Love Comes Calling

by Siri Mitchell

  “And you think you can get him fired?”

  “We have evidence. And now,” he patted his pocket, “maybe I have enough evidence to get King too.”

  “You’re not thinking of testifying against him?”

  “You bet I’m going to!”

  “But that could be dangerous!”

  “Dangerous for them.”

  “For you. You can’t just go poking your nose into other people’s business! And—how are you going to be governor someday if you go and get yourself killed?”

  “The mayor is supposed to work for me. For all of us. That makes what he does everybody’s business. And King is nothing but an old-time outlaw.”

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I won’t. Besides, why should anyone care what I do?”

  “Everyone cares what you do!” Even me. Even when I shouldn’t.

  He rested a hand on my arm and put a finger to his lips. Sitting there on the stump in the dark, I listened to the sweep of the wind scraping the sea grasses out on the dunes, to the hoot of an owl, to the slow, steady breathing of Griff as he crouched beside me.

  “I think we’re safe now.” He put a hand into his pocket.

  Oh, crumb. I’d forgotten all about that pin!

  With a rustle of paper, he brought something out. “Want some licorice?”

  I tried to sleep in, but the ancient house came awake with creaks and groans much sooner than I would have liked, along with the laughter of the boys and Julia’s accompanying screeches. With my waking came the memory of Griff’s lips on mine . . . and the sharp smell of . . . licorice?

  I sniffed at my fingers.

  Yes, licorice. I licked them clean as I contemplated the day.

  I’d fallen into bed with my clothes still on, and when I got up, I found my sheets were filled with sand. I tried to brush it off onto the floor with not very satisfactory results. And when I put up a hand to rake my hair back, I discovered sand on my scalp as well. A bath was in order. Or at least a swim. But if King Solomon was here, then I had to keep Griff inside and out of sight. At least until we went to the train station in the evening.

  So, no swimming, then. A bath would have to do.

  Surely Julia had run the rust out of the pipes by now.

  I pulled on my sweater and tiptoed down the hall, trying to avoid the boys, but they had reached the bathroom before I had. There might not be any rust-colored water in the bathtub, but there were all manner of turtles. And lizards.

  I shuddered as one of them stuck out a forked tongue at me.

  Downstairs, in the dining room, Mother was still eating breakfast. She put down her tea as I entered. “Ellis.” She took a long look at me. “There is a wardrobe in your bedroom. If you would bother to hang your clothes up, it wouldn’t look as if you’d slept in them.”

  “I’m sorry. Are the boys . . . ?”

  “They’re out.”

  Thank goodness! I went through to the kitchen and begged a piece of toast from the cook, along with a hard-boiled egg. She followed me back into the dining room with a teapot and poured me a blessedly full cup once I’d sat down at the table.

  As I rolled my egg across the tablecloth, Mother frowned at me. I supposed she wanted me to give it a polite whack with the tip of my knife, but I’d seen Irene do her eggs this way and I liked the feel of it under my palm as the shell finally gave way.

  “About Griffin . . .”

  I paused in my rolling. Had she heard us last night?

  “It was very thoughtful of you to extend an invitation to him. I don’t believe the Phillipses have summered away from Boston since Maude died. I just want to take this opportunity to say I’ve been heartened by the changes I’ve seen in you lately.”

  I felt a twinge of guilt knowing she thought I was helping out at the orphan asylum. “About my job, Mother. I should really tell you—”

  “I should tell you, Ellis, how proud I am of you.” An actual, honest-to-goodness smile curved her lips. “I don’t get the chance to say that very often. I truly feel you’ve started to turn a corner. Keep it up. That’s all I wanted to say.”

  I was letting her believe something that wasn’t true, but I’d tried so long to make her proud of me, I just couldn’t bear to dash her hopes again. It would be something she could remember after I was gone: that one day I was good back when I’d traded places with Janie when I was little and that one time I’d made her proud when I’d worked at the orphan asylum. I smiled back at her and then started peeling the shell away from my egg.

