Winter
Pat jolted awake, his heart pounding in his chest. Over the years, he had grown used to not being able to sleep at night but he was tired of the constant nightmares. He was tired of seeing the ship every time he closed his eyes. Or the isolation room in the asylum or the tank of freezing cold water that he still hadn't told Sarah about. And, lately, he was tired of seeing Hugh and the look on the man's face the moment he pulled the trigger.
He looked over at Sarah who was nestled up beside him in a deep sleep of her own, and sighed. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept well. Pat gently kissed her head before carefully extricating himself from her and slipping out from beneath the blankets. Sarah murmured something unintelligible but didn't open her eyes.
"I'll be back in a moment," he whispered, tucking the blanket in around her.
The house was chilly and still aside from the quiet ticking of the living room clock. Pat double-checked that the heater was working as it should, turning it up a couple degrees. Then he pulled on his coat and stepped outside.
The snow covering the ground seemed to glow in its whiteness and the sky was clear and filled with stars. Pat took a seat on the table and stared up at the dark expanse. He didn't understand why Hugh was taking over his dreams, why he couldn't seem to stop thinking about him, about that moment. The man was hardly worth a thought when he was alive; he certainly couldn't have been worth one dead.
There was a sudden noise behind him and he jumped. Pat turned to see Moose jump up onto the table. The turkey gave him a curious look.
"Hi Moose," Pat said. "Don't have anything for ye."
Moose looked at him for a second longer then hopped onto his lap, immediately settling himself down.
"This isn't normal, ye know. Yer not a dog." Pat gently ran his hand over the turkey's feathers and found himself thinking of Hugh once more. "I'm not wrong for killin' him, am I?" He asked. "He was a monster, to put it kindly. I mean after everything he put us through, he deserved worse than he received. He certainly didn't deserve to live. I mean if ye only knew the things he done…ye'd shoot him too." He sighed. "I wish I could stop thinkin' about it though. Hugh's already ruined enough of me life. I don't need him to ruin any more of it. How do I make it stop?"
Moose began to purr.
"Yer a strange bird and I don't know how we haven't eaten ye yet."
The turkey lightly pecked at his sleeve.
"Well, this hasn't been helpful one bit," Pat said. "Yer a good listener but not so great on the advice." He glanced toward the house. "I best go back in before Sarah comes searchin' for me. I suppose I probably should be speakin' to her about this but…I've already put her through enough. I'd like to give her a break from worryin' about me for a time. Anyway." He gently shooed the turkey from his lap and stood up.
He stepped through the back door and ran straight into Sarah.
"I promise I wasn't following you," she quickly said. "I came down for a glass of water and—"
He interrupted her with a kiss. "Ye can follow me all ye like," he said. "I don't mind. Now, come on." He took her hand and led her back to bed.
Hugh was dead. Gone. Buried. Decomposing beneath the dirt where he belonged. There was no longer any need to wait for a divorce to finalize. There was no need to speak to lawyers. Kate was free to marry and Cal couldn't see any reason to wait.
He looked at the money he had remaining, counted it slowly as though by going slowly, he might find more bills. It wasn't enough for the ring she deserved. He thought of the ring he had once given Rose and wished he had kept it. He could have removed the stones and used them in a different setting. But that ring was long gone and there was no point in dwelling on it. Cal counted out a thousand dollars. He looked at the money remaining—such a small pile—and sighed. It wouldn't do. He returned half of it. He didn't know what sort of ring he could buy for only $500 but it would have to do for the time being. He made a silent promise to himself to buy her a better one at some point in the future.
After purchasing the best ring he could afford—a platinum band with a measly 4 carat diamond—he waited until Kate was getting ready for bed and they were alone.
She sat at her dressing table, running a brush through her hair and smiling to herself. She had cut it short only a few days after Hugh's death and now her dark hair just grazed the top of her shoulders.
"Kate," Cal began, taking a seat on the bed next to her.
Kate set her brush down and turned to face him.
He reached into his pocket and held onto the ring. "I know we've discussed this before but the question was tabled so long as you were married. And, well…now you're no longer married and there's no need to wait for a divorce to finalize. There's no need for a divorce at all. And I hardly think you'll need a period of mourning. I can hardly imagine anyone mourning—"
"Cal, yer startin' to ramble."
"Right." He took a deep breath and held out the ring. "Kate, will you marry me?"
There was a silence that seemed to stretch on interminably. Kate stared at him, an unreadable expression on her face. Cal had a sudden flashback to Rose's reaction when he had once asked her the same thing and he was suddenly short of breath. "Kate?"
"No," she replied softly.
He closed his hand around the ring that she hadn't even looked at. His heart plummeted to his feet. "Oh."
"Cal." Kate reached for him but he moved away.
"No, you're right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed." He returned the ring to his pocket. "I just thought that we…that you…"
"Would ye stop a moment?" She took his hand. "I do love ye. Ye know that. But…" She hesitated. "I'm not sure I want to marry again. I've been married twice now and even when it was good, it ended badly. I can't go through it again."
"We have a child."
"I know we do and I'm glad that we do but it doesn't change me feelin's."
Cal didn't know how to respond. He had planned on marrying her for so long. He had never considered that Kate would feel otherwise. In his mind, he replayed all of their previous conversations, searching for any hint that he hadn't misread her intentions but none came to mind. How had he missed it?
"Ye have to say something," Kate implored, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry if I…don't leave me. I can't…"
He could see tears clinging to her eyelashes. "Kate." He took her into his arms and held onto her tightly. "There is nothing in this world that could make me leave you. I promise. If you don't want to marry then we won't marry." He thought of the ring in his pocket. "And if you ever change your mind, no matter whether it happens tomorrow or…I don't know, thirty years from now, let me know and I'll ask you again."
Sarah lounged on the sofa, her legs stretched out in front of her and an open book on her lap. With Eileen at school and Pat and John both working, the house was silent. There was a time, not so long ago, when she would've hated the quiet. But knowing that in a few hours everyone would be noisily coming through the door, made it feel entirely different. Even enjoyable.
There was a sudden shout outside and she jumped from her seat, tossing the book aside. Sarah ran to the door and opened it just as Kate darted through.
Moose, who had been chasing her, stopped on the doorstep and puffed up his feathers.
"Backyard, now," Sarah commanded but the bird only stared at her. She shook her head. "He'll listen to the children and do as Pat tells him but I might as well not even bother."
"Cal said I need to kick him but that seems cruel to me," Kate said, taking a seat on the sofa. She picked up the discarded book and read the cover. "To the Lighthouse. Is it any good?"
