Her Patchwork Family, page 8
Willie and Butch and Tucker all exchanged glances loaded with disbelief, resentment and rebellion. Felicity found herself sighing again. She had always loved school, but then she had never lived on the streets. She patted Camie and pulled the little girl’s plate and fork to her, nudging Camie to start eating scrambled eggs again.
“Do I get to go to school, too?” Katy asked, looking pleased rather than irritated.
“How old is thee?” Felicity asked, watching the woman next door prop her hands on her hips and behave as if she were about to storm over. Oh, dear.
“I’m seven years old, Miss Felicity. Donnie’s four.”
A seven-year-old forced to care and provide for a four-year-old. For a moment, Felicity could not speak. Even though she had known this already, hearing their tender ages struck her deeply. Her heart hurt. She pressed a hand over it.
“Katy, I believe that you will be able to attend school then.” Louise was carrying on the conversation for Felicity. “But Donnie will have to stay home and help Vista and Abel.”
Katy fired up. “But—”
“Don’t sass,” Tucker barked. “No kid four years old can go to school. Any sap knows that.” Then Tucker halted, looking shocked at his own outburst.
“I here,” Donnie announced. “Here.” And he pointed to the floor. “Katy school.” He pointed at his big sister.
Felicity smiled. Donnie had already adapted to having a home. No doubt the younger the child, the easier that would be accomplished. She looked at Tucker. Had he ever gone to school? Should she keep him home and tutor him? She didn’t know the answer to that. But she knew enough not to ask here and now.
She looked next door again, and was relieved to see her neighbor storm into her house and slam her back door. What was the fuss all about? Felicity’s stomach jiggled with unsettled nerves.
“I’ve never been to school but I could go with you, Katy,” Camie said from her place on Felicity’s lap. “I’m seven, too.”
“You could?” Katy’s troubled face cleared. “That would be nice. We could go together.”
Camie nodded vigorously and grinned at Katy.
Felicity called down the blessings from heaven on Katy, this sweet little girl who was somehow reaching Camie’s troubled heart. Felicity sipped her hot coffee, hiding her joy though her mouth quivered with the desire to grin. Thank thee, Father of the fatherless.
But why hadn’t Camie been sent to school this year and last year?
Soon the children finished eating. Hands, as usual, in his pockets, Tucker headed toward the carriage house. Willie and Butch grumbled their way to the sidewalk to pull weeds. Katy and Camie helped Vista gather the dishes and then followed like chicks behind a mother hen into the kitchen to help dry them.
Felicity told Donnie that he could get his box of blocks and play. Abel had bought them from a cabinet maker in town who made children’s blocks from odd remnants of wood. Donnie beamed at her and hurried to his box at the other end of the porch.
Her family had encouraged her as well as her sisters to let the Light lead them to their life’s work. And for a woman who had never meant to marry and have children, Felicity felt she wasn’t doing too badly at starting to understand how to keep children busy.
She turned to Louise. “Camie spent the night and we had no trouble with her except once.”
The grandmother pressed her lips together. “Did she cry out?”
“Just once. I went and talked to her a few minutes. Then she settled back down and fell asleep again.”
“She fell asleep again?” Louise echoed softly as if not quite believing this. “What a miracle. Miss Gabriel, you don’t know how this has worried my son and me. Made our lives miserable. I can’t even keep any live-in help. No one can bear the nightly—” the woman shuddered “—ruckus. I just have a woman who comes in to clean every day.”
That explained why Louise had opened the door when Felicity visited. “I don’t want to pry but why hasn’t Camie been to school?”
Louise shook her head. “My son stayed in the army for almost a year after the war. There was so much that still needed to be done. I wasn’t able to take charge of Camie till he came home. Mrs. Crandall insisted Camie stay in her care.”
“Mrs. Crandall didn’t send her to school?”
Louise looked pained. “She said that Camie would be tutored at home when the time was right. And that education for a girl wasn’t that important.”
