by Penny Musco
Dinner that evening was spent in stony silence. Hannah felt as if the bones of the chops might become stuck in her throat, and she pushed away most of her food uneaten. She pretended she was already asleep when Robert joined her in bed.
The following morning brought a dread unlike any she had ever known in her life. She considered not joining Robert at the breakfast table, but after a brief prayer, she decided that she must be the one to break the impasse. She slipped into her seat a moment later.
Robert regarded her solemnly.
“Hannah, about yesterday...” He folded his newspaper and set it aside.
“Yes?” she answered quickly, scanning his face with hope.
He took her hands in his. “I’m sorry. I...I was terribly overbearing and much too harsh with you. I think I told you the difficulty we’ve been having with one of our tellers at the bank, and it was my unfortunate duty yesterday to let him go. I believe we may have to prosecute.” A ghost of a smile appeared. “I wasn’t looking forward to the day, and I’m afraid that your news only added to my distress. I said several things I regret, and I know I hurt you, and for that, I’m deeply sorry. Will you forgive me?”
“Of course,” Hannah replied with brimming eyes. “I’m sorry I was less than forthright with you about Rosa’s...condition. I was so afraid you’d ask me to discharge her when she was in such difficulty...” She gripped his hand. “But what hurt me most, Robert, was that you could think I wanted a...a baby more than you. I’ve been thinking and praying about it ever since, wondering if I’ve been too preoccupied to be the kind of wife you need and want, and—”
“Hannah, my darling,” Robert replied with a fervent whisper, bending closer to her face, “no! I meant it when I said I feel your longing for a child.” He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “I talked with Dr. Peyton...” He nodded when she looked at him in surprise. “Yes, it was difficult, but I did it because I wanted to erase that desperate yearning that has been shadowing your eyes for much too long.” He hesitated and looked down at their intertwined fingers. “He reminded me that the…problem could be with either of us. He also said that—that it can sometimes take a while, and he—he gave me some...suggestions...” He gave her hands a playful squeeze. “Which I have been very careful to carry out...” He continued in a rush. “I know this is an indelicate subject, and we don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to, but believe me when I say that I love you so much that I want whatever will make you happy.” He searched her face as he caressed her delicate cheek. “But if we never have a child, Hannah, I’ll be content to spend the rest of my days with only you, the most wonderful and beautiful thing that has ever come into my life.”
Hannah reached up to cover his hand as her tears spilled over. “And Rosa?”
His fingers stiffened. “I thought we were talking about us.”
“We can bring a baby into a home full of love, rather than sending him to an orphanage, and help his poor mother at the same time,” she continued in a frantic rush. “Can’t you find room in your heart to love a child even if he’s not your own flesh and blood?”
He withdrew his hands. “What you’re asking of me is beyond what I’m able to give, Hannah. I’m sorry for Rosa and for us. But as for the baby...” He turned away. “Please don’t ask that of me.”
Hannah’s heart broke at the quiet finality of his words. She sat rigidly at the table for a long time after Robert left for work.
Caterina finally came to clear away the dishes then wisely left without a word to her mistress. She undoubtedly had heard everything, yesterday and today.
Later, Hannah stared unseeing out of the parlor window and involuntarily shivered. Perhaps I should have had Caterina start a fire after all, she thought. October is exceptionally cool this year. Or perhaps it was a deeper chill that had penetrated the house.
Hannah slowly turned away, barely noticing the faint sounds of traffic from the street and the bustle of a city going about its daily business, or the fading afternoon sun softly filling the parlor window. Her head and her heart ached from the strain of the last two days.
She drifted around the room, stopping at the brand new piano in the corner. It was her birthday gift from Robert, the one she’d admired in Mr. Steinway’s display window, delivered just last week. After she half-chided him for the expense, she had expressed her pleasure at his thoughtfulness and the great lengths to which he’d gone to surprise her. His eyes had gleamed at her delight. Later that night, he’d expressed his devotion as he held her, murmuring tender words, reveling in the passion she so freely returned. Hannah’s cheeks flamed at such an uncomfortable and unladylike thought. Have I been loving him for himself or for the baby I hope will result?
