Winter
Sarah had wanted the walk shoveled so Pat found himself fighting a losing battle against the snow that continued to fall. He thought it would've been easier to wait until the weather cleared but he kept those thoughts to himself. His relationship was already on thin ice thanks to the previous two years and he was afraid of doing anything to jeopardize it further. He looked back the way he had come and sighed. The clear pavement was already covered in white once again. He was going to be out there all day.
The front door opened and Eileen slipped out, bundled up against the cold, and trudged her way through the snow toward him. She held her hands tightly together, opening them when she neared to reveal a cookie.
"It's still warm," she said, handing him the cookie.
"Thank ye."
"I made it myself."
"All by yerself?" He took a bite.
"Mom helped a bit but mostly."
"It's very good."
Eileen nodded. "What are you doing?"
"Shovelin' the walk."
She looked at the ground then back toward the house. "Doesn't look like it."
"Would ye like to take over?"
"No, I have to make more cookies."
Pat laughed. "Well, ye best get to it then."
"Okay," Eileen replied. "I'll bring you another one." She turned to go back inside and gasped. "A deer!"
He followed her gaze and nearly swore. A full grown moose stood next to the corner of the house, curiously watching them. He immediately grabbed Eileen's coat to keep her from running forward.
The moose snorted and stamped his forefeet into the snow.
"He's so pretty," she said. "Can we—"
"I need ye to stay behind me."
"But—"
Ignoring her protestations, Pat shoved her behind him. He knew that there were moose in the woods—John often spoke of seeing them—but in all of his years living there, he had never seen one himself. In fact, he had even started believing that John had been making things up. But the large animal standing nearby was unmistakably a moose. Pat watched him in awe. He had known they were large but never realized just how big. He might've just come up to the animal's shoulders.
The moose flicked its ears back and snorted a second time. Then, without warning, it charged toward them—Eileen screamed—stopping several feet short. With an irritated huff, it slowly turned away.
Sarah appeared in the doorway, looking concerned. "Is everything—"
Pat held up a hand to stop her. He pointed to the moose who was slowly walking away.
"Mom!" Eileen tried to run inside but he held her back.
"Let's allow him a bit of space to be on his way first."
They waited until the moose had disappeared around the house. Then Pat took Eileen's hand and walked her inside.
"Mom, guess what?" Her fear had vanished, being replaced by excitement. "We almost died. Did you see it? It was so big. Do you think he'll come back? I hope so. Can we name him Turkey?" She spoke in a rapid stream as she pulled off her coat and boots. "Then we'll have a turkey who's Moose and a moose who's Turkey."
Sarah listened patiently, a smile on her face. "That sounds like a wonderful idea," she said.
Eileen slapped her forehead. "I forgot I was making cookies." She raced into the kitchen.
"I'll finish shoveling after the snow stops," Pat said. "If that's alright with ye."
"Probably a good idea," she said, giving him a kiss. "At least until there's less moose about. Wouldn't want you to get eaten."
"Moose don't eat people."
"I imagine they're fairly hungry this time of year," she said. "Might make an exception."
Pat laughed. "And then ye'll have to do the shovelin'."
"John, you mean."
With the new baby, Cal was no longer able to drive them to and from school every single day—an exception being made for bad weather. Tommy didn't see why a baby made much difference. Henry and Bridget certainly hadn't taken up any of Hugh's time when they were first born. But, new child or not, Tommy was happy. Walking made it much easier to play hooky or delay returning home.
School had let out fifteen minutes earlier and everyone had already started walking home. Tommy lingered behind, still undecided on whether or not he was going to join them. At the very least, the snowy landscape called out for a long detour. He walked slowly around the school building as he considered.
As he turned a corner, he ran into Henry, sitting on a bench crying.
Henry quickly wiped his eyes. "I wasn't crying."
"Of course not." It took Tommy everything he had not to roll his eyes. "Where's your gloves? You know mom's going to kill you if you lose them."
Henry's fingers were red from the cold and he quickly hid them inside his sleeves. He shook his head, the tears starting up again.
"Fine, let mom kill you then. See if I care." Tommy turned to leave.
"Wait." Henry jumped to his feet. "Alvin and Billy threw them up there," he said, pointing to the roof of the school.
Tommy stepped up onto the bench. He could make out the gloves sitting near the edge, already covered by a layer of newly fallen snow. "You have to stop crying. They're just gloves."
That was apparently the wrong thing to say as Henry only cried harder.
"Hold on." Tommy carefully pulled himself up a nearby tree. He shimmied along a branch and then dropped onto the roof. The shingles were covered in ice and snow and he slid more than crawled to the edge. He picked up the gloves, brushed the snow from them, and was about to toss them down when he saw someone approach Henry. The other boy said something that he couldn't make out and then pushed his brother into the snow.
"Hey!" Tommy slipped in his haste to get down, cutting his hand on the edge. He swore as he climbed down the tree. The bully looked at him then immediately took off. Tommy picked up a chunk of ice that had fallen off the roof and chucked it at him. "Damn it, missed," he muttered. "Here." He tossed the gloves to his brother.
"You got blood on them," Henry said, pulling them on anyway.
"Would you rather have no gloves at all?"
Henry shook his head.
"Why are you even here?" Tommy asked. "You're supposed to be walking with Bridget."
"She went with Eileen," Henry replied. "They were talking about girl stuff so I was waiting to walk with you."
"I don't know if I'm even going home."
"Oh." Henry kicked at the snow.
Tommy sighed. "Well, come on then," he said after a moment. "Mom will worry otherwise." He immediately started for home.
"Cal too." Henry hurried to catch up to him.
Tommy scooped up a handful of snow and pressed it to the cut on his hand. It didn't look deep but still stung. "You really like him?" He asked after a moment.
"You don't?"
"I don't hate him," Tommy said with a shrug. "I just…I don't trust him."
"Why? He's really nice."
"For now."
Henry looked at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Hugh was really nice too." Tommy couldn't actually remember a time when Hugh was nice but he assumed that he must have been. His mother wouldn't have married him otherwise.
"No, he wasn't."
"That's not what I meant…just never mind." If Henry wanted to like Cal, Tommy was willing to let him like him, at least until it was time to say 'I told you so.'
Sarah was keeping her eyes out for places that were hiring. There weren't many and the few openings she found seemed to be snatched up quickly, often before Pat had a chance to apply. The tough situation was only made worse by the hundreds and hundreds of families who endlessly streamed into Spokane, hoping for opportunities that couldn't be found anywhere to the east.
She did notice that the postings that seemed to stay open the longest were those that specifically sought women—seamstresses, typists, nurses, and the like. She thought she might've had a chance at one of those jobs—not forever, of course, just something temporary until Pat found a job of his own—but she was reluctant to bring the subject up. The last time she mentioned working, he had been so against the idea. She even wondered if that argument had been what had pushed him into leaving. To work in the mine. But, as always, they still needed the money.
