A few days later
Charles sat on the edge of the bed, ashamed of the wave of dizziness that nearly overtook him. He held himself steady for several moments and the dizziness subsided enough that he was willing to risk standing. He pushed himself up and held onto the bedside table to steady himself while he waited for another wave of nauseating dizziness to subside, knocking a book off the table in the process. Fighting the urge to lie back down, he reminded himself that Elsie would be back with Gracie soon. He wanted to surprise both his girls by being clean and upright.
He heard a sound from the doorway and opened his eyes to see William and Alfred there studying him carefully.
"Still not quite steady, lads," he said gruffly, "But I need to be up for the girls." He coughed and gripped the table harder while wrapping an arm around his chest in an effort to minimize the pain.
Both boys were by his side in an instant. William spoke, "You should stay put, Mr. Carson. It's more than we're worth if Mrs. Carson comes back to find you worse."
He lifted his chin and gripped the boy's shoulder tightly. "I want to look as though I'm getting well." They looked at him doubtfully so he swallowed his pride and added, "Please help me."
William nodded shortly and Alfred quickly stepped into the kitchen to bring back a chair.
"Sit here, sir," he said, "and we'll fetch what you need."
Charles smiled. He supposed it would have to do. "First, bring me a cloth and some water so that I can wash. Then, I'll need to shave."
After he had managed to sponge himself off, he looked to his shaving things. They stood by watching him for any sign of needing assistance. Charles held out his hand and was dismayed by the tremor, not quite sure if he was willing to risk his nose for smooth cheeks.
William interrupted his thoughts, "I could shave you sir."
Charles's eyes took in the faint fuzz on the boy's upper lip with amusement. "Have you ever shaved before?"
"No sir, but I'm willing to learn."
Charles took a moment to wonder if he would rather take his chances with trembling hands versus novice ones. Then, he saw William's earnest eyes. Hadn't he chosen to take on the role of teaching the lads?
"Very well," he said, "wet the soap first. Just a few drops, mind. Then work up a lather with the brush."
William followed his instructions eagerly and was soon applying the shaving soap generously to Charles's cheeks. Alfred watched with interest, taking in every instruction.
"Now, strop the razor to smooth the burrs."
William took the razor awkwardly in his hand, so Charles took it from him to adjust his grip. The boy held it better now, but still stiffly. Putting his hand over William's, he guided him in stropping the razor. "Lay your finger along the back of the blade. Like this." William caught on quickly enough and his grip relaxed.
Once the razor was smooth, Charles could delay the inevitable no longer. He hid his nervousness as best he could and said, "I always like to do the cheeks first. Hold the skin tight, then you draw the razor down at an angle."
The boy held the razor at the top of his cheek just as he'd shown him, and Charles sent up a silent prayer that he'd not be skinned alive. When the first pass removed nothing but whiskers, he nearly sighed in relief.
"Now rinse the soap and whiskers from the edge," Charles said, "and make another pass."
In this way, William slowly shaved Charles, pausing occasionally to let him cough, until only a bit of soap on his upper lip and chin were left. Alfred remained a silent but interested witness.
'"This is the trickiest bit," Charles said, wondering if he would lose his nose or his chin in the next few moments. He pulled his upper lip down, and William scraped off his mustache with a newly practiced ease. Then he put his tongue into his lower lip and before he could be too worried, the whiskers were completely scraped away, even the bit in the cleft of his chin.
Smoothing his hands over his cheeks, he felt only one patch of missed whiskers which certainly wasn't worth mentioning to the lad who was anxiously watching for his approval.
"Excellent," he smiled, "I could hardly have done better myself even without trembling hands."
William's chest puffed up, and he rinsed the razor while Alfred fetched trousers and a shirt from the wardrobe. Charles answered his concerned look.
"I think I can manage from here, but I'll need a cloth for my neck. If you can fetch that, you boys may go to the sitting room."
Alfred's eyes were drawn to the scars on Charles's neck, and he blurted out, "Are those burns sir? Not from when you were in the river, are they?"
William looked at him aghast and hissed, "Alfie!"
Charles cleared his throat which led to a short coughing spell. After a moment, he met the lad's eyes. "Not from the river," he said, "I will tell you, both of you, but not today."
"That's why you always wear a neck cloth, though, isn't it?" William asked
"We all have chapters we'd rather not be published," Charles reminded them.
They nodded, accepting his explanation and turning their backs while Charles changed his trousers. Charles sat down to rest for another moment and then stood again to pull on his shirt. They turned back to watch him as he slowly buttoned his shirt. William pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, reminding Charles forcefully of Elsie.
After a few moments, the boy said very quietly, "Gracie looks more like Mrs. Carson."
Charles met his eyes, knowing what he was asking. He chewed his inner cheek for a moment as he decided how to answer. "I've known Gracie since the day she was born, and I loved both her and her mother before that. Sometimes family is what you make it."
Alfred glared at his brother. "We're very grateful to you, Mr. Carson. We didn't mean to pry."
Charles sighed, probably too tired for this conversation, but he didn't want there to be any misunderstanding.
"There's no prying in families," he said quietly, keeping his attention on knotting the cloth around his neck. Both boys looked at him sharply. William nearly dropped the razor. Charles admonished him, "You must be careful. Don't cut yourself."
William nodded, "Um, yes, sir, of course. I'll just, I should probably fetch in more wood."
Alfred swallowed and closed his gaping mouth. "And, um, I should check the stew."
Charles offered him a half smile. "You make an excellent mutton stew." Then he added hastily, "Don't tell Mrs. Carson."
"Don't tell Mrs. Carson what?" Elsie asked from the doorway. Charles shut his eyes in frustration at being caught out. He was saved by his daughter squirming out of his wife's arms and rushing toward him
"Da, Da, Da!"
He caught her as soon as she reached him and pulled her into his lap. "There's my Gracie. I've missed you."
"Da sick," she said, and pressed her head to his shoulder.
"He was, but now he's just tired," he said, pressing his cheek to her hair.
Elsie clicked her tongue at him, "And no wonder. What are you about being up?"
"Our lads helped," he said, fixing his eyes on hers, lifting an eyebrow and nodding to the boys.
"Our lads?" she asked archly and Charles felt the boys go suddenly still. She scoffed, "Your lads more like it. All four of you will be against me soon."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw both boys grin in relief.
"Did you hear that lads? And any one of us willing to anything for the woman," he said. "Ungrateful wife."
William spoke up, "We'd be lost without her, Mr. Carson. You know we would be." Alfred nodded his agreement.
Elsie blushed, "Flatterers, the lot of you. He's teaching you bad habits."
Alfred was very serious, "The very best, Mrs. Carson. The very best."
To be continued