Until We Reach Home (45 page)

Chapter Thirty-Four

K
IRSTEN WORKED
IN her aunt’s boardinghouse all day, keeping one eye on the clock as the supper hour approached. When the time came for the boarders to return home, she removed her apron and hung it on a hook. “I’ll be right back,” she told Elin.

She slipped out of the back door as if visiting the privy but headed down to the street corner instead. Kirsten knew where the streetcar stopped near the boardinghouse, but she didn’t know what time Knute Lindquist arrived home on it in the afternoon. The last time she had seen him was at the mansion after Mrs. Anderson’s funeral, but she hadn’t dared to speak with him. She hated her helplessness, hated taking advantage of his good nature by asking him for help, but he was the only friend she had in Chicago, other than her sisters. If God was punishing them by sending all this bad luck, Kirsten suspected that it was because of her, not Elin and Sofia. She loved her sisters. She needed to find a way to help them.

She waited for Mr. Lindquist for what seemed like a very long time, watching people get on and off the streetcars. They had places to go, work to do. They knew their way around Chicago and knew how to speak English. She envied their freedom.

Finally, just as Kirsten was ready to give up, Mr. Lindquist stepped off one of the cars. His face wore the dead expression she’d seen on the other passengers’ faces, staring down at the ground, not really noticing his surroundings. He would have walked right past Kirsten if she hadn’t called his name.

“Mr. Lindquist!”

“Miss Carlson? What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been waiting for you. I hope you don’t mind, but I need to talk to you.”

“Do you want to walk to the park?”

“I would hate for you to miss dinner at the boardinghouse. I know my aunt never saves food for anyone.”

“It doesn’t matter. Let’s walk.” His stride was longer than hers, and she had to hurry to keep up with him.

“Did you hear what happened? How we were accused of stealing?” she asked as they walked.

“Of course. The rumors were all over the newspaper office. I didn’t want to believe they were true.”

“They weren’t true! Did you also hear that they found out we were innocent?”

“Yes, I heard.”

“Well, we’ve been looking for another job, and we can’t find one. No one wants to hire us, even though they know we aren’t thieves. Pastor Johnson said Bettina Anderson hates us. I don’t know what else to do, so I wanted to ask if . . . if you would hire me.”

“Hire you? What for?”

“You said you wanted to send for your son, and I thought that if you did, I could take care of him for you. I could also keep house and cook for you, and—”

“I’m certain you could find a better job than that. I couldn’t pay you very much. Surely there are better jobs.”

“I don’t need much money. Just enough to afford a room where my sisters and I can live.”

“Would you like me to inquire about a job for you with another Swedish family?”

Kirsten didn’t reply. She saw an empty park bench and walked over to it and sank down, determined not to cry. Even if Mr. Lindquist did find her another job, she would be fired when her pregnancy began to show. Her sisters would likely be fired, as well. She wished he hadn’t saved her life.

Mr. Lindquist sat down beside her a moment later. “What’s wrong, Kirsten?”

She had to tell him the truth. She had no other choice.

“I can’t work for anyone else because . . . because when the truth comes out . . .”

“What truth?”

“I’m going to have a baby.” She glanced over at him and wasn’t surprised to see the shock on his face. She gave him a minute to absorb it.

“Now you know why I tried to kill myself. When people find out, my sisters will be disgraced, too. I don’t know what else I can do except work for someone like you, someone who knows the truth. I’ve been trying day and night to figure out a solution, and I can’t think of one.”

“Where is the baby’s father?”

“In Sweden. He doesn’t even know about it. Remember how I told you that Tor’s father is destroying all of my letters? I can’t get in touch with Tor to tell him.”

Mr. Lindquist didn’t reply. He was silent for such a long time that Kirsten could no longer stand it.

“I do know right from wrong, Mr. Lindquist. I’m not an immoral person, just a very foolish and lonely one who made a terrible mistake. After my parents both died, I needed comfort so badly—and Tor said that he loved me. He promised to marry me.”

Mr. Lindquist still said nothing. Kirsten had never met anyone who could sit so still, barely breathing, as if carved from stone.

