Maggie's War
Page 18
With that, she placed Darcy in Charlotte’s arms and left the room. Reuben followed, shutting the door on the sounds of Mr. Penfield’s protests, Charlotte’s continued sobbing, Darcy’s wails, and Mrs. Shelton’s exasperated pleas for everyone to calm down.
CHAPTER 31
If Charlotte had thought labor and delivery were difficult, she now saw them as nothing compared to the agony she faced at this moment. Her father looked as if he would rip Darcy right out of her arms and toss him out the window. Her mother refused to look at the baby, though she remained calmer than her husband as she stared at the surface of Mrs. Shelton’s desk. While blowing her nose hard, Charlotte managed only to make Darcy cry harder. She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, and focused on settling her baby.
“You can have my chair, Father.” She got up and began gently swaying like Mrs. O’Toole had taught her. “It’s okay, little Darcy. Mommy’s got you,” she whispered close to his ear. “Shh-shh. It’s okay.”
Her father took the seat but ignored his daughter. “Mrs. Shelton. I daresay you and your agency are as much to blame as Mrs. Marshall. Would you mind telling me why this infant is not now in his own home with his proper parents?”
“And why he wasn’t born here, in Winnipeg,” Charlotte’s mother added.
Her father leaned forward in his seat, one hand on his hip and the other wagging a pointer finger at Mrs. Shelton. “And I hope you realize you’ve completely lost any chance of receiving a favorable reference from us in the future.”
Charlotte wondered why anyone would ever have occasion to ask her parents for a reference when the whole situation was all such a big secret. Who would know to ask? But she held her tongue, thankful that Darcy had quieted.
Mrs. Shelton looked up at Charlotte. “To begin, you’ll have to ask your daughter what she was doing in Fort William when she knew the baby was due in a few weeks. What do you have to tell your parents, Charlotte?”
Drawing upon everything in her, Charlotte managed to hold back the flow of tears that were threatening to spill. She knew Mrs. Marshall was correct. Emotion would not work in her favor at this point. The only hope she had of winning her parents over was to show them a contrite heart, a humble attitude, and the truth. She sent up a quick prayer for strength and took a deep breath.
“Father . . . Mother . . . I am so sorry. I behaved very foolishly, I see that now and I could not regret it more. I just—I thought if I could just get to Reginald’s camp, if he knew about the baby, everything would be okay. He would marry me as soon as he was released, and we could be together. So I caught a train for Petawawa, but the baby started coming before we reached Fort William, and they put me off the train.”
“I don’t understand.” Her father shook his head, still angry. “Why did Mrs. Marshall approve of this?”
“She didn’t, Father. She didn’t know. It’s not her fault.”
“You ran away?” her mother gasped. “Do you have any idea how dangerous—”
“How could you have run away when Mrs. Marshall is supposed to be supervising you? Where was she?”
“She was at her husband’s funeral.” Charlotte felt so ashamed, remembering how she’d taken advantage of the situation. How could she have done such a thing? Although Mrs. Marshall still had her rough edges, in the days since the funeral, Charlotte had seen another side to her, and now she found herself wanting to defend the woman who’d shown her such commitment since this nightmare began. She knew Mrs. Marshall had grown fond of Darcy too.
“Her husband’s . . . funeral?” Her mother sounded incredulous.
To Charlotte’s relief, Mrs. Shelton jumped in. “A lot has occurred in the last couple of weeks. It’s unfortunate that none of us were able to reach you. I’m afraid Mr. Marshall was killed in action. Apparently the funeral provided Charlotte the opportunity she believed she needed to seek out the baby’s father. But as you can see, her plans were derailed. Pardon the pun.”
No one was amused.
“So you had the baby in Fort William, and then what? Why is he here with you?” Charlotte’s mother put a hand to her head. “I’m getting a headache just trying to sort all this out.”
“Marlajean, the lady who befriended me on the train, sent you the telegram. When Mrs. Marshall discovered I was missing, she came after me. She and Reverend Fennel. I don’t even know how they knew where to find me, but they did.”
