by Zina Abbott
Garland entered his shack and stared at his stove. Considering what surrounded it, his pride and joy stood out like a pearl among the swine, if he remembered the Biblical expression correctly. He could afford to buy one of Bennett Nighy’s kitchen cabinets, whether it be one of the economical pine ones like the miners tended to purchase, or another made of a more expensive hardwood. However, he would never bring it to this rundown excuse of a house.
It was then Garland McAllister decided he would take the chance his mind had been toying with for months. He would give notice to his landlord and inform his roommates that, as of the first of the year, they needed to make other living arrangements. He would rent one of the narrow storefronts on Main Street and live on the second floor. In the restaurant below, he would offer a Saturday night supper menu with two selections. On Sunday, starting an hour after church services and ending about five o’clock, he would serve a late dinner menu. He would be working at what he loved, plus it would help offset the increase in his rent.
Once he moved, if the leeches who lived with him now wished to enjoy his cooking, they would need to come to his restaurant and pay promptly for each meal. He would still be far from achieving his goal of becoming a well-respected chef in a restaurant that enjoyed a top-notch reputation for excellent food, but this would be a step in the right direction.
Besides, even though the living area would only be a few small rooms on the second floor above a restaurant, perhaps they would be sufficient for a woman like Katherine Flanagan to correspond with him and consider him for a husband.
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Chapter 11
~o0o~
Lower Manhattan, New York ~ end November, 1881
K ate barely shoved her latest letter her mother handed her into her pocket before Molly marched over to her, a determined expression on her face.
“What is that you’re hiding, Katie? You’re thinking I’m daft, now are you? You’re hoping I’m not knowing you’re up to something and hiding it from us?”
Her fists jammed at her waist, Kate leaned toward her next younger sister. “And what is it to you if I’m receiving letters from Mary Martha I was going to school with? I’ll be thanking you to be minding your own business.” Kate hated to lie to her sister, but she dared not tell her the letter came from one of the men out West with whom she had been corresponding. If the younger ones learned of it, and word got back to her da, the havoc raised by the demons of hell would be nothing compared to what her father would do to her and her mother. Instead, she focused on the surly expression on her sister’s face. The way Molly pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, Kate realized her sister did not intend to let the matter go.
“Then there’s no reason for you to not be sharing her news with us, now is there? It’s not right, you keeping secrets, Katie.”
“No, I’ll not be reading the letter aloud to you. We’ve little enough privacy, so many of us living so close in this small apartment. I’ll be reading my letter in private.” Kate continued the staring match with Molly, but she finally decided to make a small concession. “If Mary Martha has anything worth sharing, I’ll be telling you first thing.”
Fortunately, Fiona chose that moment to interrupt and put an end to the matter. “That’s enough, Molly. You’ll be setting the food on the table whilst Kate goes in the girls’ bedroom to be reading her letter. And I’ll not be having anyone within ten feet of that door, or you’ll be answering to me.”
“Where’s Da? Why’s he not coming home for supper lately?”
Kate opened her mouth to answer Danny. Upon hearing the snort in derision, she turned from her youngest brother toward her eldest, Patrick, who already claimed his seat at the end of the bench next to the head of the table.
“Where he is every evening, Danny. Those of us working all day will not be waiting supper on him. Ready I am for something to eat, and I’ll not be taking it kindly to be waiting on Da showing up or on Katie reading her letter first.”
Kate studied her brother and realized he still wore the sullen expression that had been on his face when he picked her up at the trolley stop. She had asked him then what the matter was, but he had shrugged off her question and turned away from her without speaking. They walked home in silence, but Kate knew something—more than the usual—bothered him. Was it possible that the landlord cornered him instead of their mother about the rent that was two days past due?
Katie wondered if Ma had run out of flour as she dipped the spoon in the pot and filled a bowl with the watery stew. Fortunately, there must have been enough for the biscuits in the basket, but probably only one for each of them. “We’re all hungry. We’ll be eating our supper first, before any letters are being read.”
Between Fiona and the two oldest daughters, they quickly put supper on the table. Kate, like the rest of them, did her best to ignore the empty chair belonging to her father at the end of the table. Once they finished, Fiona ordered everyone to their tasks. Bridgette cleared the table and swept the floor around it, and, because Kate worked in a kitchen washing dishes and pans all day, she had Molly wash and dry dishes while Kate saw to it Danny prepared for bed.
As usual, Patrick moved one of the chairs next to the stove. Kate fought down her annoyance. As if he was the only one who worked hard that day, he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes to rest. She suspected he would stay there until after everyone cleared out of the main living area so he and Danny could settle in on their pallets and sleep.
Kate hurried Danny along and shoved him out of the bedroom so she could read her mail in peace. She pressed her back against the closed door to prevent snoopy Molly from trying to barge her way in. After the things Michael in Jubilee Springs had written to her about his plans for the future, she hoped Will in Central City had sent a letter asking her to marry him. After holding the envelope up to the light of the kerosene lamp and recognizing Will’s handwriting, she tore the envelope open and angled the page so the dim light in the room illuminated it. In hopeful anticipation, she quickly scanned the words on the single page he sent. Her heart sank in disappointment as she slowly folded the page and returned it to its envelope before once again burying it deep inside her pocket.
