The Scholar

Home > Other > The Scholar > Page 2
The Scholar Page 2

by Tess Thompson


  I set my satchel down to take her hands. “Hello, Fi.” Her hair curled at the nape of her delicate neck. She made me think of a newly budded pink rose. “What’s happened to you? You’re all grown up.”

  “Not so much,” Fiona said, smiling. “I’m still your baby sister in here.” She tapped her chest before taking my hand to lead me over to the rest of my family.

  “Theo, welcome home,” Papa said with a voice thick with emotion. He held out his hand for me to shake.

  “Thanks, Papa.” Tears threatened to break through my natural reserve. I turned to my mother.

  “I’m so very happy to see you.” Mama embraced me.

  “I’m sure Lizzie can fatten me up in a few weeks,” I said.

  Josephine, cradling her infant, held out her cheek for me to kiss. I did so before pulling back the blanket to see my niece, Poppy. She was too young to see who she resembled or even to open her eyes to greet me. “She’s precious, Jo.”

  “We think so,” Josephine said with a glance up at her husband, Phillip.

  I shook Phillip’s hand and knelt to say hello to little Quinn, who promptly hid herself behind her father.

  “Quinn looks like her namesake,” I said. Although that was impossible, as they shared no blood. Still, odder things had come about in our family.

  “Isn’t it strange?” Josephine asked as she and Mama exchanged a smile. “As sweet as her, too.”

  My little sisters approached next. Addie reminded me very much of Josephine. They were both blonde and slight, although Addie was quieter and frailer than Jo had been at that age. Jo had been a little mother to all of us after our mother died and before Mama Quinn came to us. She’d had to grow up too fast.

  “Hi, Theo,” Addie said shyly. “I made you this.” She thrust a card with a pressed orange poppy into my hand.

  “Thank you.” I knelt on the platform to get a better look at her.

  “Are poppies still your favorite?” Addie’s blue eyes were the same color as the sky above us and had this way of unsettling me with their purity.

  “They are. This is very pretty. You did a wonderful job.”

  “I thought you might’ve changed.” Addie’s bottom lip trembled. “Or forgotten me.”

  I brushed her soft cheek with my thumb. “I could never forget you.”

  “What about me? Did you forget me?” Delphia, her little body tense as if waiting for a fight, watched me with narrowed eyes.

  “Hmm…what’s your name again? You look vaguely familiar.”

  Delphia stomped her boot. “You’re lying. You remember me.”

  I laughed and picked her up and swirled her in a circle. “Don’t be a goose. Of course I remember my baby sister.”

  She laughed and hugged my neck with all the strength in her thin arms. “I knew it.”

  I set her down. “In fact, I want you to tell me everything about everything.”

  “All right. But not now. Mama said I’m not to dominate the conversation at lunch.”

  “Maybe later you, Addie, and I can go out to the meadow and pick some flowers for the table and we can talk all about everything then.”

  Delphia grinned and lifted her chin defiantly. “Yes. But I’ll do most of the talking. That’s how it is with Addie and me.”

  “I remember,” I said, winking at Addie.

  “Let’s get you home and settled,” Mama said. “Lizzie’s prepared a feast for lunch.”

  “Fried chicken.” Delphia took my hand. “And strawberry ice cream for dessert.”

  My mouth watered. “I can’t wait.”

  Just like that, I was back in the thick of the Barnes family.

  When we arrived, Jasper greeted us at the door as he always had. He and his wife, Lizzie, who ran our kitchen, had come with Papa from England years and years before. When Papa had decided to give up his lord title as firstborn son and come to America, Jasper had insisted on accompanying him.

  “Theo, welcome home,” Jasper said. His British accent was as strong as it had ever been. I could not decide if he clung to his English ways out of spite or habit. “We have you in the guest room upstairs.”

  “Fiona and Cymbeline share your old room now,” Mama said.

  I followed Jasper upstairs to clean up and get unpacked. “Your mother had some new suits made for you.” Jasper went to the wardrobe and opened both the doors. “Nonetheless, there should be sufficient room for whatever’s in your luggage.”

