Eight

Josie curled on the couch with a copy of The Grapes of Wrath. She set the copy to the side and stared out the window. Miss Adelaide had foisted it on her the last time she stopped at the library. While she’d enjoyed the movie, she struggled with the book so far. When the passing traffic served to hold her interest more than the book, there was a problem.

“Must be me.” She shook her head and looked at the book. Maybe the lazy June heat prevented her from comprehending what she read. Josie reached behind her, pushing the lace curtain to the side. Not even the hint of a breeze slipped through the open window.

The thump of steps on the stairs pulled her from her drowsy state. A light knock beat a rhythm on the door. With a sigh, Josie pushed off the couch and walked to the door. “Yes?”

“Is this the residence of Mr. and Mrs. Wilson?” A voice that sounded overly cultured filtered through the door.

“Yes.” Josie opened the door.

A slight woman dressed in a neatly tailored suit with a smart hat bobbing on top of her upsweep stood in front of her. The plaid of her suit matched the currently popular ones Josie had seen in catalogs. “I’m Miss Annabelle Rogers. Here to do a home visit in anticipation of you receiving a child.”

A home visit for a child? What could the woman mean? Unless it had something to do with the unanswered telegram.

“May I come in?”

“Yes.” Josie shook the woman’s hand and invited her in. “I have to admit I’m confused about why you’re here.”

“May I?” Annabelle inclined her head toward the couch.

Warmth filled Josie’s cheeks. Where were her manners? “Of course. Would you like anything to drink?”

“Not now, thank you.”

Josie sank into the armchair and studied the woman, who couldn’t be much older than she was. She pulled files and a small notebook from a leather briefcase, setting them in a precise order next to her on the couch. Her nails were painted a rich red that matched her lips. And her face was pleasant though not beautiful. With her files arranged, she looked up with a tight smile.

“I’ve been hired by the families sending their children to the United States to ensure the homes are suitable for children.”

Josie’s back stiffened at the words. Not suitable? Of course, she and Art would make wonderful foster parents.

“You’re one of a few families in Cincinnati. Most of my time will be spent in Canton.” Josie’s face must have reflected her confusion, because the woman rushed to continue. “The Hoover Company is arranging transit for almost one hundred of its employees’ children.”

“How does this impact us? Art’s distant cousin asked us to take a child. We haven’t heard anything since answering that we were willing, but surely they wouldn’t ask if they didn’t want us to have the child.”

Annabelle’s eyebrows raised, and she shook her head slightly. “You don’t have children yet, do you?”

Josie swallowed as she tried to again decide how to answer the question. She did have a child. Just not here in her womb or arms.

“Once you do, you’ll understand a parent’s need to ensure those caring for their children are qualified.” The woman opened a file and made some notations. “How long have you been married?”

The questions spilled on top of each other until Josie felt drained. Annabelle finally asked for a tour of the space. She continued to make notations, leaving Josie exposed. If only she’d had notice and the opportunity to clean. She cringed each time she noticed a cobweb or a dust bunny. Would they not receive this child all because every surface didn’t sparkle? She couldn’t let the child down like that.

Finally, the woman collected her files and smiled her smug, slightly superior smile. “That should be all. Thank you for your time.”

“Is there anything else we need to do?”

“Once I’ve met your husband, we should be done, unless I have additional questions.”

“It shouldn’t be a problem to meet Art. We’ll get a time from you? When will we learn the date the girl arrives? Do you know anything about her?”

“The children are scheduled to journey over in July. I will meet the group and chaperones in New York and journey with them to Ohio. If Cassandra Wilson’s parents agree you are suitable, you can expect to have her join you within six weeks. Time is critical in getting the children away from the war.”

Josie nodded. She couldn’t imagine not having the child, Cassandra, join them. Sometime during the last hours, she had fully committed herself to welcoming this child. So their lives would need some adjustment. Everything worth doing required a sacrifice. And if they could ease the child’s life for a period, so much the better.

“Will you be of assistance once the child arrives?” She cleared her throat. “Once Cassandra joins us?”

“Yes. I’ll have ongoing site visits and be available to answer questions. You won’t be left alone to figure out what to do.” Now that the interview had concluded, it was as if a layer of ice had slid from Annabelle. “I will do my best to ensure that the match is successful for the duration.”

“Thank you.” Josie stood at the door after Annabelle left. Soon Cassandra would join them. She looked around the room, seeing a thousand items to take care of before then.

❧

Art fought the urge to laugh as Josie spun around the rooms in her perpetual motion that hadn’t eased since Annabelle Rogers visited a week earlier. She flitted near him, and he pulled her into his lap.

“Here, rest a moment. You’ll wear yourself out before another day passes. You need to reserve some energy for the child, you know.”

She pouted, lips puckered but sparks in her eyes. “I know. But I refuse to leave one thing for that Annabelle to find fault with. I can tell she’ll be a hard taskmaster.”

“I thought you said she warmed to you.”

“Yes.” She drew the word out to several syllables. “But I won’t make it easy for her to mark us down on her forms.”

He chucked her under her chin. “Maybe she’s writing us up.”

“Maybe. But I don’t think so.”

“Well, you’ve made the decision easy for me. Pack an overnight bag. First thing in the morning, we’ll load the Packard and head home for the weekend.”

Her shriek left him rubbing his ear, hoping he’d hear in the morning.

“You mean it?” He nodded as she squealed again. “It will be wonderful to go home.”

“Then we will. Who knows when we’ll get away again once Cassandra arrives.”

Her kiss was all he needed to know the suggestion was perfect. It would be good to visit family, maybe see some friends.

