My Lucky Penny

by Jill Barnett

  At her house he helped her down from the carriage, walked with her up the stairs and took the key from her hand and unlocked the door. She walked in the entry and turned on the light. He turned it off and closed the door.

  "Edward..."

  He took her in arms and kissed her softly, tasted her pink lips, the Bordeaux and a little of the oranges. While he was kissing her he took off their gloves, tossed them on the floor, removed her hat and threaded his hands with hers, backing her against the wall and exploring the sweetness of her mouth with his tongue. His hands roamed her body, soft in all the places he wanted, to touch, to taste. "Idalie," he whispered and her coat fell away.

  She said his name on a breath before he filled her mouth again. Her hands were on his shirt, his on her breasts, and she reached up and pulled the pins from her hair and all that lovely hair, shiny, clean, smelling of carnations, streaked with gold and pale blonde, a thousand different colors of sunshine, that breathtaking hair spilled around her shoulders and down almost to her waist.

  He pulled at her clothes, at his, placed his hand between her legs and she moaned and dropped her head to his shoulder as he played with her until he felt her release, and he held her close, soothed her cries and told her he loved her, over and over. "Marry me, Idalie. Be my life. Be my love."

  "Edward," she whispered. "Isn't it too soon? Should we...."

  "No. Marry me, Idalie. I won't take you against a door, standing in your house. Let's do this right. Say yes."

  She looked at him, tears in her eyes and said, "Yes."

  "Soon."

  "Yes."

  'Tomorrow."

  "Tomorrow!"

  Ed laughed. "That was a test. I just wanted to make certain you were paying attention."

  He pulled back and they straightened their clothes. Ed picked everything up off the floor while she repinned her hair and then he was pulling on his gloves and whispering against her lips that he didn't want to leave her.

  She looked disheveled. She looked loved and he wanted her more than he had every wanted anything in his life, and because of that, he kissed her goodnight and left.

  10

  First came a fruit basket, the biggest, most luscious fruit basket Idalie had ever seen, filled with over a dozen oranges, three pineapples--three--and boxes of dates, fresh figs, and cherries.

  A card in a masculine scrawl said, Your lips are sweeter, my love. Edward

  Then came the flowers, roses and carnations, French tulips and Christmas lilies, in white, pinks and reds, with another card. "Your scene is more memorable, my love. Edward

  The chocolates were a surprise, ten pounds of chocolates. Ten pounds! He was mad. She was in love with a madman. The card read, "I want you more than chocolate, my love. Edward.

  What's next, she thought? Puppies? But she smiled all day at work, and took two pounds of chocolates to work with her and put them in the work room and told everyone to help themselves and Merry Christmas. She came home expecting to hear from him, but there was no note so she changed clothes and went down into the basement.

  She hadn't gone through Jo's things since the funeral, when her parents helped her bring everything down to the basement. Somewhere was a book of poems, one they had shared. Love poems. She went though the books in some crates, and others in a few boxes, but there was nothing. She knew she had saved it.

  A large trunk was shoved into the back corner and Idalie dragged it out into the light. She opened it, then took out the lined tray and set it aside. Jo's gowns, her clothes, a box of trinkets and another of her favorite jewelry pieces. They shouldn't be locked away. Jo would want her to wear them. She set the box aside and reached into the bottom, where a small volume of love poems lay. She pulled it out but something else spilled open. A piece of muslin, and a doll arm flung out.

  It couldn't be. She was sure Jo had thrown it out. Or she had thought Jo threw it out. She lifted out the cloth and unwrapped it. The very first Josephine doll lay in tatters. Her face was chipped, her lips cracked, her wig torn off and the doll body was shredded from Pirate's claws. The cat, new to their house, rescued by Jo, had torn the doll apart when they were both at work one day. She examined the doll. She could repair this. She thought she could repair this. She had two days.

  She closed up the trunk, took the jewelry and the doll upstairs to her room. It was 6 o'clock. She had time. It wasn't too late. She had to tell Ed.

