Saturday, July 15, 1893
I was packing the last of my things on Saturday morning when I remembered the journal I’d stuffed beneath the mattress. I took a moment to leaf through the record of my time in Chicago and paused when I found my entry from June twentieth.
I had written Mysteries to Solve on the top of the page. I had
arrived in town with two of them and had added several more. Now
that I was going home, it surprised me to see how many of them I
could cross off.
1. Why did Mother leave us? Where is she?
2. Did Maude O’Neill murder her first husband? How can I stop the wedding?
3. Why did Father change from being one of Mr. Moody’s Yokefellows to being indifferent about religion?
4. Why are Grandmother and Father estranged? What were the “sorrows” she mentioned in her life with my grandfather? Why won’t Father let her talk about my mother?
5. Was Aunt Matt’s fiancé, Robert Tucker, really a thief, or was Aunt Birdie simply rambling? Did Mr. Tucker get caught? Is he in prison?
6. Does Nelson Kent really love Katya, or is he using her? Is he using me?
7. And speaking of being used—is
Silas McClure using me, or does he truly have feelings for
me?
The last question brought tears to my eyes. Silas was the only man I’d met this summer who had truly loved me. And I loved him. I dried my eyes with his handkerchief, which still bore his faint scent. I finished packing my trunk, then went downstairs to wait for my father. I had just reached the foyer when Aunt Agnes burst through our front door without even knocking.
“Violet! Oh, you poor dear,” she said breathlessly. “You had better sit down. I’m afraid you’re in for a terrible, terrible shock.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I have scandalous news. Outrageous news! Nelson Kent eloped with his grandmother’s serving girl last night!”
“Good for him.” I couldn’t help smiling.
Aunt Agnes gripped my shoulders. “But, my dear, aren’t you positively heartbroken? He proposed marriage to you!”
“And I turned him down. He’s in love with that serving girl, Aunt Agnes, and I’m thrilled for both of them. I hope they figure out a way to make it work.”
“Oh, my dear,” she moaned as she pulled me into her arms. “You must be in shock. I’m sure the truth hasn’t sunk in yet. I feel so bad for dragging you into this mess.”
“You don’t have to feel bad at all.” A giggle escaped from my lips, and Agnes pulled away to stare at me.
“I knew you’d be upset,” she said. “You’re hysterical!”
“I’m not. Please believe me, Aunt Agnes. I know all about Nelson and Katya. I loaned her the gown she eloped in.”
Agnes pulled a collapsible fan from her handbag and flicked it open. She fanned herself vigorously, causing the papers on the hall table to flutter in the breeze.
“Oh, Violet, I’m so sorry.”
“Listen, I had a good time with you and your friends. I learned a lot. You helped me decide some things in my life.”
“I’m acquainted with plenty of other young men from good families. I could make introductions for you.”
I smiled, wondering what she would think of the nickname I’d given them: pea pods. “I have to go home today, Aunt Agnes. But who knows? Maybe I’ll visit Chicago again someday.”
“What’s all the fuss?” Aunt Matt asked as she marched out from the kitchen. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve come with dreadful news,” Agnes said. “Violet’s beau eloped with another woman!”
“He wasn’t my beau—”
“Oh, is that all?” Matt asked. “Will you be staying for lunch, Agnes?”
“Not today. I must go and comfort my dear, dear friend, Sadie Kent. She is simply devastated that her Nelson would do such a thing and run off that way. The family is worried sick about a breach of promise suit, so I offered to come over and talk with you, Violet.” She sniffled as Aunt Matt stomped back to the kitchen, shaking her head.
“I’m not going to sue anyone, Aunt Agnes. I never accepted Nelson’s proposal.”
“Oh, thank goodness. The Kents will be so relieved. Disappointed, mind you, but relieved to know they won’t face a lawsuit. I’d better go and tell them right away. Au revoir, my dear. And give my apologies to your father. I’m afraid I’ve failed him miserably.”