“You must remember how desolate it felt when you were grieving,” she continued, “how you longed to talk to someone who understood you, someone who would hold you and let you weep.”

When Knute still didn’t reply, Kirsten said, “I’ve shocked you. I’ll understand if you don’t want anything more to do with me.” She started to rise.

“Wait.” He laid his hand on her arm to stop her, just as he had the last time. Once again, the weight of his touch was a painful reminder that Tor would never hold her again. Perhaps no man would.

“I do remember how it feels,” he finally said, “and if anything shocks me, it’s the fact that this young man would take advantage of your grief in such a despicable way. How old are you?”

“My birthday is in a few days. I’ll be nineteen.”

“Isn’t there a family member or a pastor over in Sweden who could help you? I would be willing to help you compose a letter and explain your situation. This young man needs to come forward and take responsibility.”

Kirsten swallowed, knowing that she would have to reveal even more of her shame. “There is no one in Sweden who can help me. Tor’s father is an important man in the village, and he doesn’t believe that my baby is his son’s. No one in town will believe me, even the pastor, because my father’s death was a suicide. My sisters and I left Sweden in disgrace.”

“I see.”

“I never would have bothered you, Mr. Lindquist, except that I’m desperate. I thought maybe you would hire me to take care of your son and cook for you. All I need is enough money to rent a room where my sisters and I can stay. They’re trying to find work, too, and we don’t know where else to go or what to do.”

“When will your child be born?”

“Around the New Year, I think.”

“Do your sisters know?”

Kirsten stared down at her feet. “I’m too ashamed to tell them. But the baby is starting to grow, and . . .” Her voice trembled at the thought of how disgraced she would be, walking around in public in that condition. “If only I had a place to hide,” she finished in a whisper.

“I understand.”

Again, Kirsten noticed his unnerving stillness. Not a muscle twitched, his chest barely rose with each breath. Finally he spoke again. “I need to give the problem some serious thought,” he said at last. “Perhaps I can ask discreetly if someone at work knows of a position for you and your sisters. Maybe there is even a family who is willing to adopt your child.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. But Kirsten knew that she had exposed her shame for nothing. Mr. Lindquist wouldn’t be able to help her, either. She sighed. “We may as well go back.”

He stood and helped her rise, then set off at his brisk pace. He chose the shortest route back to the boardinghouse. Once again, Kirsten had to hurry to keep up with him.

“You don’t want someone like me taking care of your son, do you?” she asked.

“That’s not true. I’m certain you would be very good with Torkel. But I am a widower. It wouldn’t be proper for a young unmarried woman to work for me. I’m sorry.”

“I understand.” But she didn’t. She was trying so hard not to cry. That’s all she seemed to do around him. He would surely view her as a hysterical woman, playacting for his sympathy. Kirsten hated pity most of all.

“I am going to find a way to help you, Kirsten. Just let me think about it some more. I’ll walk here to meet with you again after we’ve eaten dinner.”

She didn’t have much of an appetite that evening. Her sisters were solemn throughout the meal, too. Kirsten recognized their fear and desperation—they mirrored her own. Aunt Hilma would kick them out if they didn’t find work soon.

“I’m going for a walk,” Kirsten said after the dinner dishes were washed and dried.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Sofia asked.

“No thanks.” Kirsten hurried away before anyone could stop her.

The summer evenings remained light until quite late at night, making the walk pleasant, even though Kirsten dreaded the outcome. Knute Lindquist wouldn’t find a solution. There simply wasn’t one. She slowed her steps, closing her eyes to hold back her tears, walking blindly as she offered up a prayer.

Lord, I’m so sorry for what I did with Tor. Please forgive me. Please help me figure out what to do.

She saw Mr. Lindquist before he saw her, standing by the bench with his hands in his pockets and his back turned. The residual sunlight shone on his fair hair, turning it to gold. She was afraid to hope that he had thought of an answer for her dilemma, fearing instead that he would want nothing more to do with her. She crossed the grass to stand beside him, afraid to look at him, afraid to speak.

“We will be married,” he said simply. “That is, if you are willing.”

Kirsten stared up at him. This was not at all what she had expected to hear. “Married?” she breathed. It was inconceivable that he would even consider it.