Mrs. Shelton spoke up. “By the time Mrs. Marshall found Charlotte and Darcy, they were—”
Charlotte’s father raised a hand. “Wait a minute. Who on earth is Darcy?”
“Your grandson.” Charlotte held the baby up for her parents to get a good look. “And he’s wonderful. Would you like to hold him, Father?”
“Certainly not! He is not my grandson. There are no doubt two perfectly good sets of grandparents waiting to coddle this . . . this . . . child. Why are they not already in this picture? Where are his parents?”
More than anything, Charlotte wanted to scream, I am his parent! But she held her tongue.
“Unfortunately, the adoptive parents have changed their minds,” Mrs. Shelton explained.
A sputtering sound escaped the lips of Charlotte’s father. “They can’t do that!”
“They were quite within their rights. I can show you the paperwork if you like.”
“No need for that. I just don’t understand on what grounds they could back out, and why didn’t they say something sooner?”
Charlotte shot an entreating look at Mrs. Shelton in hopes that she wouldn’t say anything about Darcy’s health issues yet. Surely, if her parents would just take a good look at the sweet boy, if they’d hold him, they would fall in love with him as she had. Before Mrs. Shelton could speak, however, her father launched into another tirade.
“Well, you’ll just have to find another set of parents, that’s all there is to it. And in the meantime, find someone else who can care for the child. We came to collect our daughter and take her home, and that is exactly what we mean to do. We should be nearly home by now.” He stood and moved toward the door. “Come along, Charlotte. Leave the baby with Mrs. Shelton.”
“But Father . . . !”
“No buts. This organization has been grossly negligent, and it will bear the consequences. Come along, Laura.”
But Charlotte’s mother remained in her seat, wringing her hands. “Edward, please. Be reasonable.”
“Reasonable? I’m being perfectly reasonable. We hashed all this out months ago, and we are sticking with the plan, regardless of who else proves their incompetence. Can we help it we lucked into a bunch of numskulls that can’t keep track of one young girl?”
Charlotte’s mother waved one hand toward the baby and looked up at her husband with pleading eyes. “Whether you acknowledge it or not, Edward, this is your grandson. Our grandson. We can’t just dump him here and expect the agency to deal with it. He could end up with anyone!”
Charlotte felt hope surge in her heart and held Darcy toward her mother. “Do you want to hold him? Isn’t he sweet?”
Her mother glanced at the baby, then at her husband’s fierce glare. Finally, her eyes settled on the floor. “No sense in getting attached, Charlotte. This reminds me of when you were little and were forever dragging home stray kittens.”
“Stray kittens? Mother, how can you say such a thing? Darcy is my son, and now that I know what it is to be his mother, you can’t make me give him up.” Charlotte took the chair her father had vacated.
Mrs. Shelton cleared her throat. “If I may say something . . . ?”
“Well, I wish you would.” Charlotte’s father didn’t move from the door.
Mrs. Shelton removed her eyeglasses and pressed two fingers against the bridge of her nose. “The events surrounding Darcy’s birth are most unusual, I will grant you. And you still have not heard the entire story.” She replaced her glasses. “When Charlotte and the baby returned to Winnipeg with Mrs. Marshall and the reverend, they discovered that Mrs. Ma
rshall’s home and restaurant had burned to the ground. Their world has been in turmoil, to say the least.”
Charlotte watched her father’s jaw drop. “Burned? On purpose?”
“We don’t know yet, Father. But just think, it could have happened while we were there, asleep. Then all truly would be lost.” Surely now her father would muster a little compassion.
But he only gave her a withering glare. “More likely it wouldn’t have happened at all had you been there.”
It felt like a blow to her midsection. How could he know how much that very thought had plagued her?
“Edward, that’s unfair.” Charlotte’s mother folded her hands across the top of her purse and addressed Mrs. Shelton. “What do you propose we do?”
Mrs. Shelton shuffled through the growing stack of papers from Charlotte’s file. “I may be able to find another set of parents, but it would take at least a month, maybe two, to arrange. With the war on, it’s not like there are young married couples lined up at my door. Ordinarily I would suggest foster care for Darcy in the meantime. However, I’ve never been a believer in shuffling children to another caregiver after they’ve bonded with the first. In truth, I have fought hard to prevent that. If you could see clear to allow Charlotte to keep him until he can be placed in the care of his permanent—”
“Certainly not.” Her father’s voice was quiet, but firm. “Not for another minute.”
