CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The following morning dawned sunny and warm in Charles Town, West Virginia. Annie awoke early, feeling refreshed even though her back and shoulders ached from sleeping on the thin cot over the hard wooden floor. She insisted on accompanying Tommy and Lucy out to the barn to help with their morning chores, and by the time the three of them traipsed back into the kitchen an hour later carrying a basket of eggs from the chicken coop and a pail of fresh milk, she felt as if she had been friends with Tommy and Lucy Smith for years.
However, as the children tucked into their buttered toast and fried eggs, she felt butterflies begin to flutter in her stomach again. She was eager to get on her way, knowing she still had hours of travel in front of her to make it to Washington.
"Gonna be a real pretty day out there," Arthur said as he came in through the back door and wiped sweat off his forehead. "Fog's burned away and there ain't a cloud in the sky."
Lucy looked glumly at her father. "Daddy, when you gonna drive Molly back to the train station? I wanna come say goodbye."
"I think that's a nice idea, Lucy," Macy said. "In fact, we'll all go to make sure Molly gets on the train safely, won't we?"
"Aw," Annie said with a smile. "That's real kind of you folks."
"Well," Arthur said, almost hesitantly, "let me tell you all what I've been thinkin'. Why don't we fire up the ol' jalopy and take Miss Molly down to Washington ourselves?"
Lucy and Tommy immediately turned to stare at their father in surprise before all three children leapt up out of their chairs, whooping with excitement.
"Wow, Washington!" Lucy exclaimed. "I ain't never been to such a big city! Can we, Momma? Can we, please?"
"Can we go to see the Washington Monument?" Tommy asked excitedly. "Can we drive by the White House? Maybe we'll see President Roosevelt!"
Macy gave Arthur an exasperated look, as if she wished he hadn't said anything at all.
"Arthur," she said quietly, "Washington's kinda far away. Do we have enough money for gas to make it there and back?"
"You can have my train fare," Annie said immediately. "If I'm not goin' on the train, I won't need the extra money I brought along!" And, she thought to herself, once they got to Washington she was sure Grace could make sure the Smiths had enough money to get home.
"Please, Momma?" Lucy and Tommy were both begging as they clamored for her approval.
"A road trip won't hurt nobody, Macy," Arthur said quietly. "The kids could use a little cheerin' up. These hard times ain't been easy on them."
Macy sighed. "All right. Tommy, you go on out to the jalopy and give the windows a good shine. Lucy and Molly, you girls can help me boil up some eggs to take along for lunch."
"Yes, ma'am!" Annie hollered joyfully, jumping up out of her chair. She felt suddenly elated about the prospect of spending more time with her new friends, and the butterflies in her stomach fluttered away without a second thought.
Grace Farrell, on the other hand, was feeling decidedly not elated as that crisp autumn morning bathed Washington's white marble monuments and ornate columned federal buildings in a warm light.
She had barely slept at all, tossing and turning in her bed as the hours of the night ticked by at a snail's pace. She had left firm instructions with the hotel's night clerk that she must be awoken immediately, no matter the hour, if a message came in that Annie had been found, and she had jolted awake every time she heard the creak of a footstep in the hall or the murmur of voices from other hotel guests. On the rare occasions she managed to drift off into a fitful sleep, she had often been startled awake by nightmares of all the terrible things that might have happened to Annie.
When the morning finally arrived, she called the Warbucks mansion desperate for news. However, Drake let her know that Oliver was on the other line at that moment with J. Edgar Hoover, who had nothing new to report.
Steeling herself for what she knew would be a dreadfully long day, with a heavy heart she headed down to the White House. It was fortunate that the President's planned state visit with the Spanish Prime Minister happened to fall on that day. The hubbub and excitement surrounding a major foreign leader's visit to the White House was an all-consuming affair that would help distract her from her distress. Joining forces with the other East Wing secretaries frantically typing final copies of the First Lady's remarks for the events with the press corps, her notes and suggested discussion points for the private meetings with the Prime Minister, and the arrangements for his onward travel with the Roosevelts up to Hyde Park was more than enough to keep Grace busy, although the underlying feeling of panic never entirely left her.
Not until midmorning, that is, when she happened to glance out the window of the East Wing office suite and promptly dropped the large bundle of newspapers she was carrying.
"Oh, my God," she gasped.
Without a moment's pause she shot out of the room, rushing past the President and First Lady who were coming out of the Oval Office and leaving behind her the startled stares of dozens of White House staffers.
Grace had spotted the young girl stepping out of the battered old pickup truck as soon as her feet hit the sidewalk in front of the White House visitor entrance, and the Secret Service officer in the guard booth had barely had time to call in on his radio that the lost child they were all looking for had appeared before Grace's shouted cries broke the quiet air.
