A Haven for Her Heart

by Susan Anne Mason

  “That’s a marvelous idea.” Olivia clapped her hands together. “We could make a cake or bake cookies. And have punch. I’ll ask Mrs. Neale if she has any good recipes.”

  “Excellent. We’ll make it very festive.”

  “Can we do it on Friday, since I have plans for Saturday?” Olivia asked.

  “Another date?” Ruth’s brow rose.

  Heat infused Olivia’s cheeks. “Actually, I’ve been invited to Sofia’s fifth birthday party. Which reminds me, I have to go shopping for a gift. Maybe I could pick up some decorations while I’m out.”

  Ruth nodded, the lines around her eyes easing. Yet their usual sparkle was missing. “This is exactly what we need around here. Everyone can forget their problems and have a little fun for a change.”

  Olivia hated to ruin the moment, but from her friend’s downhearted demeanor, she had to ask. “Is anything else bothering you, Ruth?”

  Ruth let out a long breath. “The city council meetings resume in a few weeks’ time. Our alderman contacted me to say that Mr. Simmons will be presenting his petition against Bennington Place at the first fall meeting. I’ve heard he has close to five hundred signatures.”

  Olivia flew to her feet. “That man is such a nuisance.” She paced to the bookcase and back. “We have to be there to counteract his petition. If only some of the women would come too and testify about the benefits the home provides. But I don’t think any of them would agree to do that.”

  “What about you, Olivia?”

  “Me?”

  “Your passion for the cause inspired me. Perhaps if you told the council what made you want to open a maternity home, it would help to sway the vote.”

  Olivia’s legs began to shake. She could never get up before a panel of council members and share her shameful tale. To do so would destroy any chance she ever had at regaining her respectability. “I don’t think so, Ruth. I’m sorry.”

  Ruth regarded her with a faint air of disappointment. “It’s all right. We’ll have others to plead our case. I’m sure it will be enough.”

  Olivia hated that she wasn’t brave enough to do what Ruth asked. But the mere thought of it made her stomach churn and her palms sweat.

  The telephone on the desk rang. Ruth answered it, then handed the receiver to Olivia. “It’s for you. Someone named Joannie.”

  A flood of guilt rushed through Olivia. Despite her good intentions, she’d never gone back to visit her friend. What must Joannie think of her?

  Ruth slipped out of the room, giving Olivia some privacy. After a moment to collect herself, she spoke into the receiver. “Joannie, how are you? I’m sorry I had to cancel my last visit.”

  “That’s all right. I know it can’t be easy coming back here. Besides, I have great news.”

  Olivia’s tense muscles loosened. Joannie had never sounded so cheerful. “What is it?”

  “I’m getting out of this hellhole early. Next week, to be exact.” Her excitement was palpable even over the phone.

  “That’s wonderful,” Olivia said. “Are you still planning to stay with me for a while until you get a job?” Her mind raced with the preparations she’d have to make for Joannie’s arrival.

  The silence on the line gave Olivia her first niggle of worry.

  “Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I’ve made other plans. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Something in her tone had warning bells ringing in Olivia’s head. “Of course not. I’m happy you have somewhere to go. Did your family come around after all?” She prayed that was the case.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then where are you going?”

  A long pause ensued. Olivia’s fingers tightened on the receiver.

  “Jimmy came to see me. He said he misses me like crazy and asked me to move in with him. He’s got a place in a rooming house near the garage where he works. And once I find a job, we’ll be able to get a better place.”

  Oh, Joannie. Olivia pressed a hand to her forehead. This was the last thing her friend needed. A sure way to sabotage her fresh start. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You could do anything you choose with your life. You could go back to school—”

  “I don’t want to go to school. I want to marry Jimmy, and as soon as we have enough money saved, that’s what we’re going to do.” A pause. “I thought you’d be happy for me.”

  Olivia winced at the hurt in Joannie’s voice, but how could she act pleased when the girl was about to make a terrible mistake? She inhaled and tried to quell her misgivings. “As long as you’re happy, then I am too. Promise me you’ll keep in touch?”

