“Are you sure you want to do this?” Seated on his bed, Peter Abrams massaged his legs and blinked at his daughter, who perched at the end of the bed near his feet.
“Of course, I’m sure,” Alice assured him. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I’m sure.”
“It seems like such a drastic thing to do,” Peter complained. “Can’t you come up with some other way to support yourself without going so far away?”
“It’s not just about supporting myself,” Alice explained. “I need to get out of here. I need to make my own way in the world.”
“Will you be making your own way in the world by marrying a man you don’t know?” her father pressed her.
“At least I’ll be making this move on my own initiative,” Alice replied. “At least I’ll be doing something other than just hanging around Greensborough, watching the weeks go by.”
“Is that what you’re doing here?” her father muttered.
Alice laid her hand on his lower leg by her side. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I didn’t mean to insult you by suggesting that my life here with you wasn’t good and happy, because it is. I just mean that I want to do something different with my life. I don’t know how to explain it any other way.”
“You couldn’t have picked a place in this country farther away from me than Bend, Oregon,” Peter Abrams nagged her. “You’ll be all the way on the opposite side of the country. It really makes me think you’re trying to send me a message of some kind.”
“No, I’m not,” Alice insisted. “As a matter of fact, Mrs. Bronwick chose Mr. Emerson for me. I didn’t have anything to do with the choice of going to Bend, Oregon.”
“But do you really have to leave?” Mr. Abrams whimpered. “I just don’t want you to leave. I’ve lived with you all your life. I can’t imagine living without you.”
Alice gave his leg a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Dad. I can’t imagine living without you, either. But something has to change.”
Alice noticed her father fighting back tears. “Why does it have to change?”
She forced herself to look away. “I didn’t think everyone would be so upset by my decision. I thought you would be relieved that I found a way to unburden you from having to support me when you really can’t afford it.”
Peter perked up his ears at her comments. “Who else is upset about it? Mrs. McDowell didn’t agree with your decision, but I wouldn’t call her upset. It’s just her nature to argue about everything everyone does. You know her.”
“No, not her,” Alice corrected him. “I meant Jesse.”
“Oh, I see,” Peter nodded.
“He became so mad when I told him,” Alice related. “that he walked away from me. Now, he won’t talk to me at all. He basically said have a nice trip and walked away. I was shocked.”
“I’m not surprised,” Peter remarked.
Alice’s eyes flew open in surprise. “Why not?”
“Why not?” Peter repeated. “Why, because he loves you so much, of course!”
“Dad!” Alice exclaimed. “He does not love me! You’re making that up!”
“I am not!” her father declared. “He’s loved you ever since you first met. You know that!”
“He does not!” Alice insisted. “He thinks of me as something like a sister. He might love me in that way, but nothing more.”
“You believe whatever you want about it,” Mr. Abrams maintained. “Okay, so he thinks of you as something like a sister. I’ll grant you that. But he still loves you. He loves you at least as much as I do. Maybe even more. Of course he would be upset!”
Alice flushed and fiddled with a loose string on the coverlet of her father’s bed. “You’re exaggerating a little bit, don’t you think, Dad?”
“No, I’m not exaggerating,” he told her. “It was pretty cruel of you to drop a bomb like that on all of us without even telling us your plans. But it was especially cruel to Jesse. You should have broken the news to him more gently than that.”
“But I didn’t know he cared so much about it,” she persisted. “If I had known, I would have done it differently. It’s the same with you. I thought you’d be happy about my decision. I didn’t think you would be upset about it.”
His voice cracked. “How could I be happy about losing my only child? You’re all I have in the world.”
“Don’t say that, Dad,” Alice returned. “because I have to go. I’ve given my word.”
“I will say it,” Peter maintained. “And don’t fall back on that ‘giving your word’ argument. If you wrote back to this Emerson character and told him that you hadn’t consulted your father before you gave your consent to this arrangement, and that your father disapproved, and wanted you to stay at home, I’m sure he would understand and let you out of it.”
“Maybe he would,” Alice conceded. “Maybe he wouldn’t.”
“You want to go,” Mr. Abrams accused her. “Admit it.”
“Okay,” she acknowledged. “I admit it. I told you before I wanted to go. I’m not any happier about leaving you than you are about me leaving, but I still think it will be the best thing for everyone concerned. I don’t want to slave away as a seamstress for Mrs. Tindal all my life, earning barely enough to pay the rent. I want more than that, and Mr. Emerson is offering me the chance to have it.”
“What about Jesse?” Mr. Abrams challenged her. “Do you think this will be the best thing for him?”
