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“PUT YOUR HAND UNDER the faucet.”
Faith didn’t feel any pain, but there was a small scrape on the palm of her hand that her aunt insisted needed a wash, but really, the soap made her raw skin sting more than the injury did.
“Sit, Thomas. I’ll have this out right now before anything else happens.”
Aunt Sarah was all fuss and bother now, her fury at Thomas gone.
Or so it seemed.
“Let’s have some of this salve on it, then wrap it tight. Your grandfather might want a look at it, so you will want to stop by their home before you go back to yours. Faith, are you listening?”
Thomas was resting his head in his hands at the kitchen table, and Faith couldn’t help wondering why he would try to hurt Nico, even if he didn’t like him. He seemed so upset now, either by his own actions or by the result of them.
“Faith?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Aunt Sarah.”
She rubbed at her own forehead with the back of her unharmed hand, feeling the stickiness of sweat and the grit of dirt that must have kicked up when she and Nico had fallen.
“I’m fine, really. I just . . . I’m worried about Thomas.”
Her cousin must have heard her, because he lifted his head and showed a rare streak of tears on his bright red cheeks.
“I would never hurt you, Faith, you must know that. If I had thought for a second that you would get caught up in that . . .”
Faith’s aunt began to step forward, but Uncle Sam caught her eye as he stood on the opposite side of the table from where Thomas sat, and something passed between the two of them that made Aunt Sarah hold her tongue.
Instead, she folded her arms over her chest and lifted her chin, watching her only child carefully.
“I know, Thomas. I know.”
No one tried to stop Faith as she rushed to her cousin, taking his hand as he pulled her close. Faith rested her free hand on his shoulder, wondering what in the world could have possessed him to try to hurt another man, then cry like a child right after.
Uncle Sam cleared his throat and pulled out a chair, beckoning to her aunt, who seemed very solemn now, her focus on Faith’s small injury replaced by what seemed like a greater concern.
“We’ve had something to talk to you about for a long time, Thomas, and we feel as if Faith should be a part of this as well, because the two of you are so close.”
Her uncle stopped, blinking a few times as he watched Aunt Sarah, who was staring into her lap.
What was going on?
A wave of fear rolled through Faith, and she wondered if this would be another revelation that would end in pain.
She pushed her worry away, turning her thoughts to her parents instead of her own feelings.
Please help them, however you will. And help those who live in this house, because I don’t know what to expect now and only you can guide us through it.
Thomas faced his parents, turning to sit back in his chair as Faith sat in the one to his right, their hands still together.
“The two of you are such good friends, and we’ve always been pleased to see it, as have your own parents, Faith. We know you are like brother and sister, and that isn’t something we would want to change.”
Aunt Sarah lifted her gaze to stare someplace behind them, as if she was avoiding looking at either Faith or Thomas.
Maybe she didn’t want to talk about whatever Uncle Sam was heading towards, although he had said they both wanted to speak of it.
To both of them.
“But you have to allow others into your lives, and be accepting when that happens to each of you. I understand the desire to be protective, believe me, but there are ways to be careful and proper without resorting to what I just saw today.”
Faith frowned. Aunt Sarah was rigid, and Faith wanted to ask Uncle Sam if this might not be a good time to pressure her to talk about something that clearly was upsetting her before they had even said a word about it.
“Sam,” her aunt said, her voice so quiet that Faith almost didn’t hear her.
Without another word, Uncle Sam turned on his heel and stood facing the wall behind him, tucking his hands in his pockets in that familiar gesture his son had inherited.
“Your father had a younger brother,” Aunt Sarah began in that same quiet voice, so that Faith had to keep her breaths shallow and quiet just to hear her.
Thomas leaned forward a little, as if he was having difficulty hearing his mother as well.
“His name was Thomas.”
When her aunt continued, there were tears in her eyes and Faith had to fight the urge to drop her cousin’s hand and go to her.
Uncle Sam tilted his head to one side, and then shifted to face them again.
“Tommy.”
Her aunt’s shoulders rose and froze momentarily, then after she shook her head once, they dropped again, and she began to speak in a rush, if perhaps she was afraid of the words.
In just a few moments, Faith understood why.
“He fell from the Cliff Walk behind our house. I didn’t know your father then, but it was how we met. I was with Tommy when he fell, but I was too afraid to tell anyone, even though it was an accident. It came to light, of course, and there is more to the story that doesn’t need to be told right now, except that we met under these terrible circumstances, and we shared so much guilt for what happened to Tommy.”
“I think we still do, but with God’s help, we are able to cope with it, and find solace in helping others as much as we can.”
Faith remembered the look on her Aunt Sarah’s face all those years ago when they were at the shelter, and Thomas, so young and yet so serious, had told them his name.
Surely God had led her cousin to the family he belonged to after losing his father, a family who were mourning another Thomas and longed for a child of their own.