Sarah sat beside her. "I'm hardly more than a few pages into it," she replied. "But it's not terrible so far. You can borrow it once I've finished, if you like."
"I likely wouldn't read it," Kate admitted, handing it to her. "I've never been much of a reader."
"Neither is your brother, but that just means that I don't have to share my horde."
"At least yer easy to buy gifts for."
Sarah laughed. "That's what Pat says." She turned over the book in her hands. "John used to say it as well. Of course, John also liked to read so the books he bought me had always been read first." She suddenly looked around the room. "Where's Evy at? I was hoping to see her."
"Cal took her to the park," Kate replied. "He wants to tire her out so she'll sleep better tonight. At least, that's his plan. I'm bettin' it's goin' to backfire on him but we'll see."
"You didn't want to go with them?"
"No, I wanted to speak to ye instead."
Sarah set the book aside and straightened up. "What happened?"
"Cal asked me to marry him."
"When was this?"
"Last night."
Sarah wanted to be excited and to congratulate her but there was something in Kate's tone that worried her. "Kate?"
"I told him no."
"You said no?" Sarah was stunned. "Why? I thought you loved him."
"I did…I mean I do," Kate quickly replied. "I just…marriage changes things, ye know. It turns good men into monsters. I don't want that happening with Cal."
"Marriage didn't change Hugh," Sarah explained. "He had always been that way. He just hid it well. And marriage never changed Daniel or Pat."
"Daniel never had a chance to change, did he? I married him and he died. And then I married Hugh and…well, he also died," Kate said. "I feel I must be cursed. There's no other way to explain it."
"I don't believe it." Sarah shook her head. "Not for one moment. You've known Cal for twenty two…twenty three years. If he was going to change, he would've done it a decade ago. And he's not going to die."
"Ye can't know that." Kate fidgeted with her skirt. "Am I makin' a mistake?"
Sarah hesitated. She wanted to be a good friend, to be supportive but she also wanted to be honest. "You know that I will support you no matter what," she said at last, avoiding the question entirely.
"Sarah, am I makin' a mistake?" Kate asked a second time. "Ye have to answer me."
"Alright but don't be angry with me," Sarah relented. "I do think you're making a mistake. I think you should marry him. I know how much you love him and Cal is a good man. He's not Hugh."
"But what if—"
"You also have a child together. And I know everything is fine now but…" She hesitated. "If something were to happen to either of you and you weren't married, everything would fall apart very quickly." She remembered how angry she had been after Pat was injured at the mill. She hadn't been his wife at the time and she still felt irritated when she thought of how she had been treated, at how difficult it had been to learn anything at all about his condition. "Just think about it some more, please?"
"I'll think on it but that doesn't mean I'll change me mind," Kate replied, still looking uncertain.
John didn't understand why dance halls existed. They were crowded and dark and noisy, filled with couples of varying stages of inebriation. There were always too many familiar faces and he hated the constant small talk that came with being recognized. He preferred a place that allowed room to breathe and move about.
But being in one, with Helen on his arm, was entirely his own fault. His mother had insisted that Helen would lose interest just as soon as she got to know him better. John wasn't sure if he should feel offended by that statement but, as telling her that he wasn't interested wasn't working, he was willing to try other things. And as much as he hated dance halls, he chose one, knowing that it'd be noisy so he wouldn't need to talk as much and he could possibly slip away in the crowd if she grew too affectionate.
Predictably, Helen loved the place. She loved the noise and the crowd and the dim lighting. Immediately, she clutched tightly to his arm as she tried to drag him onto the dance floor.
"How about we get some drinks first?" John quickly asked. He had zero interest in dancing.
"Oh, alright. I suppose that'd be fine."
As they approached the bar, he caught sight of Dottie leaning against it and his mood immediately lifted. "Dottie!"
"I see that hell froze over," Dottie replied. "Why're you here?"
"We're on a date," Helen said proudly.
"A date?" Dottie's gaze drifted from John to Helen then back again.
John sighed. "This is Helen," he said. "Helen, Dottie. And this isn't a date. It's a…" His voice trailed off. He had no answer for it.
Dottie grinned. "So this is the famous Helen I've heard so much about."
"You've been telling people about me?" Helen asked.
"No, of course—"
"All the time," Dottie continued. "He talks about you nonstop. I think he's quite taken."
"Dottie, would you stop?" John hissed.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I think I'm embarrassing him," Dottie whispered to Helen.
John pulled his arm free from Helen's grasp. "What are you doing here?" He snapped at Dottie. "You hate dancing."
Dottie made a face as she sipped her drink. "I do but it's Jimmy's birthday and this is where he wanted to go."
John looked around the room but didn't see him anywhere.
"He's in the bathroom," Dottie answered as though reading his mind. "He'll be back in a—is that Tommy?"
"Who?"
"Your cousin, Tommy. How many other Tommys do you know?"
John looked to where she was pointing and spotted his cousin across the room. The young man was leaning against the wall, surrounded by a group of friends. There was a glass in his hand and the young woman next to him kept touching his arm. John, having never seen him outside of a family setting, was surprised to see him there. He never imagined him having a social life of his own.
"We should go say hi," Helen suggested.
"Nah." John shook his head. "He won't want to be bothered."
"Then we should go dance."
"I don't like dancing."
Helen huffed. "Then why'd you take me to a dance hall?"
"She has a fair point," Dottie pointed out.
"Jimmy can dance with you." John could see the young man coming toward them. "Jimmy, you like dancing, don't you?"
"I'm not going steady with Jimmy," Helen stated.
"You're not going steady with me either."
"What's going on?" Jimmy asked, looking around the group. "Who's this?"
"This is Helen, John's girlfriend," Dottie said before anyone else had a chance. "And John's being a pain and refuses to dance with her. You'll be a dear and step in, won't you?"
Jimmy looked at Helen and shrugged. "Sure, why not?" He held out his hand. "We can leave these two wallflowers be for a time."
After they left, John turned toward Dottie. "I'm going to kill you," he said. "I will murder you in your sleep."
She laughed. "I was only having a bit of fun. You're making it so easy."
"I'm never going to be able to get rid of her now."
"Oh, come on. The poor girl has a crush on you. I think it's precious."
"It's not precious. It's irritating." John sighed. "What are you drinking?"
"Jack Rose," Dottie answered. "And maybe you should tell her that there's nothing between the two of you instead of stringing her along."
"I'm not stringing her along," he replied, flagging down the bartender to order the same for himself. "I've been very clear that I'm not interested one bit."
"Hm."
"What?"
"It's just that nothing says not interested like taking the girl to a dance hall and buying her a drink."
"I didn't buy her a drink. And my mom said I should."
