Winter
Sarah hated the thought of being unsupportive to Kate. Hugh had already caused enough strain in their friendship that she couldn't bear to see it grow any worse. And she certainly didn't want anything more to come between Pat and his sister. Not if she could prevent it in any way. So, in a genuine effort to get to know the man better, and without telling Pat her plan—she knew his thoughts all too clearly–she invited Hugh over for tea.
"I've been looking forward to meeting you," he said from where he sat across the table. A cup of tea sat in front of him. "Kate talks about you all the time."
Sarah smiled at the thought. "I've known her for a very long time. Ten years, in fact." She took a sip of her own tea. It was too weak but at least it was warm which made her happy. It was the sort of gray day outside that allowed the chill to permeate the home regardless of the heater doing its best and the fire built up in the fireplace. "Where are you from?"
"Chicago," he replied, leaning back comfortably in his chair. "And I moved here around five or six years ago."
"Any siblings?"
"Just a brother."
"What about your parents?" Sarah asked. "Are they still alive?"
"Nope," he replied. "I lost them both as a child."
"I'm sorry to hear that." She studied him over her cup of tea, the steam curling up. He hadn't seemed sad when he mentioned his deceased parents but she supposed that if he had been a small child, he might not have had the time to know them. Stop it, Sarah , she chided herself. Pat's words must've gotten into her head and now she couldn't help but look for things wrong with the man. She took another sip of her weak tea while she considered her next question. "Have you ever been married before?" She asked at last.
"What's with all of the questions?" Hugh raised an eyebrow. "I feel a bit like I'm being interrogated by the police."
Sarah shrugged. "I'm just trying to get to know you better," she replied. "For Kate's sake."
"Fair enough." He glanced at the tea in his cup and pushed it aside. "But I get to question you next."
The thought of him prying into her life made her uneasy and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Have you ever been in jail?"
"Once when I was sixteen," he replied. "But I was only in for three days."
"That seems like a lot. What did you do?"
"I got into a fight and I couldn't afford the fine," he said. He leaned forward. "If it makes you feel better, the other boy started it."
Schoolyard fights were hardly uncommon, not even ones bad enough to end with an arrest. Sarah ran a finger along the edge of the table, worn smooth from multiple people doing the same over many years. "Why Kate?" It was the one question she had wondered about the most.
"What do you mean?"
"Of all the women in this town, why did you choose Kate?"
Hugh sighed. "Well, if I'm being entirely honest, I first approached her only because I knew it'd bother her brother, which is actually a very easy thing to do because he's a bit high strung. But I'm sure I don't need to tell you that."
Sarah tightened her grip on her cup but remained silent.
"But then I got to know her," he continued. "And, believe it or not, I fell completely in love with her."
She stared at him, trying to read his face. His voice seemed sincere, but there was something in his expression that he didn't trust—something about the way he spoke of her husband. "I have one more question," she said, her voice chillingly cool. "When my husband was injured at the mill, were you responsible for it?"
There was a heavy silence broken only by the wind rattling the window. Sarah thought she saw something tighten in his face.
"No," he said calmly.
"Are you lying?"
Hugh smiled suddenly. "You were married before," he said, changing the subject. "John, I believe. It's an honest shame what happened to him." He paused to take a drink. "This is terrible tea," he said, shaking his head. "Now, I never had the opportunity to meet him, unfortunately, but I've heard nothing but good things about him. I still have to wonder, did you meet Pat on the Titanic or some time afterward?"
"What?" Sarah could feel her heart pounding in her chest.
"I was just wondering if John had a chance to meet Pat before he froze to death." He shrugged. "I can't imagine Pat makes a very good replacement."
Her hands trembled as she quickly set her cup down, spilling a small amount of tea on the table. "If you hurt Kate, I'll—"
"You'll what?" Hugh interrupted, his voice dripping with condescension as he rose from his seat.
Somewhere behind them, she heard the front door open and close.
"Well, good tea, good conversation…or maybe not," he said with a smile. "I think I'm going to go. We should definitely do this again."
As he left, Sarah clasped her hands together on her lap in an effort to steady them. She could feel the beginnings of tears form in her eyes.
"Why was he here?" Pat said, entering the room. His look of irritation gave way to concern at the expression on her face.
"I…I just…" Sarah wiped away the tears before they could fall. "I only wanted to get to know him better. For Kate, I mean."
"Are ye—?"
"I'm fine." She forced a smile. "It's fine. And now I know him better." She wasn't sure if she had truly learned anything new about the man or if anything he had said was genuine in the first place. All she knew was that he made her feel unsettled and she still didn't see what Kate had seen in him.
Cal sat with Arthur, The Velveteen Rabbit spread open between them. With his finger tracing the sentences, Arthur slowly read it aloud, pausing on occasion to look up at his father with every difficult word. Cal never understood the appeal of the story of a plush rabbit that longed to be real. If that rabbit knew what it was like to truly be alive—with all the pain and suffering that came along with it, he would've been content to remain a toy. But Arthur loved the story enough that his room was filled with rabbits and he insisted on reading it as often as he could. But Cal didn't mind. Time with his children was a rarity and he was going to enjoy every moment he found.
"He had rides in the wuh…eee…um…"
"Wheelbarrow."
"Wheelbarrow," Arthur repeated. "And pic…picnics on the grass and lovely fah…ee…ree…"
"Fairy."
"Fairy huts built for him under the rassss…puh…berry. Raspberry!"
"Good."
"…canes behind the flower border," he finished the sentence proudly. "What's a wheelbarrow?"
"It's a pushcart with one wheel."
"Oh." A look of puzzlement came over the child's face as he must have been trying to picture a cart with only one wheel.
"Let's keep going," Cal insisted.
Arthur pulled the book closer to him. "And once, when the boy was called—"
A letter suddenly dropped onto the pages of the book, obscuring the watercolor of a rabbit sitting proudly on a hill. Cal looked up, surprised to find Dinah standing there smirking at him. He hadn't heard her come in.
"Letter for you," she said. "All the way from Spokane. I wonder what it could say."
He picked up the letter and opened it.
Dinah reached forward and snatched it from his grasp before he had managed to read more than a few sentences. "Who's Kate?" She asked, scanning the writing.
"That would be none of your business." He stood and made a grab for the letter but she moved it out of reach.
"I suppose she's looking for some expensive gift from us."
"Give that back," he struggled to keep his voice calm.
"You look unhappy," Dinah said. "I mean more so than usual." Her gaze sharpened. "Oh, I see."
"What do you see?"
"You've been sleeping with this woman."
"I've done no such thing," Cal shot back.
"Well, that's good," she replied sardonically. "Even you can do better than a poor harp."
He rushed forward and drew his hand back before he realized what he was doing. Stop. He lowered his hand and looked down at his son. Arthur still sat there, his eyes wide and watching, the open book still on his lap. Cal took a deep breath in a desperate attempt to control his anger.
