“Oh.” I kept my face forward, not wanting her to see the pain and anger there. “It’s nothing.”
“Oh no,” Mimi said, pulling us to a stop again. “You’re telling me.”
Turning to her, I fixed her with an annoyed glared.
“You made me tell you,” she pointed out. “Now you’re gonna tell me.”
Shaking my head, I let out a huff of annoyance then said, “Mama is getting married.”
Surprise flitted across Mimi’s features and she looked taken aback at my words.
“That was not what I was expecting,” she said with a ghost of smile on her painted lips. “I don’t know what I thought, but your mother marrying again wasn’t it.”
I had tried to force it from my mind for the rest of the night, but it had kept creeping back in.
“You don’t want her to, do you?”
Shame filled me and I dropped my head.
Mimi moved to stand in front of me and placed both hands on my shoulders and did not speak until I looked up at her.
“There’s nothing wrong with feeling like that,” she assured me. “It’s been you and Momma MacClare for years.”
“But I don’t really even know him,” I said and I felt tears fill my eyes. I gave a tiny shake of my head, as if it would make the tears and the painful ache in my chest go away, but it didn’t. “I didn’t even know she wanted to get married again. I thought she would love my father forever and that would be it.”
“But your mother is still in her prime,” Mimi said with a gentle smile. “She isn’t even forty yet. And she’s still quite beautiful—a trait I’m happy to say was passed to you.”
My heart leapt at her words and I was momentarily distracted by them. And when I saw her face, I realized that that had been her goal all along.
“You can’t expect your mother to hide away from the world forever,” Mimi went on. “She loved your father and you know that. But maybe she’s found a different, new love. Maybe she’s tired of being alone. There’s lots of reasons why she’d want to remarry.”
“It just feels like she’s forgetting about Papa.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them and I felt something in me break.
Tears fell hot and fast down my cheeks and Mimi let out a cry of alarm.
“Oh no!” she exclaimed, hastily digging into her bag and pulling out a handkerchief. “No, you’ll ruin your makeup and it’s terribly tricky to get off after it’s run down your face. Believe me, I know.”
I let out a tiny laugh as she handed me the handkerchief and I mopped uselessly at my ruined eyes as I tried not to think about why her own meticulously applied makeup would have been ruined.
“It’ll be fine,” Mimi said consolingly. “Your mother just wants another chance at happiness. Surely she’s allowed that.”
“But marrying someone who’s more or less a stranger to me?” I handed the ruined handkerchief back and she stowed it back inside her bag. “I’ve only seen him at society events.”
Her brow furrowed in puzzlement.
“Who is it?”
“Anthony Hayes,” I replied.
She looked momentarily stumped then realization brightened her face and her mouth dropped open in a wide “O”.
“I know who he is,” she said after a moment. “Owns property in New Jersey, right?”
I nodded. “And a canning factory,” I said.
“Yes.” Mimi was bobbing her head slowly as she thought. “Yes, I’ve met him once. It was at Steve and Christine’s anniversary dinner last September.”
We were silent for a moment then she said, “Well, whatever happens, you know she’ll always love your father.”
“I know.”
We had reached my house and I had just been about to head up the stairs to the door when Mimi caught my wrist in her hand, holding me in place.
Turning to face her, my expression puzzled, I glanced down at her hand on my wrist then into her eyes. What I saw there nearly chilled me to the core and I felt suddenly scared, though I didn’t know why.
“What is it?” I asked her, a slight tremor in my voice.
“Help Leah,” Mimi said softly but firmly.
“What?” I asked. “What are you talking about? Why?”
“Just promise me, Hazel,” she said, her tone adamant. She still held my wrist tightly in her grasp and it was beginning to hurt, but I didn’t try to pull myself free. “If something goes wrong... if-if anything happens to me... promise me that you’ll look after her and Georgie. Mother won’t help her. She hasn’t even seen Georgie. She’ll let them starve first.”
