She had an extra pair of shoes in her backpack, her khakis stuffed into tall winter boots. It was harder walking through about eight inches of snow. As she trudged through it, she argued with herself about what to do with the letters. Henrietta had a right to them—and she needs to know what happened to Una, insisted one of the many conflicting voices in her head.
But it worried Ryn to give them to her right before she was leaving for Christmas. Though Henrietta kept asserting that she was perfectly fine here alone—“as I have been for years, I might remind you,” she’d said pointedly—Ryn just didn’t feel right giving her such potentially traumatic news at this time of year. And no matter what Hank said, Ryn was pretty sure she shouldn’t be alone when she did finally see those letters.
She was winded by the time she got to Rayburn. No one else was there yet. She stomped as much snow off her boots as she could, but still left little clumps behind her in the corridor. In her office, she unwound her scarf and tugged off her hat and jacket. She hung them all on the pegs attached to the wall and sat to change into her shoes.
She had one boot off when a soft knock on the door startled her. She straightened up to find Tamara standing there.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” Tamara pointed out into the corridor. “Is it okay I’m here?”
“Sure. Come in.”
Tam stepped inside and pushed the door shut behind her.
“Is something wrong?” Meryn asked when Tamara couldn’t seem to meet her gaze.
“No.” But Tam’s usually pale cheeks had a high flush as if she had a fever.
Ryn stood and offered her a chair. “You look like you might fall over.”
Tamara shook her head. “It’s not… I needed to talk to you.”
“What about?”
When Tamara did look her in the eye, the intensity of what Ryn saw there nearly knocked her over instead.
“Oh.”
“I haven’t been able to sleep. I can’t concentrate in my classes.” Tam strangled her mittens.
Ryn thought she sounded as if she might cry. “Tam—”
But whatever she’d been about to say flew out of her head when Tamara stepped closer and kissed her. At first, the crush of lips was hard, almost frantic. Tam pulled away just a fraction, her eyes wide and frightened, but Ryn raised a hand to the back of her head and gently held her as they met a second time. This kiss was soft, warm, open. As it lingered, Ryn felt her body responding with sensations it hadn’t felt in a long time.
“I’ve been dreaming of doing that for weeks,” Tamara breathed.
Ryn smiled. “I’m glad it’s more than a dream now.”
Tamara giggled nervously and then clamped her hand over her mouth. “I have to get to my first class. See you later?”
Ryn nodded. “Later.”
Tamara fumbled for the doorknob. With a last smile and a little wave, she let herself out.
Ryn dropped into her chair. What the heck?
She remained in a fog through her morning lectures—she’d had to go back to the office to change out of her other boot. Half her mind was still on that kiss. She debated going to the chapel at noon, but she wasn’t ready to see Tam again just yet—not in front of Roberta and the others. With a start, she wondered what Sunday brunch would be like.
As she left the classroom and turned into the corridor, she collided with someone, almost knocking her down.
“Vanessa!” Ryn reached out to steady her. “I’m so sorry. How are you?”
Vanessa’s chin quivered. “I was looking for you…”
“What’s wrong?”
From around the corner came the sound of Geary’s grating voice. In an instant, Vanessa’s face went an ashen color.
“I can’t—”
She scurried away before Ryn could say anything. Ryn stood there, watching the door to the rear stairwell swing shut. When Geary rounded the corner and saw her, he stopped.
Ryn recognized the female professor he was talking to, someone from the English department. “Professors,” she said with a curt nod.
She had an idea about what had upset Vanessa, and she was willing to bet it had something to do with either that woman Geary was with or some other new fling. From what Vanessa had told her, she’d never been allowed to seriously date. Even her prom date had been the son of a friend of her mother’s. She’d most likely never been through a breakup. Ryn was sorry Vanessa was upset, but she’d get over Geary, the skunk. Ryn couldn’t help but be glad if Geary was out of Vanessa’s life.