"You almost hit me," Dinah said, nearly gleeful at her close call. "And in front of your son." She took a defiant step forward. "Go ahead and do it. I know you want to."
There was a part of him that longed to strike her, to knock her down and wipe the permanent smirk from her face. He dreamt of it. But no matter how much she might've deserved it, he didn't want to be that sort of man. He didn't want his son to grow up believing that he would do such a thing. No, control was all he had and he refused to let Dinah take that from him.
In a swift motion, Cal snatched the letter back from her grip. He pushed past her and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him. As he turned the corner, the control slipped and he punched the wall. Rather than feeling better, the sharp pain that radiated up his arm only made him feel worse. Like always.
Kate hummed to herself as she pinned up the hem of a pale pink dress that was spread across her kitchen table. It was her best dress and she was attempting to make it a bit more fashionable so it would also work as a wedding dress. It felt strange to even be thinking about a wedding dress again, considering that she had already gone through all of it before.
"Ye must be terribly distracted," Pat said as he entered the room. He held the hand of a very guilty looking toddler. "I found this one goin' for a walk out front."
"Ye what?" Alarm mingled with guilt ran through her. She dropped her sewing and crouched next to Tommy. She had thought he was still napping peacefully in his room and never heard him wake up or leave the house.
"He's fine," her brother reassured her. "And he didn't manage to get too far."
"He's not—" Kate resisted the urge to shake some sense into her toddler, instead gently brushing his hair back from his face as she looked him over. "Ye know yer not supposed to be outside without me present."
"I was…I was…I wanted…" Tommy stammered, looking up at Pat for help.
"Don't look at me, lad."
"Go play," she said. " Inside , this time."
Tommy let out an overly dramatic sigh and stomped out of the room
Pat pulled out a chair and sat. "Ye know, he's lookin' less and less like a turnip every day."
"Stop that," Kate said, returning to her own seat. "What do ye want? Are ye plannin' on tryin' to talk me out of this again?"
"No," he replied. "I don't want to be havin' an argument with ye anymore." He touched the fabric of the dress. "But I do want to know why."
"Why?" Kate gently pulled the dress from his grasp. "He's got a good heart and a great sense of humor and I'm fairly certain I've told ye all of this before."
"Katie, why?" Pat repeated.
She sighed and looked at him. "I feel like…" She remembered Hugh's words on the day he had proposed. They had felt so honest and sincere. "I feel like I needed to make a separate life for meself, ye know?"
"But ye have yer own life."
"But I don't," she replied. "Not with ye here."
"And what do ye mean by that?" There was a note of hurt in his voice.
"Ye tell me who I can and cannot see."
"I tried to warn ye about Hugh," Pat replied defensively. "But I've never tried to—"
"Of course, ye have," she cut him off. "Ye and Sarah both."
He furrowed his brow. "What are ye talkin' about?"
Kate stared at the dress in front of her, the dress that had been worn over and over again, that wasn't nearly fine enough for a wedding but would have to do nonetheless. She thought of her life until that point, everything that had fallen apart or gone wrong. So much wasn't fair. "I can't be happy," she admitted at last, turning in her seat to look at her brother. "Why won't ye just let me be happy for once?"
Pat was at a loss for words. After a moment, he gently touched her arm. "Katie, are ye alright?"
She shook her head. She hadn't meant to say anything, not wanting to risk an argument with him or make him look at her differently but the words slipped out. "I'm just fine," she said, feeling anything but.
"Maybe I'm wrong about Hugh," Pat said softly.
"Maybe ye are."
"And if I'm not—" He continued.
"Pat."
"Yer not tyin' yerself to him."
"Of course, I am," Kate replied. "That's what marriage is."
"I just don't want ye to think yer trapped."
"I'm not goin' to find meself trapped," she said. "And we're driftin' dangerously close to arguin' again."
Pat briefly looked as though he were about to say something else but changed his mind at the last moment, sighing instead. "Ye should know that he made Sarah cry the other day."
Kate smiled. "I love Sarah dearly but she's been cryin' over every little thing lately."
"This was—"
"Last week," she interrupted. "Her tea went cold without her even noticin' and she ended up sobbin' for a good twenty minutes." She shook her head. "And just yesterday, she accidentally startled a wee rabbit and she acted like someone had passed away."
Pat looked confused.
"She thought the rabbit must've found her to be rude," Kate explained.
"She thought what?"
"Sarah is perfectly fine," she said. "It's all because of the baby, ye know."
"Oh." He still looked confused.
"Now, I have to be getting' back to this." She picked up the dress again. "If ye fancy stayin' around, ye'll have to lend a hand."
"What are ye doin' to it?"
"I'm makin' it shorter."
"Why in the world would ye want to make it any shorter?" Pat reached for the fabric again.
"Patrick Murphy," Kate warned, lightly slapping his hand away. "Yer goin' to ruin it. Why don't ye go and bother Sarah for a bit and leave me be?"
"Fine," he said, standing up. "I reckon I'll be headin' off then."
"Good," she said. "Oh, and if ye happen to come across me child out there again, could ye bring him back so I can tie him up?"
"I'll keep an eye out," Pat replied as he headed for the door. "But from the sounds of it, I reckon he's currently wreakin' havoc in the other room."
Kate sighed. "At least he's not out wanderin' the streets."
Lately, it seemed that no matter where Fabrizio went, he was bound to cross paths with Cal sooner or later. He had a sneaking suspicion that Louise might've been giving away their location, but he didn't mind. It was clear to him that Cal was lonely and the man was surprisingly good company. It also didn't hurt that he often paid for all of their drinks.
"I knew she was seeing this fella," Cal said over his third old-fashioned of the evening. He had to shout to be heard over the noise in the room. "But her brother didn't like him so I always just assumed that the moment he'd find out, he would've put a stop to it."
Fabrizio laughed. "Kate will do what she want to do and Pat have no say over it." Not that he thought Pat wouldn't be foolish enough to try. It simply wouldn't go well.
"Who's Pat?" Louise asked. She had spent the majority of the evening flirting with a man sitting too close to them at the bar and only occasionally jumped into their conversation.
"Maybe," Cal replied, ignoring her question entirely. "But she hadn't known him all that long. Have you met him?"
"No," Fabrizio replied. "I not see any of them in four years." Everything he learned about any of their lives came from Sarah's frequent letters. So far as he could remember, she had never mentioned Kate's fiancé.
Cal grew quiet as he stared into his drink.
"Are you going?" Fabrizio, asked. He was suddenly overwhelmed by a sickeningly sweet scent of flowers.
"I don't know." Cal shrugged. "It takes two days by train and she might not even want me there. But I also have nothing else going on."
"Kate sent you invitation," Fabrizio pointed out. He tried to lean over to smell Louise but she was too far from him. "Where that smell is coming from?"
"That would be Louise." Cal gestured to the young woman. "Are you going?" He asked, changing back to the previous topic. "I should probably go."
Fabrizio laughed. "I can't afford a two day train ride."
"I'll pay." There was a strange insistence to his voice.
