fat sow doesn‘t stay in the graces of the stable long before a cold winter.