Before she got back to her office, Vanessa had receded to the back corner of her mind. Front and center was Tamara and that kiss. That memory gave her the energy to bound up the stairs two at a time. Sunday is going to be interesting.
The brunch plans had the desired effect. Meryn seemed happier than she had been recently. She came home from the market with two bags loaded with extra eggs, bacon, three different kinds of bread, cheese, vegetables, syrup, as well as another can of coffee.
“I’ll make French toast and omelettes. We can fry up a mess of bacon and make regular toast. That way everyone can have something they like.”
Meryn accompanied her to church at St. Rita’s—where Genevieve and Jerry Talbert didn’t acknowledge them at all—and then started in right away when they got home, setting out stacks of plates and glasses and silverware.
When the young nuns arrived—“in our civvies,” Franny pointed out—they brought a platter of Christmas cookies in addition to three strudels.
This time, Henrietta was made to sit at the table and supervise while they all jumped in to chop vegetables for the omelettes, mix batter for the French toast, and get the bacon frying. The small kitchen was teeming with activity. Henrietta watched Meryn standing shoulder-to-shoulder at the stove with the pretty blonde one, Tamara, as they got two omelette pans going.
“Refill?” Franny poured more coffee into Henrietta’s cup.
“Thank you.” Henrietta sipped her coffee, puzzled by the mild stomach upset she was feeling. Briefly, she wondered if she was coming down with something.
Soon enough, they were all eating. The young ones laughed and talked while Henrietta mostly listened. Apparently, Franny and Roberta had taken their first vows two summers ago, and Stephanie was a year behind. Tamara, if she entered the order this summer, would be a postulant for the next year.
“And probably will transfer to SUNY Buffalo, to be near the motherhouse,” Roberta said.
Henrietta saw a fleeting frown pass over Meryn’s face and felt again that sour sensation in her stomach.
“Not hungry?” Stephanie asked, noticing that Henrietta had hardly eaten.
“This is just more food than I’m accustomed to.” Henrietta tried to eat more of her omelette.
After the plates were cleared, Roberta declared she needed to let the food settle before tackling Granny Messner’s strudel.
“Would you mind giving us a tour of your studio?” she asked.
Henrietta agreed, leading the way back. The young women were impressed by the work displayed there.
“Did you study with someone?” Steph asked, leaning closer to inspect one of the still lifes propped on the counter.
“One of my tutors was an artist, and he taught me some technique,” Henrietta said, “but mostly I’ve experimented on my own.”
“You need to check out the others in the living room,” Meryn said, looking at Henrietta warmly.
They stood at the studio windows, gazing down at the now-frozen pond and the snow-covered woods. Birds were flitting to and fro, picking at the feeders, landing on the ground to scavenge some of the seeds that had fallen, littering the snow.
Out in the living room, Franny spied the piano. “May I?”
“It hasn’t been played in a long time.” But Henrietta nodded her permission.
Franny lifted the lid off the keys, but the piano was so badly out of tune that it wasn’t really playable.
“Meryn could get her gui
tar,” Henrietta suggested.
The girl protested, but the others shouted her down. She disappeared into her room for a moment and reappeared with her guitar. Henrietta sat on the couch while they sang Christmas carols. Their voices, young and clear, rang out. Henrietta was suddenly reminded of Una and Christmases gathered around the piano as her mother played and they all sang.
“You’re really good,” Stephanie said. “We could use another guitar player.”
Meryn laughed. “I don’t think you want me.”
Roberta tilted her head. “Watch out. That’s what Tamara said when we met her.”
Henrietta saw the look that passed between Meryn and Tamara, but none of the others seemed to notice.
Meryn blushed furiously, lowering her head as she strummed her guitar. “I’m hungry again. How about some of that strudel?”
After another flurry of activity in the kitchen, with fresh coffee and tea, served with generous slices of strudel, the nuns insisted on helping to clean up and then said their farewells.
“Thanks so much for having us over, Henrietta,” said Franny. “Your home is beautiful. We can see why Ryn likes it here so much.”
