A sparkling glimmer suddenly appeared in Carmella’s eyes. “Oh, we’d be thrilled to help. We won’t just contribute. We can serve on the decorating committee, provide food, and, of course, attend the ball.”
Sidney, who was none too fond of lace-napkin teas or dances, glanced over. “What if I’m not up to dancing yet?”
“Don’t worry,” Carmella assured him. “You will be.”
By the time Olivia and the kids left to pick up Paul at the Wyattsville station house, Carmella could see herself becoming Olivia’s best friend and Sidney a benefactor to the children.
She sat beside Sidney and smiled. It was apparent that the Lord had not only forgiven her but also shown her how she was to atone for such rash judgment.
The Homecoming
It was ten-thirty when Olivia walked out of the Wyattsville station house with all three children. Paul was taller than she’d expected and, compared to Jubilee or Ethan Allen, a lot quieter. Jubilee had climbed atop Paul’s shoulders and sat there so comfortably, so snuggled close, it made Olivia think the girl had done this same thing for much of her short life. Even with the added weight on his shoulders Paul stood tall and straight. As he walked side by side with Ethan Allen, the two boys talked.
Olivia slowed her step so she could watch the trio. They walked as a family, close together, words passing from one to the other. At first it seemed as though an aura surrounded them, but when Olivia looked more closely she could see it was more than an aura. It was a love so palpable it generated the feeling of warmth, of contentment, of quiet family nights and wordless devotion.
They crossed the parking lot and climbed into the car, Paul and Jubilee in the back seat, Ethan Allen up front next to Olivia. For a short while Jubilee talked about the things she’d done and the people she’d met, but before they crossed Monroe Street her words slowed and her head dropped sleepily onto Paul’s chest. He lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. Without opening her eyes, she snuggled into him the way one might bury their head in a feather pillow.
Olivia watched in the rearview mirror and felt a stirring in her heart.
The arrival of Ethan Allen had changed her life. He had awakened in her a love greater than any she’d ever known, but with that love had come responsibilities, worry, and, at times, even fear. Everything had a price. The price of not loving was an empty and cold existence. It meant a lifetime of wordless evenings and nights where the chill of loneliness rattled through your bones. The price of loving was beyond measure. Olivia thought back on the night she lost Charlie, a night so horrible she could not even find a comparison. She wanted to tell herself that going forward no heartache could ever be as great as that one, but she knew better.
Ethan Allen was young, Jubilee even younger. If disaster befell one of them it, Olivia knew it would shatter her heart. Worrying over, caring for, and protecting one child was difficult enough; could she possibly do it for three? Stretched out in front of her, it seemed a Herculean task, a job too big for even the mightiest, and yet it was slowly settling into her mind.
She’d given thought to letting the boy go his own way. He seemed big, strong, and capable of taking care of himself. But that was outside. Inside he was simply a boy, a sixteen-year-old teenager. Too young to know the hardships life could thrust upon his shoulders. Perhaps if he had been surly or outspoken she may have found justification for not caring.
But he was none of those things. He was soft-spoken, gentle, and genuinely likeable. Jubilee obviously adored him, and Ethan Allen was giving him the type of admiration usually reserved for baseball players.
While Olivia would have welcomed the alternative, the truth was that watching them together was like seeing the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle slide into place. It completed the picture. She knew that whatever hardships lay in front of her, she could never separate the children.
When they arrived back at the Wyattsville Arms, Paul lifted his sister and carried her to the apartment. After Olivia turned back the covers, he gently laid her in the bed. She rustled around a bit but never woke.
Even though the hour was late, Olivia sat the boys at the kitchen table and served up tall glasses of milk and a plate piled high with the cookies she’d baked earlier. After Paul had eaten his fifth cookie, he lowered his eyes and said, “Hope you don’t mind me eatin’ up all these cookies—”
Before he finished, Olivia said, “Not at all, Paul, go right ahead. There’s plenty more where those came from.”
“I know it ain’t none too polite to make a pig of myself but, Missus Doyle, these is the best cookies I ever tasted.”
“Well, then,” Olivia said with a smile, “I’ll have to get busy and make another tray of them.” She poured each of the boys a second glass of milk, then turned to the sink and began washing the cookie tray she’d left earlier. Although her back was to the boys, she listened to their conversation.
“How come you call Grandma ‘Missus Doyle’?” Ethan Allen asked.
Paul awkwardly stumbled over his answer. “I been taught using a body’s proper name shows respect.”
“Yeah, but Grandma’s family. You ain’t supposed to call family same as other folks.”
After more than a year of correcting Ethan’s grammar, Olivia did it without thinking. “You’re not supposed to call family.”
Thinking the words were meant for him, Paul answered, “I’m not.”
Olivia laughed. “I didn’t mean you, Paul. Actually, I’d be real pleased if you’d call me Grandma, just as Ethan Allen and Jubilee do.”
“Really?” Paul answered.
“Yes, really.”
It was nearing midnight when they finally started off to bed. Olivia offered Paul her room, but he refused it. “I’ll be just fine here,” he said and stretched out on a sofa that was a foot shorter than his lanky body, his head propped up on the arm at one end and his feet dangling over the other end.