  The message arrived late in the day. Ed was called to the job site to meet with the contractor and Hal in an hour. That morning, after ordering the gifts for Idalie, he'd had just enough time to squeeze in one more errand before he had to make a lunch meeting at the club. Afterward he had spent most of the afternoon with the planning commission, going over project changes and city ordinances. There had been no time send a message to Idalie. He wanted to take her to dinner. To celebrate. He was on the fence about the last gift. In his excitement, he wanted to give it her tonight. But he knew he should save it for Christmas.

  Traffic was always heaviest later in the day and was no exception, being just days from Christmas. The tree was being delivered Christmas Eve, so he really only had one more day. The carriage pulled up on the back side of the job off of 7th, and Ed crossed the dirt lot, heading for the bottom floor of the first building. The guards were at the edges of the site. He could see three of them before he walked into the first floor. The site had been cleaned again, after the last vandalism, so he walked the ground floor, checking the fittings, the steel beams. The workers were gone. It was dinner time for most people, or close to it. He stood in front, looking up. Each of the floors was well-lit after all the accidents. He didn't want any more trouble and the gates had been rebuilt another two feet higher, making it harder to jump them without being seen.

  He checked his watch. Where was Hal?

  Idalie had gone to the house but Ed was not there, something about more trouble at the job site. The streets were busy and the trolley even busier, so she walked there. The snow had stopped and it was just cold now, so she moved as fast as she could to keep warm. She rounded the corner. The gates were higher and she looked for one of the guards to let her inside.

  Why were there no guards on the busiest side of the site?

  "Hallo!" she called out. "Hallo!" She walked the length two times before she saw the broken chain and pulled open the end of the fencing and walked into the lot. "Edward? Somebody?" She heard a groan and saw movement in the dirt yard by the east end. What she had taken for supplies covered with an oil tarp was a man. She ran over. It was one of the guards.

  "Are you okay, sir? What happened?” She knelt down beside him as he tried to sit up. "Have you seen Mr. Lowell? Mr. Green?"

  "He hit me from behind. Where's Charley? The other guard?" She looked around be saw nothing. There were more guards in back. She wasn't sure what to do first. Find the guards. Get a policeman.

  From somewhere above, she heard voices. "Edward!" She scanned the upper floors, where electrical lights were bright an almost blinding when one looked up at them. Then she saw the shadows. The silhouettes of two men on the topmost floor, standing near the scaffolding.

  Buddy MacFarland was trouble. He'd worked for Ed for over a year before he'd finally fired him and hired a new site boss. "What are you doing here, MacFarland?"

  "What do you think, Ed?" he said in that cocky, belligerent manner that caused trouble on the job even when there was no trouble to be had.

  "I think you've been up to no good."

  "And you'd be right."

  "I would guess Hal and Wheeler are not coming, since I'm the one who fired you."

  "Smart man. It's just you and me."

  "I thought you had left town. We looked for you after the first break in and were told you moved on to Philadelphia."

  "I did. A lousy workman's job is all I could get with no references. You ruined me. And Philly is just a short train ride away."

  "This is stupid. Dangerous. Go on. Get out of here now and I won't press c
harges."

  "You think you can get away from the guards"

  "I already have and half of them are unconscious."

  Ed heard someone on the scaffolding below, hoping it was one of the guards, so he moved away, talking, drawing MacFarland with him, feeding his mad ego to keep his attention until the man's back was to the scaffolding, which was to only way to the top floors.

  But it was not a guard who rose up through the scaffolding ladder in a skirt.

  Edward panicked. How the hell was he going to save her with this madman threatening to push him off. She raised a finger to her lips, took a step onto the wood flooring just as MacFarland turned around.

  It all happened so fast. He had the image of Idalie swinging her purse through the air. It hit MacFarland square in the head and he went down like lead rock.

  "Are you crazy, woman? Why would you climb up here?”

  She ran over to him and threw her arms around his neck. "Are you okay? He said he was going to push you. Oh, Edward!" Then she began to cry.

