Natasha's Hope

by Heather Greenis

  “Of course,” Adam responded.

  “Did you court any volunteers before you became acquainted with Momma?”

  “One or two. Has a volunteer attracted your attention?”

  Hope peeked around the corner, able to see the back on her son’s head. Adam was out of view. Alex nervously scratched the back of his neck.

  “She has a handsome face. Were there repercussions?”

  “They did not continue volunteering,” Adam responded casually.

  “Nothing is more important than the orphanage. We cannot lose volunteers. I will ignore her—”

  “You will do no such thing,” Adam responded forcefully.

  Pride filled Hope’s being. Adam didn’t raise his voice often, but this was important. Relationships had to be encouraged.

  “We have a number of helpers who are dedicated to the children,” Adam continued. “You must put me out of my misery and tell me the name of the young woman who has captivated your attention.”

  “I will not. I must gain the nerve to ask her out.” Alex stood. Hope stepped back, not wishing to be caught listening. “I pray she approaches me and saves me this agony.”

  Not at all surprised by her son’s comment, Hope smiled. She crossed the hall, and walked into the study room.

  * * *

  After their evening meal, Stewart and Izabella retired to their sitting room to play cards.

  “Stewart.”

  He looked up to see his son-in-law at the door. “Adam, do come in.”

  “That is not necessary, but I require your assistance for a moment.”

  “Certainly,” Stewart responded, placing his cards on the table.

  “The time has come for the ‘adult talk’ with Alex,” Adam informed him. “I recall years ago being informed you excel on the topic,” he teased.

  Stewart slumped onto his chair. Izabella chuckled.

  “I was hoping you would jump at the offer to speak with my son.”

  Izabella’s chuckle turned to a laugh. Adam grinned.

  “There are days I miss my shy son-in-law,” Stewart admitted, shaking his head. “I believe I have assisted with the first step, allowing Alex to read Natasha’s diary. Scoot,” he instructed. He wiggled his fingers, waving Adam away. His son-in-law chuckled and walked out of their room.

  “I adore his wit,” Izabella admitted, “but he will be dreading this conversation.”

  “Two men will be uncomfortable and blushing in that room.”

  * * *

  Hope joined Rose on the buggy and watched as Alex hopped up before Adam joined them. After confirming he had the list of necessary items in his possession, Adam motioned for the horses. They headed toward the town.

  Adam left Hope and Rose at a retail department store while he and Alex continued to the mercantile for orphanage supplies.

  “You seem to be attracting attention,” Adam informed his son.

  “Pop-pa.” Alex blushed.

  Hoping to be discreet, Adam kept his attention straight ahead. “They’re not bashful about looking at you.”

  “If they are interested in getting to know me, I suggest they volunteer at the orphanage.”

  “It’s considered acceptable for a young man to approach a young woman with the intent to court her. It’s unlikely they will approach you.”

  Alex shook his head. “If I recall, Momma approached you.”

  “True,” he admitted. “To be honest, I was as nervous and shy as you at your age.”

  The men finished their errands and joined the women for lunch. They took their places at the square table with the women facing the men. Keeping his voice lowered, Adam spoke to Hope and Rose of their conversation.

  “Don’t tease,” Hope criticized. “You were as shy as your son.”

  “That is not possible,” Rose remarked. “No one could be as shy as Alex.”

  Alex never responded, keeping his focus on his glass of milk.

  * * *

  Alex applied to Picton University intending to study business with a minor in child psychology. Matthew graduated with a degree in both architecture and engineering. The entire family attended the convocation. With the ceremony complete, Matthew took Stewart, Izabella, Greg, and Vicki to meet the teaching staff. To say the faculty was thrilled would be an understatement. Chatter quickly filled the room as the gazes shifted to Stewart.

  “If you would excuse me, I’d like to speak with my classmates,” Matthew informed them.

  “I need fresh air,” Stewart informed them. Izabella, Greg and Vicki followed him outside.

  “Have you spoken to Matthew regarding his future?” Stewart asked Greg. “As a partner in my company, you have the authority.”

  “No. I have not spoken to Matt for a multitude of reasons,” Greg replied. “Primarily, I feel my son would appreciate hearing the good news from his uncle and tutor.”

  Stewart smiled, agreeing with the comment. “And the other reasons?”

  “I am happy to hire the crew knowing they report directly to me, but for this position, Matt will be hired as an engineer and architect.”

  Stewart chuckled. “Could it be you find it difficult to hire a position that replaces me?”

  “Yes,” Greg admitted, raising his eyebrows. “The company bears your name. The day you officially retire, there won’t be a Donovan on staff. Donovan and Carson will employ three Carsons.”

  “I should have adopted a son when Hope was young,” Stewart teased. “What was I thinking? Perhaps I should have insisted Hope pull up her sleeves and work with the crew learning to build. Good manual labour for a young woman.”

  “E-enough,” Greg lectured. “Would you be so kind as to speak with my son? I wish to congratulate him on his new position. That is, assuming he is willing to work with his parents.”

