“I’m not sure, dear. After all, I can’t leave you alone in this house any more than you wanted to leave me.”
In the span of a heartbeat, many things became clear: why her mother was not anxious about her youngest child finally flying from the nest and her recent preoccupied disposition. Perhaps Evelyn had been pondering her future, or even her past, and considering what it meant to become another man’s wife. Of course, this explained her mother allowing herself to be monopolized by Mr. Nickerson at every gathering and each event they both attended. For years!
“We could sell this house,” Evelyn continued, “and you could live with Mr. Nickerson and myself at his home until your wedding day.”
Rose felt herself pale and had to sift through the myriad feelings her mother’s words evoked, with the initial one being abject dismay. How awful — to move along with her mother like an unwelcome spinster! Fervently, she thanked God she was not one. Her second feeling was amazement, that her mother would no longer reside on Beacon Hill as she had since the age of twenty-one, but rather in Cambridge. Mr. Nickerson’s large home was across the river on Brattle Street, a Greek revival-style mansion that seemed massively oversized for two people.
Lastly, Rose felt sweet relief wash over her like cool rainwater. She would no longer have the overarching worry of leaving her mother alone. Moreover, the cream on top of her Bakewell pudding was that Mr. Nickerson was a retired merchant, albeit an impressively successful one, who had opened a string of emporiums around Boston and another two in Philadelphia. Surely, his being in trade would soften her family’s reception of Finn as a shipbuilder, even if he were only to be known as her former husband and not her current one.
“Or you could live with Elise and Michael in the interim,” her mother continued, oblivious to the thoughts swirling in her daughter’s head. “It’s obviously too crowded at Reed’s.”
Rose had to smile as her mother shuddered slightly. Evelyn had never approved of her son’s home on the wharf. Even though Rose thought it quite charming, she was glad she didn’t have to be foisted off onto any of her married siblings.
“We’ll worry about that later,” Rose said, noticing with amusement her mother’s raised eyebrows at the uncharacteristic calm and levelheadedness of her youngest child. “It will be a welcome relief to turn from planning my wedding to yours.”
Mr. Nickerson coughed, and her mother blushed prettily.
“I wouldn’t dream of treading on the spectacle ofyourwedding day,” Evelyn said. “As for us,” she glanced at her groom, “there won’t be a wedding ceremony, per se. That would be unseemly. Some will frown on us marrying at all. In any case, I certainly won’t be walking down the aisle in a new dress. Nor does Mr. Nickerson have any desire to stand at the altar in a morning suit. We have both had that experience before, and those days are far behind us.”
“Exactly,” said the reserved gentleman before expounding further, “We plan on having a small civil union, only the two of us and our immediate families, of course. It is not something young people ever consider.”
Rose almost rolled her eyes. Little did he know that she had already done precisely that type of weddingsansfamily. And she’d loved it. The day was etched in her brain, perhaps stronger than any other.
“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” she exclaimed, feeling giggly, lightheaded, and a little terrified all at once.
“You’re making me the happiest man in the world,” Finn said.
“It’s the same for me,” she assured him, knowing her mouth was wearing a generous smile she could not hide.
They’d entered the courthouse hand-in-hand.
“No regrets about not having your family around you, then?” Finn asked.
She remembered looking into his perfect blue-gray eyes and saying, “You are my family now.”
He’d given her a lopsided grin, and she knew he was pleased.
“What aboutyourfather and brothers?” she’d asked.
“I doubt they would’ve come down from Portland anyway. I’ll take you up to meet them someday soon.”
Then they were ushered into the justice’s office, where the process was over in minutes.
Mr. and Mrs. Phineas Bennet.
In the end, she’d never met her husband’s family. If they’d gone to the memorial service for theGarrard, she did not know.
“Dearest, you look as if you’re a hundred miles away,” her mother said. “Did you need me? Do you want tea?”
Mr. Nickerson remained standing while Rose dithered. Now what? She had wanted to talk privately with her mother about delicate matters. She could do neither with her mother’sbeaustanding by.
“I merely came in to tell you I was going to see Claire. I’ll see you later, Mama. Good day, Mr. Nickerson.” She hurried to the door, then turned back, “Congratulations to you both.” She meant it with her whole heart.
Rose was still contemplating the unexpected turn of events when she strolled into Claire’s foyer and was told by the housekeeper that her friend was in a terrible state.
Red-eyed and retired to her room, Claire would see no one except Rose who was shown upstairs immediately.
“What’s wrong? Why didn’t you send for me?” Rose demanded, sitting on the bed beside Claire, who lay stretched out, her hand to her forehead, and looking positively wretched.