Absently, she stroked the upright’s rich, burnished wood. She had never questioned hers and Robert’s constancy and love, and she wouldn’t now. They might never have a child either by birth or adoption, but she vowed to make sure Robert knew she loved him regardless.
Then she could begin to face her dawning and very painful realization: that while she had the assurance God heard and answered her prayers, His reply might very well be “no.” If she was to gain any sense of peace both within herself and with her husband, she had to first come to terms with the heart-wrenching truth that the identical requests of her and her Old Testament namesake most likely would not have the same outcome.
She slid onto the piano bench and determinedly leafed through the gospel music she was learning, desperate for something to soothe her heavy spirit. She found the song she wanted, and began to play and sing softly:
A wonderful Savior is Jesus my Lord,
A wonderful Savior to me;
He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock,
Where rivers of pleasure I see.
He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock,
That shadows a dry, thirsty land;
He hideth my life in the depths of His love,
And covers me there with His hand,
And covers me there with His hand.
A wonderful Savior is Jesus my Lord,
He taketh my burden away,
He holdeth me up, and I shall not be moved,
He giveth me strength as my day.
He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock,
That shadows a dry, thirsty land;
He hideth my life in the depths of His love—“
Hannah couldn’t finish the second chorus. With the discordant sound of keys crashing together, she buried her head in her arms and wept bitterly on the polished ivory.
5
Robert settled into his seat in the hansom cab and sighed. The day simply was not turning out as he had planned.
“May I see you in my office, Jessup?” Carson Duff had motioned to him from the doorway of his office earlier this morning.
“Yes, of course.” Robert pushed aside the stack of paperwork on his desk, smoothed his wing collar and four-in-hand, and buttoned his jacket.
“Sit down, young man.” Mr. Duff indicated one of the fine leather chairs in front of his massive oak desk and looked at Robert over the rims of glasses perched on the end of his nose. “Are you free this afternoon for a business luncheon?”
“I have no appointments. I had planned to continue with what I’ve been working on, but it can wait.”
The older man leaned back in his chair. “We’ve certainly seen an increase in the number of loans lately, haven’t we? Well, the economy is strong right now, and we’re just sharing in the good fortune. You must be doing a very thorough job as our senior officer, since our default rate is the lowest it’s been in some time.”
“Thank you, sir.” Robert wondered what all this was leading up to.
Mr. Duff brought the front legs of his chair down with a bang. “And that’s why this meeting today is so important. We must be seen not only as an institution that makes money, but gives it, too. Strange talk for a banker, eh?” Without waiting for a reply, he continued. “
How does lunch at Delmonico’s sound? Ever been there?”
“No, sir, I haven’t, although I considered taking Hannah there for our last anniversary.” He paused. “Is this a charitable function?”
“No, no, nothing like that.” Mr. Duff waved away the suggestion. “It’s a client I want you to meet, a Mr. Halsmith. He’s dealt with us in the past before he retired and sold his shipbuilding company. A very profitable one it was, I might add. Now he’s asking for our help in securing a loan with favorable interest rates and terms for an orphanage he’s setting up.” Mr. Duff shrugged. “I’m not too keen on the idea myself, but the board wants to do it. And I want you to handle the account.”
“I’m honored, of course, by your confidence in me, Mr. Duff, but I’m a bit mystified why you aren’t handling it yourself.”
“Quite frankly, I can’t stand the fellow, always quizzing me about my religion and such. That’s why I believe it’s a perfect fit for you, being as how your wife is like that.”
Robert stiffened slightly in his seat.
“No need to get your back up, Jessup. No disrespect intended. She’s a lovely woman. We must expect these things of the weaker sex.”
Which was why Robert found himself in the cab shortly after midday to meet Mr. Halsmith for lunch at the fashionable restaurant. As the horses left behind the bustle of Wall Street and rounded the corner onto Broadway, he glanced up at the Gothic steeple of Trinity Church and turned over in his mind Mr. Duff’s remarks about Hannah.
