by Bess McBride
“Perhaps she is percipient, intuitive, apparently unlike myself. Does my brother know?”
Sally shook her head.
“No one knows. I went away to Chicago for your birth. I had nowhere to go, no family, and your mother convinced your father to bring me back here and to provide you a name and a home.”
John thought back on his parents’ visibly unhappy marriage.
“They were never happy together,” he mused.
“No, even before then, but the marriage deteriorated after your mother found out I was carrying his child. You.”
John’s heart went out to the mother he had always known, and he felt sympathy for the woman in front of him who had never known the love of a child.
He was exhausted from emotion, sad, and despondent. Loss seemed ever present at the moment. Amelia had lost her husband’s fidelity, Sally had lost the opportunity to raise her own child, and he was about to lose Gem. He should have been happy to gain a mother, but he was not. And he was at a loss for words.
He rose.
“We should discuss this again. We cannot go on with you working as a servant. Could you find another housekeeper and take your rightful place in the house?”
Sally jumped up.
“No! You cannot do that! The townspeople cannot know! If you will allow me to stay, I will continue as housekeeper, John.”
John stared at Sally, knowing she was right.
“I can provide a house for you if you wish to live on your own?”
Sally shook her head.
“I could not explain coming into such money that I could buy my own home. Nothing has to change, John.”
John thought about Sally. He thought about Gem.
“Everything is changing, Sally. Everything has changed.”
Chapter Seventeen
Gem opened her eyes at the sound of a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and John entered, balancing a tray in his one hand. She couldn’t help but smile.
“You carry a mean tray. You’d make an excellent waiter if this lawyering thing doesn’t work out.”
Of course, John didn’t smile, but the hard blue of his eyes didn’t soften as it had lately when he looked at her. He settled the tray of soup and bread on the bedside table.
She pushed herself upright and studied his face.
“Is something wrong?”
John bit his lip and seemed to struggle for an answer.
“How do you feel?”
“I’m okay,” Gem said. “I’m sorry about all the fuss.”
“No need to apologize.”
Gem suddenly remembered his last words, and a surge of pain shot up through her chest.
No, you do not belong here.
“I would like to discuss two things with you. One could wait, but the other cannot. Do you feel well enough?”
Dread robbed her of air momentarily.
“Yes?” she said with a wince.
“I do not mean to worry you. There is no need to look so apprehensive. One item of news should please you. But to begin with the other...I spoke to Sally. She confirmed that she is indeed my birth mother.”
Gem’s jaw dropped. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. “How do you feel about that?”
John shook his head. “I do not know yet. She wishes to continue on as housekeeper, fearing townspeople will discover her secret. I have to think about that. She has declined my offer to purchase her a house.”
“But how do you feel about having a living mother, one you never knew you had?”
John closed his eyes and looked away toward the window.
“I am tired of thinking about feelings,” he said in a bitter tone. “Please drink your broth. I should have insisted on that before I spoke.”
John handed Gem the bowl and then picked up the spoon and gave it to her. He looked away again, and Gem dropped her eyes to the broth in her hands. It smelled delicious, but she waited for the constriction in her throat to ease. If she drank at that moment, she would likely choke.
She moved to set the bowl down, but John caught her.
“No, you must drink, Gem.”
“I can’t. I’ll choke.”
“On the broth? Sally’s broth is normally very good. I thought it smelled quite nice.”
“Oh, it does. I just can’t drink it right now. My throat...” She let the words die out.
“Perhaps I should leave you in peace,” John said, uncrossing his legs as if to rise.
“No! No, don’t go! Tell me what it is you have to say. I can’t stand the suspense!”
John dropped his eyes to the bowl and then looked at Gem.
“I am making a mess of this whole thing. Promise me that you will drink something.”
“When you tell me what the second thing is, the thing that is supposed to make me happy. I’m worried that your idea of happiness and my idea aren’t the same.”
“Very well. I feel sure you will be pleased. I have purchased a ticket for you to return to Seattle tomorrow. It is possible—”
He stopped talking at Gem’s gasp.
“What am I going to do in Seattle? In 1905? Are you serious? Are you kicking me out?”
“No, Gem! No! I thought you would be pleased, but I was not able to finish my explanation. It is my hope for you, as I believe it is your hope, that you may travel back in time, that the time travel may be reversed if the procedure is reversed.”
A million things went through Gem’s mind, most of them arguments.
“But I just started a job!”
John ran a frustrated hand across his face.
“What would a job matter if you could return to your own time, as you have said you wanted?”
“I don’t know! It’s too soon!”
“I will see to your financial needs if you are not able to reverse the time travel, if you arrive in Seattle in present-day 1905. I am willing to assist you if you wish to stay in Seattle, even if you cannot return to your own time. Or any other place you wish to live.”
“But not here?”
John drew in a sharp breath.
“I do not believe that you wish to stay here. You have said as much. What life could you have here in this small town?”
Gem had imagined a life with John, but his words destroyed that vision. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she blinked them back.
