The Highest of Hopes

by Susan Anne Mason

  Emma took the paper and rose, laughing through her tears. “Thank you, Mrs. C. You’re an angel. Do me a favor? Say a prayer for me.”

  “Already taken care of.”

  In a rather shabby hallway, Emma peered at the wrinkled piece of paper Mrs. C. had given her to ensure she had the right apartment, then knocked loudly on the door. Her heart beat an unnaturally fast rhythm in her chest, while her lungs seemed unable to take in a full breath.

  Please, Lord, let him be here. Please let him not have left for England yet.

  A shuffling noise sounded from within. “Just a minute.”

  Emma’s stomach swooped. Not Jonathan’s voice, but he could still be inside.

  The door opened. A groggy Reggie stood there, balancing on one crutch. “Emma.” His sandy brows rose and he rubbed a hand over his short hair. “This is a surprise. Come in.” He moved back and opened the door wider.

  Emma entered a sparsely furnished living room. The dull beige walls were bare, except for a warped mirror by the entrance. A rather lumpy-looking sofa occupied the middle of the room, along with an armchair and a scarred table that had seen better days. It appeared Reggie hadn’t lived here too long. Either that or he needed decorating help.

  “Sorry. I just woke up from a nap. Please sit down,” he said, gesturing to the sofa.

  “Thank you, but I won’t be staying long. I just . . .” She clasped her hands together, peering down the short hall. “Is Jonathan here by any chance?” Her lungs squeezed with expectancy. Would Jonathan hear her voice and come out to see her? What exactly was she going to say if he did?

  “Hello. How have you been? I love you.”

  But Reggie’s eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Emma. He left on a train to Halifax three days ago.”

  “Oh. I see.” The strength seemed to leave her legs. She sank onto the sofa and stared at the worn rug beneath her feet, dimly aware of Reggie hobbling away.

  Jonathan was gone. He’d left town before the rally and had no idea of the devastating revelations that had occurred or the way her life had fallen apart.

  But it was all her fault. She’d waited too long, her realization coming too late. Why, Lord? Why couldn’t I have figured this out sooner?

  Because she’d been so obsessed with earning Randall’s affection, she’d forfeited the one person who’d always been there for her—first as a friend, but then as so much more.

  No wonder his leaving to join the war had hurt so much. She must have loved Jonathan even then, but hadn’t let herself admit the truth, hiding instead behind her engagement to Danny. Danny had been the safe choice. She was fond of him, but not so consumed with love that the loss of him terrified her. That’s why she’d been so devastated when Jonathan had enlisted. But she’d been too afraid to let him see her heart, too afraid to acknowledge the depth of her feelings for him.

  Despite everything, he’d come with her all the way to Canada, and when he’d finally got up the courage to offer her his heart, she’d turned him down.

  Her chest grew tighter. What was wrong with her?

  “Here. Drink this.” Reggie handed her a glass of water, then lowered himself somewhat awkwardly to the armchair beside her.

  With trembling hands, she lifted the glass and drained its contents, then set it on the table in front of her. “I’ve been such a fool,” she said softly. “And now he’s gone.”

  Reggie let out a sigh. “I tried to get him to stay. Told him our university was just as good as Oxford, but he wouldn’t have it.” He scratched his head. “I think it was too painful for him here, to be so close to you and not be with you the way he wanted.”

  Emma closed her eyes until the wave of sorrow passed. She opened them and looked at Reggie, surprised to find no condemnation in his eyes, only compassion. “I was so busy chasing after my father that I didn’t see what was right in front of me all along.”

  A dull silence filled the room. Emma knew she should go but couldn’t quite make herself leave the one person who shared her connection to Jonathan. Who probably missed him as much as she did.

  After several seconds, Reggie leaned forward, elbows on his thighs. “You know, when we were in the hospital in France, Jon told me all about you. How you were the one thing that had kept him going through all the torment he’d experienced. And he vowed that as soon as he got home, he was going to tell you how he felt.”

