Behind Lily, astonishment was undoubtedly rolling over Ellis’s face.
“Mommy, pleeease?”
She nodded with little thought. In that moment, he could have asked for a box full of nails and she would have agreed.
Samuel burst into a grin. He disappeared inside before Lily collected her resolve, her reasoning, and turned to Ellis. “You have to understand,” she insisted. “The chief never would’ve hired me. And the boardinghouse certainly wouldn’t have been an option if anyone there knew.”
Ellis’s expression indeed held surprise, but with merciful subtlety, absent of judgment. He glanced back toward the deli. “He’s a good-looking boy, your son.”
She hugged her arms to her chest, more than the rain delivering a chill. She was starkly aware of the upper hand she had just surrendered, which perhaps was never rightly hers. “Thank you.”
Silence billowed between them until he asked, “How long have you known, about the kids in the photo?”
“A while.” It wasn’t her intention to be vague. “I kept wondering what troubled you about them, after you came to me. Eventually, I looked closer at the picture that went to press.”
“But you didn’t tell anyone,” he guessed.
She shook her head that she hadn’t. “You wrote a good article. It deserved to be read.” Perhaps unconsciously she’d had another reason: her own experience from compromises made to get by.
She noted her hypocrisy now, judging him as she had—his role in their spat aside. “It’s all in the past anyway. No reason for you to dwell upon what’s done.”
At that, he angled his head away and again kneaded the brim of his hat. There was more to the story.
“Ellis? What is it?”
Dread, like a vine, wound through her, even before he answered. When he did, each word, each imagined scene, sowed further devastation from what had come to pass.
A vacant house.
A mailman’s tale.
A ripple of consequences from the click of a shutter.
Digesting it all, Lily watched a puddle forming on the street. The sky darkened and rainfall thickened. There were too many thoughts and feelings to process all at once.
She looked back at Ellis and couldn’t tell if the mist in his eyes was from weather or emotion, though she suspected it was both.
They would sort this out—they had to. But not out here, not in the rain.
“Come inside,” she said, unsure if he heard her until he closed the car door to follow.
• • •
Tension hovered over the table as the family ate supper with minimal conversation. It didn’t help that Lily and Ellis, though toweled off and mostly dry, still resembled mutts from an alley. Even Samuel’s drawings of family and cakes and sunbursts, taped to the room’s powder-blue walls, failed to lighten the mood.
Lily’s mother had asked Ellis to stay for supper. Based on her tone, however, the invitation was a mere courtesy. If Lily had any doubt, she needed but peek at either end of the table, where her parents exuded as much suspicion as displeasure. The fact that Ellis was seated across from Lily and Samuel, in the chair often reserved for Clayton, made the core issue even more glaring.
To Ellis’s credit, he upheld an amicable front in spite of his quandary.
Foraging for conversation, Lily informed him that her mother had hand-painted the little bunnies on the ceramic meat-loaf dish, rabbits being Samuel’s favorite animal. Ellis was quick to compliment Lily’s mother, on both the dish and the meat loaf. For this, he received the briefest of thanks.
Lily’s efforts to engage her father fared no better, as small talk about baseball only led to his questioning of Ellis. “You a Yankees fan?” His challenging tone didn’t make clear the correct response was yes.
Lily stiffened when Ellis paused from eating. “I’m afraid I’ve been too busy lately to follow the games much. But I understand they’ve got a strong lineup this year.” The diplomacy of his reply, though impressively quick, indicated that if he cheered for any team, it wasn’t the Yankees. Her father’s scowl said this didn’t get past his sensor.
Before Lily could intervene, Ellis swiftly turned to Samuel: “So, you’re a fan of rabbits, huh?”
Samuel kept his gaze low, ever averse to strangers, using his spoon to push through his mound of mashed potatoes.
Lily gently prodded, “Be polite and answer Mr. Reed.”
Samuel rendered a stiff nod.
