Charlotte Stewart: A Fictional Narrative

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Charlotte Stewart was pacing inside the store, looking out the open doorway. Jeanne looked around, but there was no sign of the man who woke her. “Good afternoon, Mizz Charlotte. I’m sorry, I’d laid down for a minute with the baby, and I guess I fell asleep.” Charlotte stared at her, then kept pacing. “I have to talk to someone, you’re the only one who might understand. We’re about the same age aren’t we? We’re both from the north, and really that is much more than I have in common with anyone else around here.” Jeanne looked around again. This was the second time they had exchanged words. Charlotte had called on her that first day of school, now weeks later, she was back. Really, Jeanne had no idea the woman had even noticed her before. “We…show more content…
“Be quick, no sense taking a chill in the night air. Things will keep ‘till mornin’.” “I’d rather start the day with everything clean. Mizz Charlotte’s little cabin was wonderful, especially the inside sink and cook stove.” “Dovie Watkins’ doing. Cook stove didn’t cost much more than this big wood stove, but don’t heat the space nigh as well. Heard tell, she don’t even know how to cook,” he took out the fixings and lit his pipe. Jeanne bit her tongue to keep from fishing for a compliment. He had never indicated whether her cooking was good or bad, but he did eat a lot of it. She wanted to tell him more, to say, ‘It’s too cold in the store room for the baby. May I bring my bedding out here by the fire and sleep on the floor tonight?’ But she had decided on the cold walk home to do it after he went to sleep. Why should she have to ask permission to protect her son.” <><><> When she came back inside with the clean things, she set them on the counter from the back, quickly dried each piece and put them away. She worked quietly, so as not to disturb the sleeping man holding the child. When she walked over to take the boy, she was surprised to feel another pang of regret. She stared from the baby’s face to the man’s, noticing the smile lingering on
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