He took the envelope, thanked her, and climbed the stairs to his room, eager to lie down for a few minutes before dinner. When he read the note, though, he suddenly wasn’t tired anymore.
A party hosted by Kitty Clark and Miriam Johnson . . . He didn’t know Miriam Johnson, but that was of no consequence. Miss Clark had invited him to a party, and yes, of course he’d go. The opportunity to spend more time with her, even though he was sure he was one of many invited and not a particular favorite, was worth gold. Now it was a matter of remaining patient until Saturday night.
Kitty supposed she could admit to being just a little bit excited to see her brother. He was a scoundrel, no doubt about it, but he was her brother, and she did love him even when he was being … well … a scoundrel. She gave his pillow an extra thump and set it on his bed, which had been freshly changed and aired. She’d put some wildflowers in a vase on the dresser just because she thought they looked nice, not because he’d appreciate them, and his room was now ready. She closed the door so the twins wouldn’t go in and rumple things up, and then she went downstairs to see what her mother was doing so late in the kitchen.
“I’m just finishing up this cake,” Evangeline said when Kitty asked. “I thought it would be nice with lunch tomorrow. Geordie comes in at eleven, and he’s sure to be hungry.”
“And you’re sure to exhaust yourself,” Kitty said. “I can finish the cake—why don’t you go to bed?”
“Hmm. A nap and going to bed early? You’re spoiling me,” Evangeline said with a smile.
“This isn’t early, Mother. You should have been in bed an hour ago.”
“I remember when I could stay up all night and catch up on projects while you children were asleep. When was the last time I could do that . . .?”
“Not since the twins came,” Kitty told her.
“Yes, they do take a lot of my energy—chasing them saps me dry.”
Kitty didn’t think it was just a matter of chasing them. Evangeline was just as tired when she woke up as she was when she went to bed. “Scoot, Mother—I’ve got this. And if the girls wake up in the night, I’ve got that too.”
“Do you?” Evangeline looked at her daughter with grateful eyes. “Thank you.”
“You haven’t slept the night through in ages. It’s about time.” Kitty waved her mother out of the kitchen, then turned her attention to finishing the cake. The peaches had been collected and were waiting in the cupboard, and they’d be having Geordie’s favorite dinner, too—herbed roasted chicken and red potatoes. Gracious—if such a fuss would be made over her every time she came home, maybe she’d go to college too.
Except that she really didn’t want to …
She set the cake in the pantry, then washed up the few dishes her mother had left behind. Her mother always washed as she baked or cooked—she never left anything in the basin. Just another indicator that something wasn’t right. When Kitty was done, she dried her hands, went into the parlor, and took out some stationery.
A quick letter to Dr. Wayment would set everything in motion. If Evangeline wouldn’t take her health more seriously, Kitty would have to do it for her.
She outlined all the changes she’d noticed in her mother over the last eighteen months, hoping she was giving enough information to be useful, and asked Dr. Wayment for his opinion. Then she folded the letter and tucked it into her reticule. She’d take it with her when they went to pick up Geordie at the station the next morning. It was all in Dr. Wayment’s hands now—if he felt there was something to be concerned about, he’d be in touch.
Kitty just hoped her mother wouldn’t be angry with her for taking the matter over.
She paused, her hand near the stack of clean pages. Should she write to her father? He always kept them apprised of his itinerary, and it would be a simple matter of sending a telegram to the hotel where he was staying that week. He ought to know what was going on, but Kitty also knew that her mother tried not to worry him while he was away.
Kitty shook her head. By blocking their father from knowing about their troubles, weren’t they also blocking him from truly being a part of their lives? How could he be involved as their father when they weren’t asking him to fill a fatherly role? Yes, he provided an income, but what about advice and counsel, which were also part of being a father? He couldn’t advise them if he didn’t know what was wrong.
She’d wait and see what Dr. Wayment had to say, and if it was something to be concerned about, she’d encourage her mother to send the telegram. It was her mother’s place to make the decision, after all. But if she refused and the situation was dire, Kitty would need to make the contact. Her father couldn’t be left in the dark if things were serious.
Kitty puffed out a breath and rose from the desk. She didn’t blame her mother for being overwhelmed by the situation—it was a lot to deal with. She just couldn’t help but think it would be more manageable if her father were there to be a support.
Chapter Eight
Justin rose early the next morning so he could take a stroll before breakfast. He’d noticed how much calmer his mind had seemed the night before after getting a little exercise, and he thought it might be useful to start his day more relaxed as well. The pieces he’d been working on with Mrs. Perry were exhilarating to master, but exhausting to complete, and he felt like a tangled ball of nerves.
The morning air was delightful. The heat of the day wouldn’t set in for hours yet, and there was just a hint of the night’s chill remaining. Morning light always seemed more golden than any other time of day, and he realized that he’d forgotten to appreciate things like that—he’d been so downcast about his illness and worried about his future that he’d been keeping his head down. What a foolish thing to do—if he’d concentrated more on the beauty around him, perhaps he wouldn’t have become so discouraged. Beauty gave him hope—it always had.
When he heard the whistle of the first train of the day, he circled back around and approached the hotel once more, ready for breakfast. He wasn’t looking forward to ingesting the herbs he carried in his pocket, but they did seem to be helping, so he’d press on with his regimen. At least with the morning dose, he could chase it with some food so the flavor didn’t linger in his mouth.
As he neared the hotel, he glanced over at the train station and smiled to see all the people climbing off and stumbling for a moment to get their sea legs after experiencing the rattling of the train. He knew that sensation all too well—his journey from Vermont had taken several days, and several chances to weave around like a drunkard while getting the strength back in his knees.
Was that Miss Clark waiting on the platform? He shielded his eyes from the sun to get a better look. Yes, there she was, looking radiant in a peach dress and matching hat. He smiled, remembering the lavender dress and hat she’d worn the other day—she must enjoy color, and she certainly chose well for her complexion. She looked like a work of art.
As he watched, a tall young man approached her and held out his arms, and she threw herself into them. They hugged for a long moment, and he lifted her into the air and then set her back on her feet. Justin felt a pang shoot through his chest. Mrs. Brody had said she didn’t think Miss Clark was attached, but perhaps Mrs. Brody had missed something—or perhaps this was a secret relationship that was only just now being made public. He tried to push down his disappointment. He had no right to feel that way—he barely knew the girl—and yet his emotions were real. He couldn’t deny them.
But then an older woman stepped forward to hug him, and he scooped her up much the same way. That must be his mother—but she was dressed so similarly to Miss Clark that Justin had assumed she was Miss Clark’s mother. When the man set her down, Justin had a clearer look at his features, and he immediately felt sheepish. Of course—this was Miss Clark’s brother. They had the same coloring, the same smile, the same tilt of the chin. He shouldn’t have assumed they were romantically involved, not until he had more evidence to support his theory.
Even as he felt sheepish, though, he also felt a tremendous amount of relief. He’d take that mild embarrassment a dozen times over if it meant that Miss Clark really wasn’t attached after all.
He entered the hotel and was seated in the dining room, glad to be a few steps ahead of the train passengers who would be streaming in momentarily. Mrs. Brody came up to him with a smile. “I hope you’re hungry, Mr. Sorenson. Ruth, our cook, has been experimenting again, and breakfast promises to be delicious.”
“All the food that comes out of your kitchen is delicious, but I’m definitely eager to give it a try.” He glanced around at the people now pouring in and the scarcity of young ladies in aprons. “You seem a bit short on waitresses today, Mrs. Brody.”
She chuckled. “That’s nearly always the case. Our hotel is either magical or cursed—we haven’t decided which—but every waitress who comes to work for us ends up falling in love, getting married, and leaving. Well, a couple stayed, but most of them leave. It’s the most frustrating thing because we’re always training someone new.”
