CHAPTER ELEVEN
Before anyone in the mansion knew it, the end of August was upon them—and with it both the end of the negotiations between Warbucks Steel and the Thompson Corporation and, in very short order, the final shareholders vote on the merger.
Annie, Molly, Jack, and Emmeline were startled one afternoon to suddenly hear the POP!s of champagne bottles opening, cheers, clinking glasses, and hearty huzzahs emanating from the second floor boardroom. That could only mean that the proposed merger agreement was finally completed. An army of secretaries, their arms full of thick manila envelopes, suddenly flooded out of the offices and ran down the main staircase to post the documents to hundreds of corporate shareholders, who would have two weeks to review it before the Warbucks residence would host the final vote to approve it all.
But the children didn't really follow any of that. They were much more distracted by another change that brought much less jubilation: Emmeline's departure back to Massachusetts for the fall term at Smith College.
"I'll only be a letter away, girls!" she encouraged Annie and Molly, who were growing quite glum about their cousin's departure. "When you begin studying with a tutor in the fall, you can practice your spelling and penmanship by writing to me!"
"But when will you be back?" Molly pouted, her lower lip trembling.
"Probably not until the mid-term holiday in October. But I would be delighted if you would visit me before then! Perhaps you could convince Uncle Oliver and Aunt Grace to bring you for a visit. Heaven knows they could use a vacation, and Massachusetts is so lovely in the autumn."
As elated as Oliver and Grace were at the end of the negotiations with the Thompsons, they too were disappointed that Emmeline's time with them had drawn to a close. They'd had precious little time to spend with her during her stay, in spite of how helpful she had been to them, and both felt quite guilty about it.
Grace in particular found Emmeline's departure weighing heavily on her mind. With all of the hectic swirl around finalizing Annie's and then Molly's adoptions, finding families for the other orphans, conducting their investigation into the orphanage system, and supporting Oliver through the merger negotiations, she'd had hardly a spare moment to think about who would watch over Annie and Molly—and now Jack as well—when Emmeline left.
The children were not babies, and they didn't need constant supervision to protect them from danger. In that regard, Jack was actually proving to be quite a helpful addition to the household. She had witnessed more than one occasion when he had quietly talked Annie out of harebrained and potentially chaotic ideas, such as one dinner when Annie schemed aloud about calling the circus vendor from her adoption party to show up unannounced at the house as a surprise for Drake's birthday. Whenever a spell of quiet depression overtook Molly, as it sometimes did when something reminded her of her late parents, he had proven as adept as Annie at cheering the younger girl up. But all the same, the three of them were still children acclimating to a very different new life, and Grace felt uneasy with the idea of leaving them to their own devices all day long.
In addition, the fall—when she and Oliver had promised the other adoptive families they would make schooling arrangements for the former orphans—was rapidly approaching, and she felt sorely under-prepared. She hadn't been able to make time to outfit a wing of the house as a classroom, nor to hire tutors. And she was not about to hire just any tutors for the girls. Oliver's money would undoubtedly attract the best-qualified applicants in the city, but finding the right teachers was paramount: teachers with a great deal of patience who could gracefully adapt to their students' unique history and needs.
And, to her greatest chagrin, she and Oliver had not found any time to begin discussing plans for their wedding.
She had no idea what he was envisioning for the event. Society would have definite expectations for their wedding celebration: perhaps the grand ballroom at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, filled with the finest dresses and most elaborate flower arrangements, a guest list a mile long that included all of the most prominent New York elites, world leaders, and industry heads.
But she knew Oliver well enough to know that he would have little interest in such a party. He often resisted attending even the most basic of social functions, and over the course of the years she had sent far more regrets than acceptances on his behalf to the dozens of social invitations from New York's well-heeled citizenry that flooded into the mansion each day. But what would he want instead, if not that? She had no idea.
Nor, frankly, had she taken a moment to stop and think about what she herself actually wanted. Did she want the wedding that society would be envisioning for her, the bride of one of the country's wealthiest men? Did she want the most luxurious silk gown that Paris or Milan could offer, studded with diamonds and complemented with a hand-sewn Venetian lace veil? A ten-tiered wedding cake that could feed four hundred guests?
No, she knew quite firmly, she didn't. If she had her way, she and Oliver would take Annie and Molly up to her family's little church in Connecticut that very afternoon and, in the presence of their closest friends and family, make everything official as soon as possible.