  A commotion came from below and three guards came up from below.

  "There's our troublemaker," Ed said.

  MacFarland was still out cold and they rolled him over and handcuffed him. Ed looked at her, then at MacFarland again. "You hit him with your purse?"

  "Yes." She sniffled, then took out a handkerchief. "It has a hammer in it."

  Ed released her and looked inside the bag. A lead headed hammer lay in the bottom.

  "It's been there for a few weeks. I forgot to take it out."

  "Come along, Idalie. Let's get out of here. And on the way down you can tell me all about the hammer, my love."

  11

  In all the commotion, Idalie forgot to tell Edward about the doll. By the time she crawled into bed, exhausted, she decided she should surprise him as well as Penny. There was not much time. She rose early so she could start working on the doll's face before work. She patch-filled in on the large chip in the doll's forehead, and glazed the whole face to cover the small cracks and repainted the mouth. The head would be dry by the time she got off work.

  On her lunch break, she hired a cab to take her to a supplier for a new wig and a hand without broken fingers.

  "I'm sorry, " Miss Everdeane. "These are all the wigs we have left. This time of year there isn't any inventory, not with all the rush jobs this close to Christmas. And we're the only supplier in the city."

  There were only three doll wigs. One was a bright orange red and the other two were short brown wigs.

  "The blonde wigs are the first to go, you know."

  Idalie stood there for a few seconds before she asked, "If I find the hair, can you stitch together a wig?"

  "Oh yes. It would only take an hour."

  She reached up and removed her hat, then unpinned her hair and the man, inhaled sharply. "Cut what you need."

  "Miss Everdeane, I--you--I mean. Your own hair? Are you certain?"

  "Do it quick, sir. I must get back to work."

  A few minutes later she tucked what was left of her hair into a knot, a small knot, and replaced her hat, which now sat lower on her head. "I'll be back before six," she said briskly and left the shop. She got into the waiting cab and directed him back to the store. She touched her hair. Her head felt so light. She sagged back against the leather seat. It was going to be a long day, and an even longer night.

  The Christmas tree was delivered by mid-morning on Christmas Eve. Penny was so excited she was jumping around like a kangaroo. Idalie was at work, but she promised to be there in time for dinner, an elaborate meal that he had ordered to celebrate the holiday.

  By mid afternoon, Edward was standing in a cluster of wires and questioning the placement of these newfangled electrical Christmas tree lights. Candles were easier. You clipped them to a branch and lit them...then prayed there wasn't a fire. Every house with a tree had always had a water or sand bucket nearby.

  Someone was at the door and Ed heard a familiar voice before his Aunt Martha walked into the room, stopped, imperiously surveyed everything and said, "It looks like I'm here just in time. Come here, boy, and give me a hug. I've been in every port but New York since leaving England."

  By 6 o'clock Ed poured himself a bourbon. Everything was ready. Martha had taken charge and the house looked like Christmas and smelled like roasting beef and cinnamon apple pie. Why he'd thought he could do all this one Christmas Eve was beyond him. The doorknocker sounded and he met Idalie in the entry, where Baxter was taking her hat and coat. She handed Baxter a large shopping bag and a box and told him to put them where no one could find them, then she turned to face him and he knew all was good in the world. She was dressed in midnight blue velvet, a fabric that clung to her figure and made her eyes look the deepest blue he'd ever seen. Her hair was different, smaller, tighter, and it didn't look as if it would spill down her back at any moment and she wore sapphire drops in her ears. He flicked one with a finger. "Nice."

  She smiled. 'They were Jo's."

  "You look beautiful," he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing her forehead. "And exhausted."

  "It was a long day."

  "It might get longer." He took her hand and led her into the salon.

  "The tree looks lovely. Look at those lights!"