"Annie! Annie!"
Racing toward the young girl as fast as her feet could carry her, entirely not caring that her heels and stockings were splattering with dew from the lawn, she finally felt her arms close around the girl she had feared was lost forever.
"Annie!" she exclaimed, squeezing her as hard as she could as a great wave of relief flooded through her and tears filled her eyes. "Oh, Annie, thank God you're here!"
"I'm sorry, Grace," Annie was crying too as she clung to Grace tightly. "Were ya worried? I didn't mean to make ya worry, honest!"
"Of course we were worried, honey," Grace choked, wiping her eyes as she beheld the girl in front of her and looked her up and down. She realized with a jolt of surprise that Annie was wearing the same faded checkered dress and worn red sweater she had been wearing the first time Grace had met her at the orphanage all those months ago. "Are you all right? Are you hurt? Where in the world have you been?"
"I'm okay," Annie reassured her. "It's kinda a long story—"
"Annie!" came the unmistakable voice of President Roosevelt from the direction of the White House. She and Grace turned to see the President, First Lady, and a handful of staff making their way toward them over the lawn. "Annie, thank the Lord you've finally made your appearance!"
"Thank you, President Roosevelt," Annie said, hanging her head in shame. "I didn't mean to be gone for so long, but I kinda got lost on my way here."
"You've given all of us a terrible scare, young lady," Eleanor said sternly, but there was relief in her eyes as well.
"I know, and I'm real sorry," Annie said quietly. She looked up at Grace in concern. "What about Daddy? Is he … ?"
"He's absolutely out of his mind," Grace said, squeezing Annie's hand comfortingly. "He's had every policeman between here and New York looking for you all night long. Come inside, my dear—we've got to call him right away and let him know you're safe."
"Wait," Annie said immediately. She motioned behind her, and for the first time Grace registered the young family standing awkwardly out on the sidewalk and watching the entire scene unfolding before them in bewilderment. "Grace, Mr. President, Mrs. Roosevelt, these are the Smiths. They helped me when I got lost in West Virginia—"
"West Virginia?!" Grace gasped.
"—and they took real good care of me and brought me here safe and sound." She walked over to the Smiths and, taking their young daughter's and son's hands, gently pulled them forward. "I'm sorry I lied to you about my name. You see, my name's not really Molly. It's Annie. Annie Warbucks."
Comprehension dawned in the young girl's face as her parents exchanged astonished glances. "Annie Warbucks?! Hey, I heard your name on the radio once!"
"Weren't you that orphan girl that wanted to find her parents, and then got kidnapped and almost fell off a bridge?" the boy cried, his face alight with excitement.
"Yup, that's me," Annie said. She turned to give the President and First Lady a meaningful look. "Mr. President, Mrs. Roosevelt, while me and Grace call my daddy and let him know I'm here, I wondered if maybe you could talk to the Smiths about West Virginia?"
"About West Virginia, dear?" Eleanor asked, surprised.
"Tell them, Mr. and Mrs. Smith!" Annie urged, looking back at the Smiths who appeared positively flummoxed. It wasn't every day, Grace supposed, that an impoverished family from West Virginia managed to find themselves staring the President and First Lady in the face on the White House lawn. "Tell 'em about how all the coal miners down in West Virginia are broke, and gettin' injured all the time, and ain't even got doctors to help 'em take care of the black lung!"
"Oh, Molly—er, I mean Annie," Mr. Smith stammered, turning beet red as his gaze skipped between her and the Roosevelts. "It's mighty kind of you to be concerned, but really, I'm sure the President has more important things to do than talk to simple folks like us."
"Well, Mr. Smith, I'm honored by your consideration for my schedule," Roosevelt said with a twinkle in his eye, "but I think the least we can do for you folks as thanks for bringing Annie safely back is to share some of our time. After all, elected by the people, for the people, and all that!"
His wife also turned a warm smile toward the Smiths. "As it happens, the President and I actually have a special interest in the plight of West Virginia. If you'll follow us inside, we're all ears."
Lucy and Tommy were only too happy to chat the Roosevelts' ears off as they strolled into the White House alongside the President and First Lady, even as the President's staffers panicked audibly behind them while they crossed meetings off his schedule to make space for the impromptu visitors. As the party slowly made its way inside the White House, Grace took Annie's hand and pulled her into an empty office.
Perhaps fearing that a severe scolding was about to come her way now that the two of them were alone, Annie cast her eyes down at the floor in shame.