Although the world would undoubtedly expect the party of the century for a Warbucks wedding, all she wanted—and she wanted it desperately—was simply to be Oliver's wife.
In the meantime, Emmeline was owed a great deal of gratitude for her help over the summer, and when asked how she wanted to spend her last evening at the mansion, Grace was thrilled that she requested a night out on the town with the family to attend a Broadway show.
"It's wonderful to see Broadway getting back on its feet again!" she exclaimed. "And it's been ever so long since I've seen a show! I saw an advertisement in the paper that The Pirates of Penzance is on at the Majestic Theater!"
The tickets were promptly procured, and Annie, Molly, and Jack were practically beside themselves with excitement. Even though Annie had fallen asleep in the middle of the first movie Grace and Oliver had taken her to see, she had gushed so eagerly about the thrill of going to Radio City Music Hall that the other children were bursting with anticipation. As they rushed down the stairs in the entrance hall, Annie and Molly in neatly pressed matching dresses and Jack looking quite dapper in a collared shirt and linen pants, the prospect of the whole little family spending the evening together brought a smile to everyone's face.
Until, that is, Drake shouted for Oliver's attention as they were nearly ready to walk out the front doors.
"Mr. Warbucks! Mr. Warbucks! Urgent telephone call from Boston, sir! The fighter-bomber factory—it's on fire!"
"What?" Oliver barked, his face instantly alarmed.
Drake leaned against the balustrade of the marble staircase, puffing with exertion after his sprint down the stairs. "The foreman was just on the line, sir. There seems to have been an explosion. Something to do with, er, combustion? I'm not really sure, sir. He was so panicked that he wasn't making a great deal of sense."
"Damnation!" Oliver cursed, scowling deeply. "I've got dozens of those planes on order for the Air Force! Get the foreman back on the line immediately, Drake—I've got to know how extensive the damage is."
He looked at Grace and the girls. Emmeline, Annie, Molly, and Jack were halfway out the door but had turned back as soon as they heard Drake shouting, and were standing there watching.
Grace immediately felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She could guess the words that were about to come out of his mouth. Before he could speak again, she interjected quietly, "Oliver, you promised them."
"I know," he said apologetically, keeping his voice down. "But you know how critical these bombers are, Grace. If there's going to be any delay in production at all, I've got to get in touch with the Secretary of War immediately to inform him."
Grace couldn't help the irritation that filtered into her voice. "I'm sure it would be fine if you called after we came home, Oliver. The man works all hours of the day and night anyway."
"That's beside the point. Congress is becoming more isolationist by the day. You know as well as I do that there are plenty of idiots on Capitol Hill eager for any excuse to cut defense procurement funding, even as instability in Europe and Asia looks more likely by the day."
"The world's problems will still be there after the show, Oliver."
"Grace, I'm as unhappy to hear about this fire as you are, I guarantee that!" he said angrily. Glancing back at the children, who were all watching them, he sighed and lowered his voice. "I'm sorry," he said gently but firmly, taking her hands in his and kissing her forehead. "I'll find another night to make it up to you all. But I've got to keep an eye on this situation, and I can't do that from the theater."
She didn't say anything for a long moment before dipping her head in the slightest of nods.
"Emmeline?" He turned to his niece. "I'm sorry, my dear. You know I wouldn't do this if it weren't exceptionally important. Can I ask for a rain check when you're next home from school?"
"Of course, Uncle Oliver," Emmeline said quietly. Annie and Molly were silent, both wearing unhappy expressions on their faces. Jack was watching them all sadly and frowning.
"I'm sorry, girls. Try to still have a good time at the show," he said, patting Annie and Molly's shoulders. "Don't not enjoy it on my account. You can tell me all about it when you get home."
With another regretful look at Grace, a silent plea for understanding, he followed Drake back up the staircase toward his office. Her eyes followed him until he disappeared from view, and she knew she wasn't doing a good job of masking the deep disappointment she felt.
Annie tugged the sleeve of her dress lightly. "We'll still go, won't we, Grace? Even if Daddy can't come?"
Grace looked back at Emmeline, Annie, Molly, and Jack and nodded, putting on as best a smile as she could muster.
"Of course we will, my dear. It's a shame that your father has to work, but we'll still have a wonderful time."
There was a clear droop in the children's shoulders as they filed out the front door into the warm night air, and their cheerful banter had all but ceased.
"Sorry, Annie," she heard Jack say quietly.