Sarah waited until after dinner. Eileen was busy doing schoolwork in the other room while she washed the dishes and Pat dried them. "Sosco is hiring typists," she said, trying to sound as casual as possible.
"Are they?" Pat carefully dried a glass and set it on the counter. "What's Sosco?"
"I think they sell office supplies," she replied. She took a deep breath before continuing. "I thought I might apply."
"Ye don't know how to type."
"You don't have to call me stupid."
"I'm not and I didn't," Pat was quick to say. "Sarah, ye can give it a go if ye fancy, but I reckon ye'd be throwin' away yer time. Ye can't be a typist if ye can't type."
"I thought I might learn on the job." While she had never used a typewriter before she had seen them in stores. She couldn't imagine they'd be very difficult to use. The buttons were labeled, after all. All anyone had to do was press them in the correct order. But maybe he was right. She sighed. "I just want to do something," she admitted.
Pat set his towel down and wrapped his arms around her from behind. "I know and I'm sorry. Truly, I wasn't callin' ye stupid. We both know yer much cleverer than me." He kissed her cheek.
The following day, Sarah came home from visiting Kate to find a typewriter sitting on the kitchen table. Utterly perplexed, she ran her fingers over the metal keys.
"I thought ye could learn before ye apply," Pat said, coming up beside her. "There's a manual that I think tells ye what to do and I even bought ye some paper to practice on."
She quickly took her hand away. "We can't afford this. I mean it's sweet of you but—"
"Sarah," he cut her off. "Ye don't need to be frettin' about the money."
"You found a job?"
"No." He shifted uncomfortably. "I borrowed money from Cal." He looked at the typewriter then back at his wife. "So I reckon this means that he bought this for ye, not me."
Sarah looked at him in surprise. Pat, who had once so adamantly refused to accept money from anyone, who'd rather isolate himself than take 'charity,' had borrowed money. For a moment she thought she must've misheard. "No, you bought it for me," she said at last, wrapping her arms around him. "I love you so much."
"Sisco would be lucky to have ye."
She kissed him. "Sosco."
Every morning when John stepped outside of the boarding house he stayed at, Helen was waiting for him. She hovered around the post office while he worked and waited until he was off so he could walk her home. He learned quickly that it was either that or she'd follow him back to his own residence. It didn't matter how many times he told her that she was very nice but he wasn't interested. She simply ignored what she didn't want to hear.
But then he received a letter from Jimmy, stating that he and Dottie were engaged. John read it three times but the words never changed. It must've been a joke. Dottie never seemed much like the marrying type and he never really believed that she was going steady with Jimmy in the first place. After the fourth read-through, John immediately packed a bag. Something strange was clearly going on and he needed to see for himself.
The moment he stepped outside, true to form, Helen was waiting.
Her gaze immediately landed on the bag. "Where are you going?"
"Home," John replied. "There was a family emergency." He started walking toward the train station at a quick pace and frowned to see Helen keeping up beside him.
"Where's home?"
"Spokane."
"I see." She fell silent for a moment. "Will you be back?"
John shrugged.
"Is Spokane nice?"
"It's fine."
"I think I'd like to see it," Helen said. "Sometime, I mean."
They reached the train station and John purchased a ticket. He stepped onto the platform to wait.
Helen stepped up beside him. "If you give me your address, I'll write to you."
"Well, I…I don't know," he stammered. "It's my parents' house and I don't think they'd much like me handing their address out all willy nilly."
"That'd be a strange thing to be upset about."
"They're strange people." John looked down the tracks and wished the train would arrive already.
"Well, never you mind," Helen said. "I'll send my letters to the post office and you can pick them up."
He thought that was very unlikely to happen. He looked at Helen, standing too close to him, smiling up at him, and felt irritated. "My train will be here any moment," he said. "You may want to be heading home, don't you think? Your parents must be worrying."
She shrugged. "My parents don't mind." She looked down at her feet. "You'll give me a kiss goodbye, won't you?"
John hesitated. If anything could possibly send the wrong message, it was giving her a kiss. But, at the same time, he was afraid of being rude. And it wasn't as though he was encouraging her. The opposite, in fact. It wasn't his fault that she couldn't take the hint. Finally, he leaned over and gave her a light peck on the cheek.
Helen beamed. "I'll miss you, you know."
There was a low rumble as the train neared.
"Yeah, sure," he replied, his thoughts already on home. "Me too."
"Really?" If it was possible, Helen's smile grew wider. "That's all I wanted to hear."
"Wait, what?" John turned to her, confusion on his face, but the train, at last, had pulled into the station.
Helen said something, her words lost in the noise, lightly touched his arm and stepped away.
He looked at her for a moment then shrugged. He was certain it couldn't have been anything important.
"I just don't see what was so wrong with the Victrola," Kate said.
"There's nothing wrong with it," Cal replied. He had bought them a tabletop cathedral radio and was busy fiddling with the dials trying to get something, anything to come through. Henry and Eileen both hovered close by. "It's fine if you want to listen to one singer at a time. You get every singer with this plus shows."
"What sort of shows?"
"Radio shows."
"That tells me nothin'."
"You're just going to have to wait and see." He turned one of the dials the other direction, there was a blast of music, then finally settled on a man's talking.
"...lurches into a spinning nose dive. Flash Gordon's trained muscles carry him across the aisle to the frightened girl, to gather her in his arms and then leap free of the falling plane."
"Stop!" Henry moved closer to the radio. "He said Flash Gordon. We have to listen to this."
"I don't want to listen to it," Eileen said.
"There's a princess in it."
"There is?" She moved to a seat next to her brother.
Kate laughed. "Well, there's no returnin' it now."
"You know, I had considered getting you jewelry instead."
"Put that gun away, Professor Zarkov. The man is mad, Dale. We'll have to humor him."
"I don't want jewelry," she replied.
"I know you don't," Cal agreed. "But you'll never turn down something for the whole family. That's the sort of thing that wins you over." He briefly thought of Hugh and the pearl necklace that had swept her off her feet and wondered if he should've bought her something nicer instead.
"Where I come from, princess, there are many stronger men and better looking."
Kate stepped closer to him. "Ye already won me over."
"Perhaps, but I still need to keep you," he replied. "And there is still one piece of jewelry I'd like to buy you."
"Cal—"
"SHH!" Henry shot them both an irritated look. "We can't hear."
"But Princess Aura, how am I to rescue the Earth girl, Dale Arden?"
"Who's Dale Arden?" Kate asked in a whisper.
"The Earth girl, apparently."
She took his hand and pulled him away from the radio. "You know that you can't be buying me any jewelry of that sort so long as I'm married."
"Which will be how long?"
Kate looked uncomfortable. "I just…he'd be so angry if I tried to divorce him."
"You don't believe I can protect you?"
