Hannah's Dream (9 page)

I want to draw like that, he thought.

By the time the ladies and Edward arrived, Jimmy had a sick stomach and couldn't eat a thing.  Marian said he would come with them anyway and sip a cup of chamomile tea.  Jimmy grimaced at the idea of tea, but he sat with them at the lunch table while they ate anyway.

They went directly home to New Beach after lunch and Marian handed Edward a ten-dollar bill plus another ten dollars for Christmas.  Edward thanked her profusely, helped her bring in her bags, and tipped his hat before wishing her a Merry Christmas and taking off down the road.

Becky was happy to see them all home safe and gave each of them a mug of hot cider with a stick of cinnamon to warm them.  She waited until they were all safely settled in the parlor before giving Marian a telegram that had arrived that afternoon.  It was from the lawyer regarding Randall's estate.  He was requesting an office consultation with Mrs. Dawes, but he didn't say why.

"He'll have to wait until after the holiday," Marian said.

Hannah looked at her mother, brother, and Becky, and a warm glow filled her heart.  Jimmy was telling Becky about his day and all the stores he'd been to, and Marian was smiling as she listened to him.  

Was there ever such a happy family?
she thought.
 I love them all so much.

Chapter 13

When he heard that Margaret would be spending Christmas in New York with friends and he wasn't invited, Pierre became angry.  After his anger dissipated, he realized he could spend a week in Long Branch without having to tell Margaret where he was and his attitude changed.  He stood at the curb as Margaret's carriage rode away and waved.  He promised to keep an eye on things for her.  When her carriage was out of sight, he went to the stable.

Mrs. Porter's house, festooned with holiday décor, was lively when Pierre entered the door.  She had brought in a huge pine tree and the women were lacing popcorn strings on its branches.  The women smiled when they saw Pierre, but he was looking for one in particular.  He found her sitting on the settee with an older gentleman.

"She's taken for now," Mrs. Porter said.  She surprised Pierre by appearing at his side.  "She's been spending a lot of time with him.  His wife died.  She's
comforting
him."

Mrs. Porter was gratified to see the look of anger flash across Pierre's face.  She disliked the haughty Frenchman who thought himself above her.

"Caroline's available," she said.

Pierre looked at Caroline.  She smiled and all he could see were her missing teeth.

"I'll come back later," Pierre said.

"She'll be busy all night, if you know what I mean," Mrs. Porter said.

Pierre hated Mrs. Porter, but she had the cleanest house in Long Branch.

"Fine.  I will be here tomorrow.  Tell her to wait."

"I can't guarantee she'll be waiting, it being Christmas day and all."

Pierre wanted to smack the insolent woman.  He forced himself to leave her and went to find a room for the night.

Mrs. Porter approached the woman and crooked her thumb.

"Excuse me, darling," she said to her gentleman, and followed Mrs. Porter.

"Your Frenchman was here," Mrs. Porter said.  "He wants you to wait for him to come tomorrow, but you hear me, Agnes, and you hear me good.  If Mr. Ross wants to stay, you stay with him.  Do you understand?"

"Yes," Agnes said.

When Agnes left her son with the Daweses, Edward brought her to the railroad station in Long Branch, where she pretended to get on the train.  When she saw Edward leave, she got off the train.  She'd grown tired of the type of men she met in Atlantic City and knew that Long Branch attracted wealthy men from New York.

She pawned the ring Marian Dawes gave her, but the money she received for it didn't last very long.  She looked for work, but honest businessmen, upon seeing her bleached hair and vulgar attire, dismