But he didn’t. Instead, he rose from the table and went to the window. A habit I’d learned meant he was contemplating. Searching.
It gave me hope—until he said, “Aye. ’Tis best.”
Those few words broke my heart in two. Marcus wasn’t fighting for me. For us. He was going to let me go.
And I would let him.
22
AUGUST 15, 1927
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA
I was thankful for a reprieve from theOcean Curseand Marcus the next day as I helped Mother prepare for the arrival of a special guest. It was a strange reality to have a broken heart over a man who lived two hundred years ago. If Mother noticed my somber mood, she didn’t comment. She probably assumed it had something to do with Lewis. Had she or Father noticed us embrace yesterday when he dropped me off at the house?
Pushing thoughts of Marcus aside, I focused on what Lewis might have learned when he went to the Green Lantern bar. Did he know if Annie was in Saint Paul? Where she might be staying? How long she’d be there?
Just after lunch, a knock at the front door told us that our guest had arrived.
“She’s here,” Mother said excitedly as she rushed into the foyer. Father was away from home today, working on the tent revival and Lindbergh’s arrival, which were only eight days away.
“Irene!” Mother said as she opened the front door.
My beautiful cousin stood on the porch with a suitcase in hand. She was wearing a pretty summer dress, and her blondhair was a bit longer than it had been in May, but it was still stylish under her blue cloche hat. “Aunt Marian!” She set down her suitcase and gave my mother a hug. “And Caroline,” Irene said next as she left my mother and hugged me. “It’s so good to see you again.”
Despite the trouble Irene had given me in Paris, I was happy she had come to be part of the Lindbergh celebration and the revival.
“Are you excited to see Lindbergh again?” I asked her.
“You have no idea. All my friends are so envious.” She glanced at my mother and offered an embarrassed laugh. “And, of course, I’m excited to hear Uncle Daniel preach again. I’m a bit of a celebrity in Des Moines because I’m related to him.”
“How kind,” Mother said with a gentle smile. “Now, you must get settled, and then we’ll have a nice long visit.”
Though Irene had stayed with us many times before, I showed her to the spare bedroom on the second floor. She chatted about the train ride from Des Moines, a new dress her mother had made for her to wear for the Lindbergh festivities, and the job she had started as a children’s governess this summer.
“Mama didn’t want me to get a job,” she told me as she removed her hat and gloves and set them on the bureau in the spare room. “But I know how tight finances are since Papa’s death, and I wanted to help.”
“That’s very kind of you,” I said, noticing something different about Irene though I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. There was a softness to her, a gentleness she hadn’t exhibited in Paris.
“It’s helped me so much,” she confided as she took a seat on the bed and patted the spot next to her.
I sat, smiling. “I could tell something was different.”
Irene looked down at her polished nails and nodded. “I was hurting so much in Paris, Caroline. Losing Papa was a blow I hadn’t seen coming, and it turned my world upside down. But I think seeing Mama suffer was the worst part. She’s still very sad, but I haven’t seen her cry in weeks.”
“And how has the job helped?”
She shrugged. “It took my mind off things and gave me something to look forward to.” Her eyes shone as she met my gaze. “The children are darlings, and they seem to love me, no matter what I wear or how I act. I’ve never felt such unconditional acceptance. I guess it gave me hope that my life could be full of a family of my own one day. I don’t know. I suppose that sounds silly.”
“Not at all. I’m happy to hear that your grief is easing and that your work has helped.”
“I also owe you and your parents my gratitude, and perhaps an apology. I know I was difficult in Paris—”
“You don’t owe us an apology.”
“But I want to make one. I’m especially sorry for the night you followed me to the Dingo Bar. I didn’t think about the consequences at the time, but I understand the position I was putting you and your parents in.”
“Please don’t apologize to them for that. It would be better if they didn’t know.”