  “Oh—and the boys wanted to go swimming today. Maybe you and Griffin could take them.”

  “No!”

  Her brows flew up into her forehead.

  If King Solomon were still in the area, then the only safe place for Griff was here, inside the house. “I can take them, but I don’t think Griff would want to go. He’s . . . been working so hard. I’m sure all he wants to do this weekend is sleep.”

  “Goodness.” Mother drew her sweater tight at her throat. “I hope he takes good care of himself. Sometimes fatigue can turn into ague. Maybe that’s why he’s not up yet.”

  He was still sleeping? I was of a mind to stomp upstairs and rattle his door to wake him up, but I was hungry. Apparently early morning walks required a lot of energy. I devoured the egg, ate the toast, and downed my tea. If I was lucky, I’d have an hour or two of peace before the boys returned.

  I wasn’t lucky. I was never lucky.

  Just as I’d settled down on my bed with a magazine, the boys barreled into the house and up the stairs. Someday they were going to punch a hole right through the old floor.

  The footsteps paused at my door. “Auntie Ellis?”

  I put a finger in the crease of my magazine and closed it. “She’s not here.”

  “She is too.”

  “Not.”

  “Too.”

  “Ellis!” Julia pushed open the door with a bang. And a frown. “Where have you been all morning?”

  “Sleeping. And eating breakfast.” And enjoying myself.

  “The boys want to go swimming.”

  “Isn’t it almost lunchtime?” Or near enough that there wasn’t time left to go swimming.

  She sighed. “After, then.”

  I’d come up with some excuse to keep Griffin here at the house. And at least then I’d have time to get the sand out of my hair . . . before it got replaced by more sand. The boys were hopping from foot to foot as if they’d got some mischief hidden in their pockets. They probably had. “I heard the cook was baking pie for lunch.”

  “Pie!” They raced off down the stairs.

  “Really, Ellis. I’d think you’d be more helpful.”

  Helpful! I’d been helpful all week long, trying to work Janie’s job and keep Griff from getting killed. If I were any more helpful, I might well help myself to an early grave. “Some people come to the shore for a break.”

  “Yes. And I’m one of them!”

  If she hadn’t married one of those down-on-their-fortune Otises, then maybe she’d have been able to hire a nurse for the children and get all the breaks she wanted.

  “Clarence was going to come this weekend, but then he changed his mind.”

  He always seemed to be changing his mind about coming to things.

  “Really, I’m just about at my wits’ end. And you of all people ought to be the person to help me.”

  Me of all people? She said it like I was to blame for her entire life. I was about to get mad, but then I realized how drawn and tired she looked. “I already said I’d take them after lunch, and I meant it.”

  “Thank you.” Her sigh seemed to drain all the energy from her body. She turned and went along back down the hall. But then Griff came to take her place. He was in his shirtsleeves, with his suspenders hanging from his waist. Sleep had mussed his hair, freeing it from the confines of pomade to hang about his face. He scooped it back with a hand. “There are some . . . uh . . . turtles in the b
athtub. . . . I just thought someone ought to know.”

  The boys were waiting at the entrance to the dining room at lunchtime like a pair of wriggly puppies, but Mother wasn’t about to let them pass. “I’ve decided on a picnic for our luncheon.” There was much exultation from the boys and a frown from Julia. An offer to help carry something from Griff and a polite, but firm, refusal from my mother. “Ellis said you’ve been fatigued lately.”

  Now I understood why we were picnicking! Mother’s cure for everything was a big dose of fresh air. Preferably accompanied by a stiff wind to drive it deep into the lungs. I took up a blanket to carry.

  Griff’s brow was wrinkled in puzzlement. “She did?”

  Standing behind Mother, I was bobbing my head like some organ-grinder’s monkey.

  His brow cleared, though he gave me a skeptical glance. “I have been working awfully hard. . . .”