“That doesn’t look any too comfortable,” Olivia said, but by then Paul’s eyes were already closing. Seconds later he was sound asleep.
As she was pulling a blanket over Paul, Olivia noticed the peaceful look on his face. It suddenly seemed so obvious. He was a boy with no shame attached to him, a boy with a squeaky-clean conscience. Chances were that in all his years he had never even uttered an obscenity. How, she wondered, could they have suspected such a boy would commit a crime?
Olivia snapped off the light, went into her own room, and closed the door. It had been a long day, and she welcomed the thought of sleep. Tomorrow would dawn with a whole new set of problems, but tonight she would sleep. She slid a cotton nightgown over her head and climbed into bed.
After plumping the pillow as she always did, Olivia lowered her head onto it expecting to drift off in seconds. But for some odd reason the nightgown itched in places where it had never itched before. After fifteen minutes of moving one way and then the other, she decided it was the sewn-in label rubbing against her back. That was easy enough to fix. She got out of bed, pulled out the sewing basket, removed the label stitch by stitch, and then climbed back into bed.
Although the nightgown was now without a label, sleep was still impossible to come by. Olivia’s pillow had somehow developed a lump that poked her in the neck no matter which way she turned. She sat up and flipped the pillow on the opposite side. No better. She exchanged it for the one that was originally Charlie’s. Still no good; that one was way too firm.
“Hard as a rock,” she grumbled and switched them back again. After seven plumps and two more flips, the lump disappeared and Olivia curled into the pillow.
She wanted to sleep. She wanted to not think about moving, not think about leaving her friends, not think about the responsibility of three children, but such a thing was impossible. When she closed her eyes she saw the three of them standing at the top of a faraway mountain.
“Grandma,” they called with their arms stretched out. Olivia looked up and saw a black sky with an angry wind ripping pieces of t
he mountain loose.
“Come down from there!” she screamed. “Come down right now, before you get hurt.”
Instead of running from the danger, the children remained where they were, again calling her name. She heard the reedy sound of Jubilee’s voice, the husky sound of a boy not yet a man, and underneath those was the familiar cry of Ethan Allen. A bolt of lightning shot across the sky and slammed into the side of the mountain. The ground shook, and several large chunks of stone tumbled down.
The children huddled together as edges of the mountaintop began to crumble. Olivia started toward them running as fast as she could, but the faster she ran the steeper the mountain became. Her legs grew weak, and her lungs gasped for air.
“You’ll never make it,” a voice thundered, and a roar of laughter rolled across her ears.
Olivia turned and looked around. It was an old man, dressed head to toe in dark grey. “You’ll never make it,” he repeated and sounded another uproarious roll of laughter.
“I have to!” Olivia cried and started to run again.
“Run, run, run!” the voice cackled and pointed a bony finger at the face of the mountain.
Olivia looked up and saw what she hadn’t seen earlier. Carved into the mountain were the names and faces of suitors she’d walked away from. In the center of the mountain was an empty black hole. It was the lonely years, the years when she’d been afraid to trust, the years when she’d been afraid to love. “Noooooooooo!” Olivia screamed and bolted upright.
It took several seconds for her to realize she was sitting in her own bed. For several minutes her heart continued to race. She looked at her own fears and recognized them for what they were. Stones that had littered her pathway. Obstacles that had held her back from loving.
“Never again,” she vowed. “Never again.”
It was several hours before Olivia could again find sleep, and when she finally did silver threads of daylight had begun to crease the night sky. By then she had reached a decision. It was the only decision her heart would allow her to make.
Olivia
I’d like to tell you I’m not frightened, but the truth is I’m scared to death. It’s been almost two years, and I can still remember the ache of loneliness I felt after Charlie died. I came back here expecting to pick up the life I had before we got married. But such a thing is not possible. It never is. Life has only one direction and that’s forward. If you don’t move with it, you might as well go ahead and jump into the grave.
It’s hard to imagine that Olivia Westerly Doyle, a woman who avoided marriage because she couldn’t bear the thought of children, should one day end up responsible for three of them. I guess God looks past what you claim to want and gives you what you need.
Having Ethan Allen has brought me a great deal of joy, more than I ever dreamed possible. But having Ethan didn’t mean I had to move away from my friends. If you don’t think friends are important, just try doing without them. If it wasn’t for Clara and the others, I’d still be walking around this apartment like a dead person.
There’s a spot in my heart that wants to tell Anita, These kids belong to you, go ahead and take them. That would be an easy out. It’s an answer that satisfies my selfish soul but puts those two sweet children in a place that a blind man could see wouldn’t be good for them. I watched the way Anita looked at Jubilee, and it wasn’t something you’d expect from a loving aunt. If she feels that way about Jubilee, I can’t imagine how she’d react to having Paul as well. When I come face to face with the reality of measuring my own happiness up against their well-being, it’s a pitiful comparison.
I know the responsibility I’m taking on, but I’ve still got a good chunk of Charlie’s insurance money and if I’m prudent about spending, we’ll be okay. At least I think we’ll be okay. As for the part about leaving my friends, I’m not ready to think about that right now. I’ll do what I’ve got to do, and once it’s done then I can think about wallowing in my own sorrow.
Future Plans
The next morning as Olivia and the three children sat at the breakfast table, she told them of her plan.
“I’m pretty sure your Aunt Anita will agree to having you live with me,” she explained. “So once I get her okay, I’ll start looking for a larger place.”
“That’s real generous, Missus Doyle,” Paul said, “but I wasn’t really counting on living with Aunt Anita. I figure—”
Jubilee interrupted with a giggle. “You’re supposed to call her Grandma!”
Paul began again. “Okay, Missus Grandma—”
“Just Grandma,” Olivia cut in. “No missus.”
“Okay, Grandma. What I was trying to tell you is that I can care for Jubilee on my own. I’ll be getting a job and—”
“A full-time job?” Olivia exclaimed. “What about school?”
“I don’t figure on going back to school.”
“If he ain’t going,” Ethan Allen said, “I ain’t going either.”
Olivia grimaced. “There’s to be no more talk about not attending school. It is not a matter for discussion, and that’s that!” She turned to Paul and asked, “Have you already graduated high school?”
He shook his head sheepishly. “I fell behind and missed a few years.”
“Then there’s no question about it,” Olivia declared. “You’ve got to go back to school, because without an education—”
“I appreciate your kindness, but I’ve got responsibilities.”
She looked at the newcomer; he had the stature of a man but the face of a boy. At a time when lads his age were swinging at a baseball and chasing after pretty girls, Paul was stepping up to the plate ready to be both mother and father to Jubilee. It was unfair. It was something that should never be asked of a child. “Ah, yes, responsibilities,” Olivia murmured.
“I made a promise to Mama and Daddy—”
Olivia cut in. “I made a promise too. I promised Charlie I’d care for Ethan Allen.”
Paul nodded. “Then you can understand why I’ve gotta do this.”
Olivia said nothing for a few moments; she waited to let thoughts settle in and sprout new ideas. Finally she spoke. “I think there’s a way we can both fulfill our responsibilities if you’re willing to listen.”
Paul looked across and gave a slight nod.
“My taking care of Ethan Allen and your taking care of your sister means making sure they’re happy, right?”
Paul nodded again.
“Well, as you can see, they’re pretty happy being together, so I’m thinking that if you’re willing to stay, they could both keep right on being happy. And I’d be happy to have you to help out with some chores Ethan Allen’s not capable of doing.”
Olivia knew there was nothing Ethan was incapable of doing, but she had to find a way of making Paul feel necessary. The boy had his daddy’s pride, and it was something that stood in the way of anything that remotely resembled charity.
Paul furrowed his brow. “I’m not so sure—”
Before he could give voice to an objection, Olivia suggested they give it a try and see how things worked out.
After a fair bit of back and forth, Paul finally agreed. “Just for a while,” he said and suggested Olivia might want to remain in her apartment since he was none too sure they’d be there on a permanent basis.
“I’m fine with sleeping on the sofa,” he added.
“We’re going to be here for a few weeks anyway,” Olivia explained, knowing she’d need time to find a place. Then there’d be all that packing and moving. She could already imagine the farewell parties and the unabashed tears that would flow. Not from Jim Turner maybe, but certainly by many of the other residents and Olivia herself.
After breakfast she handed Paul a five-dollar bill and asked if he would take the kids to the park and get lunch at the coffee shop on Williams Street. “I’ve a lot to do,” she said, “and it would be a big help if the kids were out of my hair.”
Olivia put on the pretense of this b
eing something the children couldn’t do on their own, but in truth they’d been doing almost the exact same thing since the day after Jubilee arrived. When they left she stood at the window and watched. Ethan Allen and Jubilee rode their bikes, and Paul trotted alongside them. Even in the bright sunlight she could see the same aura she’d seen last night, and she was certain she’d made the right decision.
After the dishes had been cleared from the table, washed, and set in the drainer, Olivia made two telephone calls. The first was to Clara and the second to Seth Porter. What she had to say wasn’t something you shared with friends over a twist of telephone wire, so she invited them both to come for a cup of coffee.
Right off Clara was suspicious of a special invitation to do something she did every day anyway. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”
“Not really wrong, just different.”
“I knew it!” Seconds after she hung up the telephone, Clara was at the door.
Seth Porter followed along a heartbeat later.
Olivia led them to the kitchen and poured three cups of coffee. As they sat at the table, she told them of the decision she’d made.
“It’s not that I want to leave here,” she said. “It’s that I have no other choice. These children have no one else. Caring for them is something I have to do.”
She told of her meeting with Anita and how the woman had seen the girl as an unwelcome stranger. Her voice faltered and cracked twice as she spoke about the way Jubilee cried and begged not to be sent to live with Aunt Anita.
“Yes, it will break my heart to leave here,” Olivia said, “but it’s what I have to do.” As Olivia spoke the final words she nervously stirred a third spoonful of sugar into her coffee then looked up. Clara had tears streaming down her face, and Seth Porter had the ghastly pall of a man on the verge of death.
Jubilee's Journey Page 25