In the months since the dinner and visit to the opera with his boss and wife, taking seriously his vow to be more attentive to her newfound faith, he’d begun to appreciate that the changes he saw in her had only served to enhance the warm and loving woman he had fallen in love with and married. A renewed stir of resentment that anyone should dismiss her beliefs so lightly rose in him, yet in the next moment he realized with shame that he’d often done the same thing himself.
Since the argument last week over Rosa and her unborn child, an uneasy peace had settled over the Jessup household. He wanted what made Hannah happy, and it pained him to see the monthly sorrow overshadow her face. He ached for her, and yes, for himself, as well. He would love a son to be proud of, to introduce to the fascinating game of baseball being played at the Polo Grounds. And a girl! What a beauty she would be, with flaxen curls like her mother’s, caught up in a silken bow! But if it was not to be, well then, that was that.
He had meant it when he said he would be content to spend the rest of his days with Hannah alone. Her revelation that Rosa wanted them to have her baby had shocked him. How could a woman give up her own child? Of course, her circumstances were not the best, but still...
He stared at the imposing façade of Madison Square Garden as the carriage swung up Fifth Avenue. Was it that, or masculine pride, or perhaps the fear of welcoming an unknown child of a different heritage into his home that made the idea of adoption almost repulsive to him? But wasn’t there always an element of uncertainty in any child? Did any parent have guarantees about their children, flesh and blood or not?
All these thoughts tumbled through his mind as the hansom pulled up to the elegant entrance of Delmonico’s. Robert alighted quickly and walked through the canopied entrance, shaking his head a little to clear it for the meeting ahead.
“May I help you, sir?” The maître d’ addressed him in deferential tones.
“Yes, I’m supposed to meet Mr. Morton Halsmith here at one. Has he arrived?”
“Are you Mr. Jessup?”
Robert nodded.
“Mr. Halsmith has only just been seated. If you’ll follow me...”
Robert tried not to gawk at the elaborately decorated dining room. It was certainly different than the noisy, crowded lunch hall where he usually ate his noon meal. The soft buzz of conversation and clinking of fine china and silver drifted in the air as he followed the man past small round tables graced with lush floral arrangements. Chandeliers cast a soft glow over the polished paneling and high wood ceilings, enhancing the feeble November sunshine slanting in from the arched windows.
Robert recognized a few familiar faces from the newspaper, which was not surprising, considering that Delmonico’s was the one of the city’s top restaurants. This will cost the bank a pretty penny, he thought. I hope it’s worth it. But any concern about the cost was quickly replaced by the pleasure of enjoying a meal at such a handsome and well-known establishment. Too bad Hannah can’t be here with me.
He nearly bumped into the maître d’, who had stopped before an elderly gentleman just rising from his chair. Before Robert had a chance to introduce himself, the man had clasped both of his hands in his own in a warm handshake.
“Mr. Jessup, so good to see you! I was pleased when Duff sent ’round a note saying that you’d be handling things. And he certainly spared no expense,” he said, his arm sweeping over the restaurant. “I myself have never dined here. I don’t care to use our funds that way, and I never had the occasion to conduct business in this area. But I have no hesitation when someone else is footing the bill!” He resumed his seat and picked up the menu. “I understand the food is excellent. Your first time, too?”
“Yes, sir,” Robert replied, nodding his thanks as he accepted a menu and took a chair opposite. “You seem to have the advantage of me, however. Have we met before?”
“I met your very charming wife when she was visiting our home. And, of course, I see you both at services.” He continued as he saw Robert’s eyes widen, “Yes, we go to the same church, although I understand you haven’t been attending very long.” He shook his head. “Very interesting testimony Mrs. Jessup has. I was at that revival meeting myself. Mr. Moody is a powerful preacher.”
“Yes.” Robert shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Forgive me that I didn’t recognize you.”