  “I promise.”

  “Do you want me to be there when you’re released?”

  “No, Jimmy’s coming to get me. He’s got a surprise planned.”

  Olivia’s stomach twisted tighter than the phone cord. She could only imagine what that would entail. “Be careful, Joannie. You don’t want to end up in the same situation a second time.”

  “That’s not gonna happen. I know better now.”

  Olivia bit back additional words of caution, not wanting to alienate the girl altogether. “All right. Well, you’ll have to come for a visit once you’re settled.”

  “I will. Look, I gotta run now. Take care and wish me luck.”

  The connection ended before Olivia could even say good-bye. Slowly, she hung up the receiver, an unsettled feeling swirling inside her. Would she ever hear from Joannie again? She let out a long sigh, then bowed her head.

  Lord, please watch over Joannie and protect her from any further harm.

  Later that afternoon, Olivia stepped out of Woolworth’s Department Store onto the sidewalk. Despite her success in finding a perfect gift for Sofia, her mind kept drifting back to her conversation with Joannie. She hated that her friend was returning to the same circumstances that had caused all her problems in the first place. But there was nothing Olivia could do to help the situation, except pray for her friend.

  Olivia waited for the next streetcar, paid her fare, and sat with her parcels on her lap. As the streets passed by, her thoughts turned to her family. Her visit with Sal had resurrected a deep longing to reconnect with her parents. Sal had said her mother missed her. And she desperately missed Mamma. Why should her father dictate that they couldn’t see each other? If he wanted nothing to do with her, so be it. But she had every right to see her mother. At the very least, she had a right to patronize Rosetti’s Market, and if she happened to run into Mamma there, well, he couldn’t stop that.

  Olivia checked her watch. It was still early enough in the afternoon to squeeze in a trip to the store. Before she could change her mind, she got ready to disembark and catch the next bus going north.

  Thirty minutes later, she walked slowly down the street toward the store, enjoying the late-August sunshine. This time, Olivia paused to drink in the sights and smells of her old neighborhood. Mrs. Egan changing the mannequin in the window of her dress shop; old Mr. Franco sweeping the sidewalk in front of the barber shop; the enticing aroma of garlic and onions drifting down from the open windows above the stores. Each brought back cherished memories of her childhood.

  When she reached Rosetti’s, she slowed to a stop and eyed the women who stood by the sidewalk bins, fingering the nectarines and peaches. Olivia didn’t recognize them, but it didn’t mean they wouldn’t know her. With a determined lift of her chin, she walked past them into the store. Inside, she inhaled the familiar scent of fresh produce before scanning the area for her mother. She hoped to catch her alone, to talk to her without Papà’s hawkish eyes watching them.

  Luck was on her side. She found her mother in the last aisle, mopping up a broken jar of pickles. She wore a black skirt, a red apron, and a kerchief tied around her hair.

  “Ciao, Mamma.” A bubble of warmth surged through Olivia’s chest.

  Her mother’s head snapped up. “Olivia.” The initial delight on her face faded as quickly as it had appeared. She set the mop aside and turned to
glance over her shoulder.

  Olivia moved closer, the warped wooden boards creaking beneath her feet, and clasped her mother in a hug. “I came to let you know I’m all right.” She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of oregano and garlic. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch.”

  Mamma hugged her back. “I’ve missed you, cara. You look better.” She held Olivia at arm’s length. “You gained some weight.”

  “A little. I’m almost back to normal.”

  “Salvatore says you work with troubled women. Are you happy there?” Little creases marred Mamma’s forehead between her small dark eyes.

  “Yes, Mamma.” She forced any sad thoughts away. Now was not the time to remember her sorrows. “How is everyone? Have you heard from Tony?”

  “Sì, he writes often. He is doing as well as he can in a war.”

  “I pray for him every night,” Olivia whispered. “And for all of you too.”