Felicity reached a hand toward Louise’s but before she could say another word of comfort, an angry voice assailed her from behind. She turned and swallowed a barely suppressed groan.
“What is my granddaughter doing in this…” Mrs. Crandall seemed to be unable to say the words.
“Children’s home,” Felicity offered.
She ignored this. “Louise Hawkins, what do you mean to be sitting here with this, this…interloper? Who wants to spoil our lovely boulevard with baseborn children no one wants—”
Baseborn children? Felicity reared up. “No one is going to slander innocent children, poor orphans with no one to protect—”
Mrs. Crandall turned her back on Felicity. “Louise—”
Louise rose, stiff with obvious disapproval. “Alice, I will not let you barge in here and tell me what to do with Camie. You’ve done enough harm to that poor child.”
Felicity was worried that Camie might hear this exchange. She was just about to go to Camie and take her farther into the house when Vista slammed both kitchen windows shut.
Felicity turned back to the two women who were now quarreling in loud voices, nearly shouting.
Alice Crandall accused, “Your son never treated my Virginia right—”
“Your daughter was a conniving, spoiled little girl!” Louise snapped back. “There was a war on! How was my son supposed to stay here and cater to her every wish?”
“He didn’t need to enlist when my daughter was expecting their first child! He could have waited—”
“Waited to be drafted?” Louise actually shook her fist. “My son would never do such a cowardly thing! His country needed every able-bodied man and he volunteered!”
“He was needed here.” Alice leaned forward, red-faced. “My poor, sweet Virginia needed him! My daughter died and your son lives! And he made the last years of Virginia’s young life a misery!”
Felicity couldn’t believe the harsh words that were being used like swords between these two well-dressed, genteel ladies.
“I will not speak ill of the dead,” Louise said, standing with hands fisted. “But why did your daughter think that a whole nation of wives could do without their husbands as long as she had hers at home under her dainty thumb?”
Alice Crandall looked as if she had swallowed the wrong way. She turned an alarming bright scarlet.
Felicity was just about to call Vista for help when a familiar voice spoke up. “Miss Gabriel, sorry to bust in on things here, but I got those children we talked about the other day.”
Felicity looked past the two women and there was Jack who shined shoes down near the wharf. She popped up from her seat, grateful for his arrival. “Jack! Welcome to the Barney Home for Children! Who has thee brought for me?”
Four children, two girls and two boys, ranging in age from around three to eight, clustered around Jack. Felicity grinned. None of these children would fail Vista’s test for cleanliness. They were all scrubbed and dressed in faded but ironed and starched clothing. Their eyes were big and they stared at the two older women who had been shouting. A young woman probably around fourteen stood just behind Jack, glancing at the women and then away.
“Our church wouldn’t be bringing them to you but times are hard. We’re barely able to feed our children,” Jack apologized, his hat in his hand.
“I am delighted that thee has brought them.” Felicity went down the steps and stooped down to be at eye level with the newcomers. “Children, I’m so happy that thee have come. We have been waiting for thee to arrive. Now tell me thy names.” She looked at the eldest child.
Jack nudged the child’s shoulder. “Speak right up. This lady likes children.”
“I am Eugene, ma’am.”
“Welcome, Eugene.” Felicity shook his small hand.
Each of the other children said their names bashfully: Dee Dee, Violet and Johnny.
“Do you,” Alice Crandall demanded in a fire-and-brimstone pulpit voice, “plan to mix black and white children?”
Felicity should have been able to predict how this woman would react. “Orphans come in all colors, Alice Crandall.”
The woman responded with a loud huffing sound. “I will not tolerate this. I am going directly to my lawyer. I will not allow my only grandchild to be dropped off at an orphanage. If her father no longer wants her—”
This was the final pebble that released the avalanche. Outrage shot through Felicity like flames. From the little she’d seen of this woman, she imagined that Alice Crandall was responsible for much of Camie’s fear.
