“That was nice of him.”
Anne shrugged. “It was probably politics that drove the president to do that. That seems to be the way government runs.”
Joyce had to admit she knew no more about politics, government and business than Anne. She knew how to work hard to save money, and she could work figures in her mind like no boys she knew. She had not had any opportunities to use her figuring skills to help in business of any kind. Women weren’t allowed.
She was fine with that. They could remain ignorant of her talent if they wanted to.
They made a slow circle around the room, Anne explaining each of the portraits that hung on the walls. “And here are Tom and Gary.” Anne’s voice was much prouder than it had been with any of the other men, even the founding father.
Joyce peered closely at Tom’s face. He was very similar to his brother, with wavy light brown hair, hazel eyes, and a strong forehead. His chin was equally strong, and he had a stern look about him. He looked like a man who had fought in a war. He was standing on one side of a tall chair with one hand on the edge. He wore a black tuxedo and had casually shoved one hand in the pocket, making the jacket stick out slightly in the back. Gary was standing on the other side of the chair in the same position reversed. He was also wearing a tuxedo. They both had small smiles on their faces. Joyce marveled at how Tom could look so stern and still be smiling.
“Is this recent?” She asked.
“It was done last year while they were visiting the President.”
“How interesting.”
“What do you think?”
“Of Tom?” She gave Anne a quick glance and saw her nod. Her eyes settled on Tom once more, and she gave it a thought. “I think he looks like he’s been through a war.”
Anne sighed. “It’s so unfortunate that the portrait was done after Lizzie’s death. Tom was a different man before, happy and smiling, playful and fun.” She looked at Joyce. “I do hope you can reawaken that in him, Joyce. You are vibrant and full of energy, I can tell. You can do it.”
Joyce felt the uncomfortable feeling of mental pressure. Anne was confident in her. She felt she probably could do what was needed for Tom. But the fact that she had practically been forced into it and now felt an obligation to a child that wasn’t even hers was unnerving. It disturbed her, and she hoped to rid herself of those feelings through prayer and with time.
“I will try,” she said.
“I’m so glad to hear that. You are not planning to leave then?”
Joyce shook her head a bit reluctantly. “No. I will stay.”
At that very moment, Eliza started clapping her hands and dancing around the room. Anne and Joyce both turned and watched her, instant smiles on their faces. “I think she likes the idea, Joyce!” Anne laughed.
“I don’t think she understands the situation.” Joyce chuckled at the thought. “But it was certainly good timing!”
Chapter Four
In the three days since her arrival, Joyce had seen much more of Anne and Gary than she had of Tom. Her initial meeting with Tom had been brief and he had enough time for her to introduce himself and say hello to his daughter before he was off to work. He didn’t come home until late in the evening, usually eating his dinner in a restaurant in the town. He told Joyce that they would speak privately on Saturday, which was still a day away, and that they would make plans to be married at that time.
It wasn’t the most pleasant way to meet your future husband.
She hadn’t been having an easy time of it with Eliza either. She had to learn everything about caring for a baby from Anne, who had apparently been taking care of Eliza the most. Joyce found herself wondering why Anne and Gary hadn’t simply adopted Eliza and taken her care off of Tom’s hands. And mind.
She woke up frustrated that Thursday, hearing Eliza calling from her room. The sun had barely risen, and Tom was already gone. She threw the covers from her legs and sat up, frustrated. This was not the life she had wanted. She had wanted fun, adventure, and new love. Not to be saddled with a baby and a never-present husband that she didn’t even know and didn’t consider all that handsome.
The money she had tucked away beckoned her every morning. She sighed heavily, deciding once more to ignore its call and go tend to the child.
She pulled on a robe and slipped her feet into her slippers. Eliza was awake much earlier than usual. No one would have made any coffee yet.
Joyce went into Eliza’s room and picked her up and out of her crib. “Here you go, Ellie,” she said. “Good morning, good morning.” She kept her voice pleasant and forced a smile on her face. There was no way she would let this happy child feel her frustration. That wouldn’t be fair at all. Her unhappiness was her own, and she wasn’t going to make a baby feel it too. Besides, her crying would be endless. That was the last thing Joyce wanted at this point.