Hello Hearties.
Bittersweet Birthday.
Clara had finished placing Josephine to sleep after singing to her. Ever since Tommy taught Clara the song 'Come Josephine in my flying machine' Clara has been singing the song to her for a lullaby. She sang other lullabies too, but three month old Josephine preferred this song. Maybe because her name was in there?
Seeing as Patrick was still in hiding, Clara had no cash on her to help care for Josephine.
Clara had helped out the best she could at the pub whenever she was able too. She helped Fiona in the back with cooking the food which made Clara feel like she was back in the cafe in Hope Valley. With having to cook so much in the past in that home with Patrick, Clara's cooking had improved.
Only a tiny bit though. She still burned things here and there, but not as much as before.
Tommy had asked Clara to go to the nearby market a bit late in the evening to gather some last minute eggs he needed to make some sort of egg style breakfast in the morning. With Josephine being watched by Fiona and another relative of Fiona's, Clara made her way to the market and collected the eggs.
Upon her return to the pub Clara saw all the lights were turned off. Her eyebrow raised up. They didn't leave already, did they? She walked inside only for someone to turn on the lights and everyone yelled, "Happy Birthday, Clara!"
Clara blushed strawberry red and laughed. "Oh, everyone, this is so sweet! But my birthday is not until May."
"Pa said he had a gift for you," Harry told her as he took her basket of eggs. "He wanted to give it to you as an early birthday gift."
"A gift?" Clara questioned and turned to Tommy, who smiled brightly. "What is it?"
"I'll give it you you later. Let's just celebrate." He cheered just as the small band (Fiona on her violin and a couple of other instruments) began playing.
The hours passed with great food, lovely music and mostly fast pace dancing. Clara was not a dancer so she just sat down and relaxed during the dancing parts. Close to the end of the night just as the celebration was coming to an end (three in the morning to add), Clara was about ready to be escorted back to The Abbey when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Clara turned and found Tommy.
"Good evening, Ms. Stanton," He smiled. "Tired?"
"A little." Clara said. "Hopefully I don't sleep in too much."
"Everyone needs it sometimes," Tommy said. He pulled out of his front jacket pocket an envelope. "Your birthday gift."
"My birthday is in May."
"But if I handed this to you in May, there be no use to it." He explained. "Go on, open it."
Clara looked at it curiously. She slowly opened the closed material and took it out. It was a piece of paper, specifically a ticket. She read the ticket and nearly fell over from the shock.
"A ticket to—"
"Home." Tommy finished. "Or close to at least."
"Tommy—"
"This should bring you to New York. When you arrive my wife's old friend, Mary-Anne Marionette, will meet you at the pick up location. From there you can stay with her and her husband and maybe find work. You can save up from the left over money I have, now giving to you, and then head home." He explained.
"But how did you manage to pay for this ticket? It must cost at least ten fortunes." The brunette asked.
The brunet man smiled at her. He pulled her into a loving embrace, one a parent gave to a child for comfort, and rubbed her hair. "Gold isn't as worthy as family." He whispered.
Gold isn't as worthy as... Clara looked up at him in shock. "Gold... you sold your gold wooden violin?"
"Aye."
"Oh Tommy, but why?" She asked him. He loved that violin and it's been passed down from father to son for so many decades.
"Because gold is valuable, but family is much more than that." He answered. "It's just wood and string that plays music. It's replaceable. But this is a one in a million chance for you to go home to your family." He told the young girl. "Even if it's not directly home, it's a lot closer than London." He winked as he repeated the words she has said during Christmas.
Clara felt herself break down. Her mouth quivered and the many emotions filled her heart. She hugged even tighter and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" She said over and over a million times to him. "Tommy, I'm forever grateful."
"You've got me address. Send a letter." He smiled.
Later that night before Clara laid in her bed, she clasped her hands together and prayed. "Thank you, Father. Thank you."