"I do but…please don't push me."
"We can still hear you!" Henry called back to them.
Cal kissed her. "I'm not going to force you to do anything," he said in a quiet voice. "I'm also not going anywhere."
John had hoped to surprise Dottie the moment he returned to Spokane. But he was disappointed to discover that she was away visiting family and wouldn't return for a few days. Once he was certain she was home, he knocked on her door.
"John!" Dottie hugged him. "You never said you were coming."
He was caught off guard by her hug and it took him a moment to recover. "I didn't know I was coming until the last moment."
She stepped outside and closed the door behind her. "How long are you here for?"
"Forever, I suppose," John replied. "I had wanted to come home."
"You quit your job?"
"I had to if I wanted to come home."
"That was pretty stupid, if you ask me," Dottie said. "There's no jobs here."
John pushed back his irritation. "Then it's a good thing I didn't ask you," he retorted. "And you're hardly the one to be advising people on avoiding stupid things."
She crossed her arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You and Jimmy."
"What about me and Jimmy?"
"You're not really going to marry him, are you?"
"Eventually."
John looked at her in disbelief. "But it's Jimmy." He had been so certain that it was a joke.
"It is Jimmy."
"You hate Jimmy."
Dottie sighed. "No, you hate Jimmy," she said. "I think he's alright."
John stared at her, feeling as though his world had flipped upside down. He knew that she had been spending time with Jimmy, especially after he had left. But he had assumed it was more a case of Jimmy following her around. A one-sided friendship, at most. "Do you even love him?"
"Not particularly, but he's fine."
He wanted to shake her. "Then why are you marrying him?"
"That's none of your business."
"Did you lose a bet? Is that what this is?"
"No, I didn't lose a bet. Do we need to be talking about this?"
"I suppose not." He wanted to keep going but there was no point if it was only going to lead to an argument."
"Now, I missed you," Dottie said, lightly punching his shoulder. "Even if you are stupid."
John smiled. "I missed you too," he replied. "Despite all of the bad decisions you're making."
She rolled her eyes. "And what about your bad decisions?"
"What bad decisions?"
"You telling me there's no young woman chasing after you."
He thought of Helen and quickly looked around, almost expecting to see her nearby. "If you mean stalking, then yes."
"Is she pretty?"
"I guess." John shrugged. "But I'm not interested."
"Why not? I mean if she's pretty, you could do a lot worse."
"Yeah, I could end up stuck with Jimmy."
Dottie smacked him. "Stop that. Now what's so terrible about this woman?"
"She's boring."
"That's it?"
"She also follows me everywhere and she seems to have some trouble with her hearing."
"She's deaf?"
"Sometimes," John replied. "Like whenever I tell her I'm not interested, she's able to hear every word except 'not.'"
She laughed. "I'm sure she'll take the hint sooner or later. Hopefully before your third child together."
"Oh, God, you think it'll take that long?"
"John!" Jimmy called out to them as he came up the walk. "I didn't expect to see you."
John did his best to hide the irritation he felt upon his arrival. "Jimmy."
Jimmy held out a hand. "It's good to see you. Are you visiting or staying?"
"Staying." John shook his hand.
"You already found a job here?"
"Yes."
"Well, good for you. There's not a lot of openings around here."
An awkward silence fell over the group. Dottie caught his eye and gave him a questioning look. John imperceptibly shook his head.
"I don't mean to rush you," Jimmy said to her. "But we'll miss the beginning if we don't leave now."
"Right."
"We're going to see a movie, if you'd care to come," Jimmy explained.
"Please come," Dottie added.
John hesitated. If it were just him and Dottie he would've jumped at the chance to see a movie with her...to spend more time together after so long. But if Jimmy were there, he'd have to talk to him and that was something he wasn't interested in. "I should probably get home," he said at last. "But you two have fun."
As he walked home, he tried to figure out what the joke was. Despite the confirmation from Dottie, herself, the thought of her marrying Jimmy still seemed so absurd.
Spring
It felt surreal to be leaving New York after so many years. It felt even more surreal to have his family by his side. The children were excited as they peered eagerly over the railing of the SS Rex . Lelia, who smiled whenever he caught her eye, was silent as she kept a hand on them, to keep them from falling overboard. Fabrizio knew that despite her assurances, she wasn't happy to be leaving. And he suspected that she may have also been nervous but she denied it every time he asked.
The ship, itself, was so different from the Titanic . It was nearly the same size but everything seemed so much more luxurious. After seeing their cabin, Fabrizio even double-checked their tickets to make sure he hadn't inadvertently purchased a higher class. The rooms were larger, the beds softer. There was even a vase of fresh flowers.
The dining rooms—there were two—were even more impressive. There was a Verandah Cafe with its wicker chairs and tall potted plants. And then the dining room with its parquet floor and crisp, white table clothes.
As they sat there, their first night, their table overladen with guinea hen bordelaise, messicani with spinach and cheese, and buttered peas, Lelia seemed to cheer up. "Was this what it was like?" She asked. They had all been avoiding the name Titanic since the moment they set foot on board.
"No, this much nicer," Fabrizio replied.
"What was the dining room like then?"
He shrugged. "It was plain room with very long tables." He thought of that last dinner he shared with Jack and Tommy and Pat and his sister and drove his fork into his guinea hen with more force than he had intended.
"And the food?"
"Good, but not this good." He paused as he took a bite. "But even this is not so good compared to your cooking."
Lelia smiled. "What is our plan for when we arrive?"
"We find place to stay and then I find a job," Fabrizio replied. "Easy." At least he hoped it would be easy. It certainly seemed like an easy plan in his head.
She looked unsure.
"I promise it'll be fine." He reached across the table for her hand. "You trust me, yes?"
"I do trust you," she replied, squeezing his hand.
Fabrizio said a silent prayer that he wasn't making a mistake by moving his whole family.
It was the Works Progress Administration that finally gave Pat the job of helping to build a road. He knew it was only a temporary position but a temporary position was better than no position. Money was money, after all. And, while he had never worked on a road crew before, he was simply thrilled to be working above ground for a change and, more importantly, so close to home.
When he told Sarah the good news, she immediately dropped the dish she had been holding and threw her arms around him, kissing him. "We'll have to do something to celebrate," she said. "Maybe Kate and Cal would—"
"No." Pat cut her off. "None of that."
"But we have to do something."
He gently brushed her hair from her face. "I'd rather not remind everyone how long it took me to find work."
"That's ridiculous," Sarah said. "It's only a party. It'll be fun. I mean it has been so long since we last had a reason to celebrate."
He sighed. "Sarah, I mean this kindly, but ye do recall a time Katie threw ye a gatherin' that ye weren't so keen on?"
"The day you came back," she said softly. "I remember it. But this is different."
"Is it?"