Dottie sniggered. "I think your mom wants you married."
"She never said that."
"She doesn't need to say it for it to be clear as day."
John considered it as he took a drink. It certainly made sense but he would've hoped that his mother would've wanted something better for him than settling for someone like Helen. The thought put him in a bad mood. He didn't like the idea of being cornered into something. "Is that what's happening with you?" He asked. "Your mom pushing you onto Jimmy?"
"We're not discussing Jimmy."
"I just don't understand it."
"You don't need to understand anything. It's not any of your business." She smacked his arm and pointed. "Look."
Across the room, Tommy and the young woman were fully entangled in each other's arms.
"Are they going steady?" Dottie asked.
"Not so far as I know," John replied.
"You think his mother knows?"
"That he's necking strange women in dance halls? Clearly not or he wouldn't still be alive." John saw Jimmy and Helen walking toward them, Helen's face flushed, and he sighed.
"Just be nice," Dottie said. "Helen seems sweet and you could do worse."
"How?"
"You'd be surprised.
Spring
A tree had fallen in the yard, thankfully missing everything and everyone of value. Cal had wanted to leave it where it fell but Kate wanted it gone so he soon found himself standing next to it, an ax in his hand, looking and feeling utterly perplexed.
"Sarah sent me to help," Pat said, coming up beside him.
"Thank God, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do."
"Yer just choppin' it into pieces, right?" Pat asked. "It's not that complicated."
"Sure." Cal may have lived there for four years but he still felt out of his element at times. Kate was doing her best to teach him the things he should know—he was now an expert at operating a can opener—but there was no denying that he simply wasn't meant for manual labor.
Pat laughed. "I'll chop and ye can stack the pieces."
They worked silently for a time with Pat effortlessly swinging the ax while Cal tossed the logs into a pile. He inexplicably found himself thinking of Hugh. It was strange but understandable how everyone seemed to have a mutual understanding to act as though nothing had ever happened. No one brought up Pat shooting him. No one talked about dumping the body into the river. Aside from the briefest mention when he proposed to Kate, no one talked about Hugh's death at all.
He looked at Pat as they worked and wondered how he specifically was handling it. "Do you remember when we—"
"When are the two of ye marryin'?" Pat asked suddenly, cutting him off.
Cal wished he had an answer for him. He wished Kate had said yes when he had asked. But she hadn't and, as he didn't want to blame her, he remained silent.
"Ye are marryin' her, right?" Pat pressed.
"The...the timing isn't quite right."
"The timin'?" Pat leaned on the ax and looked at him. "Ye need to marry me sister."
Cal sighed. "Then maybe you should be speaking to your sister because she doesn't seem to agree with you."
"Ye asked her?"
"Of course I asked her."
"She said no?"
Cal turned his attention to meticulously straightening the pile of logs. He wished he hadn't brought up Kate's reluctance. Her rejection wasn't anyone's business but their own.
Pat set the ax down. "Katie hasn't had much luck with marryin'," he said, picking up a log and moving it to the pile.
"What?"
"Well, there was Daniel and then Hugh. Ye'd almost expect her to be a bit hesitant at jumpin' back in."
Cal wiped his hands on his pants and looked at him. "What are you saying?"
"I'm sayin', don't give up on her."
"I wasn't going to," Cal replied. "Kate is everything to me." That was something he knew. Something that he didn't need to be taught.
Kate sat sewing, one eye kept on Evy who played quietly in her kiddie koop. Tommy lounged nearby, engrossed in a book. He was rarely home during the day anymore except for mealtimes but the weather was stormy and she supposed that all of his friends must have been busy. She couldn't see any other reason why he would willingly spend time with her. She sighed as she sewed and glanced in his direction. She wanted to start a conversation but felt strangely nervous. It felt as though the older he grew, the less she knew him. A few times she had tried to push her way into Tommy's life but if he ever caught the faintest hint of prying, he shut down immediately and walked away.
"Tommy?" She began tentatively, trying to sound casual. "How's school goin' for ye?"
"It's fine." He didn't look up from his book.
"Ye've been goin' everyday?"
"Just about."
"Just about?" Kate set down her sewing. "If yer skippin again—"
"I had the flu last month."
"Oh, right." Now that she thought of it, she did remember him missing a couple days due to illness. "It's a bit excitin' how yer almost finished with it."
"One more year."
"It's nearly time to be thinkin' about yer future."
"I've been thinking about it."
"And?" Kate held her breath, hoping that she was finally about to have some sort of deep insight into her son's life.
Tommy shrugged and continued to read.
She picked up her needle and resumed sewing. She knew she was on the verge of prying too deeply but she felt as though they were nearly having a conversation. She wasn't about to let it go. "What about women?" She asked, still trying to sound casual. "There must be some young lass ye've had yer eye on."
"There isn't."
Kate was perplexed. "None?" He was seventeen, after all. She remembered having a sweetheart when she was his age. There should have been crushes and first loves by now.
"I don't know what to tell you, mom."
"Ye do...like women ...don't ye?"
"Mom, stop."
"Well, I don't know...I just...I'm tryin' to get to know ye a bit."
"You had seventeen years to get to know me," Tommy said. "Interrogating me while I'm trying to read a book isn't the way."
"Tommy."
He slammed the book shut. "You know when would've been a great time to get to know me? Maybe when you were busy fooling around with him ."
Kate knew that Tommy blamed her for every terrible thing that Hugh did and she knew those feelings were justified. She should have done better for him. She should have listened to Pat in the first place and never married the man at all. "I'm sorry for what I put ye through," she said. "I tried to protect ye the best way I knew how." Even if it wasn't enough.
Tommy reopened his book and took his time flipping through the pages until he found where he left off. "I want to go to college so I can work in a business like my father...my real father," he said quietly. "That's what I've been thinking."
"I know he would've liked to see that happen," Kate replied, a soft smile on her face. She may not know a great deal about her son, but it was a start.
Sarah picked up the phone receiver, put it to her ear, then set it back down again. Cal had paid to have a phone line installed, calling it a late birthday present. Personally, she thought it was unnecessary. "It does look nice," she said. "But who would I even call?"
"You can call Kate."
She laughed. "Kate's only a half mile away. If I want to talk to her, I can just walk over. It takes a whole ten minutes."
"Well, now you can speak to her when the weather's bad or when it's too cold or you're too tired."
"I suppose that's an idea." She ran a finger over the dial. It still all seemed too complicated for her.
"It'll also be good for emergencies," Cal continued. "You can call the police or the hospital."
Sarah looked at the numbers and frowned. "I don't know their numbers."
"You don't need to. Dial 0 and you'll reach the operator and she can transfer you."
