My hands were twisting before me and Frankie lifted his own to mine, stilling them.
I wanted to be closer to him. I needed to be closer to him. It was as if there was a string tied around me, pulling my closer to him until we were inches apart.
Then, neither one of us saying a word, my hand reached out and caught the front of Frankie’s coat as if it had a mind of its own. My fingers curled around the thick fabric and I pulled him closer.
Frankie’s eyes were on mine now and his mouth was open slightly, his breath coming out in quick, shallow gasps.
His head dipped lower and I could feel his warm breath fanning across my face.
The space between us was nonexistent now, my hand still clutching the front of Frankie’s coat, caught between our two bodies.
His head dropped lower and his lips just barely brushed over mine, as if asking permission, and my breath caught.
Cupping my face in his hand, Frankie leaned closer and I stood on my toes to meet him in the middle.
It felt as though my heart was going to burst from my chest. My mind was racing but my body was paralyzed as Frankie deepened the kiss. His hand drifted from my cheek to curl into my hair, keeping me in place.
A car nearby backfired suddenly and Frankie and I sprang apart, each gasping for breath.
My face felt warm as I dropped my gaze to the ground.
I wanted to pull him back in, but instead, he stepped further away. His hands were deep in his coat pockets now and it made me feel strangely cold and empty, watching him put as much distance between us as he could.
“Goodnight, Hazel,” he said abruptly.
I made to step towards him, but he offered me a smile before turning on his heel and striding away.
Biting my lower lip, I watched until he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight before making my way up the front door and slipping quietly inside.
When the door closed behind me and my coat was off, I felt a silly grin spread across my face and I lifted my fingers to lips, tracing them.
Never could I have imagined a more perfect first kiss than that, I thought before climbing the stairs to bed.
Chapter 7
“Yer in an awfully cheerful mood this mornin’,” Danielle observed as she opened the curtains, letting in the bright morning sunlight.
I had been sitting on the edge of my bed, smiling widely to myself as I remembered the night before when she walked in, freshly laundered linens for my bed in hand.
“Well, I had a wonderful evening.” I stretched and got to my feet, striding to my wardrobe while Danielle went behind me and started making my bed.
“And ye got in late,” she went on.
I peered over my shoulder at her. “So I did.”
I worried for a moment that she would tell my mother and then that would be the last time I would ever see Frankie, but then she sighed, pausing in the act of putting on fresh sheets.
“Miss Hazel, I ken yer a young lass wantin’ tae get into some mischief before ye settle down,” Danielle said, voice low as she resumed making my bed afresh, “but sneakin’ round wi’ a young man is no a good idea.”
I laughed a little. “No one’s sneaking, Danielle,” I assured her, turning back to my wardrobe. I pulled out a pale blue frock with a pattern of dark blue flowers on it, looked it over, then put it back, still undecided. “I see him often and out in public. See? Nothing secretive about it.”
Danielle inhaled deeply and I faced her, a wide grin on my face.
She let out her breath with a small shake of her head and went back to making my bed.
As I pulled out a dusty rose colored skirt, I said, “He’s absolutely wonderful, Danielle. Perhaps I’ll bring him by so you can meet him.”
“I think Mrs. MacClare ought tae meet him first, ye ken.”
“Maybe.” I lifted my shoulders in nonchalance. “But I see you far more than I see my own mother these days.”
Pulling out a tan and cream colored dress, I held it out to Danielle, who took it from me and helped me into it.
“Yer mother is, ah, busy these days,” Danielle said delicately.
Turning, I searched Danielle’s face, as if it would tell me the truth. But when I found nothing, I turned back around, saying, “What do you mean?”
“She’s just busy, Miss Hazel, that’s all.” Danielle placed her hands briefly on my shoulders, indicating that she was finished, then stepped away.