I watched Aunt Agnes hurry away to comfort Mrs. Kent and realized that while many things in her life were superficial, the friendships she shared with the other women were not. There was a solidarity in their lives that I had experienced only at school with Ruth Schultz. I no longer wanted a life like Aunt Agnes’, but I admired her a great deal. She had taken her sorrows and tragedies and allowed good to come from them, just as Grandmother had advised me to do.
I went into the parlor and found Aunt Birdie seated on the sofa, reading a letter from Gilbert. I could tell by the faded ink and tissuethin paper that it was many, many years old. I still hoped she would forget that Gilbert was dead, but for now she had found comfort in his letters. She looked up when she saw me and smiled through her tears.
“Your young man was right, Violet. I hear Gilbert speaking to me.”
I couldn’t reply around the lump in my throat. She had referred to Silas as “my young man.” I wondered how long it would take for me to forget him. Did people ever find true love more than once in a lifetime? Birdie and Aunt Matt never had. I hoped I would.
I heard my grandmother puttering around in the kitchen with Aunt Matt, fixing lunch, and I wandered out to talk with her. She stood at the kitchen stove, stirring a pot, and I slipped into place beside her.
“I hope you aren’t too disappointed that things didn’t work out for Louis Decker and me.”
She circled her arm around my waist and laid her head against my shoulder. “Not at all, my dear. You would make a dreadful minister’s wife. You’re much too high-spirited and unconventional. There are people in the church, I’m sorry to say, who would try to put you into a mold and squeeze your wonderful imagination right out of you. God has a purpose for your life. You would be wrong to marry Louis for my sake.”
“And there is much more to life than getting married,” Aunt Matt added. “But if you do get married, Violet, make sure you and your husband want the same things in life.”
“I know. I want to do something useful with my life, the way both of you do. I’m just not sure what that will be. I’ll never forget all those wonderful displays you showed me at the Woman’s Pavilion, Aunt Matt. You really inspired me. You both did.”
Father arrived in time for lunch. I listened as he chatted with Grandmother at the dining room table, and it seemed to me that they had reconciled a bit. He kissed her cheek when it was time to go.
“Good-bye, Mother,” he said. “I trust I’ll see you in Lockport for the wedding?”
“Of course, dear. And don’t be a stranger, John. Bring Violet back to see us once in a while. We love her dearly, you know.”
We all wept as I said good-bye. Even Aunt Matt brushed a tear from her eye. Father finally pried me out of Aunt Birdie’s arms and towed me out to the waiting carriage, grumbling about missing our train. We chugged away from Union Station an hour later, but my tears didn’t stop falling until we reached the outskirts of the city.
We would be back in Lockport in another hour, so I drew a deep breath to gain control of my emotions. I still had a few things that I needed to discuss with my father. He was engrossed in the newspaper he had purchased from one of the street urchins at the train station, but I cleared my throat, signaling for his attention.
“I know why Grandmother came to Chicago after her husband died,” I began. “And I know why she didn’t come to live with us.” He folded his newspaper and laid it aside, frowning.
“It was because your Aunt Bertha—”
“No. She came here to search for Mother.”
His frown deepened. “Did she tell you that?”
“Yes. She started working in all of those poor areas so she could look for Mother and convince her to come home to us.”
“She promised me that she wouldn’t talk to you about your mother.”
“And she didn’t break that promise. I learned everything on my own. I came to Chicago to find Mother too.”
“You what?”
“That was the real reason I asked to visit the city—not to see the fair. I needed to know why she left me.”
“Violet, I already told you—”
“I found her. And now I know exactly why she left. I know the truth about her past—that her family were gypsies and that she worked in a burlesque theater.”
He closed his eyes.When he finally opened them again, he gazed out of the window not at me. “How is she?” he asked quietly.
“Still beautiful.”
He nodded silently.