Lily met Ellis’s eyes, sneaking him a wordless apology—inviting him inside wasn’t meant to compound his troubles—but he came back with a warm smile. Paired with a small shake of his head, he told her not to worry. And so, supper plodded along in the all-too-cozy space. The sounds of drizzling rain and periodic thunder provided their only reprieve until Samuel stifled a giggle.
Lily cut a glance toward her son before tracing his focus across the table, landing on the long-eared rabbit fashioned from a linen napkin. Like a puppeteer, Ellis sent the animal hopping to the bowl of glazed carrots, where it wiggled its nose. Samuel laughed again, and the intensity in the room gave ever so slightly. Even Lily’s parents couldn’t hide their surprise, their grandson’s joy reliably infectious.
Samuel’s interest had just begun to fade when Ellis said, “How about a turtle?”
This time Samuel nodded with vigor, and Ellis went to work. He folded and tucked and tugged until the rabbit had transformed into the shelled creature. The turtle crawled along the table’s edge, garnering more giggles, before Samuel asked for a bird. Ellis gladly obliged, appearing to almost forget his burden.
Lily slipped away to serve pieces of her homemade rhubarb pie, which Ellis praised though barely had the chance to eat. He was too busy filling half a dozen other requests. Even one by Lily’s father—at Samuel’s urging.
By the end of the meal, neither of Lily’s parents had fully relinquished their guardedness, but they did fulfill their roles as proper hosts. Her mother even offered accommodations for the night on account of the weather.
“Thank you,” Ellis replied, “but really, I’ve already imposed too much.”
Lily’s mother tsked. “No sense leaving till it’s safe. Lillian, fetch the spare sheets.” The implied instruction was to make up the sofa.
For more than one reason the extended stay unsettled Lily. There was no practicality, however, in sending a tired driver out into a storm at night.
• • •
Every minute slogged into the next, stretching endlessly toward dawn. The pounding rain had gradually let up. In the bed beside Lily’s, the quilt over Samuel’s chest rose and fell with each breath. She inhaled his faint boyish scent, envious of his ability to rest.
In the dimness, she counted the stripes on the wallpaper of white and marigold, a relaxing habit since childhood. But tonight, not even warm milk would deliver her to sleep.
Just then, she caught a noise. She raised her head from the pillow and listened. Another creak suggested movement on the floor below. Her parents never ones to stir this late, she surmised that Ellis’s mind, like her own, was spinning over two children not meant to be sold.
How could Ellis—or she, for that matter—ever find peace until they knew more?
An idea came to her. It would mean shaving a few hours off her weekend with Samuel, but there was no better option. She had to tell Ellis, and now. If he were to leave by dawn, she would miss him altogether.
With quiet care, she slid out of bed, tied on her robe, and made her way down the stairs. In the sitting room, Ellis stood at the window, the curtains half-open. Moonlight softened his features as he stared into the night. Though he still wore his trousers, his suspenders hung loose down his thighs. Only a sleeveless undershirt covered his torso, the muscles of his arms and chest defined by shadows.
Lily suddenly worried over the unseemly meeting. She was dress
ed in little more than a nightgown. Not even slippers covered her bare feet. She took a step back, causing a floorboard to creak.
Ellis turned. “Did I wake you?” His voice was soft and raspy, threaded with concern.
She shook her head.
It would be silly to retreat now.
She moved just close enough to be heard well in a hush. “Tomorrow, I think we should go to the Dillards’ old area. To Laurel Township.”
“Lily.” Already there was an objection in his tone. Maybe he had considered it before. But he needed to hear her out.
“This train worker—the cabbie—he saw it all happen. He might know more: about where the kids went, why their mother did what she did. You said yourself she didn’t seem the type to do such a thing.”
“Lily,” he said again, “I appreciate the suggestion, and I definitely plan to dig around. You don’t need to get involved, though. That’s not the reason I told you. You didn’t do this. I did.”