“Perhaps you should advertise the magical qualities of the hotel and encourage the lovelorn to come here and give it a try,” Justin suggested.
“You know, there might be some merit in that.” Mrs. Brody grinned. “I’ll be right back with your breakfast—and your hot water, correct?”
“That’s right.” He gave her a nod. With all the guests and travelers she interacted with on a daily basis, it was remarkable how she remembered what each of them needed.
A familiar voice caught his attention, and he turned to see Miss Clark entering the dining room along with the older woman and the young man. The tables were filling up quickly, and he could see the waitress in charge of seating arrangements glancing around for a place to put them. Justin rose, smiling, and the waitress shot him a return smile as she guided the group over.
“I hope you don’t mind sharing, but sometimes we do get rather full,” she said.
“I don’t mind sharing at all—I hope that’s all right with you,” Justin said to the group.
“We’re glad of your hospitality, Mr. Sorenson,” Miss Clark said as she took her seat. “I’d much rather sit with you than a total stranger.”
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” the other woman said, extending her head. “I’m Evangeline Clark, Kitty’s mother, and this is my son, Geordie. He’s home on a break from school.”
Justin took Mrs. Clark’s hand, then shook hands with Geordie as well. “I’m glad to know you. I had the chance to meet Miss Clark the other day—I see that her charms run through the family as well.”
Mrs. Clark raised an eyebrow. “A bit on the charming side yourself, I see.”
Justin grinned. “Once in a while.”
“Geordie surprised us today,” Mrs. Clark went on. “We were expecting him on the eleven o’clock train, but then we got a telegram saying he was leaving early. I was prepared to feed him a nice lunch, but didn’t have a thing on hand for breakfast. Thank goodness the hotel always makes something nice.”
“I couldn’t hang around school another minute, not when I knew I was so close to coming home,” Geordie said. “You know I’m not a patient sort.”
“Yes, we know,” Miss Clark said, a wry note in her voice.
“I’m just glad you managed to get word to us in time for me to find a sitter for the twins,” Mrs. Clark went on. “I can’t imagine bringing them to the station—they’d likely try to hijack the train—and I also couldn’t imagine not being there to greet you myself.”
Miss Clark turned to Justin. “We have two of the most adorable toddlers back at home—adorable if you like miniature assassins, that is.”
Justin laughed. “Aren’t most toddlers assassins?”
“Yes, but these more than most.” Miss Clark shook her head. “I’m positive that we’re going to miss this stage of their development when they finally outgrow it, but for now, we’re constantly on the alert.”
“I can’t wait to see the little rascals,” Geordie said. “They always grow so much while I’m gone—do you think they’ll remember me this time?”
“Well, even if they don’t, you’ll win them over again,” Miss Clark told him. “You’re their favorite playmate when you’re home.”
Breakfast was delicious, just as Mrs. Brody had promised, and Justin enjoyed listening to the banter between the Clark family members. Again, it was the sort of humor he appreciated, and he thought once again about his somewhat taciturn parents. He was beginning to realize that perhaps their solemnity was their reaction to their life struggles—perhaps they needed to remind themselves of the beauty that surrounded them, to find the hope they might be missing.
For some reason, butterflies came to mind, and he decided that when he was done training with Mrs. Perry, he’d return home and take his parents out in search of butterflies. There was something so freeing in watching their graceful movement on the air.
He wondered if Miss Clark enjoyed butterflies.
He was so caught up in his thoughts and also in the company at the table—the very beautiful company—that he nearly forgot to take his herbal mixture until he noticed the glass of water still sitting next to his plate. He quickly pulled the envelope from his pocket and dumped the contents into the glass, stirring it up and drinking it before he could think about it too much.
“I say, did you just eat a bunch of yard clippings?” Geordie asked, sounding amused.