Fabrizio shook his head. "I miss day of work, I might as well find new job." Admittedly, it was tempting to take him up on his offer but impulsivity wouldn't lead him to anywhere good. He knew just how replaceable he was, how many other men were always looking for work. He refused to lose his job to one of them. Of course, Cal wouldn't understand. He didn't have to concern himself with things like jobs or money. He was free to spend every moment of his time drinking and considering train trips.
"Oh," Cal said. "I wasn't thinking. Do you need money?"
"No," Fabrizio was quick to answer. "But you go. Kate want you there and you can go."
"I suppose I should," Cal drained the rest of his glass. Immediately, he flagged down the bartender for a fourth drink.
"Can I come?" Louise asked. "I don't have a job to be at, at least not right now, and I like weddings. Well, I've only been to one but it was at the Ritz."
Cal sighed. "This won't be at the Ritz, but sure, why not?"
"I speak to you for a moment," Fabrizio said. He pulled him away from the bar. "Louise is…uh…" He struggled to think of the right word. "She only want—"
But Cal held up a hand to stop him. "She's a gold digger, I know. It's not exactly subtle."
"Just be careful, yes?"
"Don't worry. I'm quite familiar with the kind," Cal said as he made his way back to his drink. "I married a gold digger, after all."
Fabrizio went to the bar and flagged down the bartender. "No more for him," he said, gesturing to Cal who had already been pulled into a conversation by Louise.
Spring
Kate had forgotten about flowers. Her mind had been so thoroughly preoccupied by the wedding that she hardly remembered anything but it. But, for some reason, the realization that she needed a bouquet to carry never crossed her mind. Sarah didn't know how it was possible.
But Sarah intended to fix it. After arriving at St. Joseph's, her eyes landed on a flower bed that ran alongside the brick building, filled with pale pink primroses, in exactly the same shade as Kate's dress. She stood near them, trying to look innocent as she slowly inched her way closer and closer to the flowers. The moment no one was looking, she swiftly plucked a handful of the blooms and shoved them into her handbag.
She quickly skipped up the steps and entered the building, ducking into a quiet corner just inside the entrance. She dumped out the primroses and began sorting through them to make a presentable bouquet. She paused momentarily and took a slow breath. Ever since she had awoken that morning, her stomach had been bothering her off and on. It was a feeling that was strangely reminiscent of the last time she was at sea. It's only nerves, she told herself. She wasn't sure how such a wedding could possibly go smoothly.
She had just gathered up a slightly bedraggled bundle and was trying to tie a white ribbon around the stems when she noticed Cal standing there. At once, she dropped the flowers and gave him a hug. "I didn't know you were coming."
"Kate invited me," Cal said. He gathered up the primroses and handed them back to her. "What happened to these?"
"I…borrowed them."
"You borrowed them?"
"Alright, I stole them."
"From that bare patch outside?" He asked with a laugh. "I think stealing from a church is a sin."
Sarah laughed. "Fine by me. But I'm not letting Kate walk down an aisle without a bouquet in her hands," she said. "Have you seen her yet?"
"I actually wanted to talk to you first," Cal said. "What's he like?"
"Hugh?" She hesitated, torn between wanting to be honest and loyalty to her friend. "He's from Chicago and he works at the mill."
"And?"
"Kate really likes him."
"Anything else?"
Sarah shrugged. "I don't know. He bought her some pearls. I don't know him very well. None of us do. Except Kate, I suppose."
"Do you like him?"
"Sure, he seems…" She suddenly couldn't find any words and she looked down at the flowers in her hands. "Kate likes him and we're all going to be supportive and that means you too." It also meant Pat and she prayed that he wouldn't do anything that might cause trouble.
A young woman suddenly stepped forward. "Seems to me that being supportive would mean looking out for someone's best interest," she said, placing a hand on Sarah's arm.
Sarah looked at Cal. "Who is this?" She asked, rather sharper than she intended.
"Oh, right," he said. "This is Louise. She invited herself along."
"I really did," Louise said. "Practically strong-armed him into letting me come. I like weddings and I had nothing better to do with my time."
"Alright." Sarah gently removed her hand. "But this will be a very small wedding and you might find yourself bored."
"Isn't this a party?"
"This is a church," Sarah explained. "The party is afterward. You have been to a wedding before?"
"Once." Louise reached out and plucked a petal from one of the flowers. "None of my friends are the marrying kind."
Cal took the petal from her and handed it back to Sarah. "You get used to her."
Louise shrugged. "I hope no one's gotten used to me yet."
Sarah had sworn that Kate was already dressed, that she was only fussing over her hair while she waited for everything to begin, hiding in the tiny office that sat just inside the church entrance. Cal, still reluctant to bother her, knocked softly on the door.
"Hugh, I told ye to leave me be," Kate's voice came through the wood.
"It's Cal."
The door opened and Kate immediately threw her arms around him in a hug. "I didn't think ye'd actually come," she said as she pulled him inside the room and shut the door.
"I had nothing better to do," he replied. "And Dinah was home being…Dinah." He didn't feel the need to mention that she had seen the invitation or the comments she made. "You look beautiful."
Kate's face flushed pink as she smoothed down the front of her dress. "It feels a bit peculiar, ye know, goin' through this whole thing again when I've already been down this road. Especially with…" Her smile faltered. "I wish everyone was happier about it."
"It's your day so you can do whatever you want and everyone else has no choice but be happy for you whether they like it or not."
"Are ye?"
"Of course, I am."
Kate brought a hand up and ran her fingers along the pearls around her neck. "Hugh gave me these. Aren't they something?"
"Can I see them?"
She pulled the strand over her head and held them out.
Cal ran his hand over the pearls, looking at them closely. They nearly felt too smooth and looked too perfect to be real. But he kept his suspicions to himself. "They're very nice," he said, slipping them back over her head. "I am surprised that a strand of pearls would've been enough to win you over like that."
Kate laughed. "Ah, it wasn't only the pearls, mind ye. He also took me to the theater and the Early Bird."
"I could've taken you to a speakeasy," Cal said. "They're not all that hard to find. And I could've bought you pearls too."
"Ye almost sound jealous."
"Not jealous," he quickly replied. "Only giving you a hard time."
"That's good because yer married."
"Very much so."
The door swung open and a man entered the room, his gaze shifting between the two of them. Immediately, he moved to stand slightly in front of Kate, positioning himself between him and Cal. He assumed it must've been Hugh.
"Yer not supposed to see me," Kate said.
"I'm sorry," Hugh apologized. He tilted her chin up and kissed her. "I just couldn't wait any longer." He turned his gaze on Cal and his eyes narrowed. "Who're you?"
"Cal Hockley," Cal replied. He briefly contemplated sticking his hand out but then thought better of it. He didn't think the man was the sort to shake hands. "I'm an old friend."
"Oh, the rich one," Hugh replied. "I think Kate's mentioned you once. I'm sorry that this wedding isn't likely up to your fine standards."