"I don't believe it." She picked up the receiver again, placed her finger in the 0 hole and spun the dial.
A small voice on the other end spoke up. "Operator, how might I assist you?"
"I...don't know. I'm so sorry." Sarah quickly hung up the phone. She looked at Cal who was stifling a laugh. "Don't laugh at me. I wasn't actually expecting anyone to answer. She caught me off guard."
"I'm not laughing," Cal replied. "You'll get used to it."
She looked at the phone again and sighed. She could certainly see its uses even if she did believe they had lived without one well enough for many years. "It's still too expensive. You shouldn't have bought it."
"Don't even think of it. Soon you won't know how you ever lived without it. Trust me," Cal said. "Besides, we share a party line so it hardly costs a thing."
"I see." Sarah looked at the wire leading into the wall. "Could we call Fabri?"
"In Italy?" Cal laughed. "They don't work like that. But you can call anyone in Spokane."
"If only there were people other than Kate worth speaking to."
"I mean there's me and Tommy and Henry, Bridget, Evy…although I doubt you could get a conversation going with Tommy."
"Not very chatty?"
"God, no," Cal replied. "And it's driving Kate up the wall. Was John ever secretive?"
"No, he's always been fairly open but he was never really a teenager. You know, since Pat was...he had to find a job." She hated how John had been cheated out of so much...a childhood, his teenage years, he never even had the chance to finish school. "I'm sure Tommy will grow out of it. Just need some patience."
"That's what I told her but I don't have much experience with it."
"There's nothing to worry about. Tommy's doing just fine. He's a good young man," Sarah said. "Thank you for the phone."
"You're welcome," Cal replied. "I can't let you and Pat live in the Dark Ages forever, now can I?"
Summer
Cal,
I think moving to Italy was a wonderful decision. We should've done it sooner. The country is hardly recognizable as the one I left years ago. I think the depression must've passed over it. There are plenty of jobs here and I make more money than I did in New York. They give me sick pay and pension and I only have to work forty hours a week. There is an organization here called Opera Nazionale Dopolavoro. They are always organizing football matches and concerts. Every weekend there are parades and films to watch, screened right outdoors. We always keep busy as there is so much to do.
I don't think Lelia is much happy though. She has not been able to find a job and I think she's bored during the week. Caroline and Maria are away at camp at the moment so it is only her and Carlo during the day. I think once she adjusts better and learns more of the language, she might be happier. Right now, I don't see how she could miss our tenement in New York. Everything here is better.
On the other hand, the children are doing well. They've made many friends and they speak Italian as though they've only ever spoken it. I've never been more proud. There is another one on the way. Lelia swears it will be the last one. I think she's tired of having children but I think maybe a new baby will make her feel less lonely during the day.
Maybe if you come visit, it will also help. We have plenty of room for you here.
Fabri
Kate was pulling weeds from her flowerbeds in front of the house when she looked up as Pat approached. "I hope yer here to lend a hand."
"Of course, I am." Pat reached for one of the plants.
She slapped his hand. "Ye need to be pullin' the weeds not the flowers."
"Which one's a weed?"
"Anything that looks like this," Kate explained, holding up a green plant.
"I see."
They worked quietly for a while. Pat stole glances at her, trying to judge the best way to bring up what he came to discuss. He couldn't imagine it would go well no matter how he brought it up. "This seems like a waste of time, if ye ask me," he said at last. "Won't they just come up again?"
"Maybe, but that doesn't mean it doesn't need to be done."
There was no sense in putting it off. "Can I ask ye something."
Kate wiped her hands on her apron and turned to face him. "I have a feelin' yer goin' to ask me whether I give ye permission or not so ye might as well get it out of ye."
"Alright then," Pat said. "When are ye getting' married? Hugh's been dead a year now."
"Patrick Murphy, yer not about to be pryin' in me life, are ye?"
"No, of course not," he quickly replied. "I was only curious."
She shook her head and returned to her flowerbed. "I'm not sure we are gettin' married."
"Why not?" He knew that Cal had mentioned the timing but he couldn't imagine that being an actual excuse.
"I don't...I don't know."
"Cal isn't Hugh."
"I know he's not," she snapped, her tone sharp. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" Her voice trailed off.
"Why are ye so hesitant?" Pat pressed.
Kate pulled a weed out of the dirt and looked at it. "I don't know. I mean, everything is fine right now and I'm afraid if something were to change...I just...I can't go through it again, ye know."
"How much of a change would a marriage even be?" He asked. "I mean ye already have a child together. There wouldn't be that much difference."
"No, but it'd make it harder to leave."
"Why would ye need to leave?"
Kate started to pluck the leaves off the plant in her hand and didn't respond.
Pat touched her arm to get her attention. "Katie."
She took a deep breath. "Cal's been lyin' to me."
"What?"
"About his drinkin," she explained. "He told me that he stopped but all he's stopped is drinkin' when I'm around. I'm afraid that...I suppose I'm bein' foolish."
"Ye know who ye should speak to about this?"
"Sarah?"
"Cal."
Kate shook her head. "And then I drive him away."
"Oh, Katie, do ye truly believe ye can drive him away? He dumped yer husband's body in the river with hardly a thought." He doubted there was anything she could say that would make Cal want to leave.
"Aye and ye killed him."
Pat felt the air go out of his lungs. It was one thing for that moment to live in his thoughts, his dreams...it was jolting to hear it spoken aloud. "Katie…"
"And I'm glad ye did," she quickly cut him off. "Ye know, I wish I had listened to ye when I first met him. I just thought...I thought ye were overreactin'. Ye can be a bit dramatic sometimes."
"This comin' from the woman who once threw a plate at me head," he said. "The man tried to murder me and ye thought I was overreactin'?"
Kate dropped the plant in her hands. "He tried to murder ye?"
"At the mill," he replied. "Ye remember…" The realization that he had never told her about what had happened suddenly struck him.
"Are ye talkin' about when ye tripped and fell on the blade?" She asked, a stunned look on her face. "Ye tellin' me Hugh was responsible?"
He nodded.
"Why didn't ye tell me?"
"It wouldn't have mattered," Pat said. "Ye still would've married him."
"Ye truly believe I would've married the man who tried to kill me brother?"
He had at the time. He had believed it more than anything. Kate had been so angry with him for years after he had arrived in Spokane. "I'm sorry."
Kate sighed. "I suppose none of that matters anymore."
"No." There was no point in dwelling in what ifs. The past was done and gone, just like Hugh. No matter how difficult it might've been to move on, they all needed to. "Cal is different," Pat said.
"Maybe."