  “Grazie, cara. I worry so much for you.” Tears sprang to Mamma’s eyes.

  Olivia pulled her close in another warm hug. Though Olivia was not considered tall, her mother came only to her chin. “I love you, Mamma. And despite everything, I love Papà too. I’m trying hard to forgive him for what he did, for making me lose my son. But it will take some time.”

  “I understand.” She wiped tears from her cheeks. “I have to get back to work. Thank you for coming.”

  “I’ll try to visit more often.” Olivia smiled, kissed her mother’s cheek, then headed toward the door. For a brief second, she considered trying to talk to her father but quickly dismissed the idea, not wanting to ruin this small moment of victory.

  Her gaze drifted behind the counter where the opening to the staircase was visible, and for a moment she allowed herself to imagine living upstairs again. But with a start, she realized she didn’t belong in that apartment anymore. Like her barren bedroom, stripped of everything that mattered to her, she no longer fit there. She’d changed too much to go back.

  The bell jangled as a woman came in.

  Olivia recognized Mrs. Ceruti, one of her neighbors. Genuine pleasure flooded her system, along with a rush of memories. Louisa Ceruti had been Olivia’s best friend through school, and this woman had once been as close as a second mother. Smiling, Olivia approached her. “Mrs. Ceruti, it’s good to see you.”

  A flash of recognition registered on the woman’s face, but immediately her features froze. She lifted her chin and, without so much as a word, turned up the aisle.

  Olivia sucked in a breath. A slap to the face couldn’t have hurt more. Perhaps she should let the snub go, but remnants of her old temper rose hot in her chest. How could the woman dismiss Olivia as though she didn’t exist?

  “Mrs. Ceruti, how is Louisa doing?” she called up the aisle.

  The woman pivoted, her brows raised. “Louisa is fine. She’s married to a doctor, and they’re expecting their first baby.” Her nose couldn’t get much higher.

  Heat flared in Olivia’s gut. She knew. Somehow Mrs. Ceruti knew and now deemed Olivia beneath her. Despite every urge to duck her head and run, some dark force twisted inside Olivia, spurring her on. “You must tell Louisa hello for me.”

  Mrs. Ceruti’s nose wrinkled. “She would want nothing to do with the likes of you. Frankly, I can’t believe you have the nerve to show up here and disgrace your parents this way.”

  Her voice had grown loud enough to create a stir in the store. People stopped what they were doing to gawk in their direction.

  Olivia looked up and met the scowling countenance of her father. Customers turned, looks of disdain on their faces. Snatches of whispers made their way to her.

  “Isn’t that the daughter? The one who . . .”

  “Such a shame how she turned out. . . .”

  “After all they’ve done for her . . .”

  Each hateful comment pricked at her skin, tearing at her composure. She thought her pregnancy had been kept secret, but obviously her family hadn’t bothered to hide her disgrace after all.

  “How dare you judge me?” Olivia’s limbs shook as she glared around the motley group. “I seem to remember all of you attending the same church as our family. A church that preaches compassion and forgiveness. Not hate and condemnation.” Her glare moved from Mrs. Ceruti to her father. “I may be far from perfect, but I have come to know God’s grace and have experienced His forgiveness. So from where I stand, I’m closer to a Christian than any of you can claim to be.” Her chin quivered, and before she could make more of a spectacle of herself, she whirled around and rushed out the door.

  Olivia stormed down the street, outrage buzzing through her body like static on the radio. Angry tears blurred her vision, but she refused to let a single drop fall. Several blocks later, the rage drained away, leaving her limp and shaky. She looked around for a bus stop and found one nearby. Thankful for the bench there, she sank onto it.

  With the adrenaline rush gone, a cold dose of reality began to sink in. The tiny seed of hope she’d reaped with her mother’s acceptance—hope that one day she might regain her place in the community—shriveled and died inside her.

  More than anything, Olivia craved respectability, and she’d foolishly believed that if she worked hard enough and repented long enough, she could achieve it once more. What a naïve fantasy. It was clear to her now that she would never be respectable again.

