“I did, indeed,” I told her. “’Tis a beautiful day to be outside—or in.”
“Aye.” Mister Goodman moved away from Mama and toward the door. “I should be getting back to the shop. I left my apprentice to work on his own, but with the warm weather and his impending wedding, I doubt he’s been productive. Good day, Libby.” He nodded at Mama, a special smile lighting his face. “Good day, Theodosia.”
“Good day, Alpheus.”
Mister Goodman walked past me to the hallway and then let himself out.
I stared at Mama, who busied herself pushing the chairs back to the table. “Do you plan to work this afternoon?” she asked, avoiding eye contact.
“Is there something I should know about Mister Goodman?” My question was tender yet challenging. If she was growing close to him, shouldn’t I know?
She finally stopped fussing with the chairs and gave me her attention. “Alpheus is a wonderful man. He’s kind and good, and he loves the Lord with all his heart. His business is doing well and—” She paused as she swallowed and ran her hand along the back of the chair. “He could provide well for the girls and me when—” She paused again without looking at me, yet I knew what she intended to say.
“When I’m gone.”
“We only have two months left.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “I’ve been thinking and praying a lot, and I have some hard decisions to make.”
I moved across the room to stand in front of her. “Why haven’t you been discussing them with me?”
“To what end, Libby? Every time we discuss these things, we both end up weeping.” She moved to the door and closed it, then came back and said quietly, “When you are gone, I will have to move on with my life, and I will not have you here to help make decisions for our family.”
A pang of grief hit as I realized Mama was starting to push me away. Not because she didn’t love me, but because she was trying to mourn her loss apart from me. I couldn’t fault her. She would need to mourn in whatever way she felt best, just as I would.
But it still hurt.
“Have you come to any decisions?” I asked just above a whisper, afraid my voice would crack if I spoke any louder.
“I believe I have.” She took a deep breath. “Alpheus has asked me to marry him. He doesn’t know you’ll be leaving us, so he fully believes that you and the girls will come with me.”
“You’re leaving the printing press?” I couldn’t believe what she was saying. The print shop had been her life for so long that it seemed unimaginable she would no longer be a part of it.
“I cannot run it without you, Libby, and to be honest, I don’t want to.” She clasped her hands together and paced over to the window. “This was your papa’s dream, and then yours. You two had the passion for it, not me. I quite like the idea of simply running Alpheus’s home and not his business.” She turned back to look at me. “I will have more time for Hannah and Rebecca.”
My spirit caught on those words.More time for Hannah and Rebecca.It was what we all wanted. But more than that, if Mama married Mister Goodman, then she and the girls wouldbe provided for once I was gone. They wouldn’t need to worry about finances anymore. The girls could have new gowns without going into debt.
“And what of Mariah and Abraham?” I asked, the fight going out of me.
“They’re free to come or go as they like. Alpheus has said they can continue working for us if they want. His business does very well, and he’s in need of another man.”
I placed my hands on my hips and stared down at the floor, trying to control my emotions. It was difficult to think about my family moving on once I was gone. Of giving up the press and moving into someone else’s home.
“I haven’t wanted to burden you with these things.” Mama walked back across the room and put her hand on my shoulder. “You have enough to contend with on your own.”
It took me a moment to find my voice. “And who will take over the press?”
“I will offer to sell it to Louis.”
I closed my eyes, struggling with the idea that Louis would continue our legacy. “But what about his threats? Have you not inquired if there is someone else?”
“No one has shown an interest. But it matters not to me. I simply want to be done, Libby. I’m tired and heartsore. If he is in a position to purchase the press, who am I to stop him?”
“Are you certain that’s what you want?”
“I do not care for Louis as a man,” she confessed, “but as an employee, he’s been faithful to us. I know he will make changes—”
“He’ll run this as a Tory press.” The words were vehement as they came out of my mouth.
“Aye,” she conceded, “but not for long. You forget the war will be over one day, and men like Louis will have to decide if they want to go to England or if they want to become an American. There will be no middle ground.”