“You’re wrong.” As he shifted to fully face her, Lily forced down the emotion, the guilt that had been mounting all evening. “I gave the chief your first picture. I found it in the darkroom. When I saw it, as a mother… Well, it hit home.” She opted to simplify, not up for delving needlessly into her and Samuel’s past.
Ellis’s brow lifted, an expression of finally grasping a missing piece. For a second, Lily wondered if he might resent her for instigating this terrible mess.
Instead, he answered, “It’s still not your fault. I’m sure you were only trying to help.”
“Fine. Then let me keep doing that now. I need to, Ellis. Please.”
Graciously, he didn’t ask why. He just considered her words, then let out a breath. “So, we’ll go together.”
Her burden lessened a fraction, for at least they had a plan. When they traded smiles, the space between them became far too quiet, too close. And yet, Lily hesitated to leave.
Spread over the sofa, the sheets remained smooth and unused. A restless night lay ahead for them both.
After all, discoveries awaited. Surely nothing of the worst sort. “You do know we’re likely worrying over nothing, what with a wealthy banker willing to raise the children. We could very well find out that everything turned out for the best.”
“Absolutely,” Ellis said. “We could.”
Together they almost sounded convinced.
Chapter 17
Morning arrived in a blink. Wafts of coffee and baking bread seeped through the bleariness. For a moment, Ellis was back in his parents’ home, waking to the scent of his mother’s rolls.
Since their disastrous outing a week prior, he hadn’t reached out to his folks. It wasn’t for lack of courage; he just didn’t know what to say. Other than act like it never happened, or apologize and shoulder the blame. Either route was standard when dealing with his father. But honestly, Ellis was just too tired to slap another bandage over the festering reality of the man’s disapproval.
Besides, how could he ask for any level of respect until the mystery of the Dillards was put to rest?
A pair of small eyes peeked from the hallway, drawing Ellis back to his actual surroundings. “Heya, Samuel,” he whispered, not wanting to wake anyone, and got a wave in return.
The kid had been a surprise, no question about it. But so much more about Lily became clear. Ellis had long ago seen how smart and skilled she was at her job. Now he had a sense of her bravery too.
Sitting up, he stretched his back. After years of the rickety bed in Philly, a cushioned sofa was pretty darn comfortable, though it had still taken half the night to catch some shut-eye. “Any idea of the time?”
Samuel shook his head.
Through an opening in the curtains, light from the overcast sky gave only a hint to the hour. Ellis’s pocket watch was stored in his suit jacket, slung over the rocking chair by the window. As he rose to retrieve it, Samuel approached. He presented a linen napkin tied into a wad, causing Ellis to cock his head.
“It’s a snail,” the boy explained proudly.
“Oh yeah. I see it. A real swell one too.”
A smile, lined with perfect baby teeth, bloomed on Samuel’s face. Then he scurried off, and the memory of another boy—Ruby’s brother—swung back at Ellis. The round face and large eyes, the thick lashes. The vision of Calvin fueled Ellis for the day’s mission.
In a flash, he threw on the rest of his clothes. Down the hall, he was surprised to find the family around the dining room table, already dressed and finishing breakfast. He assumed their low voices were intended to keep from disturbing their unplanned guest. But when he said “Good morning,” the discussion snapped off.
Lily returned the greeting, as did her mother, who brought him a plate of biscuits and fried ham. Ellis took a seat, not quite hungry after his full supper the night before. He dove in regardless. He was halfway done when Lily’s father spoke to him over the rim of his coffee mug.
“Family’s headed to mass soon. You attend mass on Sundays?”
Ellis swallowed a bite of bread, aware he was again being scrutinized. This time, he didn’t bother to get creative. “I was actually raised Protestant, sir, but I did grow up going to church.”
Silence gripped the room, confirming the man’s stance.
Lily interjected, “We really should set off soon, Mr. Reed…if we’re going to make a stop for work on the way back to Philly.”
Rising from the table, Ellis thanked the family, his cue to pack up undeniably welcome.