"Hugh!" Kate interjected.
"And yet I'm sure I'll enjoy myself all the same," Cal replied.
"So, how did the two of you meet?" Hugh put a hand on Kate's arm.
"Through Sarah."
"And how did you meet Sarah? I can't imagine the two of you travel in similar social circles."
"I actually knew her husband."
"Pat?"
"John." The last time he saw John flashed through his mind…the cold railing beneath his hands…John handing him the wedding ring—Cal took a sharp breath and forcefully pushed the memory away.
"Stop interrogatin' him," Kate said, suddenly.
"I'll interrogate anyone who's trying to steal away my fiancée on the day of our wedding," Hugh said.
"He's not trying to steal me away," she replied. "Cal is married."
Cal held up his hand, showing his wedding ring. "Very."
"Well, pardon me for assuming that everyone would recognize what an actual steal you are." Hugh wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her farther away.
"I think I'm going to go and leave you two alone," Cal said. He wanted to add, 'yell if you need help,' but didn't think that would be wise. "I should say hi to your brother. I imagine he's around somewhere."
"Check outside," Kate replied. "Pat's not a fan of churches."
Cal closed the door softly behind him. He had known many men just like Hugh before—his world was full of them. Men who were able to subtly adjust their personalities to achieve their ends. In a word, untrustworthy. Kate falling for him might've surprised Sarah and Pat, but it didn't surprise him. The Hugh that she knew was not the same one that everyone else met. He also knew that no one could hide their nature for long. Sooner or later, the truth would always come out.
Pat sat on the worn stone steps outside of the church with his head in his hands as he watched cars slowly drive past. He had no intention of setting foot inside the church until he absolutely had to. He never cared for churches even before the sinking—the incense always made him feel sick—but, after the horror that he went through, he could no longer bring himself to believe in any sort of God.
He had also, somehow, been saddled with watching Tommy and John. Neither one of them had any interest in being inside, choosing, instead, to spend their time destroying a nearby flowerbed. As long as they stayed away from traffic, he didn't see much harm in their little act of mischief. After all, half of the flowers had already been torn out.
As the door behind him creaked open, he turned to see Cal coming down the stairs. The man stopped at the bottom and gave him a stern look.
"I wasn't expectin' to see ye," Pat said.
"And yet here I am," Cal replied, crossing his arms.
"Did ye want somethin'?"
"I met your sister's fiancé."
Pat sighed. "My condolences then."
"I don't like him," Cal stated bluntly.
"No one likes him except Katie." It was infuriating. Pat didn't understand how she didn't see what they all saw.
"I can't believe you're letting your sister marry him."
"Lettin'?" Pat stood to face him. "Have ye ever tried to tell Katie not to do somethin'?"
"So you're fine with this?"
"Of course, I'm not fine with it," Pat snapped.
"Then why haven't you put a stop to it?"
"What do ye want me to do?" He asked. "Tie her up? Kill him?"
Cal raised his eyebrows.
"I am not goin' to kill him," Pat said. "Sarah won't let me." Not that he thought he would actually be able to bring himself to do such a thing.
"Do you need me to do it?"
"Is that how yer people handle things? Someone's a problem so ye murder them?" Pat lowered his voice. "Or I suppose ye'd just have a butler do it or some such thing."
"No, we just pay for the problem to go away."
"Then pay him to go away."
For a moment, Cal appeared to genuinely consider the idea, but then he shook his head. "I couldn't do that to Kate."
Pat returned to his seat on the steps. He couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of dread that laid over him at the thought of what was to come. Kate had wanted to be happy but he was afraid that she would find anything but happiness with Hugh. "I tried me best to put an end to this," he insisted. "I really have. Katie doesn't listen to me."
"She is your responsibility," Cal said quietly, sitting next to him.
"Don't let her hear ye say that," Pat replied. "That'll just make her want to marry him even more."
"I suppose she can be a bit stubborn."
Pat laughed. "That's an understatement if I ever heard one," he said. He fell silent as someone walked past them. Once the door had closed again, he continued. "Ye know, it's a shame ye didn't arrive sooner. Ye might've had a chance to talk some sense into her. I bet she would've listened to ye."
"Why would she listen to me?"
"Because she…never mind," Pat finished. He had his own suspicions regarding the two of them but didn't think it would do anyone any good to voice them. Not anymore. "She likely wouldn't have listened to anyone."
Except Hugh , he thought. Katie had no problem listening to him.
Sarah had waited until she saw Hugh leave before entering Kate's room. She paused just inside the door and smiled at the sight of her friend standing in front of the mirror, playing with the strand of pearls around her neck. Her stomach gave a sudden lurch and she took a slow, deep breath to steady herself.
Kate looked over and smiled.
"You look beautiful," Sarah said, coming over to stand beside her. She held out the bouquet of primroses.
"So I've been told," Kate replied, taking the flowers. "What happened to these, then?"
"Well, they were stolen and then dropped and I'm sorry if a few are missing petals. The woman who came with Cal kept plucking them off."
"Cal brought someone?"
"He did."
"Hm." Kate brought the flowers to her nose and smelled them before carefully setting them down.
"What is it?"
Kate shook her head. "Ah, it's nothin'. It's just that he always said he'd never have an affair, ye know."
Sarah laughed. "I don't think he's having an affair. Not with her."
"Do ye reckon he's havin' an affair with someone else, then?"
"Kate, are you really asking me that?"
Kate shrugged and turned her attention back to the mirror. Her fingers reached up for the pearls once more. "Ye do like Hugh, right?" She asked.
"Of course, I do. He makes you happy and that's all that matters." Sarah plucked a loose hair from her dress. "And if he hurts you, I will just have to stab him in the face with a spoon."
"Not a knife?"
Sarah shook her head. "A spoon would hurt more." Her stomach gave another lurch and her smile faltered.
"Are ye alright?" Kate looked at her with concern.
"I'm just not feeling well," Sarah replied, forcing a smile. "And my back's been hurting a bit lately which isn't helping." She doubted they were related but experiencing both miseries at the same time made each of them feel worse.
"Maybe ye slept wrong?" Kate suggested.
"That would then explain why I'm so tired today."
Kate smiled. "That and the fact that ye have a little one currently eatin' up all of yer energy."
Sarah put a hand on her stomach and sighed. "Well, the little guy must be awfully hungry then because I feel terrible."
"A good night's sleep and ye'll be feelin' yerself again, I'm sure." Kate readjusted one of the pins that kept her hair in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. "Is it strange that I'm feelin' a bit nervous? I mean, I've done this all before and not all that long ago."
"It's not strange at all," Sarah replied. "I was nervous before I married again."
"Aye, but ye were marryin' me brother. That's a huge gamble on whether he'd show up or not," Kate said. "It'd be stranger if ye weren't nervous."
"Stop that," Sarah playfully chided her. "I love your brother."
"Inexplicably so." Kate looked at her and furrowed her brow. "Yer lookin' a bit pale so ye should probably go find yer seat before ye fall over." She smiled. "I don't want ye interruptin' me weddin' by dyin' on me."
