by Karen Kirst
“Why can’t you just have it here?”
Her musical laugh rang out once again. “Here?” She glanced at the house. “It’s much too small.”
Warning bells rang. Loudly. “Just how many people do you plan on inviting? Alex’s only close friend is Frankie. Marcie pals around with Norma’s eldest daughter, Olivia, and two other schoolgirls, and little Dot plays with Norma’s younger daughter, Yvonne. Those children and their families could fit in the parlor.”
Lavinia stared at him with the look of a schoolmarm attempting to explain something to an unperceptive pupil. “I thought Pauline told you about our parties.”
“She did. They were some of her most treasured memories.”
“I can understand that. They’re grand events. It would appear she didn’t make it clear how many people attend them, though. Our friends come, of course, but Father also invites everyone who works at the Crowne Jewel and their families, as well as our household servants. He hires staff to fill their positions for the evening.”
The size of the guest list came as a surprise. That would be at least three-hundred people. And based on hearsay gathered from the employees Henry had met during the construction of Crowne’s Philadelphia hotel, the hotelier wasn’t known for his generosity. “That’s kind of him. You must have a large parlor.”
She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Oh, we don’t use the parlor. Father had a ballroom added to the house, and we hold the party there. That’s why I needed to find a place big enough for the one I’m planning.”
“Who all will be coming? You still haven’t said.”
Lavinia fisted her right hand and extended a different finger for each group she named. “All the schoolchildren and their families, the members of the congregation, Norma and her family, Gladys and, of course—” she raised her thumb and sent him a winsome smile “—you.”
“That’s quite a gathering. I can see why you’re planning to rent the hall, but Benedict can be a hard man to track down.” He’d tried to locate the owner himself after receiving word of Jack and Pauline’s tragic accident—to no avail. If he could buy the building, he could turn it into a hotel, hire a manager and earn the money needed to support the children. And still have plenty of time to spend with them.
“It took some doing, but I found out who’s serving as his agent.”
“How?”
She patted her curls. “A lady can find out all manner of things if she sets her mind to it.”
He chuckled. “You don’t strike me as the type of woman who would resort to using feminine wiles to get what she wants.”
His jest earned him a saucy smile. “Even though we’ve only known each other a short time, you presume to know me quite well.”
Not as well as he would like. “I know you’re determined and won’t let anything keep you from getting what you want.” She could throw her party, but that wouldn’t change anything. “Did Benedict agree to rent you the hall?”
“Mr. Price said he’s expecting Mr. Benedict’s answer soon. He’s considering my offer, but I’m certain he’ll take it.”
So the well-established lawyer in town was the one serving as his agent. “For your sake, I hope he does.” Henry had his doubts. When it came to shrewd businessmen, Benedict’s reputation would put him at the top of the list, right up there with Lavinia’s father. Come to think of it, since she’d dealt with Paul Crowne all her life, she could have what it took to broker a deal with Benedict after all.
Not that Henry was worried about that. What did concern him was how much he was drawn to the lovely Lavinia Crowne. Nothing could come of it, though, so he would keep his attraction in check.
Or try to.
* * *
The rhythmic creaking of Norma’s chair as she rocked her baby boy the following Saturday added to the peaceful atmosphere in the cheery bedroom. The muted voices of the five older children seated around the table in the kitchen down the hall assured Lavinia that they were having a good time making miniature wreaths. She’d given them the bits of pine boughs left after the decorating she’d done earlier that day.
Little Dot was relishing the time with Norma’s youngest daughter, Yvonne, her favorite playmate. Marcie was captivated by the simple handicraft, as was her friend, Olivia. Alex, cautious boy that he was, had volunteered to cut the twine the girls were using to form their wreaths, or Lavinia wouldn’t have left the children unattended. Thanks to his offer, she could enjoy a few minutes with the woman who’d been Pauline’s dearest friend.
Norma glanced out the window, which faced the west side of Jack and Pauline’s house. “I like the way you’ve wound the pine boughs around the front porch railing. The bright red bows you added are a nice touch. I’m curious why you’ve started decorating so soon, though. It’s only the eighth of December. Even Pauline, whose love of Christmas surpassed that of anyone I’ve ever known, gave way to convention to a degree and waited until the week before. We don’t do our decorating until Christmas Eve.”
Gladys had asked the same question, so Lavinia had a ready answer. “Pauline said that an event as special as the birth of our Savior deserves more than a brief celebration. I think others feel the same. The merchants already have Christmas wares in their windows, and people love to stop and admire them. Since the children are grieving, I decided not to wait this year. They seem happy about that, and their happiness is my primary concern.”
“They’re having a wonderful time making their own decorations. I’m just used to the way things have always been done. Pauline used to tease me about my unwillingness to break with tradition. She didn’t let others’ expectations stop her from doing what she wanted, though. That independent streak was one of the many things I admired about her.”
“I did, too.” Pauline’s willingness to take a stand had served her sister well, especially when it came to dealing with their father. She hadn’t been afraid to stand up to him. The row she’d had with their father after she announced that she was marrying Jack Hawthorn and would be heading to California had been heated and loud.
Although her sister could endure their father’s tirades without flinching—and had on numerous occasions—Lavinia dreaded such confrontations and avoided them whenever possible. The losses she suffered from those arguments tended to outweigh any gains. Paul Crowne wasn’t a man one cared to cross. She preferred to appease him to keep the peace.
To do that, she must contest Jack’s will, be instated as the new guardian and take the children to Philadelphia with her as her father expected. Many times, his wishes ran contrary to hers, but in this case, she and her father were in agreement.
She should be hearing from Mr. Benedict’s lawyer regarding the building rental soon. When she did, she’d ask Mr. Price if he would take her case.
Norma rubbed her droopy-eyed baby’s back. “It’s nice that you take after Pauline that way.”
“Me? Really?” As much as Lavinia wished she had some of Pauline’s fortitude, she was lacking in that regard.
“You do what you think is right, no matter what others might say. Take your clothing for instance. You’re not in mourning garb because you know wearing the dark, dreary colors makes Dot sad. Standing up for what you believe is right takes courage, and I admire your willingness to do so.”
Words eluded Lavinia. She didn’t regard herself as brave. She was just doing what was best for the children.
Norma didn’t seem to expect a response. Instead, she smiled at the precious infant in her arms, who was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. “Bobby will be nodding off soon. Would you like to rock him to sleep?”
“Certainly.” Lavinia took the precious boy, cradled him to her chest and crooned the French lullaby her mother had sung to her when she was young, “Au Clair de la Lune.” She breathed in the baby’s sweet scent as she sang.
By the time she finished
the memory-laden tune, Bobby had succumbed to sleep. Norma motioned for Lavinia to lay the little fellow in his cradle. She managed to get him into it without waking him. A series of S-shaped curlicues formed the sides of the wrought iron creation. She admired the handiwork for a moment and then tiptoed across the room.
Norma followed her out and stood in the doorway, gazing at her sleeping son.
“The cradle is lovely,” Lavinia whispered. “Did Henry make it?”
“Yes, not long after he got to California, right after Alex was born. Pauline and I passed it back and forth, as needed.”
“He’s quite talented, and in so many areas.” He’d volunteered to help in numerous ways the past week. She should have declined his offers, but when he accompanied one with his engaging smile, she had a hard time refusing. “I can’t help but be impressed.”
Norma raised an eyebrow. “Even smitten, perhaps?”
“Oh, no!” Lavinia nearly shouted and then lowered her voice to a whisper once more. “Forgive me for my outburst, but you’re mistaken. There’s nothing between Henry and me—other than wanting to do what’s best for the children, of course.”