  * * *

  Confident of a secure future, Matt placed a ring on Caroline’s finger. Sunday afternoon, Matthew and Caroline arrived at the orphanage before his parents and sister.

  “I hear congratulations are in order.” Stewart welcomed the young couple into the lobby. Caroline handed him an envelope.

  “That is an invitation to our wedding,” Matt informed him. “It’s addressed to ‘Mr. Stewart Donovan and Guest’. I wished to write Izabella’s name but Momma insisted on this greeting.”

  “I will be escorting Izabella.”

  “Escorting Izabella!” Alex rushed down the main staircase. “A date has been set then?”

  Caroline nodded and smiled proudly.

  “I would like you to stand by my side during the ceremony, Alex,” Matthew informed his cousin.

  Alex was almost airborne as he descended the remainder of the steps.

  “I’d be honoured…,” he responded exuberantly. He paused, a slight scowl wrinkling his brow. “That is, if you assure me I’m not expected to give a speech.”

  “My dear cousin. You have my assurance I will not ask that of you,” Matt replied.

  Alex beamed with pride.

  * * *

  Alex began his studies at Picton University. He invited male acquaintances to the orphanage regularly to partake in ball games with the older children. Eager to make new acquaintances, Rose and her chums would stand about and giggle, to the delight of the young men. Stewart and Izabella sat back and chuckled at the sight.

  Every evening, Alex knocked on Stewart’s door. Izabella retreated to her sitting room, and the two men would chat about Alex’s day at school. After finishing another conversation about Natasha, Stewart retrieved his journal from the night table.

  “This cannot be compared to the diary, Alex.” Stewart handed his grandson the book.

  He returned to the sofa and took a sip from his glass of water. Alex opened the first page.

  “Your nana wrote from the depth of her heart, something I wasn’t capable of, but I believe I’ve improved over the years. I began writing after Natasha’s death and allowed your momma to write as she aged. I still record my thoughts most nights. I bel
ieve your momma does as well.”

  “Your lives together. Momma and Poppa’s love story,” Alex remarked. He placed the book against his chest.

  “An ongoing love story. I’ve never read your momma’s notes, nor has she read mine since Izabella entered our lives, but I would like you to read this and add to the notes. I suggest you begin a journal. I enjoy writing my thoughts more than I expected.”

  “I will begin reading it this evening.”

  Alex left, closing the door behind him. Izabella appeared from her sitting room.

  “Was Hope aware you were giving Alex the journal this evening?” she asked. She sat on the sofa beside him.

  “No,” he admitted. “It was not planned, but the timing seemed appropriate.”

  She raised her eyebrows and pressed her lips together. “Am I wrong to assume she may have written about events she doesn’t want her children to read? I suggest you speak with your daughter.”

  I did not consider that. Stewart bit his bottom lip. “I will go to Hope.” He stood and walked into the hallway. He found Hope in her evening attire and shawl, sitting on the chair by the window, working on her needlepoint. Adam was sitting on the chair by the window, reading.

  “I have not seen you with that in some time,” he remarked, nodding at the cloth in her hand. “Your nana Donovan attempted to teach the craft to your momma, but Natasha struggled with it. She did not find needlepoint relaxing, but she did enjoy doodling. She was quite creative with her designs.” He leaned against the doorframe.

  “Rose lacks the patience for needlework but she adores drawing. Her creativity must come from Momma. I was reminded of Nana Donovan earlier this evening. Rose has a similar laugh. I miss Nana and Papa. Perhaps that is why I’m doing needlepoint this evening.”

  “Alex just returned to his room after our visit.” He fidgeted with his suspenders. “I spoke to Alex about the journal we keep. I gave it to him. He plans to begin reading it this evening.”

  Hope dropped the needle on the cloth and covered her face with her hands. “Poppa,” she exclaimed anxiously.

  “Hope, what do you write?” Adam questioned, looking over his spectacles at her.

  “Everything,” she admitted. She turned her attention to her father. “I have written details over the years. As Momma did.”

  Adam turned his head, but not before his face went scarlet red. Stewart snickered.

  “As I recall, you both read private details of Natasha and me. Allow me to assure you, he will be reading details of my relationship with Izabella. A true union of souls, I’m in love with her. Our relationship is no more platonic than yours with Adam.”

  “You’re not easing my guilty conscience. I was quite aggressive when pursuing Adam.”

  Adam titled his head down, covering his face with his hands. Stewart was about to comment about seeing Hope and Adam after their time at the pond, but looked at Adam. I can’t do it. Sealing his lips on the topic, he didn’t want his son-in-law humiliated. He still recalled his embarrassment when his poppa spoke about the twinkle in his own eyes. The signal he and Izabella had become intimate.

  “Alex is aware of your personality and traits,” he reassured her. “Rose is worse. You are reserved like your momma. Rose does not possess that quality. As you recall, I did not take a passive role when pursuing your momma. I was more aggressive when pursing Izabella.”

  “Oh, Poppa. I’m embarrassed.”

  “You are in love, as I am.”

  “Hope, did you write of the tornado? About George and his death?” Adam asked.

  “Of course.”

  “As did I, Adam,” Stewart admitted, questioning the comment.

