“He’s…” She glowers the second I say “he,” instead of “she,” but I keep on. “He’s a friend from work.”
“A friend. I see. Your friend gave you an expensive necklace with a locket.”
Granny has always been subtle as a brick. I sit across from her, resigned to the conversation. If only I’d thought to tuck the locket under my blouse before I came in. But I didn’t, so here I sit. The room’s so small our knees almost touch. I can’t figure out if I feel trapped or if I’m relieved to talk with her about him.
“He’s a fine man. I like him terribly, Granny.”
She sighs. “You were always building castles in the air, you were.”
What she means is that I’m dreaming, but that’s not fair. “Granny, I’m seventeen. I’m old enough to know my own way.”
She makes a puffing noise through her lips. “Is that right? Sure, and maybe you are. For I was fifteen when I married. Don’t mean I had a clue what I was doing.”
“Fifteen? And you’re huffing at me?” I exclaim. She’s never imparted that little gem to me before.
She tuts and wipes her mouth. “Is he a pleasant sort?”
That’s as good as an apology right there. “He’s very pleasant. And handsome.”
She puffs again. “What does that matter? Put silk on a goat and it is still a goat, aye? No one cares what you look like when you’re old. What matters is that he’ll not raise a hand to you. That he is kind and treats you well.”
“He does. He cares for me, Granny. He’d never do me harm, nor I him.”
She studies the locket again. “I’d say he does.” Then, “Do you love him, Roisin?”
You could knock me over, hearing that. She’s never so much as said that word around me before, and now she’s asking it so directly I’ve no idea how to answer. Do I love Damien? I know I think of him every minute of every day, and I miss him as soon as I say goodbye. I know that one smile of his melts away any sadness I might be carrying. I know I have thought about taking up his name someday and adding it to mine.
“How do I know?” I ask quietly.
She shrugs. “Well now, I don’t think anyone knows for sure. Do you trust him?”
“I do, Granny.”
“Maybe that’s enough then,” she says. There’s a pause, and I know she is thinking deeply about what to say next. I can tell ’tis important, what she came up with, so I pay close attention. “There’s no cure for love but to marry, Rosie. If you’ve sinful thoughts, you’d best see Father William.”
I think about kissing Damien all the time. And yes, I have thought about going to see the priest, but I’ve put it off, since I don’t like breathing the same air as the man. I wonder how Granny knows that I have sinful thoughts.
She makes another sound, but this time it’s more like a chuckle. “Sure, and I’ve not always been old. We all have sinful thoughts, child. ’Tis only that we must confess them to God.”
In the morning, Damien is by my door, waiting for me. I try to act as I always do when I’m with him, but of course I’m not the same, and neither is he.This necklace is a promise from him. A commitment. And I took it with my whole heart. I am making a promise to him, too, just by wearing it. I am so happy I could float into the sky.
He’s proud, seeing that I’m wearing the locket. “Looks grand on you, Rosie.”
I squeeze his hand. “I will never take it off.”
But there’s a bit of trouble that comes with the necklace. I have questions about it, and about him. Questions that need answers. I hold my tongue for most of our walk, until I can’t bear it another second.
“I heard something about you, Damien, and it frightens me.”
“What’s that?”
“I was told you work for a criminal as well as for the hotel.”
He avoids my stare, and I see with regret that Mrs. Evans is right.
“No need to be frightened,” he assures me.
“Oh, but there is. I can’t have you getting hurt or arrested or worse.”