"I don't want...wait a moment." Sarah let go of him and went over to the typewriter that now lived on the kitchen table. She fed in a piece of paper and slowly typed something out. After a moment, she tore out the page and handed it to him, a large smile across her face.
IM not go ing to argue with you. Ilove you more than anyth ing.
He smiled. "Yer gettin' good."
"Not good enough yet but it's something."
Pat looked at the note again and then at his wife. She had never looked more beautiful. He set the paper aside and wrapped his arms around her. "I am so proud of ye," he said, leaning in to kiss her.
"Ew." Eileen stood in the doorway, her nose scrunched up.
Sarah laughed. "Ew?"
"I said what I said."
"Someday, you won't find it so ew."
Eileen made a face. "Doubt it. Boys are gross."
"They are," Pat agreed. "Ye should keep on believin' that."
It was a noise that awoke Fabrizio suddenly from his sleep. But as he laid there in the darkness, he didn't know what it was. He held his breath, listening. Only the steady hum of the ship, but it was familiar.
"Fabri?" Lelia gently touched his arm and he suddenly remembered.
"We need to go," he said as he sat up. He crossed the room and switched on the light. "Put your coat on."
She blinked in the sudden light. "Why?"
"There no time," he said, shaking Caroline awake. His heart pounded in his chest like a clock ticking down. "We can't be down here."
"Don't wake the children. It's only a storm."
A storm? It wasn't a storm. He knew that it couldn't possibly be a storm.
Caroline looked frightened as she pulled on her coat. "What's wrong?"
"There's nothing wrong," Lelia assured her. "It's only a thunderstorm." She grabbed Fabrizio's arm. "You have to stop this. It's only a storm, nothing more."
He shook his head. "No, it's not a…I know that sound. We don't wait here." He picked up Carlo and opened the door. Then, taking Maria's hand, he stepped into the corridor.
"Are we sinking?" Caroline asked.
"Oh, no," Lelia said as they followed behind. "We're only playing a little game to see how quickly we can get on deck."
Fabrizio was glad that she was doing her best to keep the children from panicking. There would be more than enough of that later. He turned the corner and found a staircase leading up. As they began to climb, they passed a couple heading down who gave them a curious look. He assumed they must have been returning to their rooms for something, perhaps their lifebelts.
Lifebelts? He had forgotten about them. He stopped abruptly and turned around.
"Fabri?"
"We forgot lifebelts."
"No, Fabri, stop." Lelia grabbed his arm. "We're fine. We don't need those. It's fine."
"But what if…"
"I promise it's not necessary."
He looked at his children, at Carlo in his arms, and sighed. "Fine." He would simply have to keep a tight grip on them no matter what might happen. "But we need hurry."
He resumed climbing the stairs with everyone trailing him. As they exited the stairwell onto the deck he froze. Rain drummed down against the planking. A flash of lightning forked overhead followed by a clap of thunder. There were no seamen uncovering lifeboats, no panicked crowds swarming the deck. Only the rain and a single officer standing beneath an umbrella. "But I thought…there was…" He couldn't finish any of the sentences. He had been so sure of what he had heard. He didn't understand how it couldn't have been true.
Lelia kissed his cheek. "Come on," she said, taking his hand and leading him back inside.
"Did we win?" Caroline asked as they descended the stairs.
"We did," Lelia replied. "And now it's time to go back to bed."
The rest of the way was made in silence. Carlo had fallen asleep in his arms and both Caroline and Maria dragged their feet.
They reached their room and Lelia returned the children to their beds. Fabrizio sat on their own and put his face in his hands.
Once everyone was tucked in, she took his hand and led him into the corridor, switching off the light as she closed the door.
"I don't know why I did it," he said quietly. "You said it was a storm but I…" He shook his head. "I'm so sorry."
Lelia wrapped her arms around him. "How could I possibly be upset with you trying to protect your family?"
"I scared the children."
"They'll have forgotten about it by morning, I promise."
Fabrizio thought of Helga and the wave that washed her from the boat and his grasp. He couldn't keep a hold of her. He had promised to protect her and he had lost her instead. "I wasn't fast enough before," he admitted softly. "I couldn't save her."
"I know and I am so sorry about her," Lelia replied. "But we are all fine. There is no reason to worry."
"I can't lose you. Or the children."
"And you won't."
Fabrizio kissed her. "I love you and I'm glad you with me."
Lelia smiled. "Me too."
Summer
Sarah had never managed to successfully make her own bread so every time Kate baked, she made two loaves. Usually, she'd then walk the loaf over herself but the day was hot and dark clouds were busy building in the west. They all hoped for a good strong downpour to cool things down but she didn't want to get caught in it. So, instead, she sent Cal in her place.
The house was quiet as the children were in school and Kate was left alone with Evy. They sat on the floor together playing with blocks. Kate would build up a tower and the one year old would knock it down and laugh. There was a sudden knock on the door and Kate sighed.
"Let's take a bit of a break then," she said, scooping Evy up. She took her time setting the child down in her playpen, making a face and eliciting a giggle.
She went to the door and opened it. Her heart seemed to stop beating at the sight of Hugh.
He smiled. "Hi Kate."
Kate immediately tried to push the door shut but he stopped it with his foot and threw it open.
She backed up, her heart pounding madly.
"Most wives would be happy to have their husbands return," he said.
"Most wives' husbands aren't beatin' them," she replied, instantly regretting her words the moment they were out. She looked to the door, praying that Cal would walk through at any moment.
But Hugh didn't seem to hear her. Instead, his gaze landed on Evy who stared up at him from her playpen. "Who's child is this?" He asked. "It couldn't possibly be yours."
Kate shook her head, too afraid to speak.
"No?" He looked at her then back at Evy. "Then I suppose you wouldn't mind—" He reached for the child.
She immediately rushed forward, putting herself between them and pushing him back. "Don't ye dare touch her."
Hugh slapped her. "I've been hearing some interesting rumors about you while I've been gone. Whoring yourself out…" He grabbed her face. "Whose is it?"
Kate could smell liquor on his breath. "Let go of me."
He hit her again.
She thought of the gun sitting in its box in the kitchen and wished she had it in her hand. She looked toward the kitchen and debated with herself on whether she could reach it before he had a chance to do anything to Evy. She had to try.
Kate hit him and, using his surprise, broke free from his grasp.
She only made it a few steps before he grabbed her.
Tommy's friends only wanted to talk about girls. He had listened to their conversation patiently until he grew bored and his stomach growled. And then he slipped away and headed home. His plan was to sneak into the kitchen, grab a snack, and then escape before his mother noticed that he was skipping school.
As he approached the house, he could hear Evy crying. He opened the back door cautiously and thrust his head inside. There was a sudden crash from somewhere inside the house. "Mom?" He called out. He thought he heard a man say something, a man whose voice was too familiar with a sound that sent a chill running down his spine.