“But why would I need to?” I wanted to know. She was really beginning to scare me now and I wondered what she knew that I did not. “Why can’t you?”
“Hazel, please,” Mimi begged, not answering me.
“Alright,” I said, “I’ll do what I can.”
Mimi released me then and I searched her face, hoping to find some sort of explanation to her sudden outburst but found nothing there but relief. A dark shadow lingered in her eyes, however, but she blinked and it was gone, replaced by her usual light.
“But she could still get a job,” I grumbled and Mimi cracked a smile, chuckling softly. “And you could leave Basso.”
And just like that, Mimi’s smile vanished and her expression was more serious than I had ever seen it.
“He isn’t someone you just walk away from, Hazel,” she told me, her voice cold now. “I will never be free of him. And Leah needs me, anyways. I can’t.”
“Mimi,” I sighed but she was shaking her head.
“I’ll see you later,” she said. “It’s late and I’ve got to get to the club early tomorrow.”
“For what?” I wondered, knowing full well that she wouldn’t tell me anything.
“Nothing,” she said, a little too innocently.
“I could tell the police about him,” I said suddenly. The thought had occurred to me more times than I could count, most often when I was sitting in one of his chairs and drinking his alcohol. “He’d never need to know where the information came from.”
“Don’t you dare, Hazel MacClare,” she said in a threatening tone. “He’ll know it was me. He’ll know it was you. And I-I can’t put you in danger like that.”
“But you brought me to his club,” I pointed out, exasperated. “If you didn’t want me to know what he was like, why would you do that?”
“Because I didn’t know what he was until it was too late!” she burst and a heavy silence fell between us.
We stood there, her hand rubbing wearily across her worry-creased forehead, and it was a while before she spoke.
“I didn’t know,” she said quietly, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. “And now it’s too late.”
“Too late for what?” I demanded but she was stepping back now.
“I won’t leave, Hazel,” she said and she glanced over her shoulder towards the dark sidewalk behind her. “I can’t and I won’t.”
“Then I guess this is goodbye,” I said firmly and her head snapped back in my direction.
She was back in front of me in an instant, her brown eyes wide and pleading, desperate to understand.
“What are you talking about?” she gasped.
There was pain in her eyes, etched into the lines on her face and weighing down on her shoulders. It made my chest ache to know I was the cause of her pain.
“I won’t be going back to that club,” I told her. “And I won’t see you again unless you leave Basso.”
I heard her little exhale of surprise, her mouth dropped open, but she otherwise was silent. There was no protestation, no fight to make me understand.
Then, to my complete surprise—and immense disappointment—she nodded in understanding.
We didn’t speak, but a mutual understanding had sprung up and we reached for one another at the same time, holding each other in a tight embrace. I felt her body shaking with sobs and I held her tighter, my f
ingers digging into the fabric of her coat as she wept.
It was worse than I had imagined, telling her I wouldn’t see her unless she left Basso. I had thought—hoped, rather—that she would comply. But for whatever reason, she wouldn’t. And I knew that if she didn’t leave for me, then she wouldn’t leave at all. If he was as dangerous as everyone said, then that put me and my mother in danger simply by association and I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t live with myself if something went awry and he somehow decided it was my doing.
Without a word, we released each other and stepped away, me turning to go inside and Mimi heading for home.
In the door frame, I paused and watched her retreat until she was swallowed up by the shadows. I didn’t miss the tall, lanky one that followed.
By the next afternoon, however, as I paced my bedroom, I was regretting my words to Mimi. I was itching to go out later, but without Mimi, I didn’t have a clue of how to navigate the underworld of New York City and get into a club on my own.
But Frankie does.
A smile bloomed on my face.
Frankie knew how to get into clubs, which meant I wouldn’t need Mimi.
And I wouldn’t need to apologize, I thought bitterly. I wouldn’t apologize until Basso was no longer part of the picture.