The next morning, they were up early, Josie pushing to get them on the road. The Packard carried them down the highway. With the windows rolled down, the breeze ruffled Josie’s hair and kept the heat from stifling the car. The miles ticked by until they finally pulled into Dayton. Art wound through the southern neighborhoods until they neared the area surrounding the University of Dayton.

Josie’s family’s home nestled on Volusia Avenue south of the university, where her father taught. Stately trees lined the street where the homes had yards unlike even a couple blocks away where the houses practically touched each other. As he parked, Art braced himself for the barrage that was sure to come. Her family moved at a different pace than his and seemed to have only one gear: fast and loud.

“Oh, I hope they haven’t left already.” Josie leaned out the window and bounced as she waited for him to open her door.

He rolled his eyes. “It’s only eleven. I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

“You don’t know us very well yet.” The use of us was softened only slightly by the smile on her face. She wasn’t part of that us anymore. He was supposed to be her only family. He opened the door, and Josie accepted his hand, giving him a dazzling smile in the process. Maybe he’d overlook her words. She didn’t really mean them. “Come on, slowpoke.”

Josie rushed through the front door as if she’d never moved into her own home. “I’m home. Mom? Dad?”

A squeal that could only come from her kid sister split the air. “Josie.” Clomping feet indicated Kat barreled their way. She was dressed in a baseball uniform and almost knocked Josie down when she barreled into her. “You’re here.” After a quick hug, she slugged Josie in the shoulder. “Why’d you stay away so long? Did you get married or something?”

Josie giggled and locked arms with Kat. “Do you have a game today? Can we come?”

“Sure. But we have to leave soon. Dad’s taking me since Mark says he has to study.” The look on Kat’s face communicated she didn’t believe him. “You’d think he’d want to come.”

“Let us come instead. We’d love to. Right, Art?”

He tried to look eager at the chance to sit in the hot sun and watch kids play ball. If he were going to watch ball, he’d rather it be the Reds. But if it would keep Josie happy, he’d do it. He’d take a magazine with him. After all, how well could girls play?

Josie’s mom hurried out of the kitchen. A large apron was tied around her waist, but flour dotted her sleeves and face. “Josie.” She pulled her daughter into a hug and whispered something in her ear. Josie nodded.

“I’m so sorry about the baby. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Josie nodded. “I’m fine, though there are days.”

“We’re still praying for you.” Mom stepped back. “Let’s get you a quick bite before the game.”

Art and Josie joined Mr. Miller at the game. The team turned out to be co-ed, thanks to Kat’s presence, and Art had to admit that for a girl, and a young one, she played well.

“Where’d she learn?”

“Mark. I think that’s why she’s hurt he won’t come to her games.”

“How many does she play in a week?”

“At least two if it’s anything like prior summers.”

Art shook his head. This girl was unlike others he knew. To be that committed to a man’s game. Why hadn’t Mr. Miller talked to her about the need to act like a lady? She was approaching fourteen and playing with men after all.

“I’m glad our girls won’t do things like that.” The words must have left his mind via his mouth because Josie turned on him.

“I would hope that any child of ours who wanted to participate in physical activity would have the chance. If that means organized teams, what of it? You have to admit Kat is good.”

She was. And there lay the problem. Some things girls didn’t do. Some things were sacred to men.

But he’d never seen anything like Kat nabbing a pop fly and the young men rallying around her.

Saturday passed in a blur with Josie’s family. The warmth was a welcome change from the formal atmosphere with his family. While he might not be sure about the ball playing, he enjoyed the other competition in the family. He and Mark locked wits over a game of chess that left Art scrambling for the advantage.

Sunday lunch with his family was another story. During the formal meal, the clink of silver on china served as the musical backdrop to an awkward silence. Art tried to enjoy his beef Wellington but couldn’t as he noticed Josie tense. When Grandfather invited him to his study, Art knew it wasn’t for a casual conversation, but couldn’t imagine why Grandfather would summon him since he’d ignored them both during the meal.

“Would you like a drink?” Grandfather approached a small cabinet behind his desk and arched an eyebrow at Art.

“No, sir.”

“Still a teetotaler I see.”

“Just chose not to drink.”

“All right.” Grandfather settled in his leather chair behind his massive desk. “So, boy, how’s business in Cincinnati?”

Art sipped his beverage and sighed. So it began. “Fine. My employer’s trying to anticipate what will happen if we enter the war.”

“Tell him not to waste his time. We won’t enter. If we did, we’d never recover. Your mother tells me you’re taking in one of the British cousins.”

“We’ve been asked to.”

“Glad to hear it. Wonder what would make the parents consider you rather than some of the more established relations.”

“Mom said you suggested it.”

A twinkle filled his grandfather’s eyes. “So I did. Delighted you’ve decided to accept her.”

“We’re happy to help. Actually, excited about it.”

“Harrumph. Don’t know that there’s anything to be excited about, since I doubt they can pay anything.”

“They don’t need to.”

“Tell me that after you’ve provided food and clothing for a child.” Grandfather shook his head, then took out his cigar box. He selected a cigar and shoved it between his teeth without lighting it. “Mark my words: you’ll need help.”

“What would you have us do? Leave her in danger when they’ve asked for our help?”

“No, but watch your pennies. I’m willing to help some, but your grandmother and I won’t underwrite her entire stay. In that case, we might as well keep her here.”

“That won’t be necessary, sir.”

“Keep it in mind.”

“Yes, sir.”

The conversation wandered from there. Grandfather probed him about the company and mood of Cincinnati. By the time they left, Art’s mind had wearied of the grilling, and he was relieved to leave the family estate behind and take the highway toward Cincinnati.