Tommy quickly pulled a chair to the cabinet and stepped up. He reached into the box, his fingers closing around the cold metal of the gun. The weapon was heavy in his hands as he jumped down to the floor and rushed into the other room.
Evy sobbed uncontrollably, forgotten about in her playpen. Kate was curled up on the ground, strands of disheveled hair clung to her tear-streaked face. Tommy's stomach twisted as he watched Hugh deliver a brutal kick.
He stood there, momentarily frozen, terrified that Hugh might turn his attention onto him. But then he thought of his mother, saw the look on her face, and wanted it all to be over with. He switched off the safety, the click sounding too loud in his ears. He raised the gun, his hands shaking, took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger.
There was a sound like a firecracker and his ears rang.
A look of surprise crossed Hugh's face.
Pat would've preferred to stay home, but when dropping off the loaf of bread, Cal happened to mention a loose rain gutter. Pat didn't know anything about fixing gutters but Sarah still sent him to 'take a look.' He wasn't sure what he was supposed to accomplish aside from staring up at it and affirming, 'aye, that is certainly a loose rain gutter.'
Most of the walk had been spent in uncomfortable small talk. They discussed Kate's bread and the hope that the dark clouds in the west weren't going to miss them. They needed rain, after all. And Cal brought up the turkey and how it never let him near the house unless he snuck by.
"Ye have to kick him," Pat said. With the exception of a few favorites, Moose wasn't exactly the most friendly.
"I'm not kicking a bird."
"I'm not sayin' ye need to kick him hard or anything, just enough to get his attention," Pat replied. "Kick him one time and he'll leave ye be. I promise."
Cal sighed. "I still wouldn't feel good kicking a helpless bird."
Pat laughed. "I wouldn't call Moose helpless. And, believe me, the first time he catches ye with his spurs, ye'll be changin' yer mind about that kick."
They were nearly there when it began to rain, a fine drizzle that did little more than add to the humidity in the air. There was a sudden loud crack and they looked at each other.
"Thunder?" Pat looked up at the sky.
"Gunshot."
There was a half second when his breath caught in his throat and his heart seemed to stop and then they were both racing toward the house. They could hear Evy crying as they ran up the front steps.
Pat, following Cal into the house, stopped abruptly at the sight of Hugh on the ground. The man sat slumped against the wall, clutching his side. His shirt was dark red with blood and his breathing ragged. Still alive, but suffering. Tommy stood in the center of the room, still holding out the gun with a visibly shaking hand, his face pale and frightened. Kate was on the ground, her hands clamped over her mouth. Her head bled. "Katie." He took a step toward her but then Cal was already there at her side. He turned his attention to Tommy instead.
"I didn't mean…I was just…I wanted to…" Tommy stammered, sounding more like a child than the young man he was.
"It's alright," Pat replied. He gently took the gun from his nephew's hands. "Go see to yer sister."
Tommy nodded, grateful to have something to do, and he moved to scoop Evy up from her playpen.
"Tommy," Cal began. "I need you to go to the neighbors and call the police."
"Which neighbors?"
"Whichever one has a phone line."
"What should I say?"
Pat only half listened to their conversation. Instead, he stared at Hugh. He could see the rise and fall of the man's chest. They were going to let him live. They were calling the police. After everything he had done, he was being given a chance. After the abuse, the hundreds of times he struck his sister, the time he locked her out of the house. He thought of the asylum, the restraints that, at times, he could still feel around his wrists, the suffocating dark room, the water, God, the freezing cold water. That was Hugh. Almost without realizing, he lifted the gun. And then he recalled the sawmill, where it all began. The blade and he felt a twinge of pain across his shoulder.
It wasn't right.
Hugh lifted his head, looked straight at him, and, as though reading his thoughts, he smirked.
Pat pulled the trigger. Again and again and again until the weapon was empty, the noise echoing off the walls, seeming to sync up with his own heartbeat.
The silence that fell afterward was almost more deafening.
"Damn it," Cal muttered under his breath. He had been hoping to watch Hugh hang for everything he had done. It'd provide justice for Vera's parents and leave Kate free to marry him without any complications. He looked at Kate who stared at Pat in shock. There were still tears tracking down her cheeks. He gently kissed her head before standing. "Pat," he said simply, holding out his hand.
But Pat didn't seem to hear him. He stood motionless in the center of the room, the gun still raised, a cold look on his face.
Cal wondered if he even knew what he had done. "Pat," he said again, louder. "Give me the gun. Now."
A look of realization suddenly crossed Pat's face and he looked at the weapon in his hand. He held it out.
Cal took it from him. "Tommy, I want you to take your mother and sister to your aunt's," he said, as he double-checked to ensure that there were no more bullets left in the weapon.
Tommy's mouth had been hanging open and he suddenly shook his head. "But I want—"
"Don't argue." Cal spoke firmly, brooking no argument. He wished Tommy hadn't been present in the first place. He was too young to witness what had just happened. He slipped into the kitchen, wet a towel under the faucet, and returned. He helped Kate to her feet and used the towel to wipe some of the blood away. She winced with every touch. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I want you to go to Sarah's."
She shook her head. "I can't." Her voice was shaky and she clutched at his arm.
"Kate, please go with Tommy and Evy," Cal pressed. "I'll come fetch you in a little while."
"And Pat?" She asked. "He can't...he shouldn't have…"
Cal looked over and saw Pat sitting on the sofa, his face in his hands. "I'll take care of it, I promise. Everything will be fine." He carefully kissed her head a second time. "Now, go."
Kate reluctantly nodded. "Alright then," she said, taking Evy from Tommy's arms.
After they had gone, Cal looked around the room and sighed. He had promised Kate that he would take care of everything but he had no idea what to do. He turned to Pat. "Do you have any ideas?"
Pat shook his head. "I wasn't thinkin'...I was just...he didn't deserve to live."
"That's not helpful. Stop talking so I can think." Cal knew that the proper thing would be to call the police and report everything that had happened. But then he thought of Pat shooting him, multiple times. The look on his face immediately after it had happened. He would be arrested. Best case scenario would be a return to Eastern State. Worst case meant prison. Kate couldn't lose her brother. Not again. He sighed. The only other option was to dispose of the body themselves. Surely, nobody would miss Hugh.
He walked over to the body and looked down at it. Hugh was lying mostly on the rug, a deep red stain beneath him. At least it was an ugly rug. Cal didn't think Kate would miss it any. He took Hugh's legs and pulled him forward until he was lying right in the center. He wrapped the rug around him then stepped back to look at it. He had never seen anything that was so clearly a dead body before.
There was a sudden crash of thunder overhead—an unmistakable crash of thunder—and a heavy downpour began. As it drummed down against the roof, his thoughts drifted to the time he found Tommy next to the river.
The river.
"You think anyone's in the woods right now?" Cal asked.
"What?"
Instead of explaining, Cal hefted the body onto his shoulders. "Get the door for me."