"I wouldn't dare," Sarah said, pulling her into a quick hug. "I'll see you in a bit." With that, she left the room, letting out a deep sigh. Her nausea had only grown worse and she fervently prayed that the wedding would be over as quickly as possible.
"We should probably go inside," Cal said quietly. "I think it's likely starting soon."
Pat's heart sank at the reminder. Despite all of his efforts, Kate was still going to marry Hugh. "Aye, we probably should," he replied. Yet, neither of them made a move from where they sat, both reluctant to face what was to come. A car sputtered past, spilling exhaust into the air and a pair of dogs fell into a loud barking match somewhere nearby.
The doors behind them creaked open and Sarah's hesitant voice called out. "Pat?"
"Is it startin'?" He asked, rising to his feet.
She shook her head and descended the steps to meet him. "Could you please take me home?"
"Ye want to leave?" Pat nearly reminded her about their collective agreement to be supportive, but one look at her pale face and the way she held her arms wrapped around herself, silenced him.
"I think I need to go home," she replied. "I'm just not feeling well."
"Katie won't be happy if we leave," Pat pointed out.
"You can come right back but I need to lie down."
"Alright," he relented, placing a gentle kiss on her head. He turned to Cal. "Could ye tell Katie where we've gone?" He asked. "And keep an eye on the children?"
Sarah looked around. "Where are the children?"
Pat gestured towards the flower bed where they were busy digging for worms.
"Oh," she replied with a sigh. "Well, at least they're not playing in traffic."
"I'll take care of everything," Cal interjected. "Go on home and lie down."
"Pat will be coming back," Sarah insisted, casting a pointed look at her husband. "Just as soon as he takes me home.
"Of course I will," he said, his voice heavy with resignation. He wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close, and started to guide her toward the waiting car.
Sarah leaned into him as they walked. "Maybe I ate something," she suggested hopefully.
"I'm sure that's it," he said. He opened the car door and carefully helped her inside.
Sarah wrapped her arms tighter around herself and went silent, her face a mask of worry.
Pat found her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "It'll be fine," he reassured her.
She smiled softly.
The look of complete trust on her face made him uncomfortable. It had to be fine , he thought as he closed the car door. It had to be.
Cal followed everyone else out of the church into the warm spring sunlight. Louise, standing beside him, let out a dramatic sigh. "Oh, I thought that would never end."
"You didn't have to come," Cal said, raising an eyebrow.
"Sure I did," she replied. "I couldn't let you handle this all on your lonesome. Now what kind of friend would that have made me then?"
Before he could reply, Kate approached them. "Did Pat and Sarah leave?" She asked, placing a hand on Cal's arm. "I was lookin' around for them but haven't seen them anywhere?"
"Oh, right. I didn't have a moment to tell you earlier," he said. "Sarah wasn't feeling well so Pat took her home."
Kate nodded. "She certainly didn't look well earlier."
Cal looked around, taking in everyone clustered into small groups. "I'm surprised that Pat's not here though. So far as I knew, he was only taking her home then coming right back."
A look of irritation crossed over Kate's face. "I'm not surprised. It seems he found an excuse to avoid this so, of course, he be takin' it."
Secretly, Cal thought she was right but he didn't want to say it aloud. "I don't think he would do that," he said, instead.
"Maybe—" She stopped talking at the arrival of a young boy.
"I have a message I'm supposed to be giving to a bride," the young boy held out a piece of paper folded up small. He looked around at them. "But I don't see anyone wearing white here."
"It's me," Kate said, reaching for the paper. "I'm the bride."
The boy scrunched up his face in confusion. "But you're not wearing white," he pointed out, holding it out of her reach.
"I don't own anything in white."
After a moment's serious consideration, the boy handed her the paper. "The man also said that you'd pay me a nickel for delivering it safe and sound."
"I don't have a nickel," Kate snapped.
The boy swiftly snatched back the paper. "Then you don't have a message either."
Cal reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin. "Here's a quarter. Now go away," he said. He took the paper from the boy's hand and passed it to Kate.
"Yes, sir," the boy eagerly pocketed the money. "Thank you, sir." He turned and ran off before anyone could say anything else.
Kate unfolded the paper. "It's from Pat," she murmured, her brows furrowing as she read. "At Sacred Heart. Sorry for missing wedding." She turned her gaze to Cal. "The hospital?" She refolded the paper with shaking hands. "I have to go."
"I can drive you," Cal immediately offered.
"Or her husband could drive her," Hugh said coolly. He had come up behind them while they were talking. "You can mind the children," he added, directing his words to Cal.
"Could you be takin' them home?" Kate asked. Without waiting for a reply, she started walking toward the car. "There's sandwiches already made," she called over her shoulder. "And they can have a wee bit of cake, mind ye, not too much. And Tommy should be takin' a nap or he'll be turnin' into a holy terror."
After Kate and Hugh left, Louise turned to Cal. "You know, I was watching you during the whole wedding."
"And?" Cal said, looking around for John and Tommy. The children seemed to have vanished the first chance they had.
"You're not supposed to be sad at a wedding," she said.
"I'm not sad."
"I know sad when I see sad," Louise persisted.
"I am not sad." He looked down and jumped at the sudden sight of Tommy directly underfoot. "Where did you come from?"
"You know," Louise continued. "I almost expected you to object, if I'm being honest."
"John," he called, catching sight of the older boy at last and waving him over. "We're going."
Louise let out another dramatic sigh. "Oh, thank God. I could use a good drink."
"We're not getting drinks," Cal replied wearily, as he tried to herd everyone to his car. "We're going home."
Kate's mind raced with worry as she clutched the seat beneath her, the car jouncing over the road. She tried desperately to wrap her head around what was happening. Sarah hadn't looked well earlier but she hardly looked in need of a hospital. Unless something else had happened. The image of a car flipped upside down on the side of the road flashed through her mind… no. She refused to entertain the thought. She silently cursed her brother for not writing a longer message.
She left Hugh waiting in the car and hurried into the hospital. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a sterile glow over the faces of anxious family members scattered around the waiting room. She looked at each person in turn until she spotted Pat. He sat alone in one corner, his body slumped, and his eyes fixated on the linoleum floor.
Kate settled in the seat next to him and gently touched his arm to get his attention.
"We only made it halfway home when she started feelin' worse," he said softly, his gaze still in front of him.
"Is Sarah…" Her voice trailed away, a knot forming in her stomach.
"Sarah's fine," Pat replied. "She's sleepin', I think. Or she was sleepin' when I left."
Something in the way he spoke sent a feeling of dread running through her. She was almost afraid to ask the next question. "And the…the baby?"
For a moment Kate wondered if he had even heard her but just as she was about to repeat the question, he shook his head.
The breath caught in her throat and a surge of grief welled up within her. "I am so, so sorry," she managed to say, her voice breaking on the final word. She knew how badly Sarah had wanted the baby and she could only imagine how devastated she must feel. "Are ye…?"
