Frances and Eddie walked rapidly the rest of the way to town, stopping first at the post office to buy a stamp and mail Frances’s letter to Johnny. Frances allowed a three-day wait until her arrival. That would give him time to think … to decide.…
Her letter had been short and to the point:
Dearest Johnny … I’m sorry for what I said and the hurt I caused you. I’ve missed you terribly. I want to see you, and I’m hoping you’ll want to see me. I’ll arrive by train in Maxville at two in the afternoon on Thursday, August tenth.…
With my love, Frances
Was Ma right? Would these be healing words?
Eddie tugged at her arm, pulling her back, as she attempted to step off the wooden sidewalk. “Miss Kelly!” he shouted. “Watch where you’re going! You nearly stepped in front of that dray!”
Shaken, Frances said, “I’m sorry, Eddie. My mind’s not on what I’m doing.”
He nodded, solemn for a change. “You’re worried about me, aren’t you? Well, don’t be. Whatever happens to me, I can handle it. I always have. I always will.”
Frances rested a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t look so unhappy. You’ll have a home. Didn’t I promise you?” she said. “Right now I want you to meet the Children’s Aid Society agent, Andrew MacNair.”
As soon as there was a break in the traffic, Frances said, “Come on, Eddie. Hurry!” She lifted her skirts from the dust and strode across the street, nimbly avoiding the horse and ox droppings. Once on the sidewalk she said, “Andrew has an office in the back of his wife’s general store. We’ll see if he’s there.”
Katherine MacNair had seen Frances coming and waited for her inside the store. Wrapped in Katherine’s hug, Frances reveled in the mixed fragrances of cinnamon sticks and peppermint, newly picked peaches piled in a display, and tart dill pickles, bobbing in a barrel of tangy brine.
Holding Frances at arm’s length so that she could study her face, Katherine asked, “You’re looking well. Prettier than ever. How was the trip? Did the children behave? Did all of them find homes?”
Andrew MacNair stepped up behind his wife and laughed. “I’m the one to be asking those questions, Katherine. Frances came not just to see your smiling face, but to give me her report.”
Frances turned to see Eddie wandering among the counters, studying the array of merchandise for sale. It was just as well he wasn’t within earshot. Frances didn’t like talking about children over their heads, as though they couldn’t hear.
She handed a thick folder of papers to Andrew. All the children were taken, except one,” she said. “Eddie—the young man browsing two counters away. The one with the red hair. I’ll call him over and introduce him in just a few minutes.”
“My! That’s a real mop of red,” Katherine said with a smile. “It makes me think of Mike.”
Frances nodded. “And, like Mike, Eddie has a lot of the roughness of the New York City streets in him.”
Andrew frowned. “Then he’ll be hard to place. Offhand, I don’t know of anyone who—”
Frances sighed. “I’ll find him a good home. He’s a wonderful boy, so much like Mike was at his age. Eddie’s funny and lovable and smart—”
Katherine interrupted with a laugh. “It sounds as though you’re pretty much taken with him yourself.”
Shaking her head, Frances said, “You don’t need to remind me. No single-parent adoptions.” She glanced again at Eddie. “Until a home is found for Eddie, he can stay with Ma and her husband. “Will that be all right with you?”
“Of course,” Andrew said. “But I’ll need to know as soon as possible if you find a good home for Eddie.”
Frances smiled. “Believe me, I’ll rush to tell you.”
Even though Frances loved the time spent with Ma and Peg and Eddie and John Murphy, the days passed slowly. She couldn’t help wondering if Johnny had got her letter, and if so, how he’d received it. He’d been angry, and so had she. Maybe he wouldn’t come.… Frances shook her head. She wouldn’t allow herself to become frightened by what she had done.
But on the train ride to Maxville she couldn’t fight the worry any longer. As she thought about arriving at the station, alone, without Johnny there to greet her, her neck and back ached, and the palms of her hands grew damp and clammy.
When the train pulled into the station and came to a stop, Frances peered eagerly from the windows, but there was no sign of Johnny.
Wearily she picked up her carpetbag and carried it down the steps to the depot platform.