“But what could my mother possibly be busy with?’ I wondered, settling down before the mirror and picking up my brush, but I didn’t do anything with it. I was too busy watching Danielle tidying up in the reflection of the mirror. “Mama doesn’t do much of anything except attend society events.”
Danielle didn’t say a word, so I went on.
“The only reason Mama would be busy was if she had some big charity event coming up, which she doesn’t,” I added, trying to catch Danielle’s eye through the mirror, but she was now studiously ignoring me. Frustrated, I began pulling the brush roughly through my hair as I kept trying to get information from her. “Or maybe she’s seeing someone?”
Danielle jerked a little at my words then quickly stooped to pick up my discarded pajamas in an effort to disguise it.
Shooting to my feet, my brush extended out in a motion like I was accusing her of something, I said, “So that’s it? Mama’s seeing someone? Who?”
But Danielle shook her head. “I won’t say a word, Miss Hazel. Don’t ask me nothin’ else.” She finally looked at me, face desperate. “Please.”
“Fine.” I sat back down, my heart and mind racing. My hand was trembling as I continued to brush out my hair. “But Mama will tell me eventually if it’s serious enough.”
“Believe me, Miss Hazel,” Danielle said quietly as she made for the bedroom door. We met gazes in the mirror. “It’s serious.”
And then she was gone, her footsteps echoing down the stairs as I struggled to wrap my mind around it all.
Though I spent very little time at home, I knew Mama had been absent nearly as much as I had been. But I had put it down to her going to dinner parties since I wasn’t home to give her company.
Who could it be? I wondered an hour later as I made my way to Central Park to meet Frankie. Mama knew a great many eligible men, men with vast fortunes and a great deal of power.
But as I stepped into the park, I pushed all thoughts of Mama and her potential lover from my mind. No one mattered today except Frankie, I reminded myself as I spotted him near the pond.
His back was to me, watching the ducks splash and dive, their babies paddling happily around them.
As I approached, he turned and, spotting, broke into a wide grin.
“Hello,” I said, somewhat shyly when I reached him. The memory of the night before was fresh in my mind and I felt the heat creep into my cheeks as I thought about it.
“Hello,” Frankie greeted, looking equally awkward now. He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes on passersby.
Without letting myself think about it, I reached out and took his free hand in mine, taking him by surprise. But he didn’t pull himself free. Instead, he tightened his grip around my hand and, with only a slight tug, started off through the park.
“I love spring,” I said after a while as we passed under a tree filled to bursting with what looked robins, all of them chirping loudly. “I love feeling warm after a cold winter. Well, that and it’s my birthday soon,” I added with a grin.
Frankie raised his eyebrows. “Oh?” he asked. “When is it? I’ll have to get you something.”
I flushed with pleasure, but said, “You don’t have to get me anything.”
“No,” he agreed with a grin, “but I want to.”
Touched, I squeezed his hand tighter and he returned the pressure. I moved closer to him so that our arms were touching now.
“When is it?” he asked again.
“The fifteenth of April,” I replied.
Frankie nodded once and swallo
wed hard. I felt as though he wanted to tell me something, but I didn’t press him. He would tell me if—and when—he wanted to.
Instead, I asked, “When’s your birthday? I need to know so I can start thinking of things to get you.”
He laughed though he looked slightly embarrassed. “It’s the twentieth of August,” he replied. “But you don’t have to get me a thing.”
“No, but I want to,” I said, echoing him and he smiled a genuine smile.
We walked in comfortable silence for a while until I said, “What are your parents like?”
Frankie tilted his head to the side, clearly thinking. Finally, he said, “Well, Mam’s a bit of a tough nut. She’s stern but she’s also kind. And she’s gone through a lot since we came to America.”
“And your father?” I wondered. I hadn’t ever heard Frankie mention him and now I was wondering if perhaps I shouldn’t have. He stared straight ahead and I saw the muscle in his jaw clenching. Quickly, I added, “Sorry. I just... you’ve never mentioned him before.”