With last waves, they said good-bye. When Meryn pushed the door shut at last, Henrietta felt exhausted.
“Hank, that was fun. Thanks a million.”
“No need to thank me. This is your home, too.” Henrietta turned toward her room. “I’m tired. I’m going to lie down a while.”
“You okay? Is there anything you need?”
“No. Just some quiet.”
Henrietta made her way back to her room and stretched out on the bed. She felt so odd, with these unfamiliar flutterings in her chest and stomach. She didn’t care what Dr. McCourt said. Something was wrong.
The last couple of weeks of classes flew by, and before Ryn knew it, it was mid-December and finals week. Remembering what a pain in the butt her essay questions on her first tests had been to grade, she kept these final exams simple and straightforward. There was a bank of old exams that Geary, being his lazy ass, had used. Beverly had shown them to her, but Ryn was determined to write her own tests.
Beverly had also whispered that the new women-and-history class already had twenty-five students registered for next semester. It gave Ryn grim satisfaction to know that Geary would flame and burn in front of a large class. At least she hoped he would. She doubted he was actually a good teacher, based on what little she’d seen.
She’d barely seen Talbert. He taught his two or three upper-level classes and stayed holed up in his office, presumably planning the décor for his new dean’s office.
It was embarrassing how much time her mind spent drifting to thoughts of Tamara. Ryn kept an eye out for her and thought about trying to find out her class schedule, but that felt creepy. Tam wasn’t technically her student, but she was still a student.
It was just a kiss, Ryn said, fighting an internal battle with herself, but she knew she wanted it to be more than a kiss.
That made this situation almost as fraught as Geary’s with Vanessa. Plus, there was the whole nun thing. She still wasn’t sure how that factored into everything. Was Tam changing her mind about entering? Was this maybe-relationship between them just curiosity? Ryn was confused, to say the least.
So, she resisted the temptation to actively seek Tamara out, but she kept hoping there would be another knock on her door.
When the knock came, it wasn’t Tamara. Ryn jumped up to see Vanessa standing there, dark circles under her eyes, glancing nervously up and down the corridor.
“I think Geary’s in another class,” Ryn said, pulling her into the office.
Vanessa nodded. “I know he is. I need to talk to you.”
She looked as if she might faint. Ryn guided her to a chair and lowered her into it.
“What’s wrong?”
Vanessa looked everywhere but at her.
“Vanessa?”
To Ryn’s horror, Vanessa burst into tears, covering her face with her hands. Her muffled words came in bursts, “I’m… I’m pregnant… got to… can you drive me…”
Ryn reached out and gently pulled Vanessa’s hands down. “Calm down and tell me.”
She kept hold of Vanessa’s hands and waited.
Tears streamed from Vanessa’s red and puffy eyes. “I’ve checked. There’s a clinic in Syracuse where I can… I have to get rid of it.”
She tugged one hand free and reached into her coat pocket to produce a dog-eared envelope. “He gave me money. Told me to take care of it.”
“What?” The word exploded from Ryn’s mouth.
Vanessa flinched. “Please don’t be angry with me.”
Ryn fought to control her voice. “I’m not angry with you. Tell me what happened.”
“When I… when I found out, I told him. He got mad, too. He told me to come back the next day, and he gave me this.” She held up the envelope. “He said I was stupid to let it happen, and I needed to take care of it.”
Ryn took the envelope from Vanessa. It contained two hundred dollars in twenties. She was so angry her hands were trembling.
“Will you? Take me?”
Ryn set the envelope on the desk and took a deep breath. “How far along are you?”
“Not far. Eight weeks, I think. I got worried when I missed my second period.”
“And are you sure you’re pregnant?” Ryn was completely out of her element here.
“I’ve been sick. Almost every morning. And… my body is changing. I’m sure.”
Ryn sank back in her chair, thinking hard. “Look, Vanessa, I’ll take you if that’s what you really want to do, but I want you to be absolutely sure.”