“Mother told me the whole story, her side of it. She didn’t go away because she was discontented with you. She left because she loved you. Your father told her that the reason her babies died was because God was punishing her. She didn’t want anything bad to happen to us because of her. Then her brothers found her and threatened to expose her past to all of Lockport if Grandfather didn’t pay them money. She was afraid the scandal would ruin you and me. So she left.”
Father’s lips drew into a tight, angry line. “So it wasn’t just Philip who my father destroyed.”
“I know how strict your father was and how he made your brother run away. But I would like to hear your side of the story. All of it. Starting with the night of the fire when you and Mother met.”
He was silent for so long that I began to believe he wouldn’t speak. But at last he started talking, hesitantly at first. His voice was very soft.
“I was in Chicago that night with Philip. I found him in the saloon that he and Lloyd O’Neill ran together. Philip wanted to become an actor, and he enjoyed the theater and all of those other vices that our father railed against. I made a deal with Philip to come to Dwight Moody’s church with me—just once—so he could see how the Gospel was supposed to be preached. I kept telling him that Mr. Moody’s portrait of Christ was much different than our father’s. I convinced him to come, promising that I would never ask another thing of him if he did. And Moody’s sermon didn’t disappoint me. I remember they sang a song that night called ‘Today the Savior Calls.’ ”
My father began to sing softly,
surprising me with his beautiful tenor voice:
“Today the Savior calls
For refuge fly
The storm of justice falls
And death is nigh.”
“We had no idea how true those words would be,” he continued. “Mr. Moody was still preaching his sermon when fire engines started thundering past and the bell in the old courthouse began to toll nearby. Everyone grew restless, and there was so much noise and confusion in the street outside that Mr. Moody decided to close the meeting. He didn’t invite the congregation to come to Jesus—so I never knew if Philip …”
I took my father’s hand in mine, waiting until he could continue. He had suffered more losses in his life than I had ever realized.
“Philip was worried about the saloon, worried that his friend O’Neill would be too drunk to get himself out of there with his bad leg. O’Neill had saved Phil’s life during the war, so I went along with him. The fire was spreading very close to the saloon, and we found it empty except for looters who were stealing as much liquor as they could carry. I told Philip it was time for both of us to get to safety, but he wanted to go to the theater first and make sure his friends had all escaped.
“On the way we passed a building that had just caught fire. Your mother was leaning from a third-story window, screaming for help. Her father had locked her inside. Philip and I broke the door down and I carried her out. But then he went back inside to make sure no one else was trapped.”
Father paused. I saw him struggling to compose himself.
“Philip never made it out. I watched the place collapse on top of him.”
“He sounds like a great man,” I murmured. Father nodded wordlessly, then cleared his throat.
“Our church in Lockport was taking in refugees, so I brought Angeline home. I was grieving for Philip, and she helped me through it. She always said that I saved her, but she saved me too, Violet. I fell in love with her.
“Looking back,” he said, after clearing his throat again, “I can see how hard it was for her to adjust to Lockport. She didn’t fit in. Her family were gypsies—thieves and rogues—and she didn’t know what a real family was supposed to be like. She loved you though. You and I were her life, especially after she stopped trying to find acceptance in town. I never knew that my father was the one who drove her away … just like he drove Philip away. She never told me what he’d said about our children dying. I wish she had. And I never knew that her brothers had found her… .”
He turned to gaze out of the window at the flat prairie land we were passing. I could see his reflection in the window. There were tears in his eyes.
“If I could offer you any advice, Violet, it would be to marry someone who comes from the same background as you do and has the same values. That’s why I want to encourage you to consider Herman Beckett. He’s a nice young man. Bright, capable … I offered him a job with me if he does marry you.”
“You—what? When did you tell him that? Was it before the Fourth of July?”
“Well, yes it was, in fact. He came to see me the day after he took you to the fair. He told me that the outing had gone very well and that he had grown fond of you.”