The excitement Grace herself had felt about the evening's excursion had all but dissipated. This was the one night in weeks they had planned to step away from the crush of their daily work, the one night they had to send Emmeline off and spend an enjoyable evening with the children, and Oliver wouldn't even be there. She realized with a twinge of bitterness that the day they had taken Annie and Molly to Coney Island nearly a month ago was the last time they had enjoyed any significant amount of free time with each other as a family. She hadn't even been able to find a few free hours in his calendar for the four of them to make a quick trip up to Connecticut to visit her brother Charlie at the veterans' home and have dinner with her family. There just never seemed to be enough time in his day.
The Asp had the town car waiting in the driveway, and he was about to prop the door open for them to climb inside when a voice called to them.
"Well, don't you all look spiffy!" It was Michael, strolling up the driveway from the main gate. "Where are you off to this evening looking all dolled up?"
"The theater," Molly said glumly.
Michael looked surprised at her tone and, upon drawing closer to them, noticed the sad expressions they all wore. "The theater? That sounds like grand fun. Why the long faces?"
"Uncle Oliver has to work," Emmeline said. "So he can't come with us tonight after all."
"Oh," Michael said, frowning. "I'm sorry. That must be very disappointing."
"It is disappointing, of course, but we're going to have a good time no matter what," Grace said, saying the words more for the children's sake than because she actually believed them. "What are your plans for the evening, Michael?"
"Nothing much," Michael said with a shrug. "When we thought Oliver was going to be preoccupied going out with you all, Cornelia and Father tucked in early. Now that I'm back from my evening walk along Fifth Avenue, I'll probably just catch up on the papers and call it a night."
"Do you wanna come to the theater with us?" Annie asked.
Grace looked quickly at Annie in surprise, and so did Michael.
"Come with you?" he repeated.
Annie looked at Grace for confirmation and shrugged her shoulders. "I mean, now we got an extra ticket since Daddy isn't coming, right?"
"Oh, thank you, Annie," Michael said quickly, "That's kind of you, but I don't want to intrude on your family evening. I'll try to catch a show sometime before we head back to Chicago. I've never had the chance to see anything on Broadway."
Grace smiled. "Well, Michael, if you've never seen a Broadway show, you certainly should come with us. We'd be happy to have you. And like I said when you first arrived, we've spent so much time together on this merger that you're practically family."
Grace was constantly amazed by the goodness of Annie's young heart. In spite of how unhappy the girl was that Oliver wasn't coming—and the disappointment she felt at her father's absence was still plainly written on her face—she never missed an opportunity to try to brighten someone else's day. Now that Annie had extended Michael an invitation, Grace couldn't very well retract it. And besides, Oliver would no doubt agree that building better relations with the Thompson family would be helpful for the future management of their shared corporation.
Michael looked flattered. "Are you sure? I sincerely wouldn't want to intrude."
"You should come," Emmeline said warmly. "The merger has kept everyone so busy the last few weeks. You haven't had many opportunities to see New York City since you got here, have you?"
"Hardly any," Michael admitted.
"Then it's settled," Grace said.
And, although Oliver's absence had cast a shadow over the evening's outing, the small group did manage to have fun. On the drive to the theater, Emmeline delighted in pointing out major landmarks and sights out the windows of the town car—a helpful knowledge of the city that not only Michael but also Annie, Molly, and Jack absorbed with amazement. The lights of the Empire State Building, the iconic Chrysler Building, and most of all the glitzy glamor of Times Square dazzled adults and children alike.
The stars had returned to Annie and Molly's eyes by the time the town car rolled up to the Majestic Theater on West 44th Street, and Grace smiled to herself. Everything would be all right as long as the children enjoyed themselves. As she and Michael joined them in the concessions line to purchase popcorn and as the curtain drew up to the stirring tunes of pirates gallivanting off the English coastline, she felt grateful that the evening would not be a complete loss.
It was past eleven o'clock by the time the town car again pulled up in the driveway of the mansion. The stars glimmered merrily in the sky, and the sounds of crickets chirping echoed faintly across the green lawns. The entrance hall was silent as the tired group traipsed back inside. Emmeline bid a quiet good night to the others before taking Jack's hand to lead him to Mrs. Pugh's room in the staff residential wing. Annie was rubbing her eyes in exhaustion, and Michael carried a lightly snoring Molly, who had fallen asleep on the ride home, in his arms.
"Would you mind carrying her up the stairs to their room?" Grace asked in a hushed tone. "I can call for Punjab if she's too heavy."