“Very nearly,” Justin replied. “Dr. Wayment has me drinking all sorts of vile things to heal my vocal cords, and I’m starting to feel like a goat out grazing in the alfalfa fields.”
“But is it helping?” Miss Clark asked.
“I believe so. There’s less of a rasp in my voice, and a bit less pain.”
“Then it’s all worth it,” she concluded.
“Oh, yes. The taste is dreadful, but I’m willing to endure it.”
Mrs. Clark glanced at the clock. “Goodness—we need to be going. Mr. Sorenson, thank you again for sharing your table, and I’m very glad to have made your acquaintance.”
“It was my pleasure.” Justin rose as the Clarks stood, then leaned over a bit toward Miss Clark. “I was very glad to get your invitation. I’ll be there.”
“Oh, good,” she replied, a genuine smile appearing on her face. “I’m so glad.”
Mrs. Brody was right—Miss Clark didn’t seem to be holding a grudge over their first meeting. Maybe they could start over again and get to know each other under different conditions.
Chapter Nine
As they were leaving the hotel, Kitty managed to stop by the front desk and leave her letter to Dr. Wayment, knowing the Brodys often delivered messages for their guests. She was still concerned about overstepping her boundaries, but when it came to her mother’s health, she was ready to do whatever it took. She just hoped her mother wouldn’t be too angry with her about it.
She wasn’t at all surprised when Geordie hopped up into the driver’s seat of the buggy. She didn’t mind relinquishing the reins to him, but she did wish that he’d ask instead of just assuming he should drive because he was the man of the house. Then she swallowed, forcing a smile. She really was glad to see him—she shouldn’t allow herself to become so irritated, especially when he’d only been home half an hour.
“My mathematics professor knows practically nothing,” Geordie said as they began their short trip home. “He drones on and on about theories, but he never discusses application. How is that an education?”
“Isn’t the name of the class Mathematical Theory?” Evangeline asked. “And wouldn’t it stand to reason that it would discuss theory?”
“Yes, but not to the exclusion of everything else,” Geordie replied. “So I decided my time was better spent elsewhere.”
Evangeline glanced over at Kitty, who was struggling not to say what was on her mind. “Son, are you even going to graduate? Every time you mention your actual attendance, I worry about you.”
“You don’t need to worry, Mother.” Geordie flashed her a smile. “I might not be attending all my classes, but I do show up for the exams, and I haven’t failed one yet.”
“I don’t know how that’s even possible.”
“I read through the books the night before.” Geordie guided the buggy around a corner. “I have a rather good memory, you know.”
“Yes, I do know, but I wish you’d take your education more seriously.” Evangeline pressed her lips together, and Kitty guessed that she too was fighting to hold back everything she wanted to say.
“Let’s not worry so much about school, Mother. I’m here on break, after all, and I’d like to think about having fun instead. Is anything exciting going on?”
“Miriam and I are throwing a party tomorrow night,” Kitty replied, glad that the subject had changed. “And then of course it’s Grandmother’s birthday next Thursday, so we’ll have a family get-together for that.”
“That sounds like a promising start. We just need to plan a few picnics, maybe some swimming . . .”
“You can be in charge of all that. My hands are quite full with the two events I already mentioned.”
“I’m more than happy to be of service. If there’s anything I know how to do, it’s arranging to have fun.” Geordie brought the buggy up to a stop in front of the Clark home, then helped his mother and sister down before pulling his baggage from the rear. “I’ll put the horse and buggy away in a minute,” he said.
“No, let me,” Kitty replied. “You go in and see the girls.”
Geordie raised an eyebrow. “Becoming quite independent, I see.”
“I’ve always been independent. Gracious, who do you think hitched up the horse and buggy in the first place?”
He laughed. “All right, all right—I see how this is going to be. I hereby respect you for all your goodly attributes and commend you for your accomplishments, be they considered masculine or feminine.”
Buttons and Bows (The Sewing Circle Book 3) Page 6