John was jolted awake and he laid in bed for a moment, his mind working to figure out what was going on. There was a low rattling noise followed by a crash from somewhere in the house. Was the bed shaking? It wasn't the first earthquake he had experienced but most were so minor, he only knew of them long after they had happened. The moment everything stilled, he jumped out of bed and switched on the light. Voices in the hallway told him that everyone else was already awake.
"Outside, now," Pat said, the moment he opened his door.
They went outside. Sarah and Eileen immediately took a seat at the table, both looking sleepy and stifling yawns.
John moved to join them but Pat stopped him, handing him a flashlight. "Ye can help me check the house," he said.
"For what?" John asked.
His father had already moved away, his own flashlight directed at the walls.
John sighed and followed behind him. He shone his flashlight along the roof, outlining the windows with the beam. "What am I supposed to be looking for?" He tried again.
"Cracks," Pat replied. "Any sort of damage."
"Really? It didn't seem all that bad to me."
"Aye, but yer mother's concerned. And neither one of us wants to see the house come down about our heads."
"I see." John tried to think of something else to say as they worked, methodically circling the building, but nothing came to mind. They had hardly spoken to each other since Pat had returned home.
"Do ye remember when we went to Natatorium Park?" Pat asked suddenly. "Ye went on that slide like four times."
"I remember," John replied. "Why?"
"I was only thinkin' it might be fun to go again before summer's up. Eileen might enjoy it."
"Then take Eileen. I'm not interested."
"I read they're now settin' off fireworks every weekend."
"Don't bother pretending you'd be willing to sit through fireworks," John snapped. "We both know you couldn't do that without ending up back in—" He stopped abruptly at the look on Pat's face. He knew he had gone too far.
"Yer right. I shouldn't have brought it up," Pat said quietly. "I was just…I wanted to put everything back to normal."
John felt a sudden wave of frustration well up. His father had left everyone. His father had lied to everyone. Everyone else might've moved on already but he couldn't bring himself to forget the way his mother had cried. "And you think some fireworks will make up for taking off in the middle of Eileen's party? Fine. Let's go see some fireworks. Afterwards, we can take a boat ride. Maybe even go swimming."
"John."
"You abandoned everyone." John's voice rose as he spoke.
"I came back."
John rolled his eyes and started walking again. He didn't want to hear more excuses. He didn't want to hear apologies. He wanted to go back to before anything had happened and stop it from happening in the first place but that wasn't possible.
"I'm sorry I left in that manner," Pat said. "But I can't take it back."
"Mom was devastated."
"I know."
"Eileen too."
"I shouldn't have left that way. I admit it. Everyone deserved better of me."
"They deserved you not to leave in the first place."
"I had to."
John scoffed.
Pat stopped and turned on him. "I love yer mother more than I ever thought possible to love anyone and it breaks me heart every time she's out of me sight. But we needed money and I'd rather sacrifice me own happiness than let me family starve," he said. "When ye love someone, ye'll understand."
"You could have…" He had no answer.
Pat sighed and shone his light up near the roof. "Is that a crack or a shadow?"
"I think it's just a shadow."
"In that case, I think we're fine to be goin' back to bed." He lowered his light and started to join the others.
"I'm sorry I accused you of having an affair," John said suddenly.
Pat looked at him. "I'd never do such a thing to yer mother."
"I know," John replied. "It was just hard to see you so happy with that woman, knowing how unhappy you left mom."
"There wasn't a single moment when I was gone that I've been happy."
Sarah jumped up from the table at their arrival, a smile lighting up her face. She met Pat and kissed him before he had a chance to say anything.
Beside them, Eileen made a face. "Can we go in?"
"Absolutely," Pat replied.
"Can you carry me?"
"I got you," John said. He crouched down so she could climb onto his back. "Just don't strangle me too much."
Eileen immediately loosened her arms from around his neck. "I won't."
"Are ye sure ye can manage the stairs?" Pat asked.
"Better than you can, old man."
"Old man? I'll carry ye both up the stairs and then we'll see who's old."
"No, you won't," Sarah said, putting a hand on Pat's arm.
John laughed as he climbed the stairs. It may not last but he knew everyone was happy at that moment.
Kate had brought up his drinking once again. Cal could tell that she was terrified to mention it and hearing that fear in her voice nearly broke his heart. The thought of her being afraid of him was nearly too much to bear. At that moment, he made a promise to her and to himself that so long as she was in his life, he would never touch a drop of liquor again. He hated every moment of it, that lingering itch that never quite went away. The times when his thoughts grew a bit too loud, too grating, he tried to be close to Kate and her children but he still occasionally felt as though he was losing his mind.
There were many times that Cal wished desperately for a drink, especially as his money was beginning to run low. His thoughts turned, once again, to his factories. He knew that he should probably sell them as he didn't believe they were making any money but he knew that he needed to lay eyes on them first. It was the sort of thing his father would have done. But he was reluctant to leave Spokane. He feared how quickly he would fall back into drinking without Kate by his side, particularly if he ran into Dinah.
He considered it as he laid in bed with her, the feel of her hair against his face.
"What are ye thinkin'?" Kate quietly asked.
"Nothing at all."
"Cal?"
He sighed. "I think I need to go to Philadelphia."
Kate twisted around to face him. "Why? Are ye leavin' me?"
"No, no, no, of course not." He kissed her. "I just have to make a decision about my factories."
"I see." She looked unconvinced. "And how soon are ye leavin'?"
"I have nothing planned," Cal replied. "It's really just a thought."
"Oh." She turned away from him and sighed.
"I don't want to go," he said, wrapping an arm around her. "I don't want to leave you." He kissed the nape of her neck. "But someday soon I may not have a choice."
"I see."
He held her tightly. "I'm not leaving you," Cal assured her. "I promise. How could I possibly?"
Sarah had bought a new dress for her interview. But as she sat in front of the desk, her legs crossed at the ankles, she didn't think the dress was enough. It took everything she had to keep her foot from tapping anxiously on the floor. She wasn't certain if she had ever been more terrified. She almost would've preferred to be lowered down on another lifeboat than to sit across from the man who had already spent more time studying her legs than her face. But there was no turning back.
"Alright, Mrs. Murphy," he began. He glanced at her application and then immediately set it aside. "I see that you've never held a job before."
"No, this would be my first." Her heart pounded so loudly.
"And you've never taken a single typing class."
Sarah shook her head. "I taught myself."
The man picked up a pen and started to tap it against the desk. "How old are you?"
"Forty nine."
"And you're married, I assume?" He asked. "Not widowed?"
"I've been married for fifteen years now."
"Does your husband work? What does he do for a living?"