“I could give your child a father and you could give mine a mother.”

“But I-I never expected . . . Why would you do that?”

“Helping someone in need might be the only happiness I dare hope for after everything that has happened.”

Kirsten was speechless. She didn’t know this man. How could she marry him? It occurred to her that it would be no more unusual than marrying one of the strangers in Wisconsin, and at least she wouldn’t be deceiving Mr. Lindquist into thinking the child was his. She would be able to help her sisters, and they would never need to know the truth about her baby.

“You’re giving me more than you’re getting in return,” she finally said. “I would be willing to work for my room and board. . . . I wasn’t expecting marriage. Why would you make such an extravagant offer?”

“I know it sounds strange, but I’ve felt alone in my grief for a very long time. The fact that you share such loss makes me feel as though we have something in common. If someone could have helped me through my difficult time, I would have been grateful. Now I have the opportunity to help you. I think it’s time I thought about someone else besides myself.”

She sank onto the bench as she tried to comprehend his offer. He sat down beside her a moment later.

“Marriage is for such a long time, Mr. Lindquist, and—”

“You’re wrong. Nothing in life is as permanent as we would like to think.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“I don’t need an answer right away, Kirsten. You need to consider my offer carefully. I can’t promise I’ll be easy to live with, and you need to understand that I’m not expecting you to be my wife in every sense of the word. I could never love anyone the way I loved Flora. I would be too terrified to risk falling in love again. That’s why I haven’t married.”

“I understand. And you need to know that I wouldn’t be doing this just for my baby and myself. I need to help my sisters. We still owe money for our passage to America. That’s why we were working for Mrs. Anderson. I wouldn’t expect you to pay our debt.”

“We can work something out. If I were to send for my son, I would have to pay a nursemaid to care for him. Paying your fare would be no different.”

“That’s very generous of you.”

“And your sisters can have a home with us for as long as they need one.”

Kirsten drew a deep breath as if about to plunge into cold water. “In that case, I don’t need to think about it. I want to accept your offer.” Elin and Sofia would have a home. And a future.

“With any luck your sisters will think the child is mine,” he said as he rose from the bench. “Everyone will. The child will bear my name.”

Kirsten struggled to comprehend the enormity of Mr. Lindquist’s proposal as they walked back to the boardinghouse. She wanted to ask him once again why he would do so much for her, especially since he knew the truth about her past. He was giving her a gift she had no right to expect, offering much more than he was receiving in return. She recalled what Sofia had said about God’s forgiveness, comparing it to an unexpected gift when it wasn’t even her birthday. Could God have answered her prayer for forgiveness so quickly? Kirsten didn’t want to cry, but she was finding it hard to hold back her tears.

“I don’t know how I can ever thank you,” she said, her voice trembling.

“I know you will be a good mother for my son. The compassion and concern that you have for your sisters show me that you are a very loving person.”

“I’m so grateful to you. More than you’ll ever know.”

When they came within sight of the boardinghouse, he stopped again. “I don’t want to rush you, Kirsten, but people can count off the months, where babies are concerned. Once you are certain that you want to accept my offer, we probably shouldn’t waste time.”

“I am certain. I’ll do whatever you say.”

“Can you meet me here tomorrow during the lunch hour? If you still believe you’ve made the right decision after you’ve had a night to think it over, we can go to City Hall and apply for a marriage license. Then we’ll talk to Pastor Johnson and arrange a quiet wedding in his study—unless you would like to do it properly and announce the banns in church? In that case, we will be married three weeks from now.”

“I don’t want to wait. Aunt Hilma won’t let us stay in the boardinghouse that long. She would gladly kick us out tomorrow if we had a place to go. But are
you
sure you want to do this? I still don’t understand why you would agree to marry someone like me. If anyone learns the truth about me it could ruin your reputation—your life.”

He looked down at the ground. “I wouldn’t call what I’m living right now ‘a life.’ I don’t want to exist this way forever, nor can I marry a woman who would have every right to expect me to love her in return. And I do want to see my son.” He finally looked up at her. “I’m sure, Kirsten. Are you?”