  “Probably better, then, that you stayed in your room this morning and had a good rest.” That was quite a concession from a woman who believed the righteous had no business sleeping past six in the morning. Mother was gesturing for Father to take the hamper from Griff. “Julia? Why don’t you take the boys swimming after lunch? I have to go into town and that way Ellis can stay here in case Griffin has need of something.”

  “Why do I have to—”

  Mother’s steely-eyed glance put an end to Julia’s complaint.

  Griff pulled the blanket from my arms and started after the picnic hamper, which was making its way to the shore in my father’s hand. We were accompanied along the way by shrieks from the boys, who’d run off down the path.

  Griff couldn’t be outside. This wasn’t what I’d planned at all! “Wait!”

  He turned while the others kept on going. “Forget something?”

  “King Solomon.”

  “What?”

  “You know. Last night. What if they recognize us?”

  “They’re probably back in the city by now.”

  “But what if they aren’t? What if he’s still here?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye out. And anyway, that’s why I . . . well . . . one of the reasons why . . .” Was he blushing? “King never really saw my face. We were too busy . . .”

  Too busy. That was one way to refer to it!

  “And really, I ought to apologize.”

  “Apologize?”

  “It wasn’t very proper of me.”

  “Proper?”

  “Taking advantage of the situation like that.”

  As I followed him down the path, I couldn’t quite help being a little sorry he was sorry. Deep down, in a part of me I was supposed to be ignoring, I’d been kind of hoping he’d kiss me at least once more before we left.

  I spent the picnic on the lookout for King and suspicious men of any sort. I didn’t see any. And by the time I’d finally decided there were none, Father and Mother were taking a stroll along the beach, Griff had found a football from somewhere that he was tossing around with Lawrence, and the boys were eating the last piece of pie.

  That’s what you got for trying to keep someone from being killed.

  At least in Hollywood I wouldn’t have to do things like try to stop someone from being murdered. Maybe only for pretend, once in a while. But I’d have real-life experience now, which would be a good thing to go along with my talent of crying at nothing at all and my ability to laugh on cue, with great hilarity. I tried one out. It was extremely gratifying when the boys looked up as if they’d missed out on a joke.

  Julia frowned. She was always frowning. “Is there something funny? About being stuck out here on Buzzards Bay with two small boys? For the entire summer?”

  Looking at Julia’s face, I rather thought not. “No.” Now I’d gone and done it. She was crying. “I’m sorry, Julia, I didn’t think—”

  “You never do. That’s the problem with you, Ellis. You never think about anyone other than yourself!”

  Well, that wasn’t true at all. I thought about other people, didn’t I? I thought about Jack and how to get him to tell me the things I needed to know. But I suppose I couldn’t really count that, since I was doing that as Janie. I thought about Griff and how to keep him from giving me his pin, even though if I were staying I might just change my mind . . . so I shouldn’t probably think about him at all really. Except to keep him from getting killed. Who else was there to think of? And why should I spend time thinking about people who didn’t think very much of me? “Do you mean to say . . . am I terribly selfish?”

  “Ellis!” The word came out as something between a laugh and a cry. “Are you really asking me to tell you what I think about you? After I just told you that you never think of anyone but yourself?”

  Was I?

  “Just . . . go away.”

  Well, I was planning to. And soon!

  18

  On the way back to the house as we crossed the dunes, we saw a car filled with men drive down the lane. One of them tossed something out the window. When we came up to the road, we saw the stub of a cigar, its tip still aglow, lying in the road. Father ground it into the sand but not before it brought back all the things I’d worried about over lunch.

  When Julia told the boys to go put on their swimming trunks, I knew I had to think fast. “Why don’t we all spend the afternoon at home?” I walked into the parlor and sat down on that mouse-eaten chair just to make sure they understood what I was saying.

  Julia and Mother looked down at me in horror. “With the boys?”

  “Lawrence can play with them.”