"I didn't…" His voice was so quiet that she could hardly hear him. "I didn't think I want…I would've cared but…but now that he's…" His voice gave away. "Ye won't tell Sarah?"
"I honestly don't even know what yer sayin'?" Kate replied. "None of those are proper sentences."
Pat took a shuddering breath and tried again. "I never thought I wanted this child," he confessed, his hands trembling as he clenched them tightly. "A wee part of me had wished it would just disappear." His words escaped in a strained whisper.
Kate put her arm around him. "Go on," she gently encouraged. She was surprised that he was opening up to her at all and she was afraid it would stop at any moment. She knew how badly he needed to get everything out.
"I never meant it, not truly. And now…" He brought a hand over his face. "For God's sake, I can scarcely breathe." He shook his head. "I had never seen him or held him. He was hardly even real. It doesn't make a bit of sense." He looked at her, his eyes pleading for an answer. "How can it…why do I care so deeply?"
"Because he was your own child."
Pat looked down at his hands and took a deep breath. He opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it, using his sleeve to hastily wipe his eyes. "God, it's not fair," he managed, at last. "How…" The rest of his sentence died in his throat as he broke down.
Kate drew him to her shoulder and held him tightly. She could feel him trembling and knew that he was silently crying. "Nothin' in our lives has been fair, and this here, least of all," she said softly. Her heart ached for both him and Sarah. "I know it's of little comfort at this moment," she continued. "But there will be others." She prayed that she was right…that there would be more.
"Ye don't know that." His voice cracked with uncertainty.
"I do know that."
"But what if—" Pat began.
Kate saw Hugh walking across the waiting room and immediately let go of her brother.
"We need to go," Hugh said. "Before it grows dark."
"They make street lights for a reason," Pat retorted bitterly, placing a hand on Kate's arm.
"If you'll excuse me, I'm talking to my wife."
Kate held up a hand in an attempt to diffuse the situation before an argument could break out. "Ye should really go back in," she said to Pat. "So yer there when Sarah wakes up."
"Kate," Hugh said again, his voice stern. "We need to go now."
"Why don't ye go straight to hell?" Pat's words were laced with venom, his voice echoing through the hushed waiting room. Several pairs of eyes turned to look at them.
"Pardon me for wanting to take my wife home for our wedding night," Hugh shot back.
"I'm goin'," Kate said, gently removing Pat's hand from her arm. She rose from her seat and looked at him. "Will ye tell Sarah I was here?"
Pat nodded.
"I'll stop by sometime tomorrow," she promised.
"We'll be home then," he replied in a quiet, resigned tone.
"Alright." Kate considered hugging him but with Hugh watching her closely, she thought better of it.
Hugh put his arm around her in a tight grip as they walked out of the hospital. She looked over her shoulder and frowned. She had never seen such a dark look on her brother's face before and couldn't tell if it was due entirely to the loss of his child or if it was also the presence of Hugh that cast such a shadow. Poor Sarah, she thought sadly. She couldn't imagine experiencing such a loss.
Cal found Sarah lying on her sofa, cocooned beneath several blankets, an untouched cup of tea resting on a nearby table. A perfect picture of misery.
He settled onto a seat near her and looked at her with concern. "I'd ask how you're feeling but…" It was all too apparent. "Where is everyone?" He asked, instead.
"Pat's working and John's probably outside," she murmured softly from under the blankets. "I think."
"They just left you alone?" He regretted the question the moment the words left his mouth. Of course, Pat couldn't have just stayed home and John was only a young boy.
Sarah pulled the blanket down, revealing eyes red from crying. "Thank you for taking care of everything the other day," she said. "John made sure to tell me that you allowed him two pieces of cake."
"I did," he admitted. "I also told him not to tell his mother."
"I'm not angry," she said. "It's only cake."
"If it helps, he also had a sandwich afterward…half of one, anyway." He fell silent as he searched for something to say, something to break her out of her sadness.
"Was Kate angry that we left?" Sarah suddenly asked. "I know she said that she wasn't but…I ruined her wedding."
"No, not one bit," Cal reassured her. "She was more upset at that boy who refused to hand over your message until she paid him."
"I told Pat to pay him first but he thought the child would've just pocketed the money and tossed the message."
"I'm afraid I'm with Pat on this one," he said. "That rascal looked very untrustworthy. Probably grow up to be a lawyer," he added in an attempt at lightening the mood.
Sarah managed a weak smile.
Cal looked at the clock on the wall and frowned. The morning was growing late and, as much as he didn't want to leave Sarah alone, he was in danger of missing his train if he stayed any longer. "I should probably be going," he said, reluctantly rising from his seat. "Would you tell Kate that I said goodbye?"
"Tell her yourself."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sure she's too busy with her new husband. I wouldn't want—"
"You can't leave without seeing her," Sarah insisted. "She'll be so hurt."
"I don't think it's a great idea," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Her husband doesn't like me very much and—"
"First Pat and now you." She shook her head. "What are the two of you doing to antagonize him so much?"
"Existing," Cal replied simply. "Now I have to go."
Sarah pushed herself into a sitting position, wincing as she moved. "Cal, go see Kate."
"I'm going to miss my train," he replied. "I'll have to see her the next time I'm here."
She sighed and fell back onto the sofa. "I cannot believe you. Goodbye, then."
He left, feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt. It hurt to leave without seeing Kate but he also knew it would only hurt more to see her with the man she married.
Summer
The open window above the kitchen sink invited in a warm breeze that gently rustled the curtains and carried with it the sweet scent of summer. The distant hum of insects filled the air and a fat bumble bee hovered by the window, contemplating coming inside.
"I'm glad yer feelin' better," Kate said. She sat across from Sarah at her kitchen table. Cups of tea sat in front of them and she busily darned a pair of socks as she spoke.
"Am I?" Sarah asked. Kate had suggested that they sit outside to enjoy the beautiful day but she had refused. It didn't feel right to enjoy the world around her.
"Physically better, I mean."
"I'm still tired."
"Ye know what I mean."
Sarah shrugged and stared into her tea. She knew that her friend had wanted to say something else and was struggling to find the words. But she wasn't about to give her any help as she didn't want sympathy. She wasn't even certain that she wanted company. "I think I might—" She started.
Kate cut her off. "I spoke to Pat the other day."
Sarah watched and waited for her to continue.
"He seems to think that ye've been avoidin' him."
She had been avoiding him. Sarah ran a finger along the rim of her cup and waited.
"Why are ye avoidin' him?" Kate asked.
"I just…" The room seemed to hold its breath as Sarah tried to gather her thoughts into words. "I…I was afraid," she confessed slowly.
"Afraid?" Kate was surprised. "Of Pat?"
She knew how absurd it sounded. "Of his reaction," Sarah clarified.
"Sarah—"
"He had always made it quite clear that he didn't care for children," she continued. "I think his heart must've stopped when I told him the news."
