To Find Her Place

Home > Historical > To Find Her Place > Page 24
To Find Her Place Page 24

by Susan Anne Mason


  He reached over and pulled his mother’s trembling frame into a hug. It struck him then that she seemed frailer than he’d always thought. “I ended up fine. Jack will too.”

  Another gust of wind blew Mom’s dress about her knees, molding it to her frame. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go inside and talk some more.”

  She sniffed. “Yes. I want to know what’s brought you all the way out here in the middle of the week.”

  A few minutes later, Garrett had a pot of coffee brewing on the stove while Mom got out the cookie tin. Oatmeal raisin, his favorite. But today he had no appetite for them.

  “Where’s Dad?”

  “In the orchard, clearing out the rest of the apples.”

  “I’ll go help him after my coffee.”

  “He’ll appreciate that.”

  Garrett poured the coffees and carried them to the table, carefully moving the broken teapot to the counter.

  “So, what’s going on?” Mom took her chair. “You didn’t lose your job, did you?”

  “No.”

  “Then what upset you enough to come home?”

  He shrugged, avoiding her eyes. “Jane resigned this morning.”

  His mother gasped. “What? Why would she do that? She told me how much she loves her work.”

  Garrett tried to keep his tone light but knew full well his mom would see right through him. “Her ex-husband came back from overseas, and they’ve decided to attempt a reconciliation.” The words scraped across his tongue like a rusty blade.

  But it was his heart that bled.

  “Oh no.” Mom reached over to lay her hand on his arm. “I thought the two of you were . . . I mean, Jane seemed to really care about you. And you seemed to care a lot about her.”

  “I do.” He stared at the brown liquid in his mug. “But Donald is a widower now, with a baby boy to consider.”

  “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”

  His throat seized up, and he swallowed hard. “I had to get out of the office. I’ll schedule off-site meetings for the next few days until she’s gone.”

  “Did you tell Jane how you feel about her?”

  He shook his head. “It wouldn’t have been fair. Not with my health situation. She’s better off with Donald and his baby. Jane’s wanted a child for a long time now. I have to try to be happy for her.”

  “Oh, Garrett. You deserve love and a family too.” She sighed heavily as tears sprang to her eyes. “All the more reason you should push to get a specialist appointment. Maybe a new doctor could offer you fresh hope.”

  He shook his head again and rose. A specialist couldn’t change the position of the shrapnel pieces. Or suddenly be able to operate when others had told him it was too dangerous. “I’d better go help Dad.”

  At least then he wouldn’t have to see the pity in his mother’s eyes.

  30

  Jane, this is Mrs. Hedley, my son’s nanny. Mrs. Hedley, this is Jane, my former wife.”

  Standing in the makeshift nursery in Donald’s apartment, Jane smiled at the plump woman who she gauged to be in her early sixties. She wore a standard white apron over her dress, thick stockings, and sturdy shoes. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Hedley.”

  “Likewise.” She scrutinized Jane from head to toe. “I understand you’re going to be Patrick’s new nanny.”

  Jane hesitated, not sure exactly what Donald had told the woman. “That’s right.”

  Donald moved closer to the crib. “Jane is eager to learn all she can from you before you head back home, Mrs. Hedley.”

  “I’m happy to help, sir. You know how much I adore little Patrick.”

  “I do indeed.”

  “If it weren’t for my dear sister back home, I’d consider staying here with you.” She shot Jane a wary look.

  Jane couldn’t blame the woman for her mistrust. After all, it was an incredibly unusual situation. “I promise I’ll take the best care possible of Patrick.”

  The woman sniffed. “You will after I teach you all you need to know.”

  Donald seemed to sag with relief. “Could I have a few minutes alone with Jane and the baby, please?”

  “Certainly, sir.”

  The woman left the room and right away there seemed to be more air circulating.

  Donald shrugged. “She means well. She’s just a little overprotective when it comes to Patrick.”