“Don’t you see? That’s the only reason he proposed to me. He wants a job with you!”
“Well, why not? I don’t have a son to inherit my business.”
“Take away the job offer and see if he still wants me. Go ahead, I dare you.”
He stared at me in surprise, then murmured, “You’re so much like your mother.”
“And that’s another reason why I can’t marry Herman Beckett. I want more than a life in Lockport. Maybe it’s my gypsy blood, I don’t know, but Herman and I have nothing at all in common. Besides, I don’t love him. Please don’t make me marry a man I don’t love.”
I was still holding my father’s hand, and he squeezed mine gently. “I know what it’s like to have a father who tries to control your life,” he said. “It’s just that I’m concerned about your future—but perhaps my father felt the same way.”
We traveled in silence for several minutes. “You need to finish your story,” I finally said. “Tell me about Maude and Lloyd O’Neill.”
Father exhaled. Again, he took a long time to reply.
“O’Neill lost his leg during the war while saving Philip’s life. That’s why I wanted to help him, even though he was a drunk. He would dry up for a little while and get a respectable job, but he always returned to the city to start drinking again. Whenever he got drunk he would go after Maude and start beating her. She would send the children down into the cellar because he had a wooden leg and couldn’t manage the steps very well. That’s what happened the day he died. He was drunk, and he came after her and the children. She fled into the basement with them, and when he tried to follow, he fell and cracked his skull. Maude and her children have been through so much, Violet, and seen so much. I would like to provide them with a peaceful home.”
“Do you love her?”
“I married for love the first time. Now I simply want companionship.”
“Well, I want to marry for love. I want to fall madly, passionately in love with someone, and I want him to love me the same way in return, and—”
I had to stop or I was going to cry. We were nearing Lemont, where Silas McClure had boarded the train and I’d seen him for the first time. Father wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close.
“I won’t make you marry Herman Beckett—or any other man— unless you want to. But please think about what I said. Two people need more in common for a good marriage than passion.”
“I know. I’ve learned a lot in these past few weeks. I’m not the timid, fragile girl I used to be. When I first arrived in Chicago and no one was there to meet me at the train station, I had no idea what to do. Madame Beauchamps’ School for Young Ladies never prepared me for real life. I was scared and foolish and much too sheltered.” I recalled how I nearly had gone off alone with Silas that day and shuddered. “But I’ve grown up since then. I don’t need to be protected and sheltered from bad news anymore. And I don’t want to hide away in Lockport living a safe, comfortable life. I want to live. I want to discover new things about myself and see new places.”
“I wish you would take time to get to know Maude since she’s going to be your stepmother.”
“All right, I will.” I finally accepted it. “But then I want to go back to Chicago and find my place in life. I don’t want to look for a husband right now. I won’t be twenty-one for nine more months. Just give me some time to figure out what I’m supposed to do with my life, okay? That’s what we’re put on earth for, isn’t it? I need to serve God in my own way, just like you and Uncle Philip had to find your own way.”
“Are you going to see your mother again?”
“I want to see her, if she’ll let me. Someone needs to tell her that all those things Grandfather said were wrong. I think she should know the truth—even if she never does come home to us. Maybe she and I can learn together.”
“You’re so much like her,” he said again. “So lively and dramatic. That’s why I worry so much about you.”
“I don’t want to be an actress,” I said, smiling. “And I’m not going to marry one of Grandmother’s religious zealots or be brainwashed by Aunt Matt. I want to be my own person. I know that worries you, but remember how your father tried to put you into a box that didn’t fit? Remember what it did to Philip? And to Mother? Let me find my own box. I’ll be okay—I promise.”
He tightened his grip on my shoulder.
“I’ll stay home with you for a few months,” I told him. “I’ll be nice to Maude and her children. I’ll stay until after the wedding. But please let me go back to Chicago in the fall. I have so much more to learn.”
“All right, Violet,” he said with a sigh. “You can go back.”