I was being unfair, I knew, but I hated that she was with him. I hated that she was entangled in web of corruption and God knew what else. I hated that she had allowed herself to get swept up into it and all because of Leah. I hated that she spent more time with him than with me.
With a sigh, I got to my feet but didn’t move. I just stood there, staring blankly at the wall opposite me, my thoughts running circles about Mimi and Basso and her words to me the night before.
If anything goes wrong, she had said. Did she expect something to?
I couldn’t let myself get dragged into it. I would still go to speakeasies, but not with Mimi, not until she left Basso behind.
My mind went blank and I slowly sank back onto my bed, still staring at the opposite wall. I stayed like that until I heard a knock on my door and Danielle popped her head in.
I barely glanced at her as she entered, but I stood all the same and crossed to the wardrobe to pull out a dress for dinner.
As she helped me dress, I said, “How long did you know?”
Danielle’s hands faltered on the straps of my dress but just barely.
“What do ye mean, Miss Hazel?” she asked, her voice a little too light.
I faced her and her hands dropped to her sides, a look of guilt and shame on her face.
“How long did you know?” I asked again.
“Since the night he asked her,” Danielle answered and I nodded once.
“And when was that?” I turned my back on her and moved over to my vanity. She trailed after me and began working on my hair as I kept my eyes on her in the reflection.
“A couple of weeks ago.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“It was no for me tae tell ye,” she said simply.
Annoyance washed over me but I pushed it aside. I was being irrational now. Of course Danielle would not betray my mother’s trust like that, even if it meant hurting me.
“I’m not angry with you,” I assured her and I saw her relax a little.
“I know.” But I wasn’t so sure. “An’ she still loves yer father, ye ken.”
Shrugging, I said, “It’s her life. Let her do with it what she will.”
Chapter 9
Dinner with my mother and her new fiancé started off as awkward as it could have. By the time dessert arrived, I had learned far more about his factory than I had about him.
Anthony Hayes was a tall man who should have laid off the sweets but seemed to have a great weakness for them. His blond hair was wispy and his hair line was receding to such a degree that I saw more of his head than his hair. He had an absurdly large mustache and wore a suit that seemed to have been made with wishful thinking that he would be able to fit into it. As it was, the buttons were straining against his size and I worried every time he moved that one would dislodge and fly across the room.
For what I thought was the hundredth time that night, Mama attempted to direct the conversation to me by discussing my concert that autumn, but Mr. Hayes simply pulled out a handkerchief, dabbed his glistening forehead, and replaced it while informing my mother that his profits were soaring at the factory.
What a great man you have chosen, I thought with annoyance as I picked up my glass of water and took a sip. How I missed the sting of alcohol.
“And did I ever tell you, Helen, about the horse race I won?” Mr. Hayes said, leaning against the table. “I was seventeen at the time, but oh, it was marvelous!”
I don’t think he had once spoken a single word to me upon walking inside except to greet me. I wasn’t upset by it, but I was frustrated that my mother had chosen him of all the eligible men in New York.
“Now, your mother told me you play the piano,” Mr. Hayes said so abruptly that my fork, which had been halfway to my mouth, paused midair and I had to close my mouth to hide my surprise.
“Oh.” I cleared my throat and set my fork back down. “I do, sir.” I did.
He looked pleased and I half-expected him to tell me some sort of tale of how he had once played for the king and queen of England. But then he took me even more by surprise when he said, “Well, I would love to hear you play.”
I met my mother’s eyes across the table, but then she dropped her eyes and I turned my own back to Mr. Hayes, who had gotten distracted by Danielle giving him a second helping of meringue.
“Well, I-I would certainly be delighted to play for you,” I replied. If I remember how.
“And your mother also mentioned that your birthday is next week?” Mr. Hayes scraped the remains of the meringue off his plate with a noise that set my teeth on edge. “Have you got any plans?”
