Ten

The noise ricocheted off the ceiling as the men entered Rosie’s, the neighborhood establishment. Stan swaggered as if he’d returned home from a long absence. Art grimaced. As far as he knew, that’s how Stan felt. Art shouldn’t be here. Calling it an establishment did not hide its true nature. While he might drink a Coke, everyone else ordered beers. Why had he allowed Stan to talk him into venturing out with the other guys again? This simply wasn’t something he enjoyed.

And if Josie found out. . .

The thought lingered. What would she think? He didn’t know, but he assumed she wouldn’t be pleased.

He rubbed the back of his neck, felt the prickly hairs. Time to get a haircut. Hadn’t he seen a barber down the street? He could still leave and get the haircut taken care of rather than stay with the guys. As he prepared to push off the barstool, the bartender set a mug in front of him. Foam sloshed over the sides. Who would have ordered him a beer?

“Bottoms up.” Stan leered at him over the top of a matching mug.

Art scowled. His father had preached the lesson loud and clear. Only fools who couldn’t control themselves visited those places. Drinking should be done within the walls of a man’s home. Art shook the image from his head.

“Come on, time to loosen up. You’re too uptight, even if you are a bean counter.”

“Aw, leave him alone, Stan.” George Brothers peered behind him, scanning the room.

“Find what you’re looking for?” Stan’s disgust was clear. “You know she ain’t interested in you.”

“Sure she is. She just needs to know me.”

Unease set up camp in Art’s core. He didn’t know who they were talking about, and he didn’t want to. He needed to leave. Now. These two fancied themselves a regular Abbott and Costello. First problem? They missed the speedy humor of skits like “Who’s on First.” Second problem? He couldn’t believe he was listening to their vulgar comments.

Stan sat at one side of him, George on the other. Art ran his hands along the top of the long bar. It wasn’t smooth as he’d thought. Instead, the wood was dented and battered. His thoughts raced as he looked for a way out.

Okay. So this wouldn’t be easy. He should have never agreed to join them a couple weeks ago. When had it become easier and easier to walk in?

He glanced at his watch. Six thirty. Josie wouldn’t be happy. She’d noticed his other absences. While she hadn’t said anything, he knew that would change. Hopefully, this was one of the days she’d spent time at the library shadowing Adelaide. She might not even notice he was late. “I’ve got to leave.” He threw some change on the bar and stood. “See you next week.”

Traffic blared around him as Art double-timed it home. He barely noticed when he almost stepped into the path of a cab. His thoughts remained fogged. He needed to have his head examined. Choosing to spend more time with those guys rather than rush home to his bride. He knew better than to let Grandfather’s disapproval settle into his spirit.

Friday night. They had the weekend to spend together. Thankfully, tonight was free.

❧

Josie stared at Annabelle Rogers. Where was Art? She’d reminded him this morning the social worker would stop by for a last home visit before leaving to meet the children on the East Coast. He had to be here. It was the remaining step in satisfying Annabelle that Cassandra would thrive with them.

She picked at a fingernail. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like something to drink?”

“No. This should be a quick visit.” Annabelle cast a pointed look at her watch.

“He really should arrive any time.” Josie hoped her words were true. Lately, Art hadn’t rushed home. She didn’t know what he did and wanted to avoid being the wife who nagged her husband about his whereabouts every day. Either she trusted him or she didn’t. As long as she could, she’d choose trust. Believe the best about him. They’d exchanged promises, and she intended to keep hers.

She tried to make small talk, but the longer they waited, the more difficult the task. Annabelle didn’t help things, either.

“I really must leave.”

Josie grimaced. “I’m sorry you made the trip for nothing.”

“Do you understand that we’re out of time?” Her face pinched. “I’m not sure what to tell her parents. I can’t vouch for your husband or his character.”

“He’s definitely a character.” Josie smiled but realized Annabelle was too upset to take her words lightly. She cleared her throat. “He’s wanted to host Cassandra from the moment we got the telegram.”

“Then he should have been here to make sure we completed the paperwork.” Annabelle stood and smoothed her skirt. “I may come by Monday night if he will be here.”

“He will if I have to go get him myself.” Josie followed her to the door. “Again, I’m sorry.”

Annabelle strode past her and hurried down the steps. Josie eased the door shut. Everything in her wanted to slam it, but why worry Doris or risk the door? Art would be home soon, and then they’d figure out what was going on.