“Gem, I thought you would be happy!”
“Did you?” she ground out. “Or maybe you would be happy.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
Gem slid out of bed and turned to face John.
“I’ll go! I’ll go since that will make you happy!”
John rose to face her.
“You are angry, and I do not understand why.”
“Nope, I guess you wouldn’t. I think I should be alone now, you know, drink the broth and everything. What time should I leave tomorrow?”
“The train leaves at noon,” John said, the bewilderment on his face only making Gem angrier.
“Fine. I’ll be ready at eleven. That’s just fine.”
“Gem, I don’t understand—”
“No, you don’t. I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I’m glad you found your mother. So I’ll let you go for now.”
She marched to the door and pulled it open. To her relief, John didn’t argue but left the room. Then she threw herself on the bed and sobbed.
Sometime later, when she had cried herself out, she sat up and grabbed the bowl of broth. She drank the salty liquid and pondered how her life had changed.
From her romantic musings of a long-dead quasi-ancestor to the reality of an emotionally damaged man had been a long journey across time and space. The myth of John Morrison had been taken from her, leaving her with nothing more than a man who wanted her gone.
She was in no doubt that she meant something to John. But he ran from emotion. She suddenly remembered their conversation earlier in the day when she had said she want
ed to go home.
She set the bowl down. She had done this. She had whined and fussed about going home, and John had done what he thought he could to make her happy. He had no idea how she felt about him, and it probably didn’t matter. A confirmed bachelor, he wasn’t interested in her as anything other than a lost time-traveling sort-of descendent.
He had been right to buy the ticket. It was time to leave. If she could. And if she couldn’t find her way back through time on the train, then she might as well continue on to Seattle and find a life there. To stay in Livingston would be torture. She would always yearn for John.
She couldn’t stay in his house forever. He wouldn’t want that. She would have to find her own place someday. John might meet her for lunch, for dinner occasionally, in a cousinly way, but generally, she would return to a silent apartment. Room? Boarding house? However sad little old ladies lived. She might see John on the street, pop in for tea in his office, but she could never be with him.
John didn’t want a relationship. He didn’t want romantic love. He didn’t want a wife or a family. Her love would hit brick walls every time she saw him. She couldn’t bear it.
Yes, it was time to leave. Maybe she had been thrust back in time to tell John about his family, about his mother. She wasn’t sure how that would change his life in any significant way. If anything, it would only change Sally’s standing in the house, and maybe that’s why she’d traveled back in time—to help Sally. That idea didn’t particularly resonate with Gem though. It made little sense. For all that Sally had worked as a housekeeper most of her adult life, she hadn’t wanted for anything.
But if helping John discover his mother had been Gem’s little task in her time traveling adventure, then her job was done. It was time to go.
Gem crossed to the door and turned the key in the lock, following which she stayed in her room for the rest of the day. She found notepaper and an ink pen and wrote a note to Nancy, letting her know that she had been called out of town on an emergency with no specific return date. Gem set the note aside with the intention of giving it to John in the morning.
She ignored the tap on her door some hours later, pretending to be asleep again. If she were to find the strength to leave John behind, then she couldn’t dine with him, visit with him, talk to him. She had already said goodbye in her heart. All that was left was to say the words aloud the following day at the front door.
Later in the evening, Gem, sitting in a chair in the darkened room and staring out the window, heard another tap on her door.
“Gem, are you sleeping?” John spoke softly through the door. “Do you need anything?”
She didn’t answer. She said another silent goodbye and returned to staring out the window. Eventually, she crawled into bed but slept only fitfully, terrified that she had lost valuable time with John, yet more terrified that she would beg him to let her stay, to love her as she loved him, as she had always loved him.
As the gray light of dawn broke through the window, Gem changed into another blouse and skirt, laced up her shoes and gathered up
her twenty-first century clothing to stuff into a pillowcase. She fingered the brooch John had bought for her but left it behind on the dresser.
Gem unlocked her door and tiptoed down to the bathroom to wash up before returning to her room. Locking the bedroom door behind her, she sat down to wait until it was time to leave for the train station. In the absence of a clock, she hoped John would let her know when it was time to leave.
She had expected John to knock at breakfast, and he didn’t fail.
“Gem? Are you awake?”
She heard the doorknob rattle.
“Gem? I am worried about you. Are you awake?”
This time, she answered. “Yes, what time is it?”
“Nine o’clock. Why don’t you come down to breakfast? You need to eat.”
“I’m not hungry, thanks. Let me know when it’s time to leave.”
“Gem! You have to eat and drink. Doctor’s orders.”
“I’m not hungry, thanks,” she said like a broken record. “I finished the broth, so I’m okay.”
She stared at the bowl and now dry bread without appetite.
“Are you going to stay in your room until we leave for the train station?”
“We?” Gem asked. She rose and approached the door, keeping a few feet between them. “Not we. I’ll go on my own, John. I know you don’t like trains. I’ll be fine.”