"I'm real sorry I ran away, Grace," she said softly.
Grace sighed deeply, pulling the young girl into another hug and squeezing her tightly as tears fell from her eyes again.
"Annie, how could you do something so dangerous?" she choked out. "I can't begin to tell you how worried we've been, wondering about all the awful things that might have happened to you."
"I know I shouldn't have done it, Grace," Annie said. "But I thought it was the only way."
Grace beheld her in confusion. "The only way to what, my dear?"
"The only way to bring you and Daddy back together again," Annie said quietly. Her blue eyes were swimming with tears, and Grace's heart suddenly felt as if it had broken all over again.
"Annie …"
"I just thought," Annie said, her voice growing more insistent, "if you had the chance to talk face to face, you could tell him once and for all that you don't love Michael Thompson and that you only love him, and then we could be a family again! He's been real blue since you left—"
Grace couldn't take it anymore.
"Annie, please, stop," she said in a strangled voice, feeling perilously close to losing her composure. She grasped Annie's hands in hers and squeezed them tightly. "You have such a big heart, my dear. It's what I've always loved the very most about you." She tried to smile weakly through watery eyes, but knew she couldn't mask the sadness she felt. "Annie, please believe me: there is nothing I want more than for all of us to be a family."
Annie's face fell. "But … ?"
"But," Grace said quietly, "I can't force your father to believe me when I say that nothing in those newspaper stories was true. And if he can't bring himself to trust me, that's no foundation for a happy marriage, or a happy family."
"But you gotta try again, Grace!" Annie cried as her lower lip began to tremble once more. "You just gotta try again! Otherwise, he's gonna get married to someone else!"
Well, if there was anything Annie might have said that would have brought Grace up short completely, it was that. She stared at the young girl in surprise, barely blinking.
"What?"
"I heard him talkin' to Aunt Margaret," Annie said, her voice thick with emotion. "He said me and Molly need a mom to raise us, so she's gonna introduce him to some of her friends and he's gonna pick one of them to marry."
It was fortunate that there was a chair behind Grace, because she sank down onto it as she felt the blood rush from her head.
"He said that?" she whispered.
Annie nodded.
For a long moment, Grace's mind was blank. Could Annie be right? Good Lord, she had only left the mansion a week ago! How could Oliver possibly already be thinking about marrying someone else, when she felt barely functional enough to get through the day? Then, in an instant, her imagination was spiraling faster than she could control it. In her mind's eye she could see Oliver promising to love and cherish another woman for the rest of his life, Oliver kissing another woman good morning and making love to her at night, another woman raising Annie and Molly and watching them grow up, another woman bearing Oliver's own children. The thought made her feel sick.
Annie was quiet, watching her in concern.
"Anyone else would be all wrong for him, Grace, and you know it," she said softly. "I know I'm just a kid and it's none of my business, but …" She took Grace's hands in her own and looked at her earnestly. "I also know you've loved Daddy for a long, long time. Isn't it worth it to try again? You just gotta."
Molly and Jack watched glumly from the second floor landing of the main staircase as the hubbub in the Warbucks mansion rose to a crescendo pitch. The final vote to approve or reject the Warbucks-Thompson steel merger was scheduled to take place there that evening, and dozens of staffers and executives were rushing through the halls of the mansion like chickens with their heads cut off.
What's more, there had still been no word as to Annie's whereabouts. Both children had awoken hopeful that the morning light would finally bring some much-needed good news, but despair was starting to creep back in again as the morning wore on and no word from Annie made its way to the house.
"What if she's gone forever, Jack?" Molly whimpered, guilt overwhelming her yet again as she buried her face in her hands and cried. "What if she died somewhere out there all alone and it's all our fault?"
Even Jack had to admit that his confidence in Annie's abilities was starting to wane the longer that she was missing.
"She's gonna be all right, Molly," he said, trying his best to sound comforting. "I bet she just got a little turned around, that's all." But he too sighed anxiously, casting an impatient glance around the bustling activity filling the first floor of the mansion.
"Sorry to ask you to move, kids," came a voice behind them, and they turned to see a handful of the cleaning staff depositing mops and buckets of soapy water on the marble floor. "But we've gotta get this floor cleaned before the big meeting tonight."
Jack sighed and pulled Molly to her feet. "Come on, let's go to the library. I'll find somethin' to read to you and we'll go sit outside."
"Daddy said we're not allowed to play in the library anymore after we almost broke the gramophone recording our own voices, remember?" Molly said glumly.
"That's why we're not gonna play in there," Jack said. "We'll just get a book and go."