• • •
The majority of the drive passed without conversation. Not that Ellis minded. Lily, up early with her son, dozed through even the car’s rattling. With sun rays reaching through the clouds and warming her face, she couldn’t have looked more peaceful. It was the first time he’d seen her hair worn down over her shoulders—by daylight anyhow. In ladies’ trousers and a casual shirt beneath her coat, with barely a touch of makeup, she really was a natural looker.
It took a concerted effort to keep his eyes on the road.
At last they entered Chester County. They were closing in on the train depot closest to Laurel Township when jostling from a small pothole stirred Lily.
“This is it,” he told her. The station sat at the end of a road. He pulled over to park. Fields and gravel surrounded much of the area, with distant storefronts glimpsed over a hill.
Lily reclaimed her handbag from her side, shaking off the dust of sleep. A look of determination sharpened her eyes, and Ellis refocused on the goal.
“Let’s find some answers,” she said. When he nodded, they opened their doors.
• • •
Inside the train depot, flyers pinned to a corkboard fluttered from the door closing behind Lily and Ellis. The waiting room held four long benches, only one of them occupied. An older gentleman in a beige, plaid suit balanced a suitcase on his lap. His eyelids drooped on his gaunt face.
Ellis led the way to the ticket booth. The clerk, a bespectacled middle-aged woman, stood hunched over a book. She lifted her gaze to Ellis, appearing somewhat irked by the disturbance to her reading. “Where to?”
“Good morning, ma’am. I was hoping to find a man who works here. Mr. Gaines, I believe?”
“Gale,” she corrected.
“Mr. Gale—that’s the one.” Ellis was accustomed to imprinting names directly to memory, a vital skill at the paper, but the postman’s details had been clouded by circumstance. “Do you know if he’s around?”
The clerk appeared suspicious.
Lily chimed in brightly. “We just have a personal matter we hope Mr. Gale could help us with. I promise we won’t take up much of his time.”
The woman answered flatly, “Walt’s not scheduled on Sundays.” Then she sniffed and added, “But he does usually swing through to check in.”
“That’s great to hear,” Ellis
said.
“That’s no guarantee.”
Ellis understood, but it was better than nothing. Pressing for the man’s home address would clearly prove fruitless. “Any clue when he might be by?”
The clerk sighed, bordering on a huff. “Next few hours maybe. I’m not Walt’s keeper.”
Lily replied, “That’s most helpful. We’ll gladly wait where we’ll be out of your hair.”
There was no need for Ellis to concur. The clerk’s attention had already dropped to her book.
Ellis and Lily receded to the closest bench, where he took a seat. She chose to stand, gripping her purse, her gaze diverted to her side of the room. Her sparse answers to his attempts at basic conversation made clear a wedge remained between them. She had come for a single reason.
Church bells rang in the distance as Ellis hung his fedora on his knee. He was mindlessly tapping the brim when Lily murmured something to herself, then marched back to the clerk. When she returned, her steps and speech were hurried. “The clerk thinks a wedding just let out. I figure the town pastor is bound to know about the goings-on in the community. If I can catch him, maybe he’ll be willing to share. Shall we meet here after?”
It made sense, about the pastor as well as to split up. They could cover more ground. “I’ll be waiting,” he barely said before she flew out the door.
Over the next hour, impatience growing, Ellis endured the snores of the gentleman on the next bench, remarkably still seated upright. A train passed through without stopping before a teenage girl entered to purchase a ticket. She boarded the next train, as did a couple leaving for their honeymoon. The groom elatedly announced this to the clerk, prompting a muttering of condolences.
Each swing of the entry door caused Ellis to straighten, only to sink back into his bench, until a tall, lanky man arrived in a flat cap and unbuttoned jacket. He ambled toward the ticket booth, all knees and elbows. In greeting, the clerk’s mouth stretched into something resembling a smile. But it just as soon flattened when, in discussion, she pointed Ellis’s way.
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