When Vanessa opened her mouth to argue, Ryn held up a hand. She leaned forward again to stare into Vanessa’s eyes, emphasizing each word as she said, “You cannot undo this. You have to be sure before you go through with it. Please, take this time over the semester break. Try to tell your parents.”
Vanessa shook her head violently, but Ryn said, “I don’t think they’ll be as angry as you think they will.”
“You don’t know my mother.” Vanessa reached for the envelope and shoved it back into her pocket. “Never mind. I’ll find another way.”
When she stood, Ryn grabbed her sleeve. “Wait. I didn’t say I wouldn’t take you.” She sighed. “Have you called the clinic? Do you have an appointment?”
Vanessa shook her head again. “I’ll call today. Can you take me next week? After finals?”
Ryn gave a resigned nod. Vanessa threw her arms around Ryn and held her tightly. “Thank you.”
She left the office, and Ryn dropped back into her chair. “Don’t thank me yet.”
Chapter 12
The cardinal flashed by, a brilliant crimson against the snow as he dove to snatch some sunflower seeds that had spilled. His mate clung to the suet cake swinging from a tree branch. Meryn had refilled the feeders and hung out fresh suet before she left. This pair had become regulars at the feeders, eyeing her cheekily through the glass.
Henrietta sat in her studio with a pencil in her hand, but the tip remained poised over the paper, her eyes staring but not seeing the scene outside.
The girl had been gone for three days, and they felt like the longest three days Henrietta could remember since she’d been sick and stuck in that iron lung for months.
“I hate leaving you,” Meryn had said, her raggedy old duffel bag packed and sitting by the front door alongside her guitar case. “I wish you’d come with me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Henrietta had snapped. “I got by before you came here. I’ll be fine for a couple of weeks.”
But Meryn wasn’t put off by Henrietta’s bluster. The darned girl had actually smiled. She pointed toward the kitchen. “I made a fresh batch of Phyllis’s chicken salad for sandwiches, and I know you placed an order with the club. Bonnie said to call her if you need anything.”
Henrietta had waved her off. “Get going. You’ve got
a long trip ahead of you.”
Meryn had reached for her bag. “I’ll practice the lessons in the drawing book you gave me for Christmas.”
“If you can’t draw, you can’t paint.”
Still, Meryn had paused in the driveway before getting in her car, staring back at Henrietta with troubled eyes.
Something was worrying that girl. The brunch had cheered her up for a while, but she’d been brooding again the last few days. Henrietta caught her several times, watching her. Sometimes, she looked as if she wanted to say something, but she always changed her mind. And there was that whole mysterious trip to Syracuse. She’d told Henrietta she’d be gone for the day, but wouldn’t say why she was going.
Henrietta gave up sketching. She set her things down and reached for her crutches. Nights had been hard—just as you knew they would be. It wasn’t just that she was here alone. Meryn had filled this house with more life than it had ever known. As grateful as she’d been to her father for building it for her, it had never been a home brimming with happiness—not like things had been before the polio.
And just last night…
Henrietta made herself a chicken salad sandwich and transferred it to the table. As she ate, the memory of that dream came to her, so strong and clear. Meryn and Una—except this was a grown-up Una, more beautiful than she had been, her red hair spilling over her shoulders—walking arm in arm, holding their hands out to her…
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Henrietta finished her lunch and went out to the sofa. The golf course was empty. No new snow had fallen, so there were patches of brown grass visible where the last snow had melted. She reached for one of the three books Meryn had given her for Christmas—The Frontiersmen by Allan W. Eckart.
“Promise me you’ll read these,” Meryn had said. “One of my favorite teachers gave this trilogy to me when I was fourteen. They helped spark my love of history. I’d love to discuss these with you.”
The way her eyes lit up, the earnestness in her voice when she spoke—Meryn could hold a class enthralled, Henrietta was certain of it. She holds me enthralled.
The thought came so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that Henrietta nearly dropped the book. And she knew.
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