Away in a Manger (16 page)

Sid looked up from the stove. “I'm happy to celebrate the spirit of Christmas because it brings peace and goodwill,” she said. “And I'm all in favor of that. But the children shall also help me light the candles for each night of Hanukkah.” A smile spread across her face as she looked at Gus. “What a treat for us to celebrate the season with children. I already feel that we have been given our holiday gift.”

I swallowed back the news I was dying to share with them. It would not be fair to raise the children's hopes until I had something positive to tell them. So I waited until they were all three sitting threading popcorn and macaroni onto strings before I beckoned Sid and Gus out of the kitchen and told them the news. They were both excited.

“Montague's Fine Java. Of course we should have thought of that,” Gus said. “We used to drink it back in Boston. So how will you proceed? Will you take the children to meet their grandfather or will you write to him first?”

“I was told that he's very ill and not expected to live long,” I said. “I thought it would be more sensible to visit Eustace Everett first and show him the locket. Then he can take it to his uncle and give him the news at the right moment.”

“Good idea,” Sid said. She touched my arm. “Oh, Molly. I am so excited for the children. After what they have been through, to be reunited with a family who can provide for them well. It's such wonderful news.”

“We mustn't jump to conclusions,” I said. “Their grandfather cut their mother off without a penny because she married an unsuitable man. We can tell from what the children remember that their father was a loving and kind man and that their mother was happy with him. So the grandfather is clearly an inflexible and uncaring type. He may not welcome his grandchildren even now.”

“How could he not welcome two such adorable children?” Gus said. “Surely they would melt the hardest of hearts?”

“I hope so,” I said. “I'll pay a visit to Eustace Everett tomorrow morning if I can.”

“And I will pluck up courage and pay a call on wicked Aunt Hettie this afternoon,” Sid said. “I should tell her what we plan to do before nightfall so that she knows the children are safe.”

“Not that she'd care,” Gus said indignantly.

“But we don't want her to notify the wrong people either,” I said.

“Wrong people?” Gus asked.

“Someone, somewhere is clearly paying her to keep the children,” I said. “Otherwise, with an unfeeling nature like hers she would have turned them out long ago.”

“Perhaps their mother left enough money for their room and board and Aunt Hettie is keeping most of it and making the children sleep in the attic. But she's not turning them out completely in case the mother returns,” Gus suggested.

I shook my head. “There's more to it than that, Gus,” I said. “I'm still not sure we're doing the right thing by telling Aunt Hettie where the children are.”

“Would you have me send them back to her? Have them living in constant fear of when they might be thrown into the river, Molly?” Sid demanded.

“Of course not. I'd prefer to have her worry about where they might have gone and who they might have told about the way she treated them. It would serve her right to live with that worry and uncertainty.”

“But you do see that their mother would need to know where to find them, on the off chance that she returns to them,” Gus said.

I sighed, glancing down the hallway to make sure that little ears were not listening. “I think we have to assume that a tragedy has befallen their mother. I suspect she might have been to see her father, who rejected her yet again, thus causing her to end her own life in despair.”

“Let us then hope that the children melt their grandfather's heart of stone and are reunited with him before he dies,” Gus said.

Amen to that,
I thought.

*   *   *

I took Bridie home with me to find my mother-in-law had dinner on the stove and Liam sitting happily in his chair, thoroughly sticky with a slice of bread and jam.

“Well, here you all are,” she said, smiling at us. “So tell me about your afternoon excitements.” I could never tell from her expression whether she was annoyed, or felt that she was being taken advantage of, at being left home alone with Liam. Those things would only come out later when she'd casually mention them to Daniel. But perhaps I was misjudging her. Perhaps she was happy to be part of the family and to take care of us all.

“We made paper chains and then we strung popcorn for the tree,” Bridie said. “And Miss Walcott made gingerbread men and they were so good.”