Norma chuckled. “Perhaps, but I sense more to it than that.” Thankfully, she let the matter drop and continued at a normal volume. “And don’t worry about the noise. A third baby must get used to sleeping through a certain amount of it. Bobby’s sisters see to it that it’s rarely quiet around here. Olivia especially. That girl has plenty to say. She gives Marcie some serious competition.”
“Marcie takes after Pauline. My sister could talk the bark off a tree, as our grandfather used to say.”
Norma’s voice took on a wistful tone. “That was another thing I loved about her. An ordinary day became fun-filled when she was around, adding her spark to it. No one could embellish a story the way she could, and her ready laugh was contagious. Life won’t be the same without her.” She heaved an audible sigh, left the door to Bobby’s room ajar and headed toward the kitchen. “Let’s see what the other children have been up to, shall we?”
Lavinia could empathize. The thought of never seeing her beloved sister again was almost too much to bear. The ten years they’d been apart was hard enough. During that time, she’d been holding out hope that the rumors her father had heard about “Crazy Judah” were true. The well-educated engineer, Theodore Judah, was a visionary with a plan to build a railroad that would connect the East with the West. When it was built, a person would be able to travel across the country in a week’s time. She’d envisioned making a quick trip to California to visit her sister while her father was off touring his other hotels and dealing with his anger after the fact. But Pauline had gone to her heavenly home before that could happen.
The moment Norma and Lavinia entered the kitchen, the girls held up their creations and began talking at once.
Norma sent them a good-natured smile. “It appears you’re all having fun, but I can only listen to one of you at a time. Alex, why don’t you start?”
Marcie was quick to protest. “How come he gets to go first? He’s not even making a wreath.”
Lavinia was ready to respond, but Norma beat her to it. “Because he’s the oldest and offered to help the rest of you. So how did things go, Alex?”
“Good, but the girls want to know if you have some ribbon. They want to tie bows on their wreaths the way Aunt Livy did on the porch railings.”
“Hmm. Let me think.” Norma tapped her chin, stared at the ceiling for a moment and snapped her fingers. “I just remembered where it is. I’ll go get it.”
Marcie tugged on Lavinia’s sleeve. “Look at my wreath, Aunt Livy. Isn’t it pretty?”
“It’s very nice. You did a fine job.” Marcie must have kept Alex busy cutting pieces of string to keep the many lengthy boughs in a circle.
“Mine’s the biggest.” Marcie flicked her curls out of her face and beamed.
Dot turned toward her sister, her pretty face pinched. “That’s ’cause you took all the long pieces.”
“It’s a nice size, Marcie, and will be just the thing to hang on the front door.” Lavinia picked up Dot’s creation and examined it. “I like yours, too. It will look lovely in that little window beside the door. Alex is right, though. Some ribbon would add a nice bit of color to your wreaths.” She walked around the table to where Norma’s three-and five-year-old girls sat and admired their work.
A knock at the front door sent Norma scurrying from the back room to the entryway. She returned moments later with Henry. “Look who wants to join the fun.”
“Uncle Henry!” Dot ran into his open arms. He picked her up. “Look at the reefs we made.”
Marcie scoffed. “They aren’t reefs. They’re wreaths.”
“That they are, and pretty ones, too.” Henry set Dot down and went around the table, admiring each girl’s handiwork in turn, coming to a stop by Lavinia. “I have a hunch it was your aunt’s idea to make them. Seems she’s eager for Christmas. The house—” he inclined his head toward it “—looks quite festive.”
Olivia, Norma’s outgoing daughter, joined the conversation. “You’re right. It was Miss Livy. She brung over all the extra pieces from the branches, but she run out of ribbon. Mama went to get us some.”
“I found a few pieces in my scrap bag.” Norma held out a handful of ribbon, most of it white with a few pastel shades. “None are very long, but you’re welcome to them.”