Unable to face anyone else in the family immediately, she stepped away from the door and moved to the dark corner between the bed and the wall separating the girls’ room from her parents’.
Kate looked up as the door cracked open. She bit back the angry words she prepared to hurl at Molly when she saw it was her mother, not her sister, who checked on her. Her mother turned to the others in the main room, the firmness is her voice unmistakable.
“I’ll be speaking with our Katie a moment, and I’ll not be tolerating waggling ears being pressed against the crack of the door.”
Katie watched as her mother entered, shut the door, and crossed the room until she stood next to Kate, her back pressed against the wall. Also mindful of thin walls and snooping neighbors, she kept her voice soft.
“Would you be telling your ma what was in the letter, Katie?”
Tears welled in Kate’s eyes, and her voice broke. “It was from Will in Central City, Ma. He’s sending for the other woman he’s been writing to. He wrote some pretty words, but they’re all meaning the same. I’ll not be hearing from him again.” In the silence that followed, Kate shut her eyes, dreading what her mother would say. She knew that, although Will’s decision was bad news for her, her mother would rejoice that the Protestant gold miner was no longer a marriage prospect.
“Sorry I am to see you so heartbroken, him rejecting you like that, Katie. Maybe it’s a blessing, although I’m doubting you’re seeing it that way now.”
Her mother paused. In expectation of what would be said next, Kate cringed.
“What about the Irish boy in Jubilee Springs, then?”
Kate sighed in resignation. “There’s nothing for it but for me to be telling Michael I’m acce
pting his marriage proposal.”
“He already asked for your hand, did he? From what you’ve been telling me, he seems like he’ll be a good husband. He’s Catholic, like us, Katie. You’ll not be wanting your children raised by a man who is godless. There’s been many a drop of Irish blood spilt preserving our religion.”
Katie sighed in frustration. “Ma, that was mostly in Ireland. I’m not that set on marrying a Catholic as long as he’s a good man. As for marrying Irish, too many Irish men are cursed, like Da, with a love of drink. After living like we’ve been these past years, I’ll be choosing a heathen American over a drunkard Irishman any day. Besides, look at all the Italians moving into lower Manhattan and causing the Irish trouble. They’re Catholic, like we are.” Kate watched as her mother threw her hands up in the air.
“I’ll be the first to be saying I’m not knowing what this world is coming to with Catholics fighting against Catholics, but that’s how it is when there’s too many all going after too little. You need to be deciding what you’ll be doing, Katie. As your ma, I’m favoring you getting away from here before something bad is happening to you on the streets.” Fiona turned and shoved her finger in her daughter’s face. “You need to be listening to me, Katherine Mary Cían Flannigan. Not all Irish men are drunkards, and not all Americans are sober. You’ll be finding the drink curses all who be letting themselves fall prey to it. Don’t be looking down on the Irish boy because you’re fearing he’ll be turning out like your da. I recall you telling me, he’s staying away from the drink because he’s making plans for his future?”
In the dim light from the lantern and that making its way through the window, Kate stared at her mother. “Both he and Annie were writing the same thing in their letters, sure. But I’d be willing to wager, you didn’t marry Da with him promising you he’d be turning to drink. I’m guessing he was planning something different back then. Then again, trips to the pub after work are an Irishman’s way of life, now aren’t they? How can I be knowing ahead of time, Ma? How can I be sure he’ll be staying with his plan and not be turning to the whiskey?” Kate felt little encouragement as her mother sighed before responding.
“You can’t be knowing the future, Kate, any more than I was knowing my family would be ending up like we have. It’s for better or worse when you’re speaking the vows, now isn’t it? All you can be doing is making the best choice you can, and praying to God He’ll be helping you work through your problems. If you’re not caring for him, Kate, don’t be agreeing to marry him. The woman who’s running the marriage service can be finding you others to be writing to, can’t she?”
“I’ll not be doing that, Ma. I’m liking Michael well enough, and he’s living in the same town as our Annie. It’s just that…” Kate turned and wrapped her arms around Fiona as she buried her forehead in her mother’s shoulder. “He’s living in Jubilee Springs now, but he’s saving for a ranch, Ma. He’s wanting to move far from a town where we’ll not be living close to others. I’ve heard enough about the West to know there’s bears and mountain lions and wolves—all kinds of wild animals attacking and killing cattle and people alike. He’s saying there’s no Indians about anymore, but how can I be knowing that for sure? How can I stand to be living alone in a place like that, caring for my children with no one else about while my husband is off herding cows and me not having a school nearby or even one neighbor within shouting distance?” Kate lifted her head and, in the dim light, her gaze searched her mother’s face. “Even if he’s Catholic, Ma, Annie says he’s not one to be attending mass except for maybe the holidays. And, I know you’re wanting me to go where I can be living close by our Annie and going to mass. But, if he’s moving us far from Jubilee Springs, I’ll not be seeing her any more often than if I was staying here, and who’s to be saying there’ll be a Catholic church nearby?”