  “I understand.” Jane peered over the rail, eager for a closer look at the precious baby. Her heart fairly melted as she gazed at him. The boy slept on his back with his hands flung out to the sides, a knitted blue blanket covering his body. Fair lashes matched the tufts of hair on his head. “He’s adorable, Donald. He looks a lot like you.”

  Donald beamed. “Thank you.” He reached into the crib and tenderly picked the boy up, laying him in the crook of his arm. “This little tyke has been through a lot in his short life. But I’m determined he won’t suffer any more. That he’ll have a mother who will love him as much as Moira did.”

  Almost as though the mention of his mother’s name summoned him awake, little Patrick blinked and opened his eyes. Gray eyes just like Donald’s stared back at Jane with such innocence that a sudden rise of emotion clogged her throat. This is what their son would have looked like. Jane swallowed and pushed her grief back where it belonged to focus on the child in front of her.

  Staring at Jane, his little face crumpled, and he let out a whimper.

  “Shh, it’s all right,” Donald crooned. “Daddy’s here.”

  The boy instantly quieted, and his eyes drifted closed again.

  Donald swayed with the boy in his arms. “He usually sleeps through the night, but right now his schedule is a little mixed up. I should have realized that when I invited you over.”

  “The poor thing. His whole world has turned upside down.” Jane couldn’t resist reaching out to smooth down a lock of wispy hair.

  Donald eased the child back into the bed and repositioned the blanket. “He should sleep for several hours now. Would you like to come with me to the market before it closes? I have to pick up a few groceries.”

  Jane hesitated. She’d hoped to have longer with Patrick, but since that wasn’t the case, the least she could do was spend time with the man she was considering remarrying. “That would be nice.”

  They left the door ajar and crossed a short hall to the living room, furnished with a rather worn brown couch and two armchairs. Mrs. Hedley came in from the kitchen with a cup in her hand.

  “Jane and I are going to the market. Is there anything more you need, Mrs. Hedley?” Donald asked.

  “I think everything is on the list I gave you. Do you have your food stamps?”

  “I do. Thanks.” He patted his jacket pocket. “We won’t be too long.”

  The woman nodded. “Good night, Mrs. Linder.”

  For the first time, Jane’s name jarred her. She still bore Donald’s surname, which must seem odd to the woman.

  By the front door, Donald helped Jane into her coat.

  “Where does Mrs. Hedley sleep?” Jane asked as she tied a kerchief under her chin.

  “On a cot in Patrick’s room,” he said. “I wasn’t able to find a three-bedroom flat on such short notice. But it’s only for a couple of weeks.”

  They descended the stairs to the street below. Though it was just after five o’clock, the sun had started its descent, casting a golden hue over the sidewalk. She’d left work a little early to come straight over to the apartment.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask how Brandon is doing,” Donald said as they made their way past several shops. “I assume from what you said that he enlisted?”

  “He did. About a week after you.” Jane swallowed back another rush of sadness. Right after her husband deserted her, the only other male in her life had abandoned her too. Deep down, she understood it wasn’t personal and was proud of Brandon’s desire to defend their country, but at the time, it had only compounded her depression. “Sadly, Brandon’s been declared missing
in action. We haven’t heard anything in weeks.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jane. That’s tough.” Donald’s mouth turned grim. “I’m lucky my injury was only minor. Enough to get me away from the front line for a while.”

  “Mama is convinced Brandon will come home to us. But I’m not so sure. Still, I have to let Mama stay optimistic until we hear anything definite.” She pulled her coat tighter at her neck. “What about your brother? How is he doing?”

  “Last I heard, Peter was fine, though it’s been some time now since I’ve had a letter. Probably because he hasn’t gotten word that I’m back in Canada.”

  Jane nodded. “I’ll add him to my nightly prayers. If only this war would end. It’s been dragging on far too long.”

  They entered the crowded grocery store, where Jane’s senses were bombarded by the pungent aromas of garlic and onions and coffee beans.