She closed her eyes, suddenly overwhelmed with the emotional weight of what she was hearing. All she wanted was to go to her mother and ask her to tell her what she knew of it, to reassure her that all was well, and that the calm life she had always known would return to her soon.
But that wasn’t doing justice to her aunt and uncle’s story.
To Thomas.
Or Tommy, who she had never and would never meet in this life.
“This is something you needed to know, Thomas, because it is so much a part of who we are, your mother and I, both as individuals and together. We weren’t sure when to share this with you, but after your behavior today, surely this is the time.”
Uncle Sam finished speaking, and the room grew quiet. Thomas tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling for a moment, but before he could respond, Aunt Sarah spoke up, wiping the dampness from her cheeks as she sat a little straighter.
“You love each other, and that is a blessing. But you have to live your own lives as well. Looking out for each other can go too far, and Thomas, if you’ll listen to reason, you’ll see that if Faith wishes to spend time with a man, chaperoned and approved by her parents, she will be safe.”
She stood up and leaned over the table, her small stature less an indicator of her strength of will than the firmness of her words.
“You won’t lose her, Thomas. Your lives will change and make room for others, and your time together will accommodate that. But if you push Faith away with your selfishness and insecurity, Thomas, you will be sorry for it.”
Had they told them about Uncle Sam’s brother because Tommy was gone, lost in a permanent way that couldn’t be changed, to make a point to Thomas about how his own actions could cause him to lose Faith?
Feeling like it was time for her to take Thomas and Johnny’s comments on the Cliff Walk the other day to heart, she gripped her cousin’s hand tight, so he looked at her, his face mottled and sad.
She hoped he understood how difficult it was for his parents to tell him about their past, about the uncle he would never know, and that he wasn’t allowing himself to get mired in his own feelings instead.
“Please have faith in me, Thomas. After all, that’s my name, isn’t it?”
The lightness in her voice sounded forced to her own ears, but he smiled a little at her quip, although it wasn’t very clever.
“Perhaps you should stay home instead of spending your mornings at your uncle’s house, Thomas, or find another way to occupy your time aside from helping at First Steps. That may be the best thing for the both of you right now, if Mr. d’Amici will continue to be a point of contention.”
Oh, no, Faith frowned, fighting the urge to scratch at her hand, which suddenly began to itch as Uncle Sam spoke.
As much as she loved learning from Uncle Will and working on his designs, she didn’t think she would want to continue without Thomas.
“That’s a good idea, Father. As much as I hate to admit it, it’s a good idea.”
Thomas sighed loudly, then stared at Faith, who was incredulous. How could he agree with that? Surely he could control his anger, or jealousy, or whatever was driving him to be so moody over Nico.
Was he really afraid of losing her?
“You don’t have to, Thomas. I’m sure everything will be fine now. You and Nico can get along, can't you?”
He shook his head sadly, his gray eyes swollen now from his earlier crying.
But now he seemed sure of himself.
“I don’t like how he looks at you, or honestly, how you look at him. There’s no possible way he can be good for you, and,” he pressed his lips together as Faith began to protest, and she closed her own mouth, waiting for him to continue. “I don’t know if I can help reminding him of that fact. Isn’t it better for me to be honest with myself, and with you, instead of making us both miserable?”
When would she see Thomas, then, if not every morning? She could stop going to Uncle Will’s, but she didn’t want to, and he might be upset to lose them both.
“But you’ll come back, right?”
He shrugged, seeming not to care about it nearly as much as she did.
When she turned away, he let go of her hand, and she wondered why this was happening. Thomas had never seemed so vulnerable, not since the day they met, when he was only looking for some food for his father.
They were both grown, now, no longer children, and she knew that eventually, they would both marry and have families of their own.
But they would always be cousins, always best friends.
Why couldn’t he see that?
“Faith, why don’t I call your father to send a carriage for you? You don’t need to be walking home, not in this heat, and not after what’s happened.”
No, she shook her head as she considered this. A walk by the water she loved so much was exactly what she needed to clear her head, to pray and ask for help figuring out how to muddle through this emotional whirlwind in her heart.
The house was too quiet when Faith arrived home, as grubby and sweaty as she had ever been. She allowed Joanna to tend to her, nodding and shaking her head at all of her questions but keeping her mouth shut.
She wouldn’t be the one to interrupt the silence in the mansion, the tension that felt like a layer of ice ready to crack at the slightest provocation.
When she slept, falling into bed like a worn out little girl, she dreamt of a time when she and Thomas had played in the ocean at Bailey’s Beach with other children during the season, their governesses calling out often to reprimand many of them for their antics.
There was a moment when a beautiful girl with dark curls tumbling from her bathing cap fluttered her eyelashes at Thomas, who merely smiled and spoke with her politely.
In her dream, Faith remembered the strange pang she felt in her chest, unsure why she disliked the attention the girl was getting from her cousin.
Now, when she awoke all these years later and hopefully wiser, she realized that it had been jealousy.