"Yer not callin' the police?" Pat asked as he held open the back door.
"You want to go to prison?" Cal shook his head. "No, Hugh can take a swim."
The woods were muddy with thick undergrowth that caught their legs as they walked. Cal hadn't gone far before he was breathing hard. He was too old be disposing of dead bodies.
They were halfway there when he dropped the body on the ground. "Need a break," he said, after catching the look on Pat's face. "This would've been easier if I had done this ten years ago." He took a seat on a fallen tree and tried to control his breathing.
Pat nodded. "Aye, ten years ago would've been better," he agreed. He went to sit beside him, making a point to step on Hugh's body on his way there. "Ye told Katie, ye'd kill him if he came back."
"I did but—"
"Ye lied."
"No, I didn't lie," Cal replied. He had meant it when he promised to kill the man and he certainly would have if had arrived first and saw Hugh hurting Kate. But the man was already on the ground. "He should have hanged for murdering that poor girl. Her parents deserved justice."
"Ye should have killed him."
Cal wiped the rain from his eyes. "Well, it's not like you gave anyone else the chance." He snapped. He stood and tried to pick the body up once again but his feet slipped in the mud and he nearly fell. "Can you take that end?"
Pat nodded and lifted the other end.
It took longer than it should have to carry the body the rest of the way. They heard the river before they saw it. The current raged over the rocks, its force strengthened by the storm. They approached the edge as close as they dared and together they swung the body off the embankment and into the river. Cal watched as the current carried it away. He desperately needed a drink. As they walked back, he looked at Pat and decided that he needed a drink more.
They reached the house and Cal stopped Pat at the back door. "Wait a moment."
He went around the building to where the car was parked in the drive. He did his customary look around but, of course, Kate was nowhere in sight. He opened the door, found the bottle of bourbon he kept tucked beneath the seat. And he brought it back to where Pat waited in the kitchen.
He opened the bottle and took a drink. "Don't tell your sister," he said, passing the bourbon to Pat. "She doesn't want me drinking."
Pat took a long drink. "What's yer plan now?"
"What do you mean?"
"Hugh's dead. Ye can't be usin' him as an excuse anymore,'' Pat said. "If ye say ye wish to marry her, then there's nothin' stoppin' ye."
"I do want to marry her." There was nothing he wanted more.
Pat stared at the bottle of bourbon in his hand, looking unconvinced.
"Do you have a problem with that?" Cal pressed.
"No, I just thought…" Pat shrugged. "I was thinkin' ye were here just because yer bored."
Cal took the bottle back. "Believe it or not, I really do love your sister." He took another drink. "I have for a very long time." Too long.
"Ye've never struck her?"
"Of course, not. And I never will."
"Raise yer voice?"
"Not that I can recall."
Pat looked at him as though deciding something. He suddenly snatched back the bottle of bourbon. "If Katie doesn't want ye drinkin', then never do I."
Cal opened his mouth to protest but sighed instead. He looked down at the floor, at the trail of blood that led from the living room. "We should clean that up before Kate comes home."
Pat made a face. "Right."
The front door opened and closed and, a moment later, Tommy stepped into the room. He looked at the blood on the floor and frowned. "What did you do with him?"
"Don't worry about it," Cal replied. Tommy was already too involved in everything that had happened...he didn't need to know any more. "Now, do you know where your mother keeps her cleaning supplies?"
Tommy nodded.
"Good. Go fetch them."
Kate was hardly aware of Evy in her arms or Tommy at her side as they walked to Sarah's beneath the drizzle that did nothing to cool them down. The last hour still felt too unreal. It was too difficult to believe. Everyone was happy, it was a wonderful day, and then Hugh had shown up and everything fell apart. She readjusted her daughter in her arms, wincing as she moved. Evy had finally stopped crying and she rested her head on Kate's shoulder, exhausted from her misery.
At last their destination came into view and Sarah opened the door before they had a chance to knock. Her mouth fell open. "What happened?"
Kate took a deep breath, prepared to tell her everything, but she couldn't find her words.
"Come inside at once." Sarah stepped back to let them in.
"I need to go home," Tommy said, giving his mother a concerned look.
"But what—Tommy, wait."
But he was already gone.
Sarah directed Kate to the sofa and she took Evy from her arms. "Stay here. I'm going to put her down and then you can tell me everything."
Kate twisted her hands in her dress and, once again, relived the last hour in her mind. Hugh's sudden arrival, Tommy firing the gun, the look on Pat's face when he killed him…
Sarah returned with some ice wrapped in a towel. She held it to Kate's forehead. "I'm going to kill him," she murmured. "In all the years I've known him, I never would've thought he'd do such a thing." She let out a huff. "I supposed he must've been drinking."
"Who?"
"Cal."
Kate shook her head, wincing once again. "Cal didn't touch me."
Sarah looked relieved. "Then what happened?"
"He came back." Kate didn't need to say the name for the color to drain from Sarah's face.
"What did…where is he now?"
Kate swallowed hard. "Dead," she replied. "He's dead." She wasn't sure if the sight of him bleeding on her rug would ever leave her mind.
"But how?"
Kate knew that she couldn't hide it from Sarah but she was still reluctant to say it aloud. She took the towel and ice from Sarah's hand.
"Kate?"
"Pat killed him."
Sarah brought a hand to her mouth. She looked around the room as though expecting to see her husband nearby. "Where is he now?"
"He's with Cal," Kate said. "Where'd Tommy go? He was supposed to stay here with me."
"He went home."
"Of course he did. He never listens to anyone. Did ye know, I think he's been skippin' school? Did John ever skip school? I wish I knew what to do with him."
"Kate." Sarah stopped her. "Let's worry about Tommy tomorrow. Right now, we should…I don't know."
Kate didn't want to think about what had happened or what was currently happening. Cal had said he'd take care of everything but she didn't know what that meant and the not knowing worried her. "They're goin' to arrest him," she said suddenly.
"Cal?"
"Pat. They're goin' to arrest him. They'll send him back to the asylum."
"You don't know that. I'm sure that won't happen." But even as Sarah spoke, she looked frightened and entirely unconvinced.
"But I do. He shot him." There was a tightness in her throat. "Why was he even there? He should've stayed home. He shouldn't have been anywhere near Hugh."
"It's going to be alright." Sarah took the ice from Kate. "I think I'll make us some tea."
She made the tea and brought over two cups. They sipped in silence for a time. Kate wanted to bring up her worries once again, wanted to hear more reassurances from Sarah but she knew Sarah was just as worried as her. Any reassurances would've been lies.
After a time, Pat and Cal came through the front door, looking exhausted, wet, and muddy.
Sarah immediately jumped up and embraced her husband.
Kate remained in her seat and waited for Cal to sit beside her.
"Did ye call the police?" She asked. She knew at once that he had been drinking but she didn't care.
He hesitated, taking her hands in his own. "No."