  Several new suit jackets and trousers were hung in a row along with crisp shirts.

  “They’re made of fine material. Mr. Olofsson used his best.” Jasper nodded with obvious approval. “I made sure.”

  “Thank you.” I turned away from the wardrobe to get a better look at him. He was as formal and tidy as always in his black suit with its vest and tie. “How’s Lizzie?”

  “She’s well and would like to see you as soon as you’re able.”

  “And Florence?” Their daughter was around the same age as Addie with a cheerful, outgoing personality like her mother.

  At the sound of his daughter’s name, a slight smile lifted the corners of Jasper’s mouth, but only for an instant. “Florence is a little too American for my taste, but she’s a fine girl.” He returned to the business at hand, never one to deviate too far from his duties. “The water closet is ready for you if you’d like to freshen up.” He gestured toward the adjoining bathroom. “Dinner is at seven. They no longer dress for it in the summer, as they eat outside on the porch.” He imitated an American accent with the word porch. “Which has a screen around the perimeter.” He sniffed. I wasn’t sure why a screen was particularly offensive, but I didn’t ask.

  “Your brother-in-law built this back porch specifically for outdoor eating,” Jasper said. “Lord Barnes is quite taken with the idea and insists that everyone remain in their day clothes.”

  I nodded, fighting the urge to laugh. “He’s gone rogue on us, Jasper.”

  “Yes, but what can you expect?”

  I wasn’t entirely sure of the meaning of that question, so I simply thanked him. “I’ll be down shortly. I’m looking forward to one of Lizzie and Mrs. Wu’s wonderful meals.”

  “Very good, Dr. Barnes.”

  The pride in his voice made me smile. Being home was indeed very good.

  After he left, I looked around the room, which hadn’t changed much since I’d last seen it. Lilies in a vase on the dresser gave off a lovely scent, one I remembered well from my childhood. Walnut furniture, a yellow-and-red braided rug, and the easy chair by the window were familiar and comforting to me. I’d lived lean during my university years, renting a room close to campus and eating meals at the cafeteria or the neighborhood diner. Because of the vigor with which I’d approached my schooling, I’d done little else but study.

  I hung my few items of clothing in the wardrobe and placed the rest in the dresser. I bathed and shaved, happy to wash away the grime of my travels. I’d just finished dressing, having chosen a light blue linen suit, when there was a knock on the door. “Theo, it’s Fiona and Cymbeline. Are you available for a visit?”

  “Yes, yes, come in,” I called out to them.

  They came into the room, bringing the scent of their rosewater perfume, and sat on the end of my bed. Like two pretty bookends, they wore white dresses with dropped waists and had their hair pulled back in a way that made it seem as if they had cut their hair like so many of the girls did now. I was happy to see they’d kept their long tresses.

  “You’re actually here,” Cymbeline said. “I thought you might never come home.”

  “Why would you think such a thing?” I sat in the armchair. “I’d never planned on staying away forever.”

  Cymbeline lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. “I don’t know. We thought you might meet a lady and not want to leave her.”

  “Did you meet any ladies?” Fiona asked.

  “No, I was too busy for that,” I said.

  “Thank goodness,” Fiona said. “We
wouldn’t have liked you to choose someone without all of us having a good look at her first.”

  I laughed. “Pity the poor woman who has to face all of you.”

  “True enough.” Cymbeline rolled her eyes. “No one in this family can stay out of anyone else’s business.”

  “But we’re lucky to have one another.” Fiona smiled sweetly. “Cym likes to pretend she doesn’t need us, but it’s not true.”

  Cymbeline shot me a sassy grin. “Fiona always sees the good in people, even me.”

  “You are good,” Fiona said. “Having opinions and wishing certain things about this world were different doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.”

  “Do you see what I mean, Theo?” Cymbeline asked. “Fiona’s the good one.”

  “She is pure of heart,” I said. “And we love you for it, Fiona.”

  Fiona beamed at us. “I love you both very much too. I’m glad we’re all back together.”

  “Have you seen any of the old gang from school? I’ve exchanged a few letters with Isak, of course, but he’s not the best correspondent.”