“Nonsense,” he said. “Of course I will see you off.”
“No, I don’t want you to. You probably have work to do, right?”
“Gem, do not be ridiculous. I am going to take you to the train station.”
“Okay, fine!” she said, whirling from the door.
“And you don’t want any breakfast?”
“No, thank you. Come get me when it’s time.”
“Very well.”
Gem fought against the tears that filled her eyes. She didn’t want her last moments with John to be filled with so much anger, so much pain, but she didn’t know how to say goodbye gracefully.
She buried her face in her hands and wondered what was to come.
Chapter Eighteen
John could do nothing more than sip his coffee at breakfast.
“Is Miss Holliday coming down to breakfast?” Sally asked.
John looked at his housekeeper—his mother—with new eyes. He wasn’t certain how he felt about her at the moment, but he regarded her in a different light. He really did not know if he could show her the love a son should show his mother, but he vowed that he would treat her with respect. The matter of her future was yet to be settled.
“No, she said she is not hungry. I should probably inform you that Gem is leaving today. She is taking the train back to Seattle.”
“Truly?”
John did not like the elation in her voice.
“Truly,” he said flatly.
“Good! I do not know who she is, but as I said, she is not related to you, that I know.”
“You are right, Sally. She is not related to me after all. She is related to Amelia. Did you remember that my mother’s name—” He paused to correct himself. “That Amelia’s maiden name was Holliday? But Amelia was not my mother. So no, Gem is not related to me. That is not good. That is not bad. It simply is.”
“Well, I would seriously doubt that she is related to Amelia either. However, I am glad that you did not allow yourself to fall prey to her schemes. Was it your idea to send her packing?”
John blew out a frustrated sigh. His vow to treat his birth mother with respect was already being sorely tested.
“Sally! Mother! Enough! I will not hear this kind of talk about her. I simply will not tolerate it. If you want to continue to live in this house, then you will let me go. You have long tried to tether me, and I never really understood why. It didn’t bother me in the past. I really didn’t care. And after my accident, I cared about nothing. But all that has changed. I will not allow you to continue to attempt to control me and my life.”
Sally’s face hardened, and her cheeks colored.
“I think it best, Sally, if we find you a nice home of your own,” John said, rising. “You may tell townsfolk that you came into an inheritance, and in fact, you probably have.”
Sally’s face crumpled, and John weakened for a moment, again surprised at the woman’s unusual tears. He patted her on the shoulder.
“It is time, Mother,” he said, the words unnatural. “It is time for you to retire, to rest.”
Sally drew in a ragged breath and met his eyes.
“I wish that woman had never told you about me. And I wish I knew how she learned of it.”
“She guessed. That is all. She guessed. I will be in my study until it is time to take Gem to the train station.”
He left the breakfast room and whiled away the time in his study, doing nothing at all until the clock showed ten. He climbed the stairs as if he climbed toward the guillotine. In so
me way, he felt as if his life was changing yet again, but not for the better.
Loss. He felt loss, and his missing limb ached. He would miss Gem desperately, but she wanted to return home, and he could not force her to stay.
He tapped on her door.
“It is time, Gem.” Even his words sounded final. He gritted his teeth and stepped back as Gem opened the door. Stunningly beautiful in a pale ivory lace blouse and chocolate brown skirt, the jauntiness of her straw boater was at odds with her rigid expression. She carried a stuffed pillowcase.
“What have you there?” he asked.
“My real clothes,” she said, her voice as cold as her eyes.
“I have a bag you can take. What about the rest of your clothing?”
“No, this is fine if you don’t mind me taking one of your pillowcases. I don’t want to wait around for you to find a bag. I won’t need the rest of the clothing, right? Or maybe I will. I don’t know. All I know is that I’m ready to go. I’d like to go now actually.”
John, as if assaulted by the anger emanating from her person, took another step back. Gem passed him without a glance and headed for the stairs. He could do little but follow in her wake. She swept out of the house and marched down the sidewalk, forcing him to lengthen his stride to catch up with her.
“You have plenty of time before the train arrives, Gem,” he said quietly.
“I think you should leave when we get there. You don’t need to wait for the train to come.”
The cold, dismissive tone in her voice tore at his heart. He missed the warm, kindhearted woman he had come to know, and she hadn’t yet left.
“I want to wait, Gem. I still have to give you your ticket and funds as we discussed.”
Gem held out a hand, still refusing to look at him.
“I’ll take the ticket, thank you. I can’t repay you. I don’t want any money. Okay, maybe a dollar or two to get something to eat and drink on the train. Oh, darn, okay, maybe a small loan in case I get to Seattle in 1905. I won’t have any place to stay. I would have no family there, no ancestors I could impose on again.”
John did not know which comment from her torrential words to address first.
“Here is your ticket,” he said, withdrawing it from his pocket and handing it to her. “Take three hundred dollars and telegram me for more if you do not manage to return to your own time.” He pressed the bills into her hand as well.