  When they looked in his direction, Lawrence mumbled something about taking the boat around the bay and ducked outside.

  “At home?” The boys made it sound as if I’d proposed to torture them.

  “Just for the afternoon.” Until it was time to catch the train.

  Julia looked as if she was going to kill me. Maybe the murder I ought to have been worried about was my own.

  “We could . . . play sardines!”

  My mother was adjusting her hat. “You can do what you want to. In any case, your father and I are expected at the club.”

  “And I’m going along with them.” Julia was already practically pushing them both out the door.

  “Sardines?” Marshall was looking at the door with longing. “But Auntie Ellis, it’s a great day for swimming.”

  “But I have to start packing so I’m ready to go back to the city tonight. Now, who’s going to hide?”

  The boys debated between themselves until they nearly came to blows.

  “I’ll hide.” Griff sent me a wink.

  “We’ll count to a hundred, then.”

  “By tens?” Marshall looked hopeful.

  “By ones. But . . . Griff hasn’t been here in a long time. Maybe we should count to five hundred instead.”

  “Five hundred?! I can’t count that high. We’ll be here forever!”

  I looked up at Griff. “Find someplace easy.”

  “No!” Marshall was indignant. “He’s supposed to make it really hard!”

  As I closed my eyes, I held a hand up to them, making sure there was a crack between my fingers so I could peek now and then. “One, two . . .”

  I wished I’d thought to sit down before I’d decided to count to five hundred. We’d had to start over twice so far. I wasn’t quite sure, but I thought Griff might have gone upstairs. I’d heard a creak or two out in the front hall.

  “Four hundred and ninety-four, four hundred and ninety-seven—”

  “It’s not four hundred and ninety-seven, it’s four hundred and ninety-four.” Marshall took after his mother. He was always quite certain he was right.

  “We already said four hundred . . . and . . . four.” And so did Henry.

  “We said that back a long time ago. Now it’s four hundred and ninety-five.”

  If I didn’t step in, we’d be counting to five hundred all day. “Four hundred and ninety-six.”

  They counted the rest of the way
along with me, then shouted five hundred in triumph. And only . . . I looked at the clock on the mantel . . . forty-five minutes after we’d begun.

  I clapped. “Go find him!”

  Henry started for the stairs, but Marshall stopped him. “He’s not upstairs.”

  “How would you know?” Henry asked with all the disdain of a four-year-old.

  “Because if he’d gone up the stairs, we’d have heard him. Come on, let’s go check in the kitchen.” They raced around the corner, leaving me in blessed peace . . . and with the question of where exactly Griff had disappeared to. I crept up the stairs, leaning heavily on the banister, stepping only on the side of the treads nearest the wall. And I skipped the fifth step completely.

  The hall was another matter.

  I slunk down the first five feet, then hopped from one side of the hall to the other to avoid creaks. I pushed open the door to the first bedroom with a finger.

  No Griff.

  I picked my way farther down the hall to Lawrence’s room. I crept inside, stooping to look under the bed. Then I opened the door to his wardrobe, pushing aside his shirts, running my hand along the back.

  Nothing.

  I went on to Julia’s room and bent to look under the bed. There was nowhere else to hide, so I turned to leave, but then I spied an old Eton sea captain’s locker. It had been a favorite hiding place back when Lawrence and I had been younger and the house had been filled with our friends. I remembered showing it to Griff one rainy summer day when we’d played cards all morning and had nothing else to do that afternoon but play sardines. Back then, we’d both been much smaller. But maybe . . . I tiptoed over and threw up the lid.

  He smiled up at me. “What took you so long?”

  “They’re never going to find you here.”

  “I don’t care if they find me. I was hoping you’d find me.” He shifted, stretching his legs out over the side of the chest, making room for me. Then he held up a hand. “Come on in.”

  I sat beside him, tucking my skirt around my knees and then leaning back against the chest and hooking my legs over the side too.