  Isak, Flynn, and I had all served together during the war. Like Flynn, he’d started a business upon his return to Emerson Pass. I hadn’t anticipated that he’d open a bakery. “I had no idea Isak wanted to be a baker.”

  “He makes the most delicious breads and pies,” Fiona said. “Even Lizzie says so.”

  “Is he courting anyone?” I asked. “I thought he’d be married by now.” Isak and his brother, Viktor, resembled Vikings from the storybooks we’d read as children—tall, wide-shouldered, and blond hair that looked red in certain light. If anyone wanted to make either of them mad, all you had to do was mention that their hair was red. Regardless of what they thought about their hair, they were popular with the young ladies.

  “Not that we know of,” Fiona said.

  “How’s Viktor?” I asked, cautiously. Viktor was a sore subject with Cymbeline. His adoration of my sister seemed to agitate her instead of the desired effect. He’d been enamored with her since we were young.

  “He’s back in town,” Cymbeline said. “Not that I care.”

  “He’s returned home with a degree in mathematics,” Fiona said. “He’s working at the bank.”

  “Ah, yes, I think Isak mentioned that.”

  “Mama’s terribly proud of him,” Fiona said.

  “They gave him the money for college,” Cymbeline said. “Mama said he was always clever and should go to school if he wanted.”

  “They’re thankful to him for saving Jo, you know,” Fiona said.

  “I do know,” I said. Our family would be forever in Viktor’s debt for saving Josephine from sure death when she’d been taken by a bad man.

  “Now he’s a banker.” Fiona wriggled her eyebrows at her sister. “Very fancy. Right, Cymbeline?”

  “I told you I couldn’t care less,” Cymbeline said. “And wouldn’t you know, Theo, the big oaf still thinks he’s in love with me.”

  I didn’t think there was much thinking involved. He knew for sure how he felt about her. He’d wanted my sister for as long as I could recall. She, however, detested him, mostly because she’d thought of him as competition during her school days. He was athletic and smart. In addition, and possibly the worst offense, he was a boy, which meant he had all the opportunities she wished she had.

  “What else is happening in town?” I asked.

  “There’s trouble brewing at the church,” Fiona said. “A few horrible ladies who are on the church board don’t like Pastor Lind.”

  “We heard from a friend that there’s a group who want him out,” Cymbeline said. “Even Papa’s worried.”

  “Can’t he help?” My skin prickled at the sound of the name Lind. I’d once thought I was in love with Louisa Lind. I’d embarrassed myself when I’d asked her if she’d write to me when I was away at the war. Unfortunately, it was Flynn she wished she could write. We’d only been sixteen when we lied our way into the army. I told myself I’d been young and stupid back then. I’d had no earthly idea how to tell that a girl loved my twin brother instead of me.

  “No, the church has its own board, which includes awful Mrs. Poe,” Fiona said. “She doesn’t like Pastor Lind. I don’t understand why.”

  “It’s because she’s a bluenose,” Cymbeline said, sounding disgusted. “She thinks Pastor Lind is too casual and encouraging.”

  “She wants him to talk about hell more,” Fiona said. “But you know that’s not how Pastor Lind does things.”

  “How do you two know all this?” I asked.

  They exchanged a look. One I didn’t understand other than it told me however they’d come upon this information would not be shared with me.

  “We know people who know things,” Cymbeline said.

  “The Linds have no idea,” Fiona said. “They’re going to spring it on him.”

  “Wouldn’t that mean they’d have no place to live?” If I remembered correctly, the Linds’ home, right next to the church, was actually owned by the congregation. Papa, years ago, had sold it all to the church. How that worked exactly as far as the deed to the house went, I wasn’t sure. Even so, I had a bad feeling that would be the case.

  “But Pastor Lind’s been there since we were young,” I said. “They can’t just get rid of him, can they? What would it mean to his wife and daughter?”

  “Last Sunday, Pastor Lind looked awful, right, Fi?” Cymbeline asked. “Pale and kind of sickly.”