"That's not—"
Now that Sarah had begun speaking, she found that she couldn't stop. "I'm afraid that he must be happy about what had happened because…" She shook her head and tried to ignore the tightness in her throat. "I just couldn't bear to see it. I couldn't…"
"Ye think Pat's happy?" Kate asked softly.
"How could he be otherwise?"
"Oh, Sarah." Kate sighed. "Ye need to have a talk with him," she said. "His heart is broken."
Sarah blinked back tears but she didn't trust herself to speak.
"I was with him right afterward," her friend continued. "That was only the second time in me life that I've ever seen him shed tears." Kate pushed her cup of tea to one side. "But, I don't think that's the true reason why ye've been steerin' clear of him. Yer not daft enough to truly believe that Pat, of all the people in the world, would ever be happy over such a terrible thing." Kate looked at her kindly. "What is troublin' ye?"
Sarah tapped her finger against her cup, hesitating before admitting her deepest fear. "What if I'm too old?" She asked quietly.
"What?"
She took a deep breath. "What if I'm too old and that's why I lost it and…and…I'm not going to be getting any younger."
"Yer not old."
"I'm thirty-six," Sarah said, her voice trembling. "I've missed my chance and it's not fair to Pat. He should never have married me. I'm sure he must regret it and…"
"Sarah, stop it."
"If there was a way I could free him from it, I would. But it's too late for that as well."
"Ye need to talk to him."
"How could I when I've ruined his life? He must—"
Kate flung the sock at her and Sarah was startled into silence.
"I'm sorry," Kate said. "But ye were spiralin'." She took a moment to refill Sarah's cup of tea. "I know yer grievin' right now and it's makin' ye think all kinds of dreadful thoughts, but they're just in yer head. Pat loves ye deeply. It doesn't matter to him how old ye are. He doesn't care if the two of ye never have any children, because yer what matters. And I'm fairly certain he wouldn't last two days without ye by his side."
Sarah looked down and took a shaky breath.
"Ye needed to talk to him because right now he's tryin' to sort out what he's done wrong and that is what's not fair to him."
Sarah couldn't hold it in any longer and she started to cry.
At once, Kate moved closer and enveloped her in a hug. "Yer goin' to be alright," she promised. "I mean, ye've already endured the worst thing that could ever happen to a person."
Sarah tried to decide if she had meant losing a child or surviving the sinking of the Titanic and was about to ask when she heard heavy footsteps approaching.
"Hugh must be home," Kate said, letting go of her and returning to her seat.
Sarah wiped away her tears in an attempt to compose herself. "I should go," she said.
"No," Kate replied. "Ye don't need to be leavin' just because he's home."
Hugh came into the room. He leaned down to kiss Kate, his eyes briefly meeting Sarah's. "Sarah," he said.
"Hugh," she replied, her voice polite but distant.
"How long have you been here?"
"A few hours." Sarah picked up her cup and took a sip.
"That long? Your family must be missing you."
Sarah could hear the unspoken message behind his words. "I should go," she said, standing up.
"Sarah, ye don't need to go," Kate insisted.
"Of course, she does," Hugh interjected. "She belongs with her family."
Sarah picked up the sock from the floor and placed it on the table. "I'm going. Thank you for the tea."
As she turned to leave, Hugh called out to her. "Tell your husband that I said hi."
Sarah hesitated in the doorway. She wished she was bold enough to tell Hugh precisely what she thought of him but she knew she could never do such a thing. Instead, she shook her head silently and walked away.
Pat felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness. As if losing a child wasn't enough to weigh on him, Sarah had been avoiding him ever since it happened and he didn't understand why. What had he done wrong? The question echoed in his mind, tormenting him. Kate had encouraged him to give her time but he couldn't help but feel like everything around him was slowly crumbling into pieces and time would only make it worse.
And if that wasn't enough, Sarah had not only withdrawn from him but from the world around her. She spent her time drifting through the house like a ghost, lost in her own pain. Pat had no choice but to step up, making sure John ate and went to bed at a decent hour—usually of John's choosing—and attempting to take care of anything else that needed doing. It was eye opening how badly they needed Sarah to hold everything together.
"Accordin' to this, three potatoes should do," Pat said, looking closely at Kate's handwriting. She had given him several easy recipes that included the fewest number of ingredients. Ones that she thought he should be able to manage. "But that doesn't seem like enough and it doesn't specify size of potato. We better throw in a few more, just to be on the safe side."
"What do I get to do?" John stood next to him on a stepstool. He hadn't been eager about the need to step up but Pat was not about to try to handle everything on his own.
"Ye can take care of washin' them," Pat replied.
"What?"
"Wash them," Pat repeated. "It's a mighty important job. Katie underlined it three times."
"Why can't you wash them?"
Pat turned on the water. "Because I'm the adult." He looked at Kate's recipe again and frowned. "Chop one onion," he read. "Do ye think we need to give the onion a wash first?"
The boy hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know."
"Probably should do it to be safe." Pat glanced over his shoulder and noticed Sarah silently watching them from the doorway, a peculiar look on her face.
Taking the risk of going against Kate's advice, Pat closed the distance between them. Please don't be walking away, he thought as he waited for her to either move away or, he hoped, say something.
Sarah took a breath. "I am so sorry," she said softly.
"Why would ye be apologizin'?" Pat, relieved that she was finally speaking to him, took her hand in his. "Ye have nothin' to apologize for."
She began to softly cry.
Immediately, Pat drew her to him and held onto her tightly.
"I haven't been fair to you," she said, her voice slightly muffled.
"Yer grievin'."
"I thought…I thought you might not have…I didn't think you would have cared."
Pat pulled back to look at her. "Ye truly thought that?" He asked incredulously. He tried to hide the hurt in his voice but he wasn't sure if he managed it. "Sarah, I care so much…" His voice broke and he took a deep breath before continuing. "So much I can hardly breath when I think about…" He shook his head. "It's worse when I think of how much yer sufferin'. I wish I could just take all of yer pain onto meself because I would in a moment."
Sarah looked down at her feet. "I don't understand how it could hurt so much."
He gently lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Ye once helped me through somethin' terrible and now it's me turn to do the same for ye."
She clung to him with a desperate grip.
"It'll be alright," Pat said. He brushed a strand of her hair behind her hair. "I promise."
"I finished washing the potatoes," John called from across the room, interrupting the moment.
"Wash the onions next," Pat called back.
John groaned.
"Why are you washing onions?" Sarah quietly asked.
"We're tryin' to make some soup," he explained. "Katie gave me a recipe to follow. She said it was so easy that even Tommy could make it."
Sarah wiped her eyes and sniffled. "Do you want some help?"
"Nah, we'll manage," he replied, gently kissing the top of her head. "Ye should go lie down."
"I don't think I could sleep."
"Lie down anyway," he insisted. "I know ye haven't been sleepin' lately."
"I'm finished with the onions," John called out once again. "I don't think we were supposed to wash it. I can't get all the soap off."