Much to Kate’s surprise, her mother did not immediately speak up to argue against the concerns that had been bothering her since she received both Michael’s letter telling of his goals for the future, shortly followed by a letter from Annie filling her in on what she learned after her visits with Michael.
That last letter from Annie was a strange one—written in a neat script, but one she did not recognize when her mother first handed it to her. In fact, in that letter, Annie talked more about the former Miss Blakewell, as they had known her by. She wrote how herself had bought a new wardrobe for Annie, including a brown wool gown and a dark green bombazine dress, in case she served guests for supper. And, herself not only insisted Annie not call her Mrs. Nighy, but she was now to call Delphinia by the nickname herself chose to be known by—Delly. It was like the high-society miss the Flanagan family had heard so much about when she still lived in New York City had been transformed into an entirely different person.
At least, the writer of the letter had identified himself. Garland McAllister—a Scottish name. She had no idea how Annie knew him. Was he Presbyterian? Her mother would have fits over that, so Kate avoided saying anything about the scribe, just in case Annie had taken a liking to him.
Mr. McAllister had written a short, but detailed, description of the area, the weather to be expected this time of year, and how these factors affected train travel. One thing was certain—if she wished to accept Michael’s marriage proposal and join him anytime soon, she needed to do so immediately. Kate returned her attention to her mother.
“I’m understanding of your fears, Katie. I’ll not be saying you should be ignoring them. You need to be deciding what is best for you. You know I’ll be standing with you either way.”
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Chapter 12
~o0o~
P atrick stood on the other side of the closed door to the bedroom used by the girls in the family. Growing up, it had annoyed him that his sisters had a room in which to sleep and keep their clothes and few possessions while he and Danny, plus any male boarders the family might have, made do with the common living area after his parents and sisters went to bed.
The longer his mother and sister remained in the room gossiping about whatever was written in the letter from Mary Martha, the more Patrick’s annoyance grew into outright anger. He also needed to talk to his mother. What he had to say to her far exceeded in importance whatever the two women discussed now.
“You’re going to be in trouble with Ma when she catches you, Patrick. She was warning us, wasn’t she, we weren’t to be listening in on her talking with Kate.”
Patrick turned and walked a few steps toward Molly who, arms akimbo and a scowl on her face, stood by the warmth of the cookstove. “I’ve not got my ear pressed to the door, now do I? Whatever they’re jabbering about that was in Mary Martha’s letter is of no interest to me, now is it? I’ve got other matters to be discussing with Ma, and I intend to be catching her before she’s leaving the room.”
Molly smirked and waggled her head as she spoke. “What ‘important matters’ would you need to be speaking to Ma about? If they’re so important, what are they?”
Patrick waved his hand as if to brush off his younger sister’s demand. “I’ll be speaking to Ma about them first. It will be up to her if she’s wanting you to know.”
“What are you talking about to Molly? We want to know.”
Patrick turned to face Bridgette and Danny and all but shouted. “Nothing that would be concerning you. Now, back to your game you go, and leave me be. I’ve been working hard all day, and I’m not needing younger ones pestering me.” He turned back to Molly, a hiss in his voice. “See what you started?”
His annoyance grew as Molly jutted out her chin with defiance.
“You’re not our da, Patrick. If there’s something important going on, we’re all deserving to know it.”
Patrick stared at his sister while, taking several deep breaths to calm himself, he realized what she said had some truth to it. He relented and took Molly by the arm to pull her closer so he could speak directly in her ear
. “Like I was saying, Molly, I need to be discussing it with Ma first. It will be up to her what to be doing about it, and if she’s saying anything to the rest. I’ll be telling you this—if there’s truth in what I’ve been hearing, it will be affecting you the most. I’m not saying this to be mean, but so you’ll be preparing for the worst. You may not be going to school after Christmas. You need to be settling your mind on going into service.”
Molly’s expression of defiance fled to be replaced by one of dismay. “You can’t be meaning that, Patrick. I’ve only a few months left, and then I’ll be graduating. Besides, you aren’t Da. It’s him who’ll be deciding, not you.”
“It won’t be my decision, now will it? In case you’ve not been noticing, Molly, we’ve scarce enough money for food, and rent is past due, now isn’t it? Ma saw to it the school was paid up to the end of the year. Next year, there might be no money for school for any of you, not even Danny. I’ll be promising you this—if Ma isn’t saying something to you by the end of the week, I’ll be telling you what I know. Now, go with the others and not a word from you, or I’ll be treating you like Danny and telling you nothing ever again.”
Patrick suspected he might regret the promise he made to his sister. However, he had been telling the truth about one thing. If what he had heard was true, Molly would be forced into service. He’d end up walking both of his sisters home from the trolley stop six evenings a week. Either his mother or Bridgette would end up having to teach Danny his reading, penmanship, and ciphering. Unfortunately, without access to a globe or maps and history books, they would not be able to teach him much about geography and history.