Molly allowed herself to be led into the library, where she looked listlessly through the collection of gramophone records on the large music cart bearing the shiny turntable while Jack examined the floor-to-ceiling shelves of books lining the walls. Unfortunately, Oliver Warbucks's book collection contained few books that appealed to young children, and since Grace's departure none of the adults in the house had made time to take the children to the bookstore or library.
Jack was about to suggest abandoning the room full of leather-bound tomes on European history and aeronautical engineering in favor of rereading Treasure Island when the latch on the library door audibly clicked and it started to swing open.
With a panicked look at each other, Jack and Molly both dove behind the gramophone cart out of sight. Was Oliver coming in for a moment's peace in the library, which at present was probably the only quiet room in the entire mansion? If so, he might not be pleased to find the children there after expressly telling them the library was off-limits.
But no, it wasn't Oliver. It was Cornelia Thompson, and evidently she hadn't spotted the children hiding behind the gramophone cart. She glanced around the room briefly and, seeing no one, dialed a number from one of the telephones on Oliver's stately mahogany desk.
"Michael? It's me."
Molly and Jack both perked their ears in her direction from behind the gramophone. Michael Thompson's name hadn't been spoken aloud in the mansion since the morning the newspaper stories had come out.
"To tell you the truth, it's an absolute madhouse over here. There are only a few hours left until the shareholders vote and no one has any idea what will happen. Oliver's executives are all looking to him for direction on how to vote, but he hasn't issued any instructions at all." There was silence as she listened to Michael on the other end of the line. "Well, Father is still trying to convince our own shareholders to vote in favor. But by my own count, a sizeable number are planning to vote no. They're still raising questions about the newspaper stories and saying it's too much of a reputational risk for our company. If even a fraction of Oliver's men vote no, I think we stand a real chance of blocking the whole thing."
Jack threw a puzzled glance at Molly, who looked equally confused.
"I thought she wanted the deal to pass," he whispered. Molly shushed him as Cornelia began speaking again.
"Well, as far as I can tell Oliver is still torn because he wants nothing to do with our family. It's been plain as day ever since Miss Farrell left. He has barely spoken to Father and even less so to me. But that's not why I'm calling, Michael. Listen, we've got a bit of a problem on our hands. I spoke with Donatelli this morning. It seems that his reporter friend wants more money for running those stories about you and Miss Farrell."
Jack and Molly both whipped their heads around to stare at each other in surprise. Michael's reaction on the other end of the line must have been similar to their own, because Cornelia began speaking faster with an undercurrent of panic in her voice.
"Apparently he's getting cold feet," she said tightly. "He's worried that Oliver will try to get him fired from the newspaper if it comes out that we paid for those stories to publish. Apparently Oliver has been doing that for months, threatening newspaper editors and owners and demanding that they fire the reporters who have been harassing him and the orphan brats in the gossip columns."
Molly looked about ready to leap to her feet and launch herself in rage at Cornelia. So that was the truth they had been hoping against hope to discover! Grabbing the girl's arm and holding her steady, however, Jack held a finger to his lips. Reaching up over his head, he silently grasped the handle of the gramophone and began slowly turning it counter-clockwise.
"Donatelli said he's asking for $25,000 more," Cornelia was saying as the gramophone record began to spin slowly on the turntable, picking up her every word. "If we refuse, he said the reporter is threatening to issue a retraction in this evening's paper. He wants the extra cash as an insurance policy in case Oliver comes after his job."
Michael's reply on the other end of the line was too unintelligible to hear clearly, but it sounded as if he was shouting in anger.
Cornelia was growing more and more exasperated. "Michael, you know that I don't trust Donatelli either! But we're in somewhat of a delicate situation here! What choice do we have? We can't risk the paper issuing a retraction and saying the story about you and Miss Farrell was a sham before the shareholders vote tonight. It's the only thing we've tried that has proven to have a real chance of shutting down the merger once and for all."
She was quiet for a long moment as she listened to Michael's agitated reply.
"Michael, please try to calm down. We only need to hold him off until after the vote. At that point, even if the paper retracts the story it'll be too late. Just wire me the money as soon as you can." She took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. "We're so close, Michael. We just need to see this through to the end."
Cornelia had barely left the library and closed the door behind her before Molly exploded out of the corner of the room like a firecracker, her face red and her fists balled in anger.
"Oh boy, that lady is gonna get it!" she cried. "Annie and me knew there was somethin' fishy about the newspaper stories, we just knew it!"
"Come on," Jack said hurriedly, lifting the stylus of the gramophone and gingerly picking up the smooth black disc. He glanced at it in alarm. "Uh oh, it looks like we recorded over your dad's Louis Armstrong album."