"He's working for the Project Works Administration at the moment." She didn't understand what Pat had to do with her interview but, as she had never been interviewed before, she wasn't sure what was normal.
"I see and how does he feel about you taking a job?"
"He's supportive," Sarah replied. Ever since he had bought her the typewriter, he had kept his eye out for jobs that she might apply to.
"I see." The man tapped the pen on the desk again. "Do you have any children?"
"Two. John is twenty-three and Eileen is ten."
That's quite a large gap in ages."
"My first husband died and I later remarried." Sarah tried to will herself to stay calm. She couldn't shake the feeling that the interview was going terribly.
The man shook his head. "That ten year old concerns me a bit. I need my typists to make this place their priority."
"She's in school during the day and my sister-in-law is willing to step in, if needed." She sat up straighter in her seat. "I can make this place a priority. I know I can."
He sighed. "I'm going to be frank with you, you seem pleasant enough but you're really not what I'm looking for."
"The ad said you were looking for women."
"Young women who'll bring an energy and youthfulness to the company," he replied.
Sarah felt a tightness in her chest and a burning in the back of her throat. "I'm...I have energy. I can—"
"Now, now. There's no need to get upset," he said. "When my mother was feeling bored, she took up quilting. I'm deeply sorry that you're not being fulfilled but there are hobbies you could pick up that aren't wasting my time."
"But I can type," she insisted. "I'm very quick at it and I never make mistakes. I can do the job and I can do it well. Please, all I'm asking for is a chance."
"Fine." He rose from his seat. "Come along."
Sarah struggled to keep up with him as she followed in his wake. He led her to a room full of young women sitting at typewriters.
"Sit here." He gestured to an empty seat.
She quickly did as she was told.
"Take this down." He thought for a moment before continuing. "In the meticulous examination of our financial records for the fiscal year of 1935, a matter of pertinence has surfaced that warrants your immediate attention. Upon careful scrutiny, it has been brought to our notice that there exists a misalignment in the figures concerning recent invoices. The numerical dissonance has created a palpable concern, requiring a diligent inquiry into the discrepancies that have manifested."
The man spoke so quickly that she had already missed the first few words before she had even realized what was happening. She rushed to catch up, twice striking the wrong key and once misspelling a word so badly it was no longer recognizable.
"To facilitate a comprehensive understanding," he continued. "I have appended a summary of the relevant figures herewith: Invoice No. 3142 dated March 15, 1935 – Discrepancy of $546 and Invoice No. 9628 dated September 22, 1935 – Discrepancy of $312. The aforementioned irregularities demand your astute examination and expertise in financial rectification. We kindly request your prompt attention to this matter, as the resolution thereof is imperative for maintaining the financial integrity of our esteemed company."
The moment he stopped speaking, the man tore the paper from the machine and looked it over. "Thank you for taking up my time, but, as I said earlier, I will pass."
Sarah walked home slowly as she struggled to keep the tears in. She was too old to be crying over a mild disappointment for that was what it was. It didn't matter and the man was nothing. But she still felt as though there was something unpleasant about her. Something unlikable.
She reached home and stepped inside to find Pat waiting for her, flowers in his hand. "I left work early so I could—" He stopped abruptly at the look on her face. "It didn't go well?"
Sarah shook her head and began to cry.
Pat set the flowers aside and immediately gathered her in his arms. "Oh, Sarah."
"He said I was too old and was wasting his time," she managed between sobs. "He said I should take up quilting. And then…and then he said I should type something but I was all flustered and overwhelmed and I made a complete mess of it." She had never been so humiliated.
"He said that? That son of a…" He let go of her and started for the door.
"Wait. Where are you going?"
"I'm goin' to have a word with him," Pat replied, anger in his voice. "He doesn't get to treat me wife in that manner."
"No, leave him be." Sarah took hold of his arm and pulled him away from the door. "It's not worth it and I was foolish to even try."
"No, yer not foolish." He gently wiped the tears from her face. "Yer goin' to practice some more and then yer goin' to try again."
She opened her mouth to protest.
"Not at Sosco, of course," Pat quickly said. "To hell with them. No, you'll find a better place. Someplace that recognizes how wonderful ye are."
"And if there are no places?"
"Then I'll start a business and hire ye meself." He paused. "Regardless, ye don't need to listen to that man. He's clearly daft and will probably drive that place out of business in a week. Ye deserve better."
Sarah wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Thank you," she said softly. "For choosing me."
"Easiest choice I've ever made in me life," Pat replied. "And I'd choose ye again in a heartbeat."
Thursday night had somehow turned into board game night with the children taking turns to choose the game, all except for Tommy who declared all board games stupid. Bridget always chose Sorry as it was the only game she always seemed to win.
Henry drew a card from the pile and read it aloud. "Must take one man from your start, place it on any margin square occupied by any opponent, and return that opponent's man to its Start. Um…" He studied the pieces on the board. "Sorry, Bridget," he said, moving his hand to one of her pieces.
"Nooo!" She covered her piece with her hands. "Mom's closer to you."
"But you have more pieces in Home."
"I said no."
Henry sighed and looked at Kate.
"It's fine," she said. "You can take me piece but ye won't get any presents for Christmas."
"I have to Sorry someone," Henry replied. "It's in the rules."
"You could forfeit your turn," Cal suggested.
Henry gave him a sharp look. "Fine, then," he said. He reached across the board and moved Cal's piece back to Start, putting his own piece in its place."
"Oh, I see how it is," Cal replied with a laugh. "If this next card is another Sorry, it'll serve you right." He flipped the card over to reveal a Three. "That doesn't count. That was a practice draw."
"There's no such thing as practice draws."
"Of course there are. It's in the rules that every adult gets one practice draw per turn."
"It is not."
Cal picked up the instructions. "Right here. It says every adult gets one practice draw per turn except for the turns during which they get two practice draws."
"Gimme that." Henry reached for the instructions but Cal quickly moved them out of his grasp.
Bridget snatched them from him. "It does say that and it also says that the prettiest player only needs three pieces in Home to win the game."
"Well, that's not you then."
"It is so and I win."
Kate watched them argue over the instructions, laughing as they all tried to make up their own rules. A suddenly overwhelming realization struck her. When she was a young girl and tried to imagine her future, this moment was what she saw. A happy family, a loving partner, plenty of laughter. She couldn't let it slip away. She caught Cal's eye and smiled. Then she took the instructions from Bridget and looked at them.
"What do they say?" Cal asked.
She stared at the page and tried to put her thoughts into words. It couldn't have been too late. She couldn't have waited too long. She took a deep breath. "It says that certain players may wishin' to ask a question once again because the answer might be different."