  She blinked. “He never said a word. Not until just recently.”

  “Apparently when he arrived home, you were involved with ‘some rich bloke,’ as he put it.” Reggie smiled sadly. “Seems there was always something holding Jonathan back. Some reason to put your happiness ahead of his own.”

  “I’ve made such a muddle of everything,” she whispered. “What am I going to do now?”

  Reggie leaned back in his chair. “I guess you have a choice to make. You can stay here and keep hoping your father will change, or you can go after the man who truly loves you. Who would do anything for you.” He paused to give her a pointed look. “Even let you go.”

  Emma sniffed, determination returning to her spirit. “You’re right. It’s time I put Jonathan’s happiness first.” She walked over and bent to kiss Reggie’s cheek. “Thank you for being such a good friend to him.”

  “It wasn’t hard, believe me.” Reggie struggled to get to his feet. “Good luck, Emma. I hope it works out for you both.”

  She smiled. “Thank you, Reggie. And if it does, I’ll send you an invitation to the wedding.”

  CHAPTER 33

  Jonathan shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other as he made his way down the street toward home. He shrugged deeper into his jacket, trying to ignore the steady stream of rain that dripped off the brim of his hat. Having gotten used to the mostly sunny days in Toronto, he’d forgotten how much rain his homeland experienced.

  But it was the differences in the street around him that really caught his attention. How could so much have changed in the two months he’d been gone?

  His gut clenched. All traces of Felix Bartlett’s store had vanished, and in its place a sign reading Peter’s Apothecary was proudly displayed. The front window, which had once contained Felix’s prized clocks, now contained an antique mortar and pestle surrounded by an array of colored bottles.

  Did Emma know this was what the new owner had intended to do with the property? Not that Jonathan had anything against apothecaries. The shop would at least attract customers who might wander next door to order a new dress.

  Jonathan pulled his collar closer to his hat, yet the moisture still seeped down his neck. With a last look at the shop, he resolutely put Emma out of his mind. He hadn’t come back here to dwell on the past. He needed to see his aunt, and then tomorrow he’d go and register at Oxford.

  Focus on his future.

  Jonathan moved on to his aunt’s store, where an even more disturbing sight met his eyes. A red For Sale sign hung in her front window.

  Heat filled Jonathan’s chest and streaked up his neck. Why on earth would Aunt Trudy be selling her business? Hadn’t he left enough money to cover her expenses? Or had something else come up that she hadn’t told him about?

  He charged inside, causing the bell on the front door to swing wildly. The shop was empty and the shelves were almost bare, save for a few bolts of material. The mannequins still wore the same dresses he remembered from before he left.

  “Aunt Trudy?” he called, shaking the raindrops from his hat and coat. Since when did she leave the counter unattended?

  “Jonathan!” She came rushing out from the back room, clutching her shawl about her shoulders. “Is it really you?”

  Relief filtered through his system. For a moment, he’d feared something terrible had happened to her.

  “It’s me. Home at last.” Jonathan dropped his bag and swept her into a tight hug. He allowed himself a moment to experience the pure pleasure of being back with the woman who loved him more than anything. “I’ve missed you so much.”
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  “Not nearly as much as I missed you.” Her thin frame shook in his arms. She pulled back, swiping at the tears rolling down her face. “Let me look at you.” She held him at arm’s length, shaking her head. “You look tired. And thinner.”

  He shrugged. “Turns out I don’t make a very good sailor. Although the trip over was much worse. At least this time I was only sick for the first two days.”

  She raised a hand to his cheek, her light blue eyes searching his. “You’re not only physically sick, are you? You’re heartsick.” She let out a sigh. “So Emma really didn’t come back with you?”

  He sucked in a breath, her name like a punch to his gut. “She wanted to stay with her new family.” He ducked down to retrieve his bag and hoisted it onto his shoulder, avoiding the eyes that already saw too much. “Let me go wash up, and then you can tell me why you’re selling our home.”

