Yet she also lived with two ghosts—the shades of Torin and Jewel in her mind—who often accompanied her in variousactivities. When she went into Mr. Bellaire’s library to search for a book, she imagined Torin doing likewise. He’d take the matching comfortable chair snugged next to a big window, and they’d companionably read. When she watched Micah, a kind and helpful boy, play with his friends, she could visualize him patiently teaching Jewel to catch a ball. Or Torin’s expression when he held Andrea with the competence of an experienced father. Or how Jewel’s face would light up when, protectively propped by pillows, they placed the baby in her lap.
She wondered what they’d think of the unusual Creole food often served. During her pregnancy, Delia had expressed a craving for the familiar food of New Orleans, and her doting father had fresh seafood shipped from there to Sweetwater Springs in barrels of ice on the refrigerated rail cars. The tradition continued after the baby’s birth. Gumbo, jambalaya, and red beans and rice tasted too spicy for the palates of the New Yorkers, so Rose, Cora, and Ivy ate milder versions, as did the elder Nortons, Dr. Angus and Constance, and Elsie, when they visited. Hank and Brian preferred the heat.
But along with the more exotic food, the cook crafted familiar main dishes such as chicken, pork, beef, or venison. Even Ivy’s lack of appetite was no match for the cook’s wonderful creations.
The joy of the new baby permeated the house, especially with Uncle Andre who went around beaming, making no secret how being married to his lost love and living with a previously unknown daughter and her family, and then having a granddaughter, when he’d never thought to have progeny, was an untold abundance of blessings.
Ivy held the tiny babe, who looked just like her beautiful mama, and wondered if she’d ever cradle her own child. She grieved a little for those unborn babies.
Unless she retreated to her room, Ivy always had companionship. Brian visited every day, and she had to make excuses to leave and give the two lovebirds courting time.
Once, she caught Brian and Cora sitting in a window alcove in the upstairs hallway. The two held hands and seemed involved in a serious conversation. Before Ivy could discreetly retreat, they waved her over.
Brian tapped his fingers on his knee. “We’re discussing whether or not to go check on Torin and Jewel. As much as we are worried and want to see them, if this separation is to work, he needs to experience complete isolation.”
This is so hard! What if he goes years without relenting? What if he never does?
Her expression must have shown on her face, for Cora give her a reassuring look. “We have a plan.”
“Of course, you do,” Ivy muttered, sending Brian a wry grimace. “In case you haven’t figured it out…Cora always has a plan.”
“So I’m learning,” he matched her tone. “I’ll give that lunkhead some more time to stew. Next week, I’ll write him a letter, extolling the virtues and pleasures of Sweetwater Springs to see if I can entice him out of his shell.” He puffed out his chest, took on an expression of pomposity, and shook a finger in her direction. “You know what abrilliantwriter I am. Torin won’t be able to resist the enticement described in my epistle.”
His playfulness did the trick, easing Ivy’s fears somewhat and charming a smile from her.
Most evenings, after the dressmaking shop closed, Constance and Elsie came to the mansion to work on Ivy’s new gown.
Delia often sat with them, sometimes nursing the baby, or passing her over to Aunts Cora and Ivy or Grandmama Rose. Joshua’s mother, Mary Norton, a petite woman with a sweet, wrinkled face and gentle manner, occasionally joined them.
The dress was taking on far more elegance than what Ivy could have managed on her own, what with Delia gifting her lace and Constance velvet trim and Rose brass buttons embossed with ivy leaves. To assuage Ivy’s pride, the women framed them as welcoming gifts.
As they talked, laughed, and drank tea and ate cookies, Ivy started to get to know the ladies and find them very congenial, indeed. She couldn’t help feeling some bitterness that the very opportunities she’d wanted—female friendships—had come at such a painful price. As much as she wished to, Ivy couldn’t wholeheartedly enjoy herself in their company.
Then, too, there were times when Ivy felt she was the outsider of the group. Not just because she was a newcomer, but because all the other women were in relationships with men they loved and who adored them in turn. The ladies weren’t unaware of their menfolk’s failings. Some of the teasing conversations reflected that knowledge. Their contentment only made her more aware of the empty space inside her heart.
On Saturday, under the pretext of discussing Latin and tutoring Micah, Reverend Joshua invited her into his study, a comfortable room for research, writing, reading, and speaking privately with parishioners. His big, paper-covered desk, overflowing bookshelves, a rustic cross with the two bars lashed with twine, and some comfortable chairs, all lit by big windows framed with stained glass, looked the epitome of a churchman’s den.
He asked her about her tutoring experience, and she relayed some stories of her pupils. They chatted about how he’d lost his once-superior fluency in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew.
He described his first wife’s family and their rule at mealtimes to converse solely in those three languages, which, at the time, he found mentally stimulating. However, after nineyears in Africa, he found on his return that much of those languages had fallen out of his mind.
“Although, after a few years in Uganda,” he told her, with an amused expression, “I could deliver a fairly competent sermon in Swahili.”
Under other circumstances, Ivy would have asked to hear an example of the language. But, somehow, she’d lost her curiosity.
Best to focus on how I can earn my keep.Even as the bitter thought came to her, Ivy knew Reverend Joshua didn’t mean any such thing.
“I’d greatly appreciate you working with Micah, so he doesn’t have to make do with my hit-or-miss efforts.”
“I don’t know Hebrew or Greek,” she warned.
“That’s up to me. I try from time to time, knowing if Micah ever visits his grandparents or attends seminary school, it would be best if he were semi-fluent.” He sat back in his chair and steepled his hands. “I think the time has come for you to go out in society. If you agree, attending church tomorrow would be a good place to start.”
So soon?
“We’ll simply introduce you as Cora’s friend from New York. If anyone questions you too closely, you can turn the conversation away from yourself by asking about their lives. People love to talk about themselves. Would you be comfortable with such an outing?”
No.Not that she would say so. Ivy supposed few people felt comfortable among a group of strangers, all curious about her. But even more so, she wondered if socializing meant taking a step farther away from Torin and Jewel.