Daniel's mother nodded, trying to find it in her heart to approve of the actions of my neighbors of whom she so heartily disapproved. “And how was Miss Van Woeken?” she asked. “Is she well?”

“She looks very frail, but she has looked that way since I first met her,” I said.

“I forget now—when did you meet her?”

“Soon after I arrived in New York.” I went to pour myself a cup of tea.

“And how did your paths cross? I wouldn't have thought you moved in the same social circles in those days.”

I smiled. “I was her companion. I had to push her around the park and read to her. Our relationship was quite thorny at first, but we came to respect each other and now I'm actually rather fond of her.”

“But you didn't stay long as her companion?”

“No, I couldn't stay any longer after I discovered—” I broke off what I had been going to say. After I discovered Daniel had deceived me and was engaged to another woman. And that other woman was another goddaughter of Miss Van Woekem. Painful memories flashed through my mind. “I decided I was not cut out to be a servant,” I said. “I was more suited to running my own business. I wasn't born to be humble.” And I managed a bright smile.

“When are we going to get a Christmas tree?” Bridie asked.

“Daniel said that we should go out and choose one before the good ones are gone,” I replied, “but I'd much rather wait until he's home and can come with us.”

“He may not be up to walking around much for a while,” Mrs. Sullivan said. “And he certainly shouldn't be jostled by crowds. It could open the wound again.”

“You're right,” I said. “Then it's decided, Bridie. We'll all go to choose the tree tomorrow. But we'll wait to decorate it until Captain Sullivan is home with us.”

“Do we have any indication when that might be?” Daniel's mother asked.

“In the next few days, he seemed to think. He was looking so much better already.”

“He'll be home for Christmas. That's all that matters,” she said.

She went across to the shelf and took down a cardboard box. “I'm not sure whether you have any ornaments, after your fire this year,” she said. “So I've brought down Daniel's favorites from when he was a little boy.”

She started to unpack them from tissue paper, one by one: bright glass balls of various sizes, a blue glass bird with a feather tail, a tiny glass trumpet, a glass acorn, a bunch of grapes. Then a star to put on top of the tree, and candleholders for the branches.

“They are lovely,” I said. “I was wondering today what we'd use to decorate the tree, and here you've provided everything we need once again.”

“And don't forget my popcorn chain,” Bridie said.

“Of course not. No tree would be complete without chains. And we should decorate some walnuts to hang on the branches. And maybe some small apples.”

Bridie nodded with satisfaction. “It's going to be the best tree ever,” she said.

We were just sitting down to dinner when there was a knock at the front door. I went to open it and found Sid standing there.

“I did it, Molly,” she said. “I went to see her—the old witch.”

“And?” I asked.

“She was quite as horrible as you describe. The most unpleasant woman I've ever encountered. Interested only in money, I came to realize. I told her that we had seen the children begging and decided to do the charitable thing by taking them off the streets until the weather gets warmer. I asked if she had any idea what might have happened to their mother so we could help locate her. She claimed she had no idea. Walked out and left the children and never came back. That's all she knew. I said that of course I realized she had a business to run and couldn't be responsible for someone else's children. So we'd obviously be doing her a favor by taking them off her hands, and if she did hear anything that might lead us to their mother, of course there would be a reward.”

She looked at me angrily. “You should have seen her eyes light up at the word ‘reward.' Until then I could tell she was ambivalent, not sure if she was being tricked into something, or accused of not treating the children properly. But then she was all smiles and said she'd be sorry to lose the little dears, but of course she didn't have the time or space to care for them like we could. ‘Please give the little dears my fondest wishes,' she concluded.”

“You handled it very well, Sid,” I said. “Won't you come in?”

“No, I need to be there to assist Gus with bath and bed.” She smiled. “This is quite a new experience for us—to be instant parents. I rather like it so far.”

I watched her as she hurried back across the street. Parenting was a novelty to them—their latest fad. But what would happen if we did not reunite the children with their family? If they realized they were to be stuck with two children for the long term? I pushed aside that worrying thought as I closed the front door.