  She covered her mouth, and tears welled up again. “I’m sorry, honey. I tried my best to keep everything running, but I’m afraid I’ve let you down.”

  “It’s not your fault.” He pulled her against him again and dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “Tonight I’ll get a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow we’ll come up with a plan.”

  “There’s nothing to be done, I’m afraid.” Her gaze fell away. “I owe a lot of money that I can’t repay.”

  “What happened at the bank? Did the manager call in the loan?”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it and patted his arm. “We don’t have to get into all the details your first few minutes home. Let’s go upstairs, and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea. I’m sure Canadian tea is nowhere near as good as ours.” She headed toward the back room. “And I made an apple pie this morning.”

  Jonathan chuckled. He’d get to the bottom of everything soon enough. For now, he’d let his aunt enjoy their reunion.

  The next day, Jonathan awoke before dawn, his system not sure what time zone he was in. He allowed himself a few moments to savor the comfort of his bed. Between the cot at Mrs. Chamberlain’s, Reggie’s lumpy sofa, and the cabin in the steerage section of the ship, he hadn’t had such luxury in a long time.

  He rose and dressed, thankful for the hot bath his aunt had prepared for him last night that had made him feel human again. Minutes later, he found Aunt Trudy in their small kitchen, frying eggs and bacon. The delicious aroma teased his senses, reminding him of Mrs. Teeter’s kitchen, which of course led to thoughts of Emma. Resolutely, he pushed the sharp pang away.

  His aunt turned and caught sight of him. “You’re up early. I thought you might lie in a while today.”

  “You know me. Always up with the birds.” He kissed her cheek and grabbed a chipped cup from the shelf. As usual, the large ceramic teapot was filled and hot. He poured himself a cup, then took his spot at the small table.

  “What’s on your schedule for your first day back?” She slid a plate of eggs in front of him.

  “I think I’ll get a haircut, then head over to the university.” He bit into a piece of bacon.

  Her spatula clattered to the floor, but Aunt Trudy hastily retrieved it. “The university? Isn’t it a bit early for that?”

  “Not really. I want to make sure everything is squared away for me to start classes.” First, he’d check in at the admissions office to confirm that his tuition was up to date, then perhaps wander about the grounds to get a sense for the layout of the buildings. Maybe he’d even find the bookstore and buy his first textbook. That thought buoyed his spirits considerably. “Speaking of which, did any mail come for me while I was gone?”

  “Yes. I put it all on the desk.” Aunt Trudy turned off the stove and came to sit across from him, a worried expression wrinkling her brow. “Jonathan. There’s something you need to know.”

  He swallowed a mouthful of eggs, unease rising in his chest. “What is it?”

  She picked up a napkin and smoothed it on her lap. “I wasn’t able to pay the next installment of your tuition.”

  Jonathan’s lungs seized. What did she mean? He’d left the money in a marked envelope for her to deliver on the date it was due, knowing he likely wouldn’t be back from Canada in time. She’d assured him it was no trouble to take it in for him, as she often went into the town of Oxford to shop.

  “What happened? Did you forget?” If business had been chaotic in the store, it would have been easy enough to forget the date.

  She shook her head, her gaze fused to the tablecloth. “I used the money to pay the interest on the bank loan,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I thought I’d have enough time to earn it back before your tuition was due.” She paused to release a shaky breath. “But then business went from bad to worse. Two of my best customers cancelled their orders. Two others deferred payment. This war has put everyone in a very cautious mood.”

  Jonathan inhaled slowly, attempting to ignore the clutch of panic. “How much of it did you use?”

  Moisture brimmed in her eyes. “More than half.”

  Half. Jonathan mentally calculated how much money he had left after his trip and what he remembered he had in his bank account after he’d paid for his overseas passage.

  “I’m so sorry, Jonathan.” She gripped his hand. “But as soon as I sell the shop, I’ll have more than enough to pay you back.”

  He zeroed in on her anxious face. “Don’t tell me you’re selling because of that.”

