Chapter 6

Caroline lugged two satchels up the last step to the door of her childhood home, the third-floor apartment in one of a row of houses in a Holyoke neighborhood. There were no decorations to show that it was Christmas, save a small crèche atop a table beneath the front window. But something delicious was cooking, judging by the aroma wafting from the kitchen.

“Mama, I’m here!” Caroline called out.

Her mother burst into the parlor. She wore the same apron that Caroline remembered from childhood. Yet her mother seemed shorter and more tired, and there were lines on her face Caroline hadn’t noticed until now.

“I’m so glad you’re home.”

Caroline was wrapped in a slim yet tight embrace. “Where’s Eleanor?”

Mama released her, yet still held her shoulders. “She’ll be back right before supper. She’s delivering her sewing. Come to the kitchen with me. You can unpack later. Your bed is all ready.”

Caroline set down the satchels and followed her mother to the kitchen area, where a small table with barely room for four chairs had been tucked into one corner, with one wall having room for a stove and an icebox, along with a small countertop with a few cabinets.

“I’ve made us a chicken pie tonight. I hope you’re hungry.” Mama turned to the stove where a coffeepot perked. “Coffee?”

“No, thank you, but I’m looking forward to the pie.” Her stomach grumbled. “Will Papa be here for supper?”

Mama’s shoulders drooped as she poured a cup of coffee. She joined Caroline at the table. “I don’t know. I hope he will. Told him this morning, before he left, that you’d be home tonight. But I imagine he’ll be down at the Cloverleaf on High Street.”

Things had changed for Caroline, but as she suspected, not much had changed at home. “Well, I’ll be here until the morning after Christmas, so I’m sure I’ll get to see him.”

The front door burst open, and along with a blast of cold air, in came Eleanor. She wore a scarf over her head. It also wrapped her neck and was tucked into the front of her coat. She held a cloth bag that swung freely, empty.

“You’re here!” she said, looking at Caroline. Without waiting for a response, she pulled a small bag from her pocket. “Look, Mama. Plenty of cash and coin for Christmas dinner. Mrs. Brickman paid me an extra dollar for the dress alteration, she was so pleased with it.”

Cheeks flushed, Eleanor marched into the warm kitchen. She set the small bag of money on the table, then tossed the empty bag into the corner, atop a pile of clothing. Mama poured a cup of coffee for Eleanor and set it in front of her.

“I’m bushed. Is the pie ready yet? It smells good.” Eleanor took a sip of the coffee. “Thank you, Mama. So, Caroline, how was your trip from Northampton?”

“Cold, but I’m glad to be here.” She braced herself for the thinly veiled remarks from her sister about her position. Nearly every time she went home to visit, Caroline would hear from her sister in sometimes not-so-subtle terms about Caroline’s apparent putting on airs and becoming too good for the likes of living in Holyoke. She supposed if she taught in Holyoke, dealing with Eleanor might be more tolerable. Eleanor seemed to resent that Caroline had taken a position teaching at a “fancy” academy training spoiled rich girls instead of remaining in her own city.

“So how has the school year been for you?” Mama asked. “Your last letter seemed a bit hurried.”

“I wrote it very quickly to post it before classes,” Caroline admitted. “It has been a good year so far. In fact, my team is leading in the academy’s Academic Olympiad. We’re ahead of Mr. Mason’s team, 91 percent to his 90 percent, for grades so far at midyear.”

She couldn’t help but grin at recalling the look on Stephen’s face when Mrs. Wickham had unveiled the updated scores. Her team had greatly improved their Latin scores, and they’d made improvements in mathematics as well.

“Who’s Mr. Mason?” Eleanor asked.

“He’s a new teacher this year. He’s Mrs. Wickham’s nephew, who came to teach mathematics.” She tried to resist the urge to fidget by clasping her hands in her lap.

“Is he married?” Eleanor glanced at her sideways as she sipped from her coffee cup.

“No, he’s not. He and I are actually in the running for the director position at the academy. Mrs. Wickham is considering both of us as her possible replacement. We’ll find out who wins it at the end of the Academic Olympiad.” She watched for their reactions.

“Why, that’s wonderful.” Her mother clapped her hands. “How long have you known this? I can’t tell you how proud I am.”

“We found out at the beginning of the fall term. I didn’t want to say anything because, well, I don’t know if it will happen.”

“She’d give the school to you?” Eleanor looked shocked, her face reddened.

“No, not the academy itself. But I would run it and manage the teachers and students. She says she’s ready to travel more, while she still can.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes. “Well, that must be nice.” She snatched the bag of money from the table. “I believe I’ll go lie down until supper. I have a bit of a headache from being out in that cold this afternoon.”

Caroline opened her mouth to respond, but Mama gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head as Eleanor strode away from the table. She disappeared around the corner to head to the short hallway and one of the two small bedrooms.

“She was so proud of how her taking in sewing has been keeping her busier and busier.”

“I didn’t mean to sound like I was bragging.” Caroline frowned. “I’m home, happy to see you all, and sharing how things are for me at the school.”

“Of course you are. I’m proud of both of you, as different as you are. Eleanor was never one for book learning, despite how I tried to show her.”

“But she is an excellent seamstress. You have to know mathematics and measure to do what she does. It’s not something everyone can learn.” Caroline glanced toward the front of the apartment and the hall. “I hope she at least considers applying for a position at a dress shop. The work would come to her, and one day she might run a shop herself.”

“Now wouldn’t that be grand?” Mama nodded. “I don’t know if she believes she could do it.”