  The bus arrived, and she hauled herself onto it, claiming the first vacant seat. As the vehicle lurched forward, Olivia’s gaze fell to the Woolworth’s bag on her lap, and her thoughts inevitably turned to Sofia and Darius. If she continued to be part of their lives, would her disgrace taint them as well?

  Of course it would.

  Her throat closed up, swallowing a cry of despair. Darius deserved a righteous woman, one he could be proud of. Not one who’d been jailed for immorality and given birth out of wedlock. He and Sofia certainly didn’t deserve to pay the price for her sins. To be ostracized because of her.

  “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

  Oh, Darius. I’m sorry. Tears slid down Olivia’s cheek and dripped onto her arm. She couldn’t break her promise to attend Sofia’s birthday, so she would go. But after that, she would have to find the strength to distance herself from Darius and his precious girl and allow them to be free to find someone more suitable for their lives.

  No matter how it would tear her heart out in the process.

  36

  On Saturday afternoon, Darius glanced over at Olivia seated beside him in the car. Looking lovely in a pretty green dress, she sat primly, her back barely touching the seat behind her, with a wrapped present and a plain white box on her lap.

  He could only imagine the nerves that were racing through her at this moment. If he were meeting her parents, he’d feel exactly the same.

  “Please try to relax, Olivia. My parents may be loud, but they’re harmless.”

  She turned wide brown eyes on him. “I’m afraid this might give them the wrong idea. That we’re more than just friends.”

  “That’s because we are more than just friends.” He longed to hold her hand, but her fingers remained in a death grip around the parcels.

  She looked like she wanted to say something more. Instead, she pressed her lips together.

  He decided to let it go. Once they arrived and her nerves settled, she’d see that she’d been worried for nothing.

  Soon he pulled up in front of his parents’ house and turned off the engine. He came around to help Olivia out. She stared at the house, a frown marring her forehead.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “Sofia will be the center of attention. You may notice that her grandparents tend to spoil her.”

  Olivia gave a strained smile. “All children should be spoiled on their birthdays. It’s only right.”

  Darius resisted the urge to hug her, conscious that people might be looking out the window. Hopefully, before the day was over, he could sneak in a few private kisses. It gave him a thr
ill just thinking about it.

  He led the way in the front door, hoping to shield Olivia from his relatives for a moment and give her time to adjust. Sure enough though, his mother and two of his aunts came rushing forward.

  “There he is. Darius is back.”

  “Where is this mysterious woman?”

  Darius cringed but pasted on a smile, tucking Olivia’s arm under his. “Mamá, everyone, this is Olivia Rosetti.”

  He began the introductions, rattling off the names of his relatives and neighbors, certain by her bemused look that she wouldn’t remember one of them.

  Then a beaming Sofia burst through the crowd. She wore a homemade paper crown on top of her dark curls and her favorite pink dress. “Miss Olivia! You came! Is that a present for me?”

  “Sofia,” he warned. “What did I say about asking for presents?”

  “I forgot.” She eyed the gaily colored package with guilty, puppy-dog eyes.

  Olivia set her parcels on a table and held out her arms. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

  Sofia ran to hug her.

  Then Olivia whispered something in Sofia’s ear that caused his daughter’s face to light up.

  “It’s for me?” she asked.

  “Well, you’re the only birthday girl here, right?”

  Olivia handed her the package, then rose and picked up the other box. “This is for you, Mrs. Reed. I know you’ve made a lot of wonderful food, but I wanted to contribute something. It’s a batch of cookies I made this morning.”

  His mother accepted the package with a smile. “That’s so nice. You didn’t have to bring anything.” She looped her arm around Olivia’s waist. “Come to the kitchen where we women can talk.”

  “Wait a minute, Mamá.” Darius followed. “Give Olivia time to get used to everyone.”

  But his mother just waved a hand of dismissal.

  Olivia looked over one shoulder, a hint of panic in her eyes.