  Donald pulled a list from his pocket. As he picked out the items he needed, Jane couldn’t shake the somber mood that had come over her with the talk of war. Sometimes it was better to avoid the newspapers and radio broadcasts and pretend that nothing was amiss in the world.

  But then again, that was only avoiding reality.

  When Donald had paid for his groceries and they’d retraced their steps back to his building, Jane hesitated at the entrance. The thought of going back up to the apartment had lost its appeal, knowing that the baby would be asleep. “I hope you don’t mind, but I think I’ll catch a bus home. Mama will be waiting for me.”

  Donald switched the brown bag to his left arm. “If you wait for me to put these things away, I can escort you.”

  She took a step back. “Thanks, but there’s no need. I take the bus alone all the time.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “Positive.” She forced a tight smile.

  “Then I guess I’ll bid you good night.” He leaned toward her, and his lips grazed her cheek.

  The familiar scent of his aftershave swirled around her, bringing with it a host of unbidden memories. As soon as she could politely do so, she stepped away from him. “Good night, Donald.”

  “Good night. I hope to see you soon. Perhaps I can meet Martin this weekend?” His fair brows rose over hopeful eyes.

  She forced back the tide of uncertainty racing through her. Donald was making an effort. She needed to do the same. “I’d like that. I’ll see if I can make the arrangements tomorrow.”

  Garrett paced the conference room where he awaited several of the board members. He’d been summoned to their location almost as soon as he reached the office and, being painfully aware of Jane’s presence down the hall, had been only too glad to make his escape and avoid her.

  Did that make him a coward? Probably. But he liked to think it was for her benefit as well, making her last days at work more comfortable.

  Mr. Fenmore and Mr. Warren, along with seven other members, entered the room, followed by the woman who took the minutes. Mr. Fenmore shook Garrett’s hand and indicated for him to take a seat.

  Mr. Fenmore called the meeting to order. “All the members couldn’t make it today, but we have enough for a quorum. Let’s get started, shall we? This shouldn’t take long.”

  Garrett willed his heart rate to settle. Would they be ready to announce the new director already?

  “Due to Mrs. Linder’s recent resignation, the board has come to a decision. As a result of the good work we’ve seen from you so far, Mr. Wilder, we’d like to appoint you as interim director until such time that we make our final decision.”

  A bead of disappointment ran through him. But what did he expect? That they would forgo any other potential candidates and hand him the position on a silver platter? Hopefully, being the interim director would give him a longer opportunity to prove his merit.

  Garrett cleared his throat. “Thank you very much. I graciously accept your offer.”

  “Excellent.” Mr. Fenmore beamed. “Now, as to the matter of your salary.” He swept his arm toward Mr. Warren, who nodded.

  “We are prepared to increase your salary to the level of acting director.” He named a figure that made Garrett’s heart thump. “Is this acceptable?”

  “It’s more than generous. Thank you.”

  That amount would go a long way to help cover any loss the farm had sustained with the less-than-successful apple season.

  Mr. Fenmore congratulated him with a hearty handshake, and Garrett forced a smile to accompany his enthusiastic acceptance. This was one big step closer to the goal he’d been working toward. So, why did a hole remain in the pit of his stomach?

  Instead of taking the streetcar back to the office, he decided to walk. He had a few things to work out about the way he wanted to move forward in his new position. As interim director, he couldn’t make many permanent changes, but he could act on the outstanding matters at hand. The first and most pressing one being to choose a foster family for Martin.

  Garrett had spoken with Mrs. Blackwood the other day and promised her an answer by the end of the week. That, on top of Cassie’s reluctance to keep the boy at the farm, had sealed his decision. He pushed aside a twinge of guilt, knowing Jane wouldn’t agree. But then Jane was no longer part of the process since today was her last day, and he had to make the decision he felt was best.

  Still, he owed it to her to at least let her know what he’d decided.