Molly was already running toward the door of the library. "I think he can afford a new one! Come on, Jack, we gotta go find him—"
Her words ended in a loud cry as the library door swung open again in front of her and Cornelia Thompson walked right into her, sending the young girl tumbling onto the floor and the woman reeling back in surprise.
"Molly! Jack!" Cornelia exclaimed, staring at them in shock as Molly scrambled back to her feet. "I just realized I left my glasses in …" Her voice trailed off as her piercing eyes suddenly narrowed and stared down at them. "What are you two doing in here?"
"Nothing," both children said immediately.
"How long have you been in here?" she demanded threateningly, taking a step closer toward them. Then her eyes landed on the gramophone record in Jack's hands, and a hard look of suspicion fleeted across her sharp features. "What's that?"
"It's Louis Armstrong, and we were just leaving!" Jack said hurriedly, pushing Molly in front of him out the door and rushing out after her.
"You come back here right now and give me that!" Cornelia hissed, reaching for them but grabbing only air as Jack and Molly tore out of the library.
Running as quickly as they could, Jack and Molly were nearly halfway across the second floor landing headed in the direction of Oliver's office when they both suddenly felt their feet slide out from underneath them and shrieked as they landed hard on the wet and soapy marble floor. The cleaning staff, who were mopping energetically to clean scuff marks and footprints off the gleaming tiles, jumped in surprise as the children tried to scramble back to their feet and slipped again on the slick surface.
"You brats give that to me this instant!" Suddenly Cornelia was right behind them, and she snatched the gramophone record out of Jack's hands.
"No!" Molly shrieked, trying to scramble to her feet but slipping back onto the floor as her feet struggled to find traction. "Give it back! We heard what you said, we heard everything!"
"If this is what I think it is," Cornelia snarled as she struggled with Jack, who was trying desperately to grab the record back before she could snap it in two, "there's no way this is ever going to be played agai—"
But suddenly there was motion and noise all around them. A huge brown and shaggy blur flew out of nowhere and launched itself at Cornelia, yelping angrily and—barking! Molly and Jack stared in shock as Sandy's force pushed Cornelia away from Jack, knocking her hard onto the floor and sending the record flying into the air. Cornelia's shrieks filled the entrance hall accompanied by Sandy's furious barking, bringing harried voices and footsteps running to see what all the fuss was about.
"What the devil is going on here?!"
All eyes turned just in time to see Oliver Warbucks and Edward Thompson rushing toward the scene of the disaster, staring in wide-eyed confusion at the sight before them: Jack splayed on the floor and covered in soapy water, Cornelia still pinned down and fighting to push a furiously barking Sandy off her, and Molly, her hair full of suds but finally standing on her feet and clutching a gramophone record in her arms.
"Molly! Jack!" Oliver was staring back and forth between them in disbelief. "What in tarnation happened here?"
For a moment, it appeared Molly was going to burst into tears and shrink before the accusing stares of the dozens of people now filling the hall and gawking at her. But Jack grinned when he saw her set her shoulders and stand up to her full height.
"Daddy," she demanded, "this time you gotta listen to us! The whole story with Grace and Michael Thompson was a big phoney baloney!" She held up the record proudly. "And we've got proof!"
And it was so proven mere moments later when Oliver heard Cornelia's words spill out once again over the library gramophone. Molly and Jack watched him as he listened to the recording in stunned silence, the color draining from his face as the gravity of the mistake he had made finally sank in.
"She was telling the truth," he breathed, more to himself than to anyone else in the room. He slowly buried his face in his hands. "Of course she was telling the truth."
"Cornelia, how could you do something so shameful?" Edward Thompson was shouting, red-faced and furious, at his daughter. "I ordered you and Michael to follow my direction and put aside your reservations about the merger, but you deliberately disobeyed me! Do you have any idea the problems you've caused?"
"Mr. Warbucks! Mr. Warbucks!"
Their heads all turned in surprise as a panting and wheezing Drake pushed his way through the crowd of onlookers gathered around the gramophone, elbowing the Thompsons, aides, and household staff aside in his desperation to reach his employer.
"Mr. Warbucks! Miss Farrell just called from the White House. It's Annie! She's there! She's there and she's all right!"
A great cheer of relief went up around the room. But Molly was watching her father, who slowly turned to meet her little brown eyes with a new determination in his own.
"Molly," he choked out, taking her hands in his and squeezing them tightly, "let's go bring our family home."
And in an instant, the two of them were running out of the library as fast as they could, and Oliver was bellowing at the top of his lungs, "PUNJAB! ASP! GET THE AUTOCOPTER READY!"