A silence fell over the group.
"Are you sure?" Cal asked quietly.
"I am," Kate replied. "As sure as I can be."
"I see. Well, in that case." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. "Kate, will you marry me?"
She nodded. "I think I will."
He pulled her close and kissed her. "Wait a moment," he said the moment they broke apart. Here." He took her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. "I'm sorry it's not much."
"Not much?" She looked down at the large stone, nearly the size of her finger, briefly stunned into silence. "Ye just had this in yer pocket?"
"I never stopped carrying it with me," he replied. "Just in case you ever changed your mind."
Bridget grabbed her hand to look at the ring. "Wow…can I be the flower girl?"
"No, that's stupid," Henry said. "Can we have a chocolate cake?"
"Chocolate cake is stupid."
"Whoa. Chocolate cake is never stupid."
"Fine, you're stupid then," Bridget snapped. "A flower girl is a very important person."
Kate laughed. "We'll see about both of those," she said. "First, we need to finish this game. I believe I'm about to win."
Henry made a face. "How? All of your pieces except for one are still in Start."
"For now," she replied, giving Cal a look. "Bad luck can turn around quickly."
Fall
"I don't see why I have to be the one climbing up roofs and crawling through windows," the young woman grumbled the moment Tommy opened his bedroom window. She wore a coat over her dress but her feet were bare.
"You said your father sleeps with a shotgun next to him," he replied, holding out a hand. "This seemed safer for everyone involved. Where's your shoes?"
"They fell off when I climbed from the tree onto the roof." She tried to jump down from the windowsill but her dress caught on a splinter in the wood. As she turned around to free herself, she bumped into a nearby table. The lamp sitting on it wobbled then crashed to the floor. They both froze as they waited for someone to have heard the noise but the house remained silent.
"That was close," Tommy whispered. "You need to be more quiet. My mom will kill me if she catches you here."
"I can be quiet," she whispered back.
"Can you?" He pulled her onto the bed and immediately kissed her.
The bedroom door suddenly opened and Tommy shoved her onto the floor.
Cal stood in the doorway, his arms crossed. "Is she coming or going?"
"Going. She's definitely going." Tommy grabbed the young woman and began pushing her to the window.
"But I'm…we were…" She stammered. "You said…"
"Go," he whispered urgently. "I'll talk to you later."
She sighed and climbed out the window.
Tommy immediately shut it behind her. "She was only…I had left something at school and she was…" He stopped abruptly. It was clear that Cal wasn't buying any of it. "Are you going to tell mom?"
"I don't care to keep secrets from your mother." Cal replied.
"I swear it'll never happen again."
"Has it happened before?"
Tommy thought of the other times he had helped women through his window or climbed through their own. "…no, of course not."
"What's her name?"
"She's very nice."
"I asked for her name." Cal studied him for a moment. "You don't know it, do you?"
"I did know it," Tommy insisted. "I just forgot it. I think it was Betty or Hetty. Hatty?" None of them sounded right.
Cal sighed. "Have you any idea how inappropriate and reckless you're being? Your behavior is entirely—"
"You don't have the right to lecture me about my behavior," Tommy snapped. "You're not my father."
"No, I'm not. And thank God your father isn't the one standing here right now. I think his reaction would be a bit different than mine."
Tommy had the sudden image of Hugh standing over his mother moments before he shot him. He shook his head. He knew that Cal was right but he refused to admit it. "It's not that reckless," he said at last. "She knows we're not going steady."
"And if she gets pregnant?"
"That won't happen."
"No? You can see the future? Do you really want to throw your life away?" Cal ran a hand over his face and sighed. "You have an actual opportunity to make something of your life. Seems absurd to risk that for someone whose name you can't even remember. Now, I better go before your mother comes looking for me. Goodnight."
Tommy watched as he turned to go. "Have you ever killed anyone?" The question slipped out before he could stop it.
Cal stopped in the doorway and looked at him. "No and you didn't kill anyone either."
"I tried to."
"But you didn't and that's what matters."
"Intentions matter." Regardless of whether he was successful or not, he remembered how much he had wanted Hugh dead, how much he had wished his aim had been better.
"Tommy, you were trying to protect your mother. You couldn't possibly have had any better intentions."
"Yeah, maybe." Tommy ran a hand over the bedspread, entirely unconvinced.
Cal still lingered. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, I don't."
"Goodnight, then." Cal started to leave. "By the way, this is a one time thing. Next time I catch a woman in your bed, I'm sending your mother in." He left, closing the door behind him, leaving the threat lingering in his wake.
Tommy threw himself onto his bed and laid back, his head on the pillow. He supposed he should consider himself lucky that it was Cal who had come to investigate the noise and not his mother. He supposed he was lucky that he hadn't been the one to kill Hugh so he didn't have to live with the final shots on his conscience. But he didn't feel lucky. He wasn't sure if he had ever felt lucky. If he had been lucky, his life would've been much different. He was certain of it.
A sudden tapping came from the window. He looked to see the young woman beckoning toward him. Tommy sighed and turned away. He wasn't much in the mood.
After what had happened at her last wedding, Kate wanted to stay far away from another church wedding. It was City Hall with only Pat and Sarah as witnesses, followed by a gathering at home with everyone.
Sarah had made sandwiches and brought drinks—non-alcoholic only—but Kate took care of the cake herself. She had baked it before the ceremony and left it on the counter to cool until later.
The gathering, itself, was subdued but in the best sort of way. Henry and Bridget had challenged Sarah and Pat to a game of Sorry. Eileen watched them play, humming along to Fred Astaire crooning from the radio, occasionally offering advice that was only sometimes helpful. Cal sat in the corner in a deep conversation with Tommy, Evy struggling to stay awake on his lap. Kate was thrilled to see them getting along and desperately wished to know what they were talking about but she knew better than to insert herself. It was enough to know they were bonding. At least she hoped they were.
With everyone occupied and enjoying themselves, Kate slipped away into the kitchen. She quickly whipped up some frosting—chocolate to please Henry. And then began to spread it on the cake, taking her time to make it smooth and enjoying the quiet and general feeling of contentedness. She looked up as Pat entered the room and smiled.
"Ye really made yer own weddin' cake," he said.
"Sarah offered to make one for me but I thought this was better for everyone."
"Her cookin's improved quite a bit, ye know."
Kate laughed. "She's never been terrible," she replied. "She's only a wee bit impatient."
Pat reached around her and stuck his finger in the frosting.
"Stop that or there won't be enough left for the cake."
"Are ye finally happy?" He suddenly asked.