She stared at him, dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”
“Your leaving,” he elaborated. “You said it would be the best thing for everyone concerned. Will it be the best thing for him, too?”
Alice blushed. “I don’t know. I never thought about it.”
“Then you can’t say it’s the best thing, can you?” he argued. “You haven’t thought this through as thoroughly as you think you have.”
“I don’t see why I should have to consider what’s best for Jesse McDowell,” Alice bristled.
“You should consider him because he’s part of this,” her father informed her. “He’s affected by your decision, and you shouldn’t go around hurting people unnecessarily.”
“I didn’t hurt him,” Alice declared. “Not intentionally, anyway.”
“I think you need to reconsider your whole decision,” her father instructed her. “There’s more to this than you realize, and you don’t want to make a life-altering decision like this without thinking it over carefully first.”
“You just don’t want me to go, that’s all,” Alice grumbled. “You’d say anything to keep me from going.”
“I wouldn’t mind you going, if I thought you weren’t making a rash decision based on faulty thinking,” he argued. “Think it over again. That’s all I ask. You might come to a different conclusion if you did.”
Alice set her jaw and scowled. “No, I won’t reconsider. I’m going. I’ve made up my mind and that’s final.”
Peter Abrams shook his head and rubbed his knee again. “You’re just like your mother. You have her same stubborn determination, and you look just exactly like her when you pinch your mouth like that. That’s when I know there’s no budging you from your position.”
Alice laid her hand on his, temporarily mollified. “Do you miss Mom very much?”
Her father shook his head. “Not with you around, I don’t. You have her honey-blonde hair, her brown eyes, and her high, square forehead. When you talk, your mouth sort of rolls around the way hers did, and your voice sort of skips and falls over itself the same way hers did. Sometimes, when I’m talking to you, I have to check myself and remind myself who I’m talking to. Talking to you is the same as talking to her. A man could almost think you were the same person.”
Alice smile affectionately at the characterization. “You need someone like Mom to take care of you, now that you’re sick. I could almost be convinced to stay here, just to take care of you. I don’t like leaving you alone when you’re not able to take care of yourself. That would convince Mr. Emerson more than your disapproval.”
Peter Abrams wagged his forefinger at her. “No, that wouldn’t do. You’re right. You’re too young to spend your life taking care of me. You shouldn’t squander the flower of your youth looking after a wasted old war-monger like me. You should get out of here and find yourself some adventure and excitement.”
“Dad!” Alice scolded. “That’s exactly the opposite of what you just said two minutes ago! Make up your mind!”
“You’re right,” he sighed, leaning back against his pillow. “You don’t belong here in Greensborough. Forget about everyone except yourself. Forget about me and Mrs. McDowell and Jesse and everyone who wants to keep you here for their own selfish reasons and go! Just go! Fly free like a skylark!”
“Dad!” Alice barked. “Now I believe you want to get rid of me!”
“You’re right that I can’t support both of us on my pension,” he continued. “The only solution is for us to separate. If you can marry a rich storekeeper out in Bend, Oregon, then more power to you! You have my blessing. Go!”
“Now, stop it!” Alice chided. “You’re swinging from one extreme to the other and you’re making no sense at all! Now stop talking about it before you get yourself into more trouble than you already are!”
Alice stood up from the end of the bed and flitted around the room. She trimmed the wick of the oil lamp on the table by her father’s bed, getting ready for the two of them to retire for the night. Her father observed her. He listened to the rustle of her skirts as she brushed past the table to her own bed and back again. “Honestly, Alice,” he began. “Don’t you think you should try to make Jesse feel better about this whole thing? He must be pretty upset. He didn’t say a single word during supper.”
“I know,” she admitted. “But I already tried to make up with him more than once. I don’t think he wants to have anything more to do with me. He wants me to leave and get out of his life as quickly as possible.”
“I don’t think that’s the case at all,” Mr. Abrams argued. “I think he’s just hurt by the way you broke the news to him. He must have been taken by surprise.”
“I don’t see why I should have to go out of my way to make him feel better,” Alice complained. “He’s not my brother, and he’s not my sweetheart. He’s not family at all. He’s our landlady’s son, that’s all.”
“That’s the way you see it,” he reminded her. “Maybe in your mind he isn’t your sweetheart, but maybe in his mind, he is. Maybe he isn’t your brother, but he’s the closest thing to one you’ll ever have, and you’re the closest thing to a sister he’ll ever have. How do you think he’d feel if he was your brother, and you told him you were leaving town to marry a stranger halfway around the world with the same casual flip you’d give to telling him you were going down to the corner for a bottle of milk? He’d be pretty mad, and you’d be mad, too, if he did something like that to you. Just think about it.”