  “Alex and the children were told George was adopted. He was too young to be told the truth.”

  “Oh my word,” Stewart groaned. “I did not consider that.”

  “We must speak with our son and daughter, tomorrow. It must come from us before he reads about that horrific event and the days that followed.”

  “Yes,” Hope agreed, nodding at her husband. “We will speak with Alex tomorrow. We’ll tell him the truth and why we kept it from him and the other children. He’ll be upset his friend passed, but he’ll understand our reasoning.”

  * * *

  “Oops.” Keeghan looked at Alex and then Will. “I can’t believe Stewart didn’t talk to Hope and Adam before he gave Alex the journal. Little late now to take it back. The forbidden journal.”

  “For a smart guy, he doesn’t always think things through,” Will added.

  “Nope,” Keeghan agreed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When Alex began classes at Picton, more than one female glanced his way. Uncomfortable with the scrutiny, he stared at the ground a great deal of the time. Fortunately, the bolder ones that wished to become acquainted with him took the initiative. There were a few quieter girls he cast his eye on, but they never spoke to him. He never had the opportunity to get to know them.

  Alex spent time with a number of women, but did not extend an invitation to meet his family. He saw no need.

  “Is this chair occupied?” a female voice asked, intruding on his thoughts.

  Alex jumped. Engrossed in reviewing his psychology notes at the back of the lecture hall, he didn’t see her approach.

  Glancing up, his eyes locked on an attractive blonde woman. His heart pounded. He stared at the papers in his hands. His mother’s voice echoed in his head. ‘Alexander. Your manners!’

  He put the notes down, stood, and pulled the chair out for her, meeting her gaze. He was mildly surprised at how much shorter she was than his six foot frame.

  “My name is Christine,” she said. She accepted the proffered chair.

  “Alexander,” he responded, swallowing convulsively in order to get the words out. He nervously scratching the back of his neck. “Alex.”

  Planning to continue reviewing his notes, Christine began chatting. He looked her way, but his mind drifted to the journal. His mother approached his father for the first time during a class they shared. He fought an inward smile. He was still listening to Christine when the professor arrived.

  The lectured ended.

  “Would you be interested in joining me for a coffee between classes?”

  “Yes. That would be nice,” he managed to respond.

  Sitting at a table, Christine began chatting and Alex listened.

  “Tell me about yourself.”

  He took a deep breath, attempting to control his voice. “My parents own an orphanage. It’s my plan to relieve them of their duties once I graduate.”

  “The Venderkemp Orphanage. I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been there.”

  “I’m proud of the reputation we’ve established and maintained. We are busy, but it is gratifying.”

  “It is not close to the school.”

  “No, but I enjoy the solitude of the journey before and after school knowing it is difficult to get peace and quiet while in the company of the children. That said, I look forward to being in their company.”

  By the end of their visit, they decided to study together. A Donovan tradition would continue. Alex and Christine became inseparable, together whenever possible.

  Alex was visiting Papa Stewart in his sitting room, discussing his day.

  “You are keeping a secret from me. You possess the Donovan twinkle. You’ve met someone special.”

  His eyes snapped shut. “I had no idea it was so obvious. Yes. I’ve been spending time with a female classmate. You cannot speak of this, Papa. Promise me. I’m not prepared to invite Christine to the orphanage.”

  “I promise.”

  Alex accepted an invitation to dine with Christine’s family. Upon his arrival at the modest two-storey stone residence, his clammy hands struggled to tie his horse by the water trough. Moving his tongue within his mouth, he half expected to spit out sand. He wiped his hands on his jacket and took a deep breath before placing one hand over his pounding heart.

  Glancing
toward the house, he noticed Christine standing at the door.

  “You look beautiful.”

  She led him into the parlour. Within minutes of settling on the sofa, an older woman entered the room, smiling. The gentleman with her was a little shorter than Alex, his green eyes in sharp contrast to the silver of his hair. Her parents.

  “Momma and Poppa,” Christine confirmed. “This is Alex.”

  After the introductions were over the older couple engaged him in light conversation. The manservant escorted the party to the dining room, and Alex was shown to a seat beside Christine. Her siblings, two brothers and a sister, arrived and sat at the other side of the table. Once her brothers began chatting, Alex relaxed and joined the conversation.

  With the meal over, Christine took Alex for a walk around the property.

  “I’d like to meet your family, Alex.”

  “Um, I….”

  “Alex. Please.”

  This feels right. Christine deserves an opportunity to meet my family. “I will speak with Momma and arrange a dinner.”

  When it was time to depart for the evening, Christine accompanied him to the barn. She stopped him just inside the entrance, stretched up and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. A first kiss that he would always cherish. His mounted the mare and left with a final wave. Alex managed to contain his emotions until he was out of her sight, but was unable to remove the grin from his face the entire ride home.

  The following day, Alex stepped into the office where both his parents were working.

  “I have a friend I’d like the family to meet.”

  “A female friend?” Momma asked, her eyes as bright as the mid-day sun.

  “Yes.”

  “Invite her to dine with us on Saturday, Alex.”