“I’m certain she could. It would be difficult, but not impossible.”

“This Mr. Mason, being unmarried and teaching there … What do you think of him as a prospect for yourself?”

“Now, Mama—”

Mama waved at her. “Don’t ‘now, Mama’ me. If he’s a prospect, you should think of him. You’re not getting any younger.”

“Mama, I’m hardly getting old. I just don’t want to settle, if only to be married. I don’t want …” She’d nearly said, “I don’t want to struggle like I’ve seen you struggle all these years.”

Mama sighed. “I know your father and I aren’t a good example of a marriage, not one like I believe God intends for those of us who marry. It wasn’t always like this. But since you and your sister have been grown, it’s easier for me to see. I don’t know how to fix it other than taking care of him and loving him. He doesn’t abuse me, and I promise you he never has. But I don’t want you to not step into something beautiful for yourself because of me and your papa.”

She had to admit to herself that her mother’s words were, in fact, true. She hadn’t wanted anyone to come calling, in case he turned out to be like her father. Yes, her father was a hard worker, but he drank and often would not come home until late after being at a pub with friends. Caroline could remember her mother pleading with her father to come home in the evening, to be home at night to spend time with her and two little girls who loved him.

“You’re right, Mama. I don’t want that to happen to me, or to Eleanor. How do I know, though, if it would be something beautiful?”

Mama patted her hand. “I don’t know, because I wasn’t able to judge that for myself. But I had no one to guide me. Jimmy Parker was the first man to pay me some kind attention, and for me he was a way out of where I was. I could have waited, but I didn’t. You, though, don’t wait too long. I know that God has guided you so far, and that He will guide you in this too.”

“Thank you, Mama.”

Her mother embraced her where they sat at the table. “I can’t give you much this Christmas, but I want you to remember how much your papa and I do love you. He wants the best for you too.”

Christmas was dull this year, especially without Caroline at the academy. Stephen, of course, had never spent Christmas at the academy, but even so, he imagined it would be anything but dull with Caroline there. His parents came, as did his sister and her lineup of cherubs, two boys and one girl, from oldest to youngest. His niece, Betsy, played the Christmas carols she had recently learned, and from morning until they shooed her away from the piano, the sitting room and the entire first floor of the house were filled with music.

The boys made snowmen, short little blobs of snow built from the scant snowfall they had not long after school dismissed. The academy was empty, save for the Wickhams and the staff, with the boarding students having gone to spend Christmas with classmates who lived in town.

Aunt Marjorie lavished a feast on them this year, with a pair of roasted geese filled with chestnuts and bread stuffing, turnips and potatoes on the side, and fresh rolls. His father contributed a thick slab of beef, roasted until so tender it fell apart.

He had never paid attention to the warmth of his family. Last year, a returning prodigal who was proving himself, he’d been so caught up in trying to convince them he’d changed that he hadn’t enjoyed himself much.

This year, he had no one to convince, but he didn’t find the enjoyment he thought he would.

He sat in one of the parlor’s wingback chairs, in front of the crackling fire. He liked the fire, but coal was what kept the whole house warm after Aunt Marjorie made the upgrade several years ago.

He was nearly dozing after the large meal. Aunt Marjorie ran a tight ship with tight purse strings, but at Christmastime, she felt free to indulge a bit more than usual. He liked the change.

His Christmas would be complete if only Caroline were here. He realized he wanted her to meet his family, the rest of it, his parents and sister and brother-in-law, the whole brood. She would enjoy his niece and nephews, or he hoped she would. This was something new for him. He’d never met a woman he wanted to introduce to his family. Yet he knew she needed to be with her family.

“Why so gloomy looking, little brother?” Victoria took the chair across from him. His parents, along with Aunt Marjorie and his brother-in-law, were playing a game of charades with the children. Or they were trying to play, judging by the many explanations punctuated by the laughter of children in the room across the hall.

“Not gloomy. I’m tired, after all this eating.” He smiled at her.

“Well, it looks as if something is on your mind. And has been, ever since we arrived yesterday. You’ve been quieter than usual.” She studied his face intently. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I wish you had been able to meet Miss Parker. She’s spending Christmas with her family.”

“Oh, the teacher you’re trying to beat in the Olympiad.”

He nodded. “She’s ahead right now, but only by a little. I think you’d like her.”

She reached out and nudged his arm. “What are you telling me? Are you sweet on her? Doesn’t Aunt Marjorie have rules about things like that?”

Stephen chuckled. “She does. But still, whether or not I’m sweet on her, I think you’d like her if you met her.”

“Maybe I’ll get the chance to, eventually. I’m surprised we’re here at all. Richard wasn’t keen on traveling this year, but the children were excited to see their grandparents, and you, and their great-auntie Marge.”

“Great-Auntie Marge. She’d never let us call her that.”

“No, she wouldn’t,” Victoria chuckled. “But you didn’t answer my question. Are you sweet on her?”

He shrugged. He didn’t want to say. “I could be. Right now, though, I don’t think it’s a good idea to pursue. I don’t have much to offer her, or any woman.”

“You’ve come a long way from where you were before, and that’s saying a lot.”

“Thank you.” He hoped so. Where he was now was so much better than where he’d been.

Maybe next Christmas dinner, there would be another seat at the table, for her. Was it an unrealistic thought right now? Perhaps it was.

“Hey, you two! We need some help with these charades.” His mother’s voice sounded a little harried.

Stephen and Victoria exchanged glances. “We’ll be right there!” he called out.