"No, not at all—lead the way."
They made their way slowly up the stairs. Glancing up as they approached the second floor landing, Grace saw Oliver emerge out of one of the offices lining the hall and look down at them. He wore an odd expression on his face, his mouth a firmly set line and his brows furrowed.
Her heart sank. The news from the factory must be bad.
"Hi, Daddy," Annie whispered with a smile as they reached the second floor landing. His gaze lingered on Grace and Michael for a long moment before he looked down at her.
"Did you have a good time tonight?"
Annie nodded. "The show was real funny! And my ears are still ringin' from the music! But it woulda been even better if you were there."
He glanced back up, his eyes meeting Michael's. "Well, at least it seems my ticket wasn't wasted."
Grace felt a twinge of irritation and raised an eyebrow. Was Oliver really going to be difficult about the fact that Michael had gone with them to the theater? After all, it had been his own decision to stay behind at the house. But for some reason he was looking at Michael with a downright scowl on his face.
Fortunately, Michael seemed as unflappable as ever and merely smiled. "It was generous of you all to let me come. Where shall I deposit this little one?"
"I'll take her," Oliver said immediately, and Michael gratefully passed the child into Oliver's arms. Molly sighed dreamily in her sleep.
"Good night," Michael said with a smile. "Thank you again for the invitation—it was great fun. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Night," Annie said.
"Good night, Michael," Grace said with a smile. "Thank you for joining us."
As they walked toward Annie and Molly's room, Molly again snoring in Oliver's arms, she heard him mutter, "Since when was he coming to the show?"
"Well, he wasn't originally," Grace said quietly, knowing that an undertone of annoyance had crept into her voice. "When you decided not to come, Annie invited him." Reaching the girls' room, she pushed the door open and ushered them all inside.
Just as they had the night they had taken Annie to the movies for the first time, Oliver and Grace silently lay Molly down and changed her into her nightgown while Annie clambered into her own bed, yawning widely. Sandy, thrilled that everyone was home again, hopped up on the bed and laid his head across Annie's stomach.
As they each dropped a kiss on both girls' foreheads and gently squeezed their hands goodnight, Annie whispered drowsily, "It woulda been real swell if ya had come, Daddy—maybe can we go again for my birthday?"
In spite of how irritated Grace had felt with him all evening—up to and including the last few minutes when he had been so rude in front of Michael—she felt a sudden surge of remorse at the saddened look on Oliver's face as he assured Annie that he would love to go with her next time, and promised her that there would indeed be a next time.
She sighed. So often he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. He had been working nonstop for the last month with barely a break, and the last thing he needed from Annie—or from his fiancée, she had to admit—was a guilt trip. As much as she and the girls missed him, she knew this breakneck pace was hard on him too.
Stepping back into the hall and shutting the bedroom door quietly behind them, Grace resolved to take a deep breath and put the evening behind her. She took Oliver's hand in hers and leaned up to kiss his cheek.
"How is the factory?"
"It could have been worse," he said, his voice tight as they walked back down the hall. "The fire crews were able to largely contain the damage from spreading beyond the engine rooms, and there were no injuries other than a few minor burns. But I still had to telephone the Secretary of War and tell him there would be a production delay of at least a few months."
She sighed. "That's unfortunate. I know that's the last thing you wanted to worry about, amid everything else."
"Well, these things never happen when the timing is convenient."
They had reached the threshold of her suite. He still looked unhappy, and she could feel the tension emanating off him.
"Oliver, I'm sorry," she said, holding his hands in hers. "I've been so short with you tonight. I know this wasn't your fault. We were disappointed not to have you with us. The girls missed you, and I did too. But it wasn't fair to blame you."
"You know it wasn't an easy choice to stay behind," he said quietly. "I wouldn't have, if it weren't so important."
"I know." She squeezed his hands gently, catching his dark eyes with hers. "It's late, my love. Come to bed?"
She could tell he was about to push back, and he motioned ever so briefly as if to turn back in the direction of the office. She merely caressed the palm of his hand with her fingertips, waiting.
After a long moment, his gaze met hers again. Something in his expression still looked troubled, and she was about to ask what else was bothering him when he drew her close, his arms closing around her tightly. She felt a rush of relief as his lips met hers, and it was several long minutes later before she managed to open the door to her suite, pull him inside, and shut the door behind them with all thoughts of the evening's tension gone from her mind.