BOSTON MASSACHUSETTS
SPRING 1872
Rose Brennan emerged from her exile. “Etta, I’ll read to the children and put them to bed. You’ve done enough today.”
Etta nursed a weak, frail Katie back to health with love and food, “Here, honey. I made chicken soup with biscuits. This will help you grow stronger.”
“Thank you. You are so good to me.”
The older woman shook her head, “Such a young girl. Crying shame, what he done to you. An innocent. My people take care of their own. Whites send you away.”
Katie’s physical strength returned over the weeks. Her ghost white skin turned a healthy pink and Etta’s cooking brought weight back to her body. Her sadness lingered.
Rose visited each day. “Forgive me for being a burden. Etta is doing all the work. I’m sorry for not helping.”
“Katie, please, rest. Etta is fine. I enjoy time with the children. I’ve missed them. What can I do for you? You’re so melancholy.”
Tears flowed, “I’m so empty.”
“I can only imagine. You’ve lost Sean and your babies.”
“I can’t be with Sean. I’m a disgrace. My babies, I carried them for months, loved them, tried to protect them. And now, one’s dead, and I can’t see my boy.”
“Let me arrange for a carriage and a visit with the baby. Only you can decide about Sean.”
Katie cried into her hands and nodded.
Moira’s guilt and shame lifted after absolution from Father Mark. Motherhood restored her confidence. She welcomed Katie’s visit. “Hold your son. We’ve been waiting.”
Weak from the ride, Katie sat in the rocker. Her face opened with joy. “I pictured this for so long. Pink cheeks, heart-shaped lips.” Pressing her nose to his neck, “I imagined the scent of new life.”
“You gave us a wonderful gift. We can never repay you. Neil brings so much love into our world.”
“It’s you and Paddy who gave me the gift. My son will grow up with a loving family and home. You saved him from a life on Beacon Street, unloved.”
Rose stood nearby. Tears pooled in her eyes. “Katie, I’m sorry I haven’t been a good mother. I promise to be in their lives now. No child in my home will be unloved.”
Weeks turned to months. The Brennan home changed with Rose as the mistress and mother. She and Etta worked together. The house filled with sounds of laughter and child’s play. “Etta, have you noticed? Mr. Brennan spends more time locked in his library now that the children are playing in the house and garden.”
“And he been drinkin’ more, too. I fill his empty crystal bottle with whiskey every night.”
Katie’s body healed with time. It was a day in late March when she walked to Moira’s house. The two bonded closer by their love for Neil, “You are a loving mother, Moira. Much like my own mam.”
“I hold him and think how much I love him. And then I remember how much we’ve suffered.”
Katie responded, “Aye, I have the same thoughts. I’m living in the house with the monster who brought so much pain to our lives. And with a short walk, I hold his son who’s captured our hearts.”
Moira never disclosed her sin to Katie. “You’re brave, cousin. I never…I couldn’t have done the same. And here, he’s brought us so much love and happiness.”
Katie smiled at Neil.
“Will you be happy, ever, Katie? I want that for you.”
Moira didn’t wait for an answer. She put Neil in his cradle and prepared tea.
“Do you hear of Sean? I confess, he’s on my mind these days.”
“I don’t, except Paddy says he’s working long days to finish the school. The first class is early summer. June, I think.” Moira waited. “I could deliver a message through Paddy.”
“No, no. Thank you.” Katie breathed in. “Look what I’ve lost. A daughter, a son. A man who loved me. I came here a naïve girl, full of spirit. I’m leaving, a broken woman. Moira, my only hope is the memories fade when I’m home.”
The two sat together, holding hands. Moira reminded, “Out of the pain, we have a child. We’ll always share him.”
“Aye. What will you tell him about his birth?”
“Paddy and I talked about this. When Neil is old enough to ask, we’ll tell him the story of his birthday. He’ll learn about the three ladies who greeted him with gifts. His Aunt Rose brought him angel wings and set him free. I was there to breathe his first breaths with him. And Aunt Katie O’Neil, who shared her green eyes and black hair and most of all, the gift of life itself.”
“It is a wonderful birth story. Moira, I’m at peace. This was meant to be.”
Katie walked home at dusk. The late March winds sent a chill through her. She didn’t wear a hood, but allowed the cold to wash over her face and hair. I wonder if Sean thinks of me. No, no. I wonder what Sean thinks of me.
Word from home prompted the decision to leave. “I’ve received a letter. Mam’s failed since da died. She can’t be alone. It’s time, Rose, for me to go home.”
The carriage was due before dawn. Moira woke Neil and prepared him for the farewell visit on Beacon Street. Paddy arrived home in time to join them. “You’ve had a long night. Another mission of mercy?”
“Aye, you could say that. I’m a tired man today.”
Rose and Etta waited with Katie in the downstairs kitchen. “Where’s William?”
“In a mood. Keepin’ busy cleaning pots.”
Rose dressed in a deep green taffeta jacket with braided white silk trim and matching skirt. Her hair, not in its usual long braid, but a stylish French twist. Moira, Paddy and Neil arrived. Moira commented, “You look lovely today, Mrs. Brennan.”
“Thank you. This is an important day.” She glanced toward Katie, “One of endings and new beginnings.”
Moira turned to her cousin, “You don’t have to go. You can live with us.”