Olivia raised herself up on her knees, rested a hand on the table and rifled through the pile. “These are boring. I want red like Miss Livy used.” She turned to Lavinia. “Can you give us some?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid there isn’t any left.” Pauline’s sewing basket had yielded a nice supply, but Lavinia had used everything she’d found. She’d asked Gladys to pick up some more while she was doing the shopping.
“Perhaps this will help.” Henry reached into his jacket pocket and produced three spools of ribbon—red, green and a red-and-green plaid.
Lavinia stared at the selection and shook her head. “How did you know what we needed?”
He sent her one of his charming smiles that she was fast finding irresistible. “I have my ways.”
She picked up the spools and handed them to Alex. “Would you please cut off pieces for the girls? And Norma, could I ask you to help them tie their bows?”
Her new friend nodded. “Certainly.”
Taking Henry by the arm, Lavinia tugged him to the side and spoke in hushed tones. “So tell me. How did you know we could use some ribbon?”
His lips twitched, as though he was keeping laughter at bay. “You’re a curious one, aren’t you?”
“And you—” she gave him a playful poke in the chest “—are an exasperating one. You will tell me, won’t you?”
The room had grown quiet. She turned to find six pairs of eyes fixed on her and Henry. Norma’s telling smile brought back her comment from earlier, but it was the eagerness in Alex’s eyes that drew Lavinia up short. Did the dear boy think she and Henry…? She dropped her hand to her side with haste. “Everything’s fine. You can get back to work.”
The four girls returned to their wreath-making, but Alex leaned close to Marcie, who was seated beside him.
Henry cleared his throat, drawing Lavinia’s attention back to him. “If you must know, I ran into Gladys at the grocer’s. The subject of your decorations came up, and she mentioned you’d used all the ribbon you had. I figured you could use more.”
“That was thoughtful of you. You surprised us all.”
He rubbed his strong jaw. “I have two more surprises. The first is that Mr. Price asked me to tell you that he’d like to see you Monday afternoon about the rental of the building.”
She smiled. “Wonderful. He must have heard from Mr. Benedict. And the second?”
“Y
ou mentioned that Gladys takes her time on the shopping trips. I don’t think it’s due to her rheumatism as much as it is a certain grocer. I caught the two of them talking and got the feeling there was more to the conversation than what was on her shopping list.”
Lavinia shook her head. “I doubt that. Gladys is a practical person. She was probably just asking his opinion or something like—”
A squeal from Marcie turned Lavinia’s head. The expressive girl was grinning at Alex. “Yes! Do it.”
“Do what?” Henry asked.
Marcie spun around wearing a gleeful grin. “Alex is tired of helping us. He wants to go play in our backyard, but he wasn’t sure you’d let him. Please say he can. We don’t need a boy around anymore since you and Aunt Livy are here to help us.”
Henry chuckled. “I understand that, Buddy. A fellow can only take so much time with a gaggle of giggly girls. Go have yourself some fun.”
Dot looked up, a frown on her pink-cheeked face. “We aren’t giggling, Uncle Henry. We’re making re—re—” she glanced at her sister “—these.” She held up her wreath.
“And those wreaths are looking mighty nice, Dimples. I like all the ribbons on yours.”
Dot beamed. Alex jumped up, grabbed his jacket from a peg in the entryway and flew out of the house.
Lavinia looked at the back door he’d closed with a bang. “How odd. He’s usually happy to help. Oh, well.” She smiled at the circle of girls around the table. “There are plenty of grown-ups to help you.”
The next twenty minutes flew by as Lavinia snipped ribbon, tied bows and complimented the girls on their creations. Everything went smoothly until the end, when they were cleaning up and she reached for the scissors at the same time Henry did. His hand ended up on top of hers. She pulled hers away quickly, but the girls had witnessed the collision. Marcie laughed, which set the other girls off. Before long, they really were giggling.
The instant the table was cleared, Lavinia, cheeks still warm, urged her nieces to gather their wreaths, thank Norma for her hospitality and don their coats as quickly as possible. A chorus of goodbyes followed.