“Thee is wrong,” Felicity declared, facing the woman, “Tyrone Hawkins is just allowing Camie to visit the other children here. I don’t know why that should upset thee.”
Sniffing loudly, Alice Crandall marched down the steps and off toward the street.
As Felicity turned back to Jack, she realized that once again, her neighbor next door was peering out. Felicity guessed that her neighbor was responsible for this horrible scene. She must have been the one who had gone to Alice to tell her that she’d seen Camie at breakfast here. Felicity sighed and then scolded herself for it.
“Miss Gabriel, I thought that I would bring my granddaughter Midge along,” Jack said, gesturing toward the young woman with the children. “She has been seeking work and is very good with children.”
“Wonderful! Can she start now?”
Jack looked to Midge, who stepped forward and replied, “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” The very pretty girl beamed and curtsied.
Felicity smiled in return. “Thee may call me—”
“You will call her Miss Felicity,” Vista interrupted from the kitchen doorway, “even if she is a Quaker and doesn’t want us to use miss.”
Felicity shook her head. “And thee will call Vista miss, also. And the children and I will call thee Miss Midge. If one of us must be miss, then all of us will be miss.”
Grinning, Midge bobbed another curtsey. Vista chuckled, shaking her head.
“Also, Jack, though the children will all have chores, we will need a day maid and two laundresses. Will thee send women thee recommend to do the work?”
Agreeing to this, Jack told the children to be good, shook Felicity’s hand, and left to go to work.
Felicity sent the youngest boy to play with Donnie. She let Vista take Midge into the kitchen with the other children to get them set with chores for the day.
When it was just the two of them again, Felicity turned to Louise. “Thee may stay as long as thee wishes today. I hope that Tyrone will come this evening and we can discuss Camie and what is best for her.”
Louise nodded and sighed long.
Felicity resisted the urge to join her. Alice Crandall was a problem, all right. And Felicity’s spying neighbor, too. Felicity had expected some difficulty starting an orphan home. Evil always tried to stop good work. But could this unfriendly situation be changed for the better?
The shadows of twilight were about to be swallowed by night when Ty walked up to the Barney house. A visit at the end of the day from his mother-in-law’s lawyer necessitated he discuss his daughter with Felicity. Alice Crandall was the most troublesome woman he had ever known. Why hadn’t he seen that before he’d married Virginia? She hid her true face because she wanted me to marry her daughter. This thought was a boulder on his heart and lungs.
Then he thought of Felicity. To be honest with himself, Ty was drawn here just as his daughter had been. In a harsh world, Miss Gabriel seemed to beckon all the brokenhearted to her peaceful oasis. But would he disturb his daughter by coming here? He didn’t want to upset the small progress they’d made.
Passing by the side bow window, he found that he’d guessed right about where Miss Gabriel would be. She and her housekeeper were sitting on the back porch, fanning themselves. Ty resisted the urge to tug at his stiff white collar. When would the cooling west winds of autumn finally arrive?
“Tyrone Hawkins,” Felicity said, welcoming him with one of her irresistible smiles, “I was hoping thee would stop by this evening. Would thee like to go up and look in on Camie?”
“Is she…is she asleep?” He almost didn’t want to ask. In fact, despite what his mother had reported to him over supper, he had been surprised to walk up Madison Boulevard and not hear Camie’s screams.
“Of course. The children had a busy day. They weeded, dried dishes, played tag, jumped rope.” Felicity smiled. “They nearly fell asleep in their baths.”
“Baths?”
“Yes, we set up the large tub here on the porch and pull down the canvas shades. The girls go in first because for some reason,” Felicity wrinkled her nose and gave him one of her teasing smiles, “they don’t seem to get as dirty as the boys do. I find that freshly bathed children settle down more easily to sleep in warm weather.”
“And it keeps the sheets cleaner longer,” Vista commented.
Felicity chuckled.