“Father! You’re not listening. I won’t let him go, I don’t care if King George himself wants to adopt him.”
“It’s not for you to say, young lady.”
“I’ll just run away then. I’ll do it.”
“Well now, isn’t that mature? You’re certainly proving yourself a grown-up, aren’t you?”
Charlotte let the tears flow now. There was no point. Once again, Darcy started to cry and Charlotte knew he had to be getting hungry. Without a word, she lifted her blouse and began taking care of her baby’s need.
“What are you—? Oh, my Lord. Tell me this is not happening.” Her father turned his back, folding his hands together behind it.
Charlotte’s mother rolled her eyes. “How did you think she was feeding him, Edward? There has to be some way to work this out, Mrs. Shelton.”
With a quick glance at Charlotte, Mrs. Shelton took a deep breath and let it out. “There’s also the matter of Darcy’s health. We would have to disclose everything to any potential parents, of course.”
“His health? But Mrs. Marshall called him robust.” Charlotte’s mother looked at Darcy.
“And he certainly is, from all outward appearances. But his doctor has diagnosed a heart problem that may or may not bring future complications. The couple we were working with has already lost two children and did not want to assume the risk. I’m sorry.”
“He’s going to be just fine, Mother,” Charlotte cut in. “Chances are very good this will never be a problem, especially if he stays with me and keeps getting my milk.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. What kind of circus is this?” Her father’s posture was beginning to show signs of defeat.
“I think Charlotte is exaggerating on those last points,” Mrs. Shelton said. “There is nothing in the doctor’s report about that . . .”
Charlotte’s mother nodded. “I thought as much.”
“But she could have a point,” Mrs. Shelton continued. “Doctors don’t know everything. I’ve always thought mother’s milk was best for a baby.”
“It’s not your place to have an opinion, Mrs. Shelton.” Charlotte’s father placed his hat firmly on his head. “Now this argument has gone on long enough. I’m sure you have other clients. We’ll be back tomorrow, and I do want this settled by then. Charlotte, please take the baby and get in our car. We’ll stop wherever you’re staying, gather your things, and take you to our hotel with us.”
With that, he strode out the door and through the waiting room without a backward glance.
CHAPTER 32
After she and Reuben removed themselves to the waiting room, Maggie knew she should feel a weight lifted from her shoulders. Charlotte’s parents were here. For better or worse, they’d have to work things out as a family, and the matter was no longer her responsibility. Instead, her heart felt only heavier. She could see how devoted the girl had become, the bond between her and her baby an obvious one. She saw the change that had occurred in Charlotte, the kind of growth that can only result from someone loving another more than self. Maggie’s own heart would break for Charlotte if the girl were forced to say a forever good-bye to Darcy. For the first time, Maggie wished she’d been more empathetic with the other girls who’d given up their babies. In truth, she couldn’t bear the thought of saying good-bye to Darcy herself.
Reuben sat, hat in hand, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Was he praying or merely studying the pattern of the floor tiles? Maggie recognized that this might not be the best time to approach him about what was eating him, but then again, there might never be a good time.
“Thank you for being here, Reuben,” she began. He acknowledged her with only a slight nod. “If you need to get to work, we’ll all understand.”
“I don’t need to get to work.” He continued staring at the floor.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” When he didn’t respond, she tried again. “Look, I’ve leaned on you so much in the last while. Now I know something’s going on with you, something beyond Charlotte and the baby. You’re not yourself. I wish you’d trust me with it.”
Reuben lifted his face, but gazed only toward the reception desk. “I trust you, Maggie.”
“Well, then . . . ?”
The sigh that escaped ended in a slight tremble of his lips. “Let’s just say I am no longer pastor of Smith Street Community Church.”
Maggie wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. “What?”
“I need to start looking for a new job.”
“Since when?”
“Sunday. After service.”