"But ye have to—"
"I don't see why."
"Cal."
"I promise I will tell you everything later."
Pat and Sarah sat across from them, her head resting on Pat's shoulder and his arm wrapped tightly around her. He looked up and their eyes met.
Kate wanted to give him a comforting smile but she couldn't seem to make her face cooperate. Instead, she could feel the tears welling up once again.
"Kate?" Cal began softly, brushing the hair away from her face. "Do you want to stay here tonight or go home?"
"Bridget and Henry?" She asked.
"They're already home. Tommy made them sandwiches."
"Oh."
"Maybe you should stay."
"No, I want to go home." Her children may not have needed her at the moment, but she needed them. She desperately needed them.
"Alright," he replied. "Let's go home."
They walked home slowly, with Evy asleep in her arms, carefully sidestepping puddles. Cal kept his arm around her and she leaned into him. Neither of them felt a need to speak. The sun setting cast a brilliant orange glow over the world and the earlier storm made the world smell fresh and alive. New. But everything still felt unreal.
By the time Kate stepped through the front door, she no longer felt on the verge of tears. She only felt numb.
Fall
John was starting to wonder if he was luckier than most men. He knew he certainly hadn't gotten his luck from his father—that man couldn't possibly have been any unluckier. But there was no denying that jobs seemed to fall into his lap. First the mill, the mine, the post office, and now laying water main for the Work Progress Administration. Or, rather, digging the trenches for the water mains. It wasn't great work and he knew it was only temporary. But he was grateful for it, nonetheless.
Technically, only one member of a family was allowed to work under the WPA at any given time but John managed to find a way around the rule by listing his address as his aunt's house. As he and his father worked on different projects in different parts of the city, no one had yet caught on.
He thought about his luck as he sat at the table, eating a ham sandwich. There was a knock on the front door but he ignored it and continued eating, assuming that it was his aunt or maybe even Dottie. But he looked up as Sarah came into the kitchen.
"John," she said, giving him a look.
"What?"
"There's a young lady here for you."
"Dottie?"
"Helen."
John choked on his sandwich and quickly took a swig of milk to wash down his bite. "What is she doing here?"
"Visiting you, apparently." Sarah could hardly contain her smile.
"Can you send her away?"
"That'd be rude."
"Tell her I died."
"John."
"Fine." He tossed his sandwich down and went to the door, dragging his feet the whole way. Maybe he had inherited his father's unluckiness, after all.
Sure enough, Helen stood in the doorway, wearing a blue dress. She smiled at his arrival.
"What are you doing here?" John asked.
"Was that your mother?" Helen ignored his question entirely and tried to peer around him into the house.
"It is."
"She seems nice. Do you like my dress?" She spun around.
"It makes you look like a box."
Someone smacked him across the back of his head and he turned to see his mother standing behind him. "Ow, mom."
"It's alright," Helen said. "He's only teasing me. It's our special joke."
John sighed. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to see you, silly." She reached out to touch him but he took a hasty step backwards.
"Why?"
"Because that's what you do when you're going steady."
"We're not going steady." He turned to Sarah and repeated. "We are not going steady, I swear."
"Sure, we are," Helen insisted.
"It was one dinner forever ago." He had never regretted anything more in his entire life. Why did he have to ask her?
"And then those hundreds of times you walked me home," she continued. "And let's not forget the kiss goodbye."
"I didn't want to be rude." He looked at his mother for help.
"Why don't the two of you go for a walk?" Sarah suggested. "It's a lovely day out."
John shot her an irritated look. She was supposed to be rescuing him, not making the situation worse. "I would but…I forgot I have to work."
Helen narrowed her eyes. "On a Saturday?"
"Special project," he explained. "It's more money and I think I could…I have to work."
"Oh." Her face fell. "Stop by tomorrow then?"
"I work then too."
"On a Sunday?"
"It's an extra special project."
"Well, then why don't I bring you lunch," she smiled sweetly. "Where do you work?"
"I don't eat lunch."
Helen sighed. "Fine. We'll sort it all out later."
John was afraid to celebrate his victory. "How long until you go back?" He asked tentatively.
"Oh, I'm here to stay," she replied. "I got a room downtown and a job mending blouses in the mornings. I don't need to go anywhere."
He could feel his heart plummet to his feet. There was no escape and maybe Dottie was right and he might as well marry her. "Well, I'm going to be late. I have to go," he quickly said. He pushed his mother back and slammed the door.
"John." Sarah crossed her arms.
"I know. I know. I was very rude."
She sighed. 'If you're not interested in that young woman, you need to tell her. And be direct about it."
"I have told her!" His voice rose. "I've told her several times. She won't listen. And now she's followed me here. She's probably going to show up in my bed tonight."
"John!"
"Sorry," he quickly replied. "I'll be sure to keep my windows locked."
Sarah shook her head. "If you're truly being as direct as you say, then I'm sure she'll lose interest before too long. Maybe she'll meet someone else," she said. "Why don't you introduce her to Jimmy?"
"That's an idea." If it worked, it could save Dottie and free him from Helen. "But if she doesn't lose interest, I'm changing my name and moving to Canada."
"I'll be sure to come visit," Sarah said. "Now go finish your lunch and take care of your dishes."
"Fine." John returned to his sandwich, his mind already making plans.
Kate had finally filed for divorce as there was now no chance of Hugh seeing the notice in the newspaper. In a few months, she'd be free. Cal hadn't brought up the thought of them marrying since the day he bought her a radio several months ago earlier, but he intended to settle the matter just as soon as her divorce was final. He had already waited too long.
But then Hugh's body was pulled from the river.
Kate had gone pale at the news and dropped the dish in her hands. "Oh, God, they're goin' to know."
"They couldn't possibly know anything," Cal assured her. "He was found a hundred miles away. There's nothing to worry about."
"If there was, ye'd tell me, right?"
"Of course." Truthfully, he was nervous but knowing that wouldn't do Kate any good.
Two days later, there was a knock on the door. Cal hesitantly peered through the curtains and felt a flutter of unease at the sight of Detective Barber standing on their front porch. "Stay here," he said, guiding Kate to the sofa. "I'll speak with him."
"Don't let him take Pat," Kate grabbed his hand. "Please."
Cal gave her trembling hand a gentle squeeze. "Stop worrying."
He went to the door and opened it partway. "Can I help you?"
"Good afternoon," Barber began. "I'm looking for Mrs. Werner. Is she at home?"
"She's not feeling well and she's lying down," Cal replied. "Might we speak privately?"
"Of course."
Cal stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
The detective wasted no time. "If you'll allow me to speak first," he said. "Mr. Werner's body was pulled from the river two days ago."
"So I read."
Barber sighed. "It shouldn't already be in the papers except that damn reporter was there when he was fished out." The man gave him a scrutinizing look. "How well would you say you knew him?"