“Thank you. Mam is waiting. I have to go to her.”
Katie held three-month-old Neil. She stared into his green eyes. Her tears fell on his soft skin. Moira whispered, “Kiss your boy. We love you so much. I promise he will make you proud.”
An exhausted Paddy swallowed the lump in his throat. His voice cracked, “You are always welcome. You are part of our family.” He started to add, “And Katie, no harm will come to you…” Moira broke in.
“Enough, Paddy.”
William peeked from the doorway, eyes shiny with tears. Katie smiled back at him. Rose wrapped an arm around Katie’s waist, pulling her close. “Be safe, my love. I will always be here for you. I’m ‘Aunt Rose’ to Neil. We are all family.”
“I pray no harm will come to you for helping me.” “No need for prayers, dear. Trust I will be well.”
Katie’s head throbbed and chest ached as she pressed the baby to her breast. In halting sobs, she assured her son, “Always remember I carry you in my heart.” And to her American family, “God bless you. It’s His will I return to Galway. My beloved home.”
Etta stood in the darkest corner of the kitchen lost in thoughts of her own. He ain’t no man. He’s a pig. No man lays on Etta Jones unless she says so. You come up against the wrong woman last night, Mr. Brennan. The wrong woman.
Rose moved toward Etta. Her smooth white skin and sloped nose a stark contrast to Etta’s round black eyes and flat nose. She took her thick, brown hand. “It’s up to us to run this house and care for the children.”
“Yes, Missus. It’s you and me now. C’mon, Miss Katie, I’ll help you with your bag.”
The driver stowed the neatly packed valise. Dressed in a new cloak and linen and cotton dress, she boarded the carriage. Another passenger greeted her. “Katie, good day. Will you allow me to ride with you?”
“Sean.”
“It’s so good to see your face. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. You’ve sacrificed so much.”
“Sean, I’ve missed you. My life is full of turmoil and grief. I carry so much shame. I can’t expect you to forgive me.”
He moved to her. “The shame is not yours. If I had known, you never would have carried this alone.”
The carriage moved along the streets toward the harbor. “Katie, you’re a courageous woman. I love you more knowing you are so strong. You deserve better than banishment to Ireland.”
“It’s my choice. Mam is failing. My sister in England has two young ones and can’t help.”
“Then let me help. How will you survive?”
“Rose saw to it. She’s been very generous. I’ll be fine for a while.” “And then?”
“Oh, Sean, I’m not sure these wounds will ever heal.”
“I’ve been wounded, too. It takes time. If it helps, you have me, loving you and waiting.”
Katie reached for his hand, “Is this love, what we have?”
“Yes. I closed my heart to love many years ago. It’s only to you I’ve opened it again. I won’t lose you.”
“I’m too damaged. I want to be worthy of your love.”
Tears welled in his eyes. He held her chin in his hand, “Then I’ll let you go because I love you. Take time to mend. Lay on the fresh green grass and feel the healing warmth of the Galway sun.” He offered a book, “It’s a collection of my favorite poems. Think of me when you read them.”
She reached and held him for a long embrace. “I do love you. I just can’t be here right now.”
He kissed her cheek. “When you gaze at the moon over Galway Bay I’ll be looking at the same moon here in Boston. And remember, I’m waiting for you to come back to me.”
Katie boarded the ship to Liverpool. The mate greeted her, “Good day, ma’am,” and directed her to the first-class deck. She found her cabin, closed the door and wept for the Irish waif who ventured to America four years before.
Moira and Paddy walked home with Neil in his pram. “Paddy, you’re squeezing my hand too tight.”
“Sorry, my luv. Lost in thoughts about my night.”
They placed their son in his cradle, making the sign of the cross, thanking God for this gift. Moira touched the white cap with the Irish cross hanging over the cradle.
Rose crept into Virginia’s room just before sunrise. She picked up the sleeping four-year-old. Inhaling her sweet scent, she rocked and sang the lullaby she wrote for her other children.
Your mother is here, now. I hold you tonight, my child, so blessed. With mother’s arms around you, I pray this night you will rest.
William’s screams pierced the peaceful silence. The windows rattled throughout the house. “Miss Brennan, Miss Brennan, come quick.”
Rose sat for a few more minutes singing Virginia back to sleep.
You are surrounded by my love, as angels watch you from above.
She walked out of the nursery and down the stairs toward the screams. She held her head erect and smoothed her green taffeta skirt.
The cries came from the library where Etta cradled a distraught William. He wailed, “Miss Brennan, Lord save us.” William held one hand over his mouth. His running nose and tears made wet tracks on his black face. He extended his other hand, pointing to the floor. An ashen Charles Brennan, dressed in his custom tailored black suit, lay dead, sprawled on a rare Persian carpet. A Waterford Crystal Lismore glass, half full of fine scotch whiskey, at his blue finger tips.
William cried, “Miss Brennan, I came for his whiskey bottle. I wash it every morning.”
Rose looked at him and then Etta, “Call for a doctor to pronounce him dead.” And to William, “Go now, have a cup of tea, calm yourself.”
William wiped his face with his apron, “Yes, ma’am.”
Rose lifted her skirt and stepped over her husband. She walked toward the windows, “Let’s let sunshine and fresh air in this house.”