“Okay, I’ll think about it,” Alice consented. “But I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it,” her father conceded. “But he’s a person with feelings just like yours, and he deserves better than this.”
“Since when did you care so much about him?” Alice accused.
“Since when did you not care so much about him?” her father shot back. “You two have been inseparable since the first day you met. When we moved into this house, you and Jesse ran off and played together, and Mrs. McDowell and I never saw hide nor hair of either of you ever after, except at mealtimes. Ever since you began working for Mrs. Tindal and Jesse started his apprenticeship, you two have walked home together from work almost every evening. Many’s the night you came in to supper together, laughing and chatting. It wasn’t just Mrs. McDowell and I who noticed it. All the other boarders remarked on the connection between you two, as well. And now, all of a sudden, you want to turn your back on Jesse and pretend he’s nothing to you. It doesn’t make sense.”
Alice stopped dead in the middle of the room and gaped at her father. “What are you talking about, Dad?”
“You know it’s true,” he insisted. “He’s your oldest friend—maybe even your only friend. So you don’t want to have to think about how he will get along without you after you leave. Have you thought about how you will get along without him after you leave?”
“What do you mean?” She choked on the words that stuck in her dry throat.
“You don’t honestly think you’ll be able to talk and laugh and walk with Mr. Emerson, the storekeeper, the same way you do to Jesse McDowell, do you?” Mr. Abrams argued. “Don’t trick yourself into thinking that you will. A connection like the one you have with Jesse only comes along once in a lifetime. Some women are lucky enough to have it with another woman, and they can stay friends for life. Others are lucky enough to have it with their spouses. But if you have it with Jesse and you marry another man, you’ll never have it again as long as you live. Mark my words.”
“What are you suggesting, Dad?” Alice demanded. “You’re not suggesting I marry Jesse, are you? That would be absurd!”
“Why would it be absurd?” her father asked.
“Because….” She floundered for an answer. “Because he’s as poor as I am. We could never support ourselves. He’s nothing but a tailor’s apprentice! Would you have me throw my life away as a tailor’s wife? We’d starve in the streets!”
“He won’t be an apprentice forever,” Mr. Abrams maintained. “He’ll be a journeyman soon, and then he’ll be able to go into business for himself or hire himself out to someone else at a decent wage.”
“You can’t be serious!” Alice cried. “Jesse McDowell is just about the last person on God’s green earth I would marry!”
“Why?” he wanted to know.
“Because I don’t love him!” Alice shouted back.
Her father pounced. “And you do love Mr. Emerson, do you?”
“Of course not!” she huffed. “That’s different!”
Peter jabbed his finger at her again. “You bet it’s different! The only thing Mr. Emerson has going for him is a successful business. With Jesse, you know you can spend a lot of time together without getting tired of each other’s company. You know you have lots to talk about without boring each other or getting on each other’s nerves. And I’m here to tell you, girlie, that a marriage isn’t based on much else besides that. If you have those things, you don’t need anything else. And if you don't have those things, then it doesn’t matter how much money or success the person has. You’ll still be miserable.”
Alice burst from her spot in the middle of the room and spun away from her father. “I’m not listening to any more of this crazy talk! I’m not marrying Jesse McDowell, and you can put your money on that! I’m marrying Arthur Emerson of Bend, Oregon. At the end of the month, I’m catching a train West, and when I get there, I’m marrying him! So there!”
“Oh, come on, Alice,” Peter reproached. “Don’t shut me down like that! You know it’s the truth. Admit it!”
“I’m not talking about this any more!” Alice bellowed, waving her arm at him as if she would have liked to swat him away like a bothersome insect. “From now on, keep your comments about my decision and my marriage to Mr. Emerson to yourself. You’re not making any sense, and I don’t want to hear anymore about it.”
“Alice…” Mr. Abrams began.
“No!” she yelled. “Don’t talk to me any more! I’m going, and that’s the end of it.”
“Come on, darling,” Peter Abrams pleaded. “Come sit down here and let’s be reasonable.”
“I don’t want to talk about it any more!” she screeched. “If you can’t stop talking about it, then don’t talk to me at all!” She threw herself onto her own bed, leaned her back against the wall, and crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’ve never seen you like this before,” he marveled. “At least come over here and give me a kiss so I know you still love me.”
“No, I won’t,” she pouted. “You can cling to your loving thoughts about Jesse to comfort yourself tonight. I’m through with you!”