She paced the living room as she waited, gnawing on a nail. This wasn’t like Art. Her heel caught the edge of the rug, and she sprawled against the couch. Her temper flared at the thought of the position he’d placed her in. He’d promised to be home. He’d understood he was required for the home visit. Maybe he’d changed his mind about Cassandra. Argh. She needed to talk to him. Understand what he was thinking. Trying to figure it out made her stomach clench.

Art sneaked through the door, as if he thought he could avoid her or she wouldn’t notice his late arrival. He froze when he saw her sitting on the couch with her arms crossed. She bit her tongue to keep from saying something she’d regret.

A sheepish look filled his face. “Hi.”

She nodded.

“I take it you missed me?” He tried to charm her with his Clark Gable smile.

She refused to soften. At least until he knew what he’d missed. “You’re late.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you forget the appointment this evening?”

The color drained from his face. “The social worker?”

“Yes. She waited quite awhile but had to leave half an hour ago. Especially since I couldn’t give her any indication of when you’d arrive.”

He sank to the sofa next to her, then raked his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Josie.”

“We may not get Cassandra now.” How that thought pained her.

“She’s not ours.”

“But we’re supposed to provide a safe haven for her. We can’t do that until this home study is complete. And that won’t happen unless Annabelle meets you.” She sniffed the air. It was smoky but not the rustic aroma of wood smoke. “What did you bring home with you? Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t meet. You smell like a bar.”

He wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Why? Why would you start going to bars now?”

“I don’t.”

She tried to scorch him with her stare.

“Okay, I have a couple times. But I’m not drinking, Josie. I promise.”

Could she believe him? She had never imagined that was an option with him. And why now? Had she done something to push him away? She popped off the couch as her thoughts ran wild.

“Josie, calm down. You’re acting crazy.”

“I’m acting crazy? I’m only trying to make sure we can help your cousin. That’s what you wanted. Did something change and you forgot to mention it?” Josie took a deep breath. If her voice got any louder, Doris and the grocer would hear every word.

Art hesitated. Had he changed his mind while she’d fallen in love with the idea of helping the girl?

“My job is getting intense. And you’ll be working at the library this summer.”

“You said it was okay.”

“Sure, I did. It’s clear you need an excuse to get out of the apartment and meet people.” Art shrugged. “It seemed like a good way to help that happen. It’s a lot with taking in a girl we don’t know.”

Josie gritted her teeth. “It will be fine. And this is a little late to change course. They leave in a couple weeks.”

“We shouldn’t force this. That’s all I’m saying.” Art crossed his arms and leaned against the couch. “Maybe I got too excited. Knight in shining armor and all that.”

“How’s that wrong? We all need a knight to save us from time to time.”

“Maybe I’m not knight material.” Art looked at his hands, and his voice cracked.

“Why say that?” Josie wrinkled her brow. “You’re my knight.”

“No. You keep looking at me like I’ll fail.”

If his eyes weren’t dull with pain, Josie would have argued with him. But the longer she looked at him, the more she understood he really believed that. Somewhere, she had gone wrong in the months since they’d married. How could she restore him to his steed?

“Is that why you’ve stopped coming home after work?”

He hunched over, elbows on knees. The silence grew until Josie didn’t know how to break it.

“It’s been a hard week. Pressure from work. Trying to ignore Grandfather’s voice in my head telling me that I have to work harder than the others and make my way in the world in a way that honors our family name. I honestly forgot, Josie. I didn’t do it on purpose.” He searched the room as if looking for more words. “I’m sorry, but that’s all I can say.”

“I’m sorry.” Josie searched his eyes, then took a breath. “I hated not knowing where you were or what to do. If you don’t want to take Cassandra in, I’ll accept your judgment.” Somehow she would make her heart agree.

“No, I’ll call Miss Rogers and apologize. This is the right thing to do.”

Josie tried to stretch her lips into a smile. Their conversation hadn’t addressed the bars, but it was enough for now. At least he hadn’t been drinking. Though how long could that last? And with an extra body to clothe and feed, there wouldn’t be much left over for vices like that.

Art stood and pulled her toward him. She relaxed into him. They would make it through this and much more. The miscommunication would be fixed, and then Cassandra would be on her way.