"I believe I am," she said. "Although I'm a bit afraid to say it aloud. Like it might be taken from me at any moment."
Pat smiled. "I think yer allowed to be happy for a time. Ye deserve it, in any case."
There was a burst of laughter from the next room and Kate smiled to herself. She added the last scoop of frosting to the cake and smoothed it out. She could feel her brother watching her. "Can I help ye with anything?" She asked.
"I just want to say that ye look very nice and I like Cal and I'm glad yer happy," he said. "And I'm glad that I'm here to see it happen."
She looked at him, her brother, the man she had once hoped to never see again and thought of how much everything had changed. She hugged him tightly. "I'm glad yer here too."
Bridget stepped into the kitchen, wearing a brand new dress with a large velvet bow in her hair. The outfit served as a consolation for there being no need for a flower girl. "Can I help?" She asked.
"I've actually just finished but why don't ye clean out the bowl for me?" Kate handed her the bowl and a spoon.
Bridget shot Pat a triumphant look.
Pat laughed. "What's that look for?"
"I get to lick out the bowl and you don't."
"I see that."
"We won," Eileen said as she joined them in the kitchen. "Well, I won. You were losing but I fixed it. Can I have some cake?"
"I have to cut it first," Kate explained.
"Can I cut it?"
"No, I want to cut it," Bridget jumped in.
Kate laughed. "How about I cut it and you two can hand out pieces to everyone?" She took a knife and started to slice the cake. She caught Pat's eye and he smiled. She hoped that he was right and she would be happy for a time.
John wasn't entirely sure how it had happened but he showed up to work one morning, to find Jimmy working beside him. Of all of the PWA projects in Spokane, they just had to be assigned to the same one. He hated having to see the man on a daily basis. He hated even more when the man brought Dottie up. But what he hated the most was that he knew he had no valid reason to hate him. Jimmy had never been anything but pleasant. Even so, John was grateful that the work was difficult enough that most small talk was limited to breaks only.
"I've been meaning to talk to you," Jimmy said one day, coming up to him as they sat down for lunch.
"You talk to me every day," John replied, taking a large bite of his ham sandwich.
"This is different."
"Alright." He continued to eat, more of his attention directed to the passing traffic than the man beside him.
Jimmy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I know you and Dottie are friends," he began.
"Yeah."
"You've always been friends."
"Pretty much."
"And I'm not asking you to stop being friends because I don't have any right to ask such a thing but…just…"
John set down his sandwich and looked at him. "What is it?"
Jimmy took a deep breath before continuing. "Don't take her from me."
"What?" John assumed he must have misheard.
"I love her and I don't want to lose her."
"Why the hell would I take her from you?" The very question was absurd.
"Because I think you love her too."
"I've told you before that we're just friends."
"I know but I don't believe it."
John shook his head. "You talk to Dottie about this?" He couldn't imagine that Dottie would've been happy hearing her talked about, like she had no say in the matter. Even if he had wanted to take Dottie—and he didn't, they were friends and no more—he doubted she'd let him.
"No, I wanted to speak to you first."
"Well, maybe you should speak to her because I think she can make her own mind up about who she loves, which won't mean a thing anyway because we're just friends," John said. "Besides, I have…Helen, I suppose."
Silence fell over them as Jimmy considered. "Maybe, but you'll give me your word that you won't take her?"
"Sure, I promise I won't take Dottie away from you even though there's no reason for me to do so as there's nothing between us but friendship."
"And you won't—"
"If you don't let me finish my sandwich before break's over, I'm going to push you into traffic."
"Alright, sorry." Jimmy held up his hands. "I'll go."
John waited until he had moved away before he resumed eating. Jimmy was worrying over nothing. He was certain of it.
Dear sir,
I would like to congratulate you on your new marriage. From the little I know about Mrs. Brandt, she seems like a nice woman. I wish I could have I hope you are both very happy together.
Everything is going well here. Victor bought a factory–don't recall what it does–but he is making a great deal of money. Mother is quite proud. On the other hand, I've recently taken up painting. Mother is much less proud. She would prefer I went into business with Victor but neither Victor nor myself want that.
I don't know how often you find yourself back in Philadelphia but I wouldn't be entirely averse to seeing you again. If our paths happen to cross, I mean. I understand it'd be rude to presume otherwise.
Respectfully,
Arthur Hockley
Cal read the letter twice, his brow furrowed, as he tried to understand how Arthur had known that he had married. He had stopped writing to his children years ago after he had grown tired of never receiving a reply. Victor's letter, so blunt in its demand, never left his mind. He thought, perhaps Dinah was still keeping tabs on him but he couldn't see how that would lead to a congratulatory letter from his son.
"What do you make of this?" He asked, handing Kate the letter.
"He wrote back? I mean…" She suddenly looked sheepish.
"Wrote back?"
Kate took a breath. "Don't be upset but I might've written to him right after we married," she admitted. "I know ye miss him and it's not right that he isn't in yer life."
"I miss both of my children."
"Right, ye miss both of them." She handed the letter back. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have involved meself."
Cal looked at her. He was torn between irritation over her sending the letter without his knowledge but also gratitude for her having done so. He settled for kissing her deeply.
When they broke apart, Kate looked flustered. "I think ye should go to Philadelphia and see him."
"I'm not leaving you."
"Ye already said ye need to go."
"I know but—"
"This letter is a sign."
"Kate, I'm not—"
"This may be yer only chance to have a relationship with yer sons."
Cal knew that she was right but the thought of leaving her filled him with dread. The thought of being back in the old world, around Dinah and the countless other Dinahs, seeing with his own eyes how little his sons wanted to do with him…it was almost too much to bear. "If I go, I want you to come with me."
Kate shook her head. "I couldn't possibly."
"Kate, please."
She looked uncertain. "But there's the children and Evy and the house and the holidays are always so busy and…" She took a sudden breath.
"In the spring then," Cal said. "After the holidays are over with and we won't go for long. Just…if I have to step back into that world, I need you with me."
"Ye won't go without me, will ye?"
"No."
Kate sighed. "Alright then. But if Sarah can't or won't mind the children then I have no choice but to stay home."
"That sounds more than fair," Cal said, kissing her cheek. He knew that Sarah would never turn down the opportunity to fill her home with children.
"And I'll need to buy a new dress, I think," she continued. "In case we should run into yer wife."
" Ex -wife," he corrected. " You're my wife now. And I doubt we'll see her." He thought for a moment. "And if we do, you're more than a match for her."
Kate smiled. "Ye know, it's a real shame ye couldn't get yer children to come out here. It'd make everything so much easier."
He laughed. "To the wilds of Spokane? I'm sure they wouldn't dream of it."