 

Eighteen

We spent the evening talking about Christmas preparations. Bridie was determined to knit Emmy a new scarf, even though she wouldn't have to be out in the cold anymore. Daniel's mother was also busy with her knitting, finishing up a jacket for Liam. Never having been the world's best knitter, I felt inadequate. I realized Daniel and I had talked about Liam's Christmas present, and also a surprise for Bridie, but as yet I had nothing for Daniel, his mother, or Sid and Gus. I had expected to have ample time to think about these things, not to be embroiled in yet more worries.

On Wednesday morning I bundled up the children and we all went together to the Jefferson Market, which was in full early morning swing. Piles of vegetables on stalls all around. The earthy aroma of potatoes mingling with the strong smell of Brussels sprouts, and among them sprigs of holly, of mistletoe. Then the occasional flash of color, mounds of squash and pumpkins, a display of oranges, some of them wrapped in foil, ready to be stocking gifts.

We smelled the Christmas trees before we found them—that delicious fresh piney smell. And there they were—spruce fresh from New England and Upstate New York. Bridie gave an excited little squeal and darted forward. “They are so beautiful,” she exclaimed.

We stood back and let her choose, smiling at each other when she chose modestly, not the biggest tree, but one that she could lift herself. We also bought nuts and butternut squash to roast, a pumpkin to make into soup, and a sprig of holly. Bridie insisted on carrying the tree home herself. Once home, we put it in a bucket of water outside the back door so that it would still be quite fresh when Daniel came home.

Bridie asked to let Tig and Emmy see our tree and went over to fetch them. When they came back, I showed the children how to make paper snowflakes and left them sitting deep in concentration at the table. Then I decided I had enough time to slip away before visiting hours at St. Vincent's Hospital.

“Would you mind if I went out for a few minutes?” I asked my mother-in-law. “We've been trying to locate the children's family and I think we might finally have a lead.”

“Really? But aren't they English?” Mrs. Sullivan asked me. “Do they have family over here?”

“They came over from London, to be sure,” I said, “but I now think that their mother was American and she brought them back here after their father died, hoping to be reunited with her family here. Does the name Montague mean anything to do?”

She thought for a minute, then shook her head. “There is no Montague I can think of in Westchester County, and I've no real knowledge of society within the city these days.” She looked up at me. “But you go and do what you can. The children are happily occupied and the little fellow just likes being with them.”

I kissed her cheek. “You are very kind to us and I do appreciate it. I'm glad you're part of our family at Christmas.”

She looked rather embarrassed and pleased, and I realized that she must be lonely in that big house in Westchester County and glad to be with us. I took the locket in its little leather box, put it in my purse, then I bundled up and went out into the snowy streets, catching the Sixth Avenue El to the Upper West Side. It was this train that had almost killed me and my son and I still had qualms about boarding it, but I told myself not to be so silly. Accidents happen and one accident was not going to spoil the rest of my life. All the same, I found I was holding my breath as the train rounded the sharp curve to join the tracks of the Ninth Avenue train.

We arrived without incident and I descended at the Sixty-sixth Street station, heading toward the park. The sun came out between clouds as I approached the park and it gleamed and sparkled like a winter wonderland. Even though I was in a hurry and had a task to complete I couldn't help going up to the railings, watching the bright figures skating on the lake and small boys dragging sleds behind them. A perfect scene for the Christmas season, I thought.

Then I turned to that magnificently monstrous edifice, the Dakota building. It was the first luxury apartment block built so far north, away from the center of town and at the edge of the park. Hence the name—so far west that it was almost in the Dakotas. Now the city had spread north and west to join it, with other such apartment buildings rising in majestic splendor on this side of the park, while the East Side now boasted its museums and mansions. I went up to the imposing front entrance, where a doorman in full livery greeted me, and asked for Mr. Eustace Everett's residence.