“Quite all right. We tend to sit toward the front, so I expect you may not have passed me.” Mr. Halsmith snapped his menu closed as a server approached. “I believe I’ll have today’s special.”
Robert quickly agreed, and as their waiter bowed away, he scrutinized his guest. A fringe of white was all that remained on his head, but it blended into lush, carefully trimmed sideburns and a beard that belied a lack of hair on top. The blue eyes in his craggy face were penetrating but kind, and Robert sensed that he was a man of strong convictions yet gentle manner.
“So Duff has told you about my proposal?” Mr. Halsmith shook out his napkin and placed it on his lap. “He seemed to indicate he could meet my terms.”
Robert cleared his throat. “Yes, he gave me the facts about the arrangement you wish to pursue with us, and I’m authorized to work out the details, draw up the papers, and help with implementing the agreement. What I’d like, though, is a more exact picture of the orphanage you propose to create with the funding.”
Mr. Halsmith leaned forward, his eyes blazing with intensity. “Have you ever driven through the Lower East Side, Mr. Jessup? Bottle Alley? Five Points?”
Robert shook his head.
“I thought as much,” Halsmith continued. “No one would care to go there if he didn’t have to. I had never seen those areas either before I chanced to read Mr. Riis’ book, How the Other Half Lives.” He shook his head. “What a fitting title. I had no idea.”
Robert’s interest was aroused. He had heard about the shocking expose of life among the tenements written by the Danish emigrant. The photos themselves were said to be appalling. Regardless of improved standards called for in recent legislation, the areas Mr. Halsmith mentioned remained squalid, overcrowded slums rumored to be hotbeds of disease and vice. He listened attentively.
“Several churches have been sending people to minister in these neighborhoods, cooperating with existing settlement houses and soup kitchens to try to alleviate the suffering and misery of the unfortunate poor, but there are still so many other pressing needs. A few of my fellow former businessmen and I get together weekly for prayer, and I brought up the idea of establis
hing our own mission, and it was met with approval. After much deliberation, we’ve decided to concentrate on the children, the innocents among this tide of wretched humanity. There’s a great problem of homeless children, who have nowhere to go, nowhere to turn but to a life of degradation and crime. If we can reach this new generation with the hope of the Gospel, then we feel that perhaps we can really make a difference. Jesus had a special heart for the poor and for children. We can do no less.”
“Have you found an existing building, or will you erect one?”
“We’ve identified a vacant lot as being a good location, right in the Seventh Ward along the East River. One of our members used to work as an architect, and he’s drawing up the simple design now. All we need is the money to go ahead.” He paused for a moment. “I’ll be honest with you, Mr. Jessup. I felt the Lord’s leading when I met your wife.”
Robert looked up, startled.
“She told me about your job at Duff’s bank, and I had been asking the Lord about how we would pay for the plans He’s laid upon our hearts, so I took this as a sign from God that we should work with another believer on this.”
“But I’m not!” Robert blurted out. “That is, I was baptized as an infant and...and was brought up in a Christian home, and I’ve attended church all my life, but I haven’t...well, like Hannah...”
“You don’t share your wife’s faith?”
“I’m not—“
“Born again?”
“Yes, I believe that’s the term Hannah uses.”
“Hmm.” Mr. Halsmith paused as the waiter delivered their soup and silently slid away. “Tell me, Mr. Jessup, were you born into your family?”
“Of course! What other way is there?”
“Adoption.”
Robert stopped with the spoon halfway to his mouth. That Mr. Halsmith would raise that subject! But of course, anyone who was interested in orphans would be interested in adoption. He relaxed. “Yes, there is that, naturally.”
“Actually, there’s nothing natural about it.” Mr. Halsmith sipped his soup. “This is good.” He dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “Think about it. Being born is natural. Everyone is born of a woman. Even our Savior came into the world the usual way. But sometimes it happens that a husband and wife can’t have children of their own, and children are sometimes abandoned by their parents or lose them to death or incapacitating illness. What happens then?”