The sound loosed something inside him. The back of his neck relaxed a degree and it didn’t hurt to draw breath. How could this woman affect him the way she did? Her smiles and laughter released his somber mood like uncapping a bottle of warm sarsaparilla. A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth.
Felicity rose. “Let’s take a walk.” She came to him. He automatically offered her his arm. She refused it with a smile, but nodded toward the alley.
A wise choice. The two of them could speak more privately walking down the tree-lined alley. He thought of what nasty gossip would spread if she had accepted his gallantry and he’d been seen walking with this woman on his arm. Again, he found he didn’t care very much.
He tried to tame his rampant thoughts about Camie, about this woman’s marked effect on her—on him—to begin a coherent discussion. He gave up and said what he really didn’t want to say. “You really didn’t have any trouble getting Camie to sleep?”
She glanced up at him. “No, she followed Katy right to bed. I spoke with thy mother this morning. She was quite candid about Camie’s night terrors. I have seen other children like Camie at an orphanage in Pennsylvania. I often helped the matrons get the orphans to bed at night. Some of them fought sleep or had nightmares that woke them up and frightened them.”
Other children? “What did you do for these children?” He found himself walking closer and closer to her. Was it true? Was his Camie not alone in these disturbing fears?
“The head matron had worked with children for years. She said that calm, consistent care helped the most. And when the children wished, letting them talk about their nightmares and fear. And being sympathetic and reassuring.”
“That worked?” he asked, gazing at her slender, graceful neck.
“It did for the children that I was caring for.”
Her calm tone and reassurance nearly unmanned him to tears. He swallowed a sob threatening to break forth. For months and months, he and his mother had tried to help Camie get past her fear of sleep. Now for the first time, he had hope that Camie would come through this and in time be just a normal little girl. Was that possible?
Felicity paused and glanced up at him. “May I ask thee a few questions? Personal questions?”
He tensed. No, I don’t want to answer any questions. He had hit bottom last night and they knew it. Still, answering her questions was the least he could do for the woman who had given him so much. “Yes,” he said, mustering his nerve.
“When her mother died, how old was Camie?” The deep concern for his daughter radiated with each word. This woman’s essence, her spirit, seemed always to be reaching out, offering help where needed.
“Around five years old.” Thoughts of Virginia made him see the difference between the two women. Felicity had the honesty and compassion that Virginia lacked.
“Do you think that Camie was a witness to her death?” Felicity asked.
Their footsteps crunched on the cinder-paved alley. Ty wanted to hide from shame. He was the father. He should have protected his child. He made himself reply. “Yes, her grandmother insisted she be at her mother’s bedside.”
Felicity nodded. “I’m sure that thy mother told thee about Alice Crandall’s visit—”
“My mother-in-law’s lawyer visited me today.” This admission ignited the acid in his stomach.
Felicity halted and gazed up at him. “What did her lawyer say?” Her pale skin glowed in the dim light.
“If I leave her in your care, Mrs. Crandall will try to gain custody of my daughter.” His voice shook, exposing his turbulent outrage.
Worry moved over Felicity’s pretty face and then disappeared. “I doubt that her suit will succeed.”
“Why?” The sky had turned nearly charcoal. Daylight was slipping away but he could still see her radiance—it drew him, soothed him, stirred him.
“It is very hard, isn’t it, to sever a parent’s right to a child? No doubt thy mother-in-law merely wants to make as much trouble for thee and me as she is able.”
“Experience has taught me that is her usual goal,” he muttered, old insults stirring inside. “In everything.” Yet overshadowing his anger, he sensed a fine thread of trust forming between Felicity and him.
“It is sad but true. Some people delight in causing strife and stirring up contention. Since our first meeting, I have been praying for Alice. But I sense that the walls around her heart are thick and towering.” Felicity shook her head in obvious sadness. An invisible warmth flowed from her to him.
How did this woman care so much? This world was so filled with grief, pain and cruelty. He sucked in air, keeping his unruly emotions under strict control.