“Not at the moment, sir,” I said.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Mr. Hayes said, offering me what he must have thought was a friendly smile but had me sitting as far away from him as I could. “I remember when I turned eighteen. I spent an entire evening with a few boys from Columbia, though I couldn’t tell you what we got up to! I can’t remember a single moment once they brought out the beer!”
I forced my lips to curve before I hid behind my glass of water.
For my mother’s sake, I wanted to like him, but I simply could not understand why him. Why him, of all men? He seemed nice enough, though he had talked mostly to my mother during dinner. There was nothing overtly suspicious about him, but all I could think every time I looked at him was how he was replacing my father.
“Of course, I never once did anything like what you’re doing,” Mr. Hayes added boisterously and I felt my brows furrow in confusion. I hadn’t been following him at all and now he was looking at me expectantly.
“What?” I asked.
“Your concert,” he prompted, not at all fazed that I clearly hadn’t been paying attention. “I’ve heard your mother tell me about how skilled you are that I simply can’t wait to hear you for myself.”
“You will not be disappointed when you hear her,” Mama said suddenly, breaking her silence for the first time since before dessert had appeared.
I lifted my eyes to my mother and saw her staring hard at me. I looked away immediately, guilt washing over me as I thought of my abandoned concert. I hadn’t spoken to Mr. Carrow in weeks, hadn’t practiced that ridiculous sonata in just as long. I hadn’t even responded to a query from Mr. Carrow that had been sent the week before. I just didn’t know how to tell him I wanted out.
Anxiety mingled with guilt and I felt a small tremor begin in my hands, keeping pace with my thudding heartbeat.
Dropping my hands into my lap, I asked, “Might I be excused? I’ve got a terrible headache.”
Mama’s eyes narrowed in suspicion but she nodded all the same.
Shooting to
my feet, I begged Mr. Hayes’ pardon before darting from the room and out to the stairs, where I paused with one foot on the bottom stair. My hands gripped the railing tight and I felt my knees shake, my breaths coming in short sharp gasps.
Everything seemed fragile, as if the slightest touch would crumble the very ground beneath my feet.
How had everything changed so much in only a few short weeks? I had let go of the dream I had held on tight to since I was a child and pretended to be a flapper. I didn’t even know if I liked being a flapper or just liked the idea of being one.
Mimi had made it look so effortless, as though drinking and dancing and sporting short hair and a painted face was as easy as breathing. She had looked so free that I had wanted a taste of that freedom.
I lifted a hand to my bobbed hair, my fingers running along the base of my skull where my hair had been flattened to run seamlessly into my neck.
I had gotten myself that far, I told myself. So what if I didn’t want to perform in concert halls anymore? What was so wrong with growing out of your childhood dreams? I’m sure there were plenty of girls I had gone to school with who had wanted to be a princess but realized it wasn’t possible rather quickly.
The difference, I reminded myself, was that my concert was only months away. My dream had been attainable and I had simply let it go. And all because Mimi had persuaded me to try something entirely different to what I was used to.
It had been easier to tell her that I wouldn’t see her again until she left Basso, but now that I was staring down an uneventful evening with nothing but my mother and her new fiance for company, I was really regretting my words.
With a sigh, I heaved myself up onto my feet and pulled myself up the stairs to my room.
The next morning, however, brought the return of Mr. Hayes. He arrived just after breakfast and before I could quell it, I felt a flash of annoyance. Surely they wouldn’t be inseparable before the wedding. It wasn’t as if either of them were young children with the ideas of their first love fresh in their minds.
Lunch was an awkward affair as Mama and Mr. Hayes spoke almost exclusively to one another. I pushed my food around on my plate until Mama got to her feet and that was when Mr. Hayes turned to me and said, “You ran off last night before I could listen to you play. Helen has spoken so highly of your abilities at the piano that I simply must hear it for myself. Do you mind?”
The Golden Sparrow Page 12