“You mean you just up and quit?” Maggie hoped with everything in her that he’d say yes. Instead, a sense of foreboding entered her heart as she remembered the trite comments she’d made about him losing his job after taking off across the country with her. Surely it wasn’t that. But she could tell Reuben was struggling with his answer.
“I am very tempted to lie to you right now.” Finally, he looked at her. “But no. I did not quit. I’ve been given the boot. Please don’t ask why.”
“I don’t think I need to.”
Another sigh. “The thing is, I don’t know why I feel so bad about it. Those aren’t the sort of people I want to work with anyway. I just wish I had been able to help make them more compassionate people while I had the chance. Honestly, I probably should have quit a long time ago. But I liked the security.”
Maggie stared at Reuben’s profile and found herself resisting an urge to touch his back, to stroke his hair. “How hard is it for a pastor to find a new job? Don’t you have some kind of higher-ups who can appoint you elsewhere?”
“Only if I’m not fired. The assumption is, a fired pastor finds another line of work. I’ve been thinking of talking to Robert Broadford.”
“Isn’t he one of Mrs. O’Toole’s boarders?”
“Yes.” Reuben sat up straight in his chair and looked at Maggie. “He works for the Greater Winnipeg Victory Loan Organization. Perhaps I could be useful to them, do my bit for the war effort.”
Maggie didn’t hear what Reuben said next. She was trying to recall where she’d heard recently about a church in need of a pastor. Then it came to her. She reached into her purse and pulled out the letter from Cornelia Simpson.
“Have you ever thought about getting out of the city?” She unfolded Cornelia’s letter and found the sentences she was looking for.
“What do you mean?” Reuben’s gaze moved to the paper in Maggie’s hand.
“A little church in Roseburg is without a pastor. I know someone there.”
“Not sure myself, but we can find it on a road map easily enough. I don’t have many details.” She handed the letter to Reuben. “I’d put in a good word for you, though.”
When Reuben just looked at her, she added, “I’d tell them you understand what being a shepherd is truly about.”
“Thank you, Maggie.” She watched him jot down the names Stuart and Cornelia Baker, Roseburg on the little notepad he kept in his pocket, and then he handed the letter back to her.
As she tucked it into her purse, Maggie found herself instantly flooded with regret and hoped Reuben would forget all about the opportunity. Her heart was not ready to let him go.
Two hours later, dressed in her new pale blue uniform with white apron, Maggie was again rolling pastry dough at the Fort Garry. It felt good to be doing something she was competent at, something she could do practically in her sleep. Having only the baking to focus on was a breeze compared to running an entire restaurant, and she had plenty of time to think as she worked. The police and fire departments were still investigating; the insurance company still withholding funds. When Maggie had tried to contact Earl, there was no answer at his home. She and Mrs. O’Toole had returned to the property to clean up the garden, and Reuben had moved the contents of the toolshed to Mrs. O’Toole’s shed. Until something further happened, Maggie’s hands were tied. Soon Charlotte and Darcy would be gone; Reuben could be moving away. She was grateful for work to keep her busy. Maybe, she figured, she could even learn some new things from this classy joint to incorporate once she reopened Bert’s. If she reopened Bert’s. Or maybe the Fort Garry could learn a thing or two from her.
“We’ve always added a hint of nutmeg to our maple-pecan Danish here,” said Carl, the head chef, when he saw Maggie mixing her filling.
“Well. Now we don’t.” She sniffed and picked up her rolling pin to continue her work.
CHAPTER 33
Reuben dropped his envelope into the mailbox and began the walk home in the darkness. He had prayed about Maggie’s suggestion throughout the afternoon, then spent the evening composing his letter. Unable to sleep, he’d decided to step out for some fresh air and drop off the letter for the early morning pickup. How long would it take his query to reach Roseburg? His twenty-five-dollar monthly room and board was paid until the end of September, and he sincerely hoped he wouldn’t have to come up with October’s. Maybe Maggie was right. Getting away from Winnipeg and starting over might be the best idea. If he applied anywhere in the city, his references would be checked, and Elder Mitchell would be only too happy to supply his unhelpful opinion.