Pat kissed her once more. He could feel her trembling and he held onto her for a moment longer, reluctant to let her go.
"Pat!" John called out louder. "I need help."
"I better see to this before me helper goes on strike," he said. "Go lie down. I'll bring ye some soup once it's finished so long as it's not too terrible."
Sarah nodded and managed a smile.
Pat waited until he saw her bury herself beneath blankets on the sofa before he returned to his task. He didn't understand how she could have thought so little of him to think that he would've been happy for such a thing. He tried to push the thought from his head, thinking instead of the simple fact that she was no longer avoiding him. It was something, at least.
Fall
Kate nestled against Hugh in front of the fire, the soft glow casting dancing shadows across the room. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the gentle ticking of the clock on the had been tucked into bed hours earlier, leaving them with the moment to themselves.
She brought her glass to her lips and took a small sip. The wine had a slight chemical taste to it. "Wherever did ye find this?" She asked, trying not to make a face.
"A hole in the ground," Hugh replied.
Kate twisted herself around to look at him, certain that she misheard.
"I really mean a hole in the ground," he explained. "There's a place on Trent Alley where you drop some money in and someone beneath hands up liquor."
"Well, this is wine," she pointed out.
"I paid extra for wine."
"Ye paid too much."
Hugh sighed. "I didn't realize you were such a wine expert."
"A wine connoisseur, you mean," Kate said with a laugh.
He fell silent and removed his arm from around her shoulders. "Are you calling me stupid?" He questioned sharply.
"No," she stammered, hastily backtracking. "No, not at all. I was just…I was only teasin' ye."
"I see."
Kate waited a moment, trying to judge the situation. But Hugh returned to his wine and didn't say anything else. She took another sip of her own wine, fighting to ignore the taste. "So I was thinkin'," she began, her voice careful and measured. "About what I'm goin' to make for Christmas this year. Usually I make duchess potatoes. They just look so pretty on a plate but, apparently, John's been refusin' to eat potatoes lately. No one knows why but I suspect that Pat had something to do with—"
"John?"
"Sarah's son."
"I know who John is," Hugh said. "I was wondering why he would be in our home for Christmas."
"We always have Christmas together," she explained. "Some years, I'll cook at Sarah and Pat's but half of their pantry is usually expired so I always try to insist on holdin' it here."
"It sounds like a hassle to me."
"It's not," Kate said. "Well, there are a lot of people but they're all me favorite people so it's not so bad." She loved when they were all together and it was happening less and less as the years passed.
Hugh put his arm back around her shoulders and pulled her close. "I don't know," he said. "I almost rather have our very first Christmas, just the two of us."
"Just us?" Kate couldn't imagine spending a holiday without them.
"It'll make it more special."
"I don't—"
"Sarah and Pat can manage a single Christmas on their own, I promise."
Kate was still uncertain and she avoided giving an answer by taking another long drink of wine.
"They might even appreciate it after what happened to them," Hugh continued.
She could feel herself losing the argument. "Oh, alright," she relented. "I'll let Sarah know." And hope she understands , she thought.
Hugh turned her head toward him and kissed her. "Thank you. It'll be perfect, you'll see. Just the two of us…might even be a bit romantic."
"Two of us and Tommy, you mean."
"What?"
"Tommy will be here."
Hugh trailed his fingers up her arm. "Well, you'll just have to put him to bed early then, won't you?"
"I suppose I could do that," she replied. She was distracted with the thought of having to break the news to Sarah and Pat. She couldn't imagine either of them having anything good to say about Hugh's insistence on spending Christmas alone. They've never had a single good thing to say about him at the best of times.
Fabrizio froze just inside the doors of the Famous Players-Lasky Corporation. It had been heavily decorated for Christmas. Thick garlands trailed across door lintels and along the staircase handrails. A massive tree sat right in the middle, its green branches weighed down with colorful balls and clumps of silver tinsel. He had never seen anything like it before. The sight was over-the-top and absolutely mesmerizing. After a moment, he shook himself out of his reverie, pocketed a few strands of tinsel for reasons he didn't know, and continued on his way.
Lelia smiled at him as he stepped into Rose's anteroom. "I was wondering if you had died," she said.
"No, still alive," Fabrizio replied with no small amount of guilt. It had been quite a while since he had last been there.
"I just haven't seen you in so long."
"It's not been so long, I think."
"You missed your last three lunches with Ms. Dewitt-Bukater," she pointed out.
Fabrizio rubbed the back of his neck. "Things come up."
"I'm sure they did," Lelia said. "I assume those things were wearing high heels and bobbed hair?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." He hadn't known just how it had happened but much of his free time lately had been taken by Louise. It seemed as though she was making it her life's work to drag him to as many different hidden speakeasies as possible before she had to start work on her next film.
"And I'm sure you don't." Lelia smiled sweetly. "But don't you worry. Ms. Dewitt-Bukater doesn't hold it against you. She was actually going to cancel two of those lunches anyway so you just saved her a bit of time."
"I'm still sorry about it," Fabrizio said. "She here today?"
Lelia gathered up the folders on her desk and dropped them into a drawer. "She is, indeed." She gently closed the lid over her typewriter.
"Are you leaving?"
"It's Christmas Eve," she said. "Ms. Dewitt-Bukater is letting me leave early," she added, seeing the blank look on his face.
"You have plans?"
She picked up her coat and pulled it on. "Only church tonight but I'm spending all of tomorrow with my family. You?"
"My family is in Italy," he explained. "Was in Italy." His mother had died years ago and while he was grateful he had a chance to see her one last time before she passed, the lost years weighed heavy on him. The realization that he no longer had anyone in his home country if he should ever return to it was jarring, to say the least. He was entirely alone in the world.
"You can always join my family, if you want," Lelia offered.
Fabrizio shook his head. "No, I only intrude."
She studied his face as she pulled on her hat. "Perhaps next year, then. You can go right in, by the way." She picked up her handbag and started toward the door. "Oh, I nearly forgot." Lelia returned to her desk and, opening the bottom drawer, pulled out a package. "Merry Christmas," she said, beaming as she pushed it into his hands. "I know you don't like presents but I made this myself."
Before he could say anything, Lelia brushed past him, her hand a light touch on his arm, and left the room.
Fabrizio looked at the package in his hands. He tore the paper open, revealing a soft knit sweater. He ran his fingers over the fabric, feeling entirely overwhelmed.
"Fabri, there you are," Rose called to him as she stepped out of her office. "Oh, Lelia gave you the sweater. Good. She spent two months working on it, you know. Completely neglected her job," she added lightheartedly.
"She made it?" He knew what they had both said but the idea that someone would make such an effort for him was hard to fathom.
"She did indeed," Rose said. She linked her arm with his and led him toward the exit. "So, you are going to love this place," she continued, excitement bubbling in her voice. "It's very upscale and they serve a special dessert just for Christmas."
"Great. That sound nice," Fabrizio agreed. But his thoughts were on Lelia.