“He died,” Frankie said bluntly. “Years ago.”
“Oh.” I looked away, uncomfortable. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Mam doesn’t like to talk about him much,” Frankie told me.
“Did it... end badly?” I wondered.
Frankie shook his head. “Nah. It’s just hard for her. For all of us, really.”
“Can I ask why?”
Looking down at me, he stopped and so did I, looking up at him with the sun behind him. I had to squint a little to see his face.
“He was crossing the Atlantic to come back after Mam wouldn’t budge from Ireland,” Frankie said. His eyes dropped to our joined hands. “Mam didn’t want to leave. She thought that, even though it was hard back home, it was better to stay where we knew everyone. We knew who we could trust and our neighbors could trust us. But Da wanted to come to America, to see what all the fuss was about. He got a job in a factory and would send some money back to us and, with it, a letter talking about how great New York City was. He tried for years to convince Mam to come here.
“But Mam needed more convincing,” Frankie went on, lifting his gaze and starting down the path again, pulling me gently along with him. “So Da came back. Mam finally agreed, but she needed to sell everything and Da needed to get back because he couldn’t be out of work for too long. He had lied and said there had been a death in the family, but before Da could come back, there was some coal strike and all the ships sailing were docked. Except one.”
Frankie went quiet for a moment and I looked up at him expectantly.
“He was so excited to sail on that ship,” Frankie said quietly. “He got on at Queenstown and promised he’d tell us all about it when we got there.”
Realization dawned on me and I took his hand in both of mine.
“Oh, Frankie,” I said softly.
“He didn’t make it,” he said and I let him go. “Most of the third class didn’t, you know. And they never found his body, either. We had nothing to bury. But Mam couldn’t stay in Ireland—we had sold everything and the tickets were bought. We were supposed to follow Da a week later.”
“I remember that morning,” I said quietly. “I wasn’t very old, of course, but I remember it. Mama hadn’t come to wake me and so I went downstairs, ready to throw a fit, but then I saw her and Papa staring at a newspaper. They didn’t even look up when I walked into the room. I even stamped my foot and wailed and everything.” I chuckled softly at the memory. “It was my birthday and I thought they had forgotten. But then I heard Papa tell Mama that a great many of their friends had been on the ship. Mama knew Madeleine Astor—and sometimes still talks about her. Mama felt sorry for her. Married and widowed within a year.”
“Well, Mam got on that ship a week later and we came to the place my Da had bought,” Frankie told me. “Liam went to work as soon as he could and Mam became a laundress.”
I looked down at the ground, watching my feet kick pebbles.
When Papa had died, Mama and I hadn’t been put in any situation where she would have had to work. Papa had been smart with his money and we were able to live comfortably. I would even get a great sum when I married. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to come to a foreign place knowing no one and having nothing to your name and having to build from the ground up.
I didn’t know what to say to him. I didn’t know how to tell him how sorry I was that he had had to go through something like at such a young age. I didn’t know how to tell him how sorry I was that he had lost his father in such a terrible way.
Instead I took one of his hands back and drew close, hoping that he understood.
“And how are things now?” I asked quietly.
“Mam stays home now,” Frankie said, sounding proud. “My brothers and I work so Mam doesn’t have to.” Then he sighed. “But Liam wants to marry Emilia, so it’ll be tough once he goes.”
“But she has to accept,” I reminded him with a half-smile.
“I think she will.”
Frankie cleared his throat then and asked, “Have you told your mam yet about you wanting out of the concert?”
I shook my head, pulling away slightly but still keeping his hand in mine.
“I don’t know how to tell her,” I confessed. “Well, that and I never see her.”
“Maybe you should be spending less time at clubs and more time at home,” he said with a laugh, but I shook my head.
“Even when I am home, Mama’s not,” I said. “Danielle—our maid—said Mama’s being seeing someone. I doubt I know him and if I do, then I’ve probably only seen him across a table at dinner or something.” I sighed then added, “How can I tell my mother I’ve changed?”
