their age. That suited me just fine. I love my nieces, but I didn’t want to bother with them that day, of all days.
“You doing all right, honey?” asked Pa, looking as if he was about to have another heart attack.
His pallor worried me. “I’m all right, but I think you need to sit down and rest, Pa. Here, why don’t you and Sam chat with Walter over there on the sofa? I’ll bring you a plate of food.” I took Pa’s arm to lead him to the sofa. Sam, taking his other arm, meekly followed my lead. This seemed most unusual behavior for Sam—until I remembered that he’d just lost his best friend. If I could only keep that salient fact in mind, I’m sure I’d not be so suspicious of Sam all the time.
Walter jumped to his feet when he saw us approaching. “Daisy! Are you doing any better now?” He’d witnessed my collapse at the door, I presume.
Jeanette slapped his arm. “How can you ask such a question?” She rose to meet me and give me a hug, joggling my glass of punch slightly. “Don’t pay any attention to Walter, Daisy. I know you must be perfectly miserable. I know I would be.”
It’s nice she understood. “It’s . . . hard,” I said, and then my throat closed up and my eyes filled with tears again. Rats!
She put an arm around my shoulder, dislodging Pa and Sam, and sat me on the sofa. I sipped some punch, which more or less reopened my throat. I forgot all about getting Pa a plate of food, but I don’t think he remembered I’d offered to get him one anyway. We were all fumbling around in a state of confusion that day.
“Daisy, I just wanted you to know how very sorry I am for your loss.”
When I glanced up, I saw Miss Emmaline Castleton, of the fabulously wealthy Castleton family. Heck, it was in a hospital named for her father in which Billy’d died. She’d once explained to me how her father and his cohorts, after grinding the competition under their heels and killing thousands of Chinamen and Irishmen on their railroads, had retired to do good works, evidently believing a number of good works could erase their past misdeeds. As she’d told me: folks didn’t used to call Mister Castleton and his cronies robber barons for nothing. Now people called them philanthropists. Life’s funny that way.
I took the hand she held out to me. “Thank you for coming, Emmaline.”
She shook her head, looking close to tears herself. “I couldn’t stay away.”
Miss Emmaline Castleton had lost the man she loved during the war, too. Only his life had been temporarily saved by—of all unlikely creatures—a German soldier. But that’s another story I won’t tell here. I just wanted you to know that, however disparate our circumstances, the war had leveled social barriers between Miss Castleton and me.
“I understand,” I said honestly.
“I know you do.” She heaved a sigh. “But I suppose I’d best be getting along. Please come to me if there’s anything at all I can do for you.” With a shake of her head, she said, “Although I don’t know what that might be. I certainly can’t erase the past.”
“None of us can,” I said, appreciating her a lot in that moment.
As Emmaline Castleton maneuvered through the crowd toward the front door, Jeanette said, “Who was that, Daisy?”
“Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry. I forgot to introduce you.”
“Never mind that. But who was she? She looked . . . rich.”
I almost chuckled. “She is. Very. That was Emmaline Castleton.”
Jeanette’s eyes went wide. “Castleton of the . . .”
“Yes. Emmaline Castleton of the Castletons.”
“My goodness. I didn’t know you knew each other.”
“Yes. Well, we met not long ago and under . . .” I paused. I really didn’t want to go into it all there and then. “Well, it was kind of a surprise to meet her. But she’s very nice.”
“She must be,” said Jeanette dubiously
How was I ever going to get over Billy’s death? Had Emmaline Castleton managed to overcome the death of
“You doing all right, honey?” asked Pa, looking as if he was about to have another heart attack.
His pallor worried me. “I’m all right, but I think you need to sit down and rest, Pa. Here, why don’t you and Sam chat with Walter over there on the sofa? I’ll bring you a plate of food.” I took Pa’s arm to lead him to the sofa. Sam, taking his other arm, meekly followed my lead. This seemed most unusual behavior for Sam—until I remembered that he’d just lost his best friend. If I could only keep that salient fact in mind, I’m sure I’d not be so suspicious of Sam all the time.
Walter jumped to his feet when he saw us approaching. “Daisy! Are you doing any better now?” He’d witnessed my collapse at the door, I presume.
Jeanette slapped his arm. “How can you ask such a question?” She rose to meet me and give me a hug, joggling my glass of punch slightly. “Don’t pay any attention to Walter, Daisy. I know you must be perfectly miserable. I know I would be.”
It’s nice she understood. “It’s . . . hard,” I said, and then my throat closed up and my eyes filled with tears again. Rats!
She put an arm around my shoulder, dislodging Pa and Sam, and sat me on the sofa. I sipped some punch, which more or less reopened my throat. I forgot all about getting Pa a plate of food, but I don’t think he remembered I’d offered to get him one anyway. We were all fumbling around in a state of confusion that day.
“Daisy, I just wanted you to know how very sorry I am for your loss.”
When I glanced up, I saw Miss Emmaline Castleton, of the fabulously wealthy Castleton family. Heck, it was in a hospital named for her father in which Billy’d died. She’d once explained to me how her father and his cohorts, after grinding the competition under their heels and killing thousands of Chinamen and Irishmen on their railroads, had retired to do good works, evidently believing a number of good works could erase their past misdeeds. As she’d told me: folks didn’t used to call Mister Castleton and his cronies robber barons for nothing. Now people called them philanthropists. Life’s funny that way.
I took the hand she held out to me. “Thank you for coming, Emmaline.”
She shook her head, looking close to tears herself. “I couldn’t stay away.”
Miss Emmaline Castleton had lost the man she loved during the war, too. Only his life had been temporarily saved by—of all unlikely creatures—a German soldier. But that’s another story I won’t tell here. I just wanted you to know that, however disparate our circumstances, the war had leveled social barriers between Miss Castleton and me.
“I understand,” I said honestly.
“I know you do.” She heaved a sigh. “But I suppose I’d best be getting along. Please come to me if there’s anything at all I can do for you.” With a shake of her head, she said, “Although I don’t know what that might be. I certainly can’t erase the past.”
“None of us can,” I said, appreciating her a lot in that moment.
As Emmaline Castleton maneuvered through the crowd toward the front door, Jeanette said, “Who was that, Daisy?”
“Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry. I forgot to introduce you.”
“Never mind that. But who was she? She looked . . . rich.”
I almost chuckled. “She is. Very. That was Emmaline Castleton.”
Jeanette’s eyes went wide. “Castleton of the . . .”
“Yes. Emmaline Castleton of the Castletons.”
“My goodness. I didn’t know you knew each other.”
“Yes. Well, we met not long ago and under . . .” I paused. I really didn’t want to go into it all there and then. “Well, it was kind of a surprise to meet her. But she’s very nice.”
“She must be,” said Jeanette dubiously
How was I ever going to get over Billy’s death? Had Emmaline Castleton managed to overcome the death of
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