  As soon as he reached his office, he set down his briefcase and, steeling himself for the upcoming conversation, headed down the hall to Jane’s office. He knocked on her closed door and waited, but there was no response. When he tried her door, he found it unlocked. However, when he peered inside, Jane wasn’t there. Perhaps she’d gone over to the shelter to say her good-byes.

  Somewhat relieved, he went back to his office and picked up the telephone. He placed the happy phone call first, making arrangements with the Blackwoods to deliver Martin to them on Monday morning. Then he called the Jeffersons to relay the news that they’d chosen a different family for Martin. He thanked them for their time and promised to keep them in mind for another child in need of placement.

  Pleased with their easy acceptance of his decision, Garrett jotted a note on his pad to make a more thorough study of the children still at the shelter and determine why Jane hadn’t placed one of them with the Jeffersons. If foster families were in such short supply, the least they could do was make use of the ones they did have available.

  A knock at the door brought Garrett’s attention back to his cluttered desk. “Come in.”

  The door opened and Jane stepped in, her presence drawing the very air from the room. “I hear congratulations are in order,” she said. “Mr. Fenmore just called to relay the news.”

  “Thank you. It’s only an interim post, but I’m hopeful it will lead to something permanent.” He didn’t know what else to say. How hard must it be for her to leave her job and hand it over to him? But maybe now she had a different goal to look forward to.

  She hesitated, then came a few steps closer. “I have a favor to ask.”

  He laid down his pen. “What is it?”

  “I’d like to bring Martin into the city this weekend to meet Donald. However, I’m not sure the best way to go about it.”

  Tingles of suspicion traveled up his spine. “Why would you want to do that?”

  She twisted her hands in front of her, then squared her shoulders. “If Donald and I decide to remarry, I intend to adopt Martin. But Donald wants to get to know him first.”

  The floor seemed to drop out from beneath him. Whatever happened to Donald not wanting to adopt? Garrett dragged a hand across his jaw. “That might pose a bit of a problem.”

  “I know it’s hard being so far out in the country. Donald doesn’t own a car yet, so we can’t go there to get him.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” He forced himself to remain professional. “I’ve just informed the Blackwoods that I’ll be placing Martin with them as of Monday.”

  Her mouth fell ope
n, and she grasped the back of the chair in front of her. “What?”

  “I stopped by to let you know, but you weren’t in your office. I figured there was no point in putting it off any longer.” He glanced at her stricken face, his resolve slipping a notch. “Maybe I could bring Martin to your house on Sunday. He could stay with you overnight before I take him to the Blackwoods. It would give you and Donald the afternoon and evening with him.”

  She blinked several times. “I suppose that would work.” But she crossed her arms, not appearing any happier. “So, you decided on the Blackwoods after all?”

  “I did.” They’d already been over the reasons he felt they were preferable to the Jeffersons, so he wouldn’t justify his decision to her. But he could offer her a crumb of hope. “You still might be able to adopt Martin down the road if that’s what you decide,” he said. “I don’t think the Blackwoods will adopt him straightaway. They seem adamant about only wanting an infant.”

  “But it would mean moving him again.” Jane shook her head. “He was just getting used to the farm. I was hoping your parents could keep him a few more months. Would that be possible?”

  A few months? His chest tightened. Was that how little time she intended to wait until she remarried Donald?

  “I’m afraid things aren’t going as well as we thought.” He frowned, tapping his pen on the desktop. “I just found out that Martin has been creating problems. Cassie is worried about the influence he’s having on Kevin and Dale. It’s causing a considerable strain on the household.” He dared to look at her then, a mistake on his part. His heart cinched at the agony in her eyes, twin pools shimmering with moisture.

  “Cassie’s even more on edge lately since she got word Jack has been injured. She can’t really cope with the added stress.” He deserved the guilt he felt now. After all, it had been his idea to bring Martin to the farm. He let out a slow breath. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way we’d hoped.”

  “It’s not your fault,” she said at last. Then she stared at him, unspoken regret clouding the air between them. “We tried our best. I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

 

‹ Prev