Frankie lifted his free hand to tug gently at the ends of my hair, pulling a smile to my lips.
“I think she knows,” he said gently.
I sighed again and Frankie dropped his hand back to his side.
“Maybe,” I said, “but I doubt she knows just how much.”
Spotting a bench, I pulled my hand free from Frankie’s and made my way over to it with him following close behind.
I placed my hands firmly in my lap, still squinting against the bright sunlight as Frankie sat beside me. Turning to face him, I said, “It’ll be like admitting defeat, won’t it? Me telling Mama that I don’t want to do the concert? She never really liked the idea of me doing it in the first place and it’ll almost be like I’m proving her right.”
“She’s your mam,” Frankie said with a small shrug. “She’ll want what you want.”
I laughed bitterly at that. “You don’t know my mother. Sure, she humored me with the concerts and all, but...” I sighed, trailing off. Then I let my shoulders rise and fall in a small shrug. “Ever since Mimi took me out to the Golden Sparrow, something in me has changed. I used to think that playing in front of people was something I would always want to do. But she brought me into this whole other world that’s full of life. It’s like she helped me breathe or something.”
My cheeks flushed as I realized what I was saying and I quickly stopped talking, shifting my body away from his and turning to look down the path at the people walking by.
But then I heard the faint notes of his band playing in my head, could feel the memory of the itch of a dress against my skin and my heart swelled inexplicably.
“I love it, Frankie,” I said quietly. “I love the music, the dancing”—I glanced shyly at him—“the partners.”
Frankie turned pink but otherwise stayed silent, his green eyes on mine.
The sun drifted behind a large cloud and I shivered as all the warmth went with it.
“I think you should do what’s best for you,” Frankie said after a moment. He leaned back on the bench, stretching his long legs out before him. “If you don’t want to be at Carnegie Hall, the don’t go.”
I snorted. “It isn’t that simple,” I said with a shake of my head. “And going to speakeasies every week i
sn’t what’s best for me.”
“But it’s fun,” Frankie said, laughing and I nudged him playfully.
I had time, I reminded myself as the sun came back out, warming my skin. I didn’t need to decide just then what it was I wanted to do or who I wanted to be. I could just simply take each day as they came to me. I was in no rush to be anything or do anything. I could sit in front of the piano and play all day if I wanted or I could read or even go to the pictures. The possibilities were endless.
“Come on,” I said to Frankie, pulling him to his feet. “There’s this great cafe near Times Square that you’ll like.”
We had only just started down the path when I heard my name being called and turned to see Florence striding quickly towards me.
Frankie released me the second Florence reached us and I instantly snatched his hand back.
The motion wasn’t missed by Florence, who I could see was judging Frankie for his worn jacket and cheap trousers. But then she looked to me, a broad smile on her face.
“Goodness, it’s been such a long time since I last saw you,” she lamented. I spied Jacob Hunt walking up at a much slower pace, a disdainful expression on his face as he spotted Frankie. “You never came to dinner and I had something rather important to tell you.”
I shifted on my feet, my hand tightening slightly around Frankie’s, who I could feel trying to pull himself free.
Shrugging, I said, “Well, I was busy.”
“Yes, going to speakeasies must be exhausting,” Florence said breezily and I felt my expression harden. “Anyways, I stopped by your house, but your maid said you’d gone out. I’ve got something to give you.”
She produced an envelope from her jacket and handed it to me.
“And there’s also something else I need to tell you,” she went on as I took the proffered envelope.
“Alright, then.” I stuffed the envelope unceremoniously into my jacket pocket and looked at her expectantly. “What is it?”
It wasn’t just me who had changed, I thought as Florence glanced once more at Frankie as Jacob put an arm possessively around her waist. Florence had as well. Being engaged had changed her.
The Golden Sparrow Page 10