  “That’s one of the reasons. I owe too much money to keep going. I can’t even afford material anymore, and without fabric I can’t fill any orders.” She pushed up from her seat and moved to the sink. “I do have one person interested in buying the shop. He’s supposed to get in touch with the bank by tomorrow.”

  For a second, Jonathan put his own troubles aside. “What are you going to do if it sells? Where will you live?” At least he would have lodging on campus, if they still let him attend. Hopefully, once he explained the reason for the mix-up, he and the administrators could figure out a solution.

  “I’ve asked Rita if I can stay with her until I get my feet back under me.” Trudy scraped the drippings from the frying pan into the dustbin.

  “Rita?” Her distant cousin lived on the outskirts of London. “I thought you didn’t get along.”

  Trudy shrugged. “Can’t be picky under the circumstances. She has an extra room in her flat now that Gina’s married. It’ll do until I find a job.”

  This didn’t make sense. How could business at the shop deteriorate so quickly?

  Unless . . . it hadn’t.

  “You knew the situation was dire before I left, didn’t you?”

  She didn’t answer, continuing to scour the frying pan.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I didn’t want to hold you back. Then, after you told me Emma was staying in Canada, I thought you might end up staying with her. Even if you didn’t, you’d be moving out to attend school. I figured I could ride out the problems until then.” She brushed a lock of gray hair off her forehead. “If it hadn’t been for that horrible Mr. Martin at the bank, I might have been able to keep the shop going. But he wouldn’t extend my loan. Said money was tight all over the country and he couldn’t afford to be sentimental.”

  Jonathan pushed his half-eaten meal aside. He hoped the people at Oxford didn’t share that feeling or he could be in as much trouble as his aunt.

  After gathering the tuition envelope with the meager amount of cash inside, Jonathan put on his best tweed suit and combed his hair, which would have to stay slightly shaggy for a while longer. He left his room, then on a sudden whim, went back inside and picked up the book on his nightstand. He took out the tattered Oxford acceptance letter and tucked it in his jacket pocket, the familiar feel reinforcing his confidence. Then he descended the back stairs to the alley below, where he pulled his bicycle out from behind the shed and brushed the cobwebs off the seat. Tugging his cap more firmly over his eyes, he began the forty-minute bike ride into Oxford.

  Thankfully
, the rain from the day before had stopped, though he still had to avoid several large puddles along the way. Despite the bad news of the morning, Jonathan managed to focus on the greenery of the countryside as he pedaled. He breathed in the fresh smell of the dew-filled grass, the passing scent of roses, and the slight murky smell of the nearby river.

  It was wonderful to be home. Though Toronto was a beautiful city, nothing beat these familiar roads, these old stone walls, or the friendly greetings of neighbors as he passed by. Wheatley might not be everyone’s ideal place to live, but to him it would always be home.

  Once he got into Oxford proper, excitement mounted in his chest as he caught sight of the majestic university buildings. Soon, God willing, he’d be attending classes within these hallowed walls, living and breathing the same air as some of the greatest academic minds in the country. Smiling, he drove under the Bridge of Sighs, and when he reached the administrative offices, he parked his bicycle out front and made his way inside.

  A woman looked up as he reached the counter. “May I help you?”

  He put on his most charming smile. “I hope so. I’m here to pay a portion of my tuition.”

  The woman frowned. “Tuition was due several weeks ago.”

  “I realize that. However, I was overseas for two months and left the money with my aunt. Unfortunately, she fell on hard times while I was away and wasn’t able to come here to pay it as she intended. I’m here now to settle the matter.” He smiled again.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Jonathan Rowe.”

  “Wait here while I check the files.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate your help.” Jonathan fought the urge to pace the room. Lord, if you have a minute, please let these people understand my plight and find compassion for my situation. I can’t have come so close to my dream to lose it now.

  Five minutes later, the woman returned with a beige folder in her hands. “Mr. Rowe, I see that you paid the first installment back in May. I spoke to my boss, and he said that he will extend you a period of grace if you pay the required amount in full today.”