  “Yes. Mama noticed too.” Fiona’s cheeks flushed. “I think it’s that terrible woman causing all the trouble that’s making him sick. I can’t stand it when people are unkind.”

  “She’s been extremely vocal about her discontent,” Cymbeline said. “Horrible woman.”

  “How’s Louisa?” I asked, keeping my voice casual. “You don’t think she suspects? Doesn’t she run around with the same group of friends as you two?”

  My sisters exchanged a look. They knew of my ill-fated attempt with Louisa.

  “Don’t look like that,” I said. “I’m asking as an old friend of hers. I’d think her father being in trouble would bother her.”

  “She doesn’t socialize with the old crowd any longer,” Cymbeline said. “She’s gotten strange.”

  “Strange?” Louisa had been adopted by the Linds after her father had been killed in a shootout. She’d always been quiet. I suspected the first nine years of her life had been traumatizing but didn’t know the details.

  “All closed up,” Fiona said.

  “Pinched like—in the face.” Cymbeline scrunched her brows together. “Like she always has a lot on her mind.”

  “That’s a shame. Is she stepping out with anyone?” I was pleased with myself that I could ask the question and not care about the answer. My misplaced feelings for her were nothing but a boyhood infatuation. I’d hardly thought of her in the time I’d been away.

  “No.” Cymbeline shook her head. “She doesn’t do much but church duties and taking care of the Linds. They’re not young, after all.”

  I left it at that, not wanting to delve any further into the Linds when it was my sisters I was interested in hearing about. “What about you two? Do I need to chase any suitors away?”

  “Not a one,” Cymbeline said. “We like it that way.”

  “And why is that?” I asked.

  “Because we’re busy,” Fiona said. “Me with my music. Cymbeline helps Poppy with her veterinarian calls almost every day.”

  “Really? That’s great, Cym.” My middle sister had always loved animals. She loved being outside as well.

  “Papa says it keeps me out of trouble,” Cymbeline said. “Which apparently is important because of my attitude.”

  All three of us burst into laughter.

  ***

  The entire family had lunch on the newly built screened porch at the back of the house. Perhaps it was because I was home, but everything shone with a special luster. I couldn’t remember the lawn ever being
as green. Rhododendrons bloomed in bright pink and red at the edges of the fenced yard.

  Everyone talked at once between bites of Lizzie’s juicy fried chicken pieces.

  “Mama, can we be excused to play croquet?” Delphia asked.

  “Yes, but you have to let Quinn play too,” Mama said, gesturing toward my niece, who sat in her father’s lap. “Please be careful to keep her out of harm’s way.”

  “We will,” Fiona said before lifting Quinn into her arms. “Do you want to be my partner?”

  Quinn nodded and answered with a slight lisp. “Yeth, please.”

  “Are you coming?” Delphia asked Cymbeline.

  Cymbeline looked torn for a moment, but her love of sport won out over wanting to stay with the adults. “Why not?”

  Except for Josephine, all my sisters exited the porch and spilled out onto the lawn. If I were a painter, I would have wanted to capture the beauty of the girls in their light summer dresses.

  “Aren’t they something?” Papa asked me.

  “They are. I’ve missed you all more than I can say.” I exchanged a smile with Josephine.

  Talk turned to Josephine’s library and how they’d had to allocate money for more children’s books. “We’ve had quite the population growth,” Papa said. “There are a lot of new babies, not just here at our table.”

  “A large batch of christenings over the last few years,” Mama said.

  Flynn glanced at his pocket watch for the sixth time in as many minutes. “Flynn, do you need to be somewhere?” Papa asked, indulgently.

  “Are you worried about Shannon?” Mama asked.

  “A little,” Flynn said. “She was feeling pretty sick earlier.”

  “Go home,” Josephine said. “It’ll ease your mind.”

  “I hate to leave,” Flynn said. “But I should check on her. She wasn’t doing too well when I left.”

  “Do go,” I said. “We have plenty of days to visit now that I’m home.”

  Flynn stood, looking relieved. He clapped me on the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re home. I’ll see you soon.”

 

‹ Prev