"Well enough to know that he was a violent drunk," Cal replied. He spared a glance toward the house before continuing. "He used his wife as a punching bag. I believe he deserved whatever happened to him."
"And what precisely do you think happened to him?"
"I imagine someone grew tired of his abuse."
The detective pulled out a small notebook. "Are you implying that Mrs. Werner killed him?"
"God, no," Cal said. "I killed him." He hadn't intended to falsely confess to Hugh's murder but the words were out before he could stop them.
There was a moment of silence as they both looked at each other. Cal reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He started to count out a handful of bills. If there was one thing his father taught him, it was that with enough money, every problem could be solved.
"It's $5,000 for murder," Barber said suddenly.
"What about self-defense?"
"A lot of bullet holes for self-defense."
Cal sighed and counted out more money.
The detective took it, counted it himself, then slipped it into his pocket. "Between you and me, it's no great loss. That man owed a lot of people money," he said. "Probably not even worth investigating, if you ask me."
"I'm sure there's better uses for your time."
"Indeed," Barber agreed. "Give Mrs. Werner my condolences." He tipped his hat and left.
As Cal went back inside, he did the math in his head. He had $15,000 after selling his land five years earlier. Now he was closer to $4,000. The low amount made him nervous. He needed to take care of Kate. He needed to take care of her children… their children. If his factories didn't turn around soon, he'd have no choice but to sell them. The thought of losing that final thing that tied him to his family, that final thing his ancestors had built up over the years, was horrifying.
Kate looked up at his arrival. "What was…did he…" Her voice faltered and died.
He sat beside her and took her hands. "He only wished to offer his condolences," Cal said. "It seems that Hugh owed money to the wrong man."
"But are they—"
He shook his head. "He said it was clear what had happened. There was no need to waste resources on an investigation."
"Oh." Kate stared straight ahead, a disbelieving look on her face.
Cal gently turned her head toward him. "You're free."
Several emotions seemed to cross Kate's face all at once and she began to cry. "I'm not sad," she managed between sobs. "I don't know why I'm cryin'. I really don't. I'm quite happy, in fact."
"You don't have to explain anything." He pulled her close and let her cry into his shoulder until she ran out of tears.
After a time, she wiped her eyes. "I'm goin'…I think I'm goin' to bake a cake. Or maybe some muffins…I don't know." Kate stood and smoothed down her dress. "I feel I have to do somethin'." A smile suddenly crossed her face. She bent down and kissed him. "Thank ye," she said.
Cal watched her disappear into the kitchen, a smile on his own face. It had been so long since he had last seen her genuinely happy. That was worth any amount of money.
It had been years since they had last gone to watch the Halloween parade. Without Pat and John, Sarah never felt much like attending. And as Hugh thought it was a waste of time, Kate had never gone either. But, as no one could think of a reason to miss another year, everyone bundled up against the chilly weather and found a good spot along the parade route.
Most of the children grouped together, chatting excitedly and talking over one another while the adults stood nearby. Tommy, looking suitably bored, hovered between the two. Cal held Evy in one arm—Sarah missed the days when Eileen had been so little—and had his other hand on the small of Kate's back. They both looked remarkably happy and Sarah couldn't keep from smiling at the sight of them.
She looked down at her own family. Eileen waved at the floats as they drove by, pumping her fist every time a performer waved back. John was engrossed in a conversation with Dottie. They would've made a good couple. Sarah looked around the route and, sure enough, Helen stood near, watching John with a scowl on her face.
She felt a gentle touch on her arm and turned to see Pat watching her, a smile on his face. He had lately seemed like a new man—she wasn't sure if it was finally finding a job or Hugh's death, but suspected it must've been a combination of the two. She remembered the day it had happened, the sudden storm, the look on everyone's faces…she was surprised at how well Pat was doing, considering he was the one to empty the gun. Murder was a heavy weight even when the victim was someone like Hugh.
"Ye alright?" Pat asked.
She kissed his cheek. "I'm fine," she replied. "This is wonderful."
"It is, isn't it?"
Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah watched Cal flip Evy upside down, causing her to giggle like mad. Her breath caught in her throat as a memory of John doing the same to one curly-headed toddler on the deck of the Titanic flashed through her mind. There was an immediate burning in the back of her throat and she blinked rapidly. She couldn't cry on parade day. She refused to be the one to ruin it.
"Sarah?" Pat looked at her.
She shook her head. "It's nothing. It's just…a sudden memory, I suppose."
Beside her Cal flipped the toddler right side up again, to even more giggles.
Pat squeezed her hand. "I understand that all too well."
Sarah smiled.
Evy suddenly shrieked as a clown approached her and she buried her face in Cal's shoulder. The clown rejoined the parade route and everyone laughed.
"We should start doing this every year," Sarah said. "Now that everything's…well…"
"Ye mean now that everyone's happy?"
"At least we all are for now." She prayed it would last. They had all been through too much and certainly deserved some good things for a time.
Dearest Cal,
I'm sorry it's taken so long for either of us to write. As you can imagine, settling into a new country is no small undertaking. I'm not sure how my parents managed it when I was a child. We did arrive safely in Genoa, as I'm sure you've already guessed. It's a lovely city, nestled right next to the ocean. There are quite a few large hills (Fabri calls them mountains but I don't believe they're tall enough to be mountains). Those and the way the buildings are made, makes me feel as though we've stepped back in time. It's difficult to convince my mind that we're not on vacation, that this is our home. But, perhaps I'm just too used to the bustle of New York City.
Our new home is larger than our last home but not much larger than our first home. We're back in three rooms (still haven't managed to track down the fourth room yet) but there are large windows that let in a great deal of light and fresh air. Two of them overlook the harbor. Caroline's favorite thing to do is to sit at the window and watch the ships come in every morning.
Fabri found himself a job at once. It seems as though half the city is currently under construction. It almost, to me, feels as though they're preparing for something. But, as much of the construction seems to be rather ornate (and so many monuments!), perhaps they're preparing for a celebration.
The children have been adjusting well. You should hear Caroline and Maria chatting away in Italian. Fabri is so proud of them. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for me. I know that I, at one time, knew Italian, but it refuses to come back to me the way it should. I've never felt more stupid. Fabri bought me an Italian/English grammar book. Every morning, I read the newspaper, slowly and one word at a time. A few words and phrases will stick in my head but then, by the end of the day, everything has slipped from my mind.
I have a difficult time expressing this to Fabri but I do miss New York. I miss my parents. And, believe it or not, I miss you as well. Fabri also misses you although he won't say it aloud. You should know that he has been trying to think of the best way to ask you to come visit. I told him, you may not wish to leave Kate so soon. I hope the two of you are quite happy.
Anyway, this is overly long so I will end this here.
Send everyone our love,
Lelia (and also Fabri) (and the children)
Ps. Congratulations on your daughter. I'm sure she's beautiful.