  And it did look pretty damned impressive, for a Christmas tree, with its electric light strings and crystal and silver ornaments. He poured her a glass of champagne. "To celebrate us." He winked at her. "Aunt Martha finally arrived. Late this afternoon. She should be down soon," he said, sitting down on the arm of her chair. "She's of that fashionably late generation."

  "Yes, I will not deny it," Martha said, coming into the room like a queen, dressed in deep green with a necklace of large emeralds, matching earbobs, and a tall, green-feathered hair ornament. "Of course by arriving late there is the best chance of making a grand entrance. Although I must say that years ago, with all of us fashionably late ladies crowded together in the anteroom like a gaggle of geese, there weren't many grand entrances. Now, you must be Edward's Idalie. Come girl, give us a kiss and let me look at you. You must tell me all about the hammer. I think I would have taken it out of my handbag and clobbered the villain straight on."

  Penny and Miss Clement joined them, and the noise level increased ten-fold. A four year old on Christmas Eve could do that. Penny was spinning around them like a top, chattering as if she had bottled up all those words she hadn't spoken and they were all tumbling out now.

  And so went the night, with Aunt Martha including each of them, even Miss Clement in the conversation, ferreting out family stories and entertaining them throughout dinner with her recent travels. The woman was a keen observer Idalie playing the piano afterward and Ed saw how she watched Idalie, watched her as she played the piano and they sang carols and drank mulled wine.

  It took three of them to convince Penny that the sooner she went to bed, the sooner Santa Claus would visit. But Ed felt sick. There were gifts, but no Josephine doll and he worried she would stop believing in the magic of Christmas. She had had a tough few months. She finally reluctantly agreed to go to bed when Martha pointed out that she was probably making him fly in circles over the city because he couldn't land his sleigh until she was truly asleep.

  When Ed came downstairs, Idalie was sitting on the sofa with the packages she'd given Baxter, sound asleep. Ed bent over and kissed her forehead. "Wake up, my love."

  "That girl needs to go to bed, Edward. Take her upstairs."

  "No," I need to go home. I'm sorry, I'm--"

  Ed swept her up in his arms and moved toward the staircase.

  "Wait!" She hung out over his arm. "My packages. Put them under the tree, please."

  Martha looked inside the bag. "Oh. Look." Her eyes teared up as she lifted out the doll with its long blonde hair and in her blue coat and beaver muff. "She does look like Josie."

  "Idalie... How?" Ed stared at the doll. It was even more beautiful close up. The doll was perfect.


  "It was Jo's, I gave her the first doll, but it was damaged. Pirate tore it up. The face was chipped, half a hand was gone. I thought it had been thrown out. But I found it two nights ago. I had to repair it. But look, she's perfect."

  "She is. When did you last get any sleep? Wait, don't tell me. I can see it for myself. You're going to bed."

  She lay her head against his shoulder and sighed, "Promises, promises."

  Idalie awoke in Ed's arms. She was wearing an ice blue silk peignoir Martha insisted she wear...and keep, since Martha had never worn it, nor was she likely to. The silk felt like heaven against her skin. She had no idea how long she had slept, but remembered Ed kissing her and unpinning her hair.

  "The doll," he said knowingly.

  "They were out of blonde wigs."

  He touched the short ends that just reached her shoulders. "I'll miss it."

  "It will grow," she had reminded him. "You'll be surprised how quickly."

  "What you gave up for me. For Penny. I don't think I could ask for a better gift."

  And she must have fallen asleep because she remembered nothing more. She turned to look at him, his head on the pillow next to hers, the masculine angles of his face and jaw shadowed in edges of moonlight that shone through the window. He opened his eyes.

  "It's Christmas," he said.

  "I believe it is." She smiled at him. This was their future and the most profound sense of peace settled over her, like nothing Idalie had ever felt before.

  Ed rolled over and reached into his coat, which was on the floor. He was in his shirt sleeves and trousers, his feet bare, his shirt open. When rolled back he had a small box in his hand. "Merry Christmas, my love."

  She untied the ribbon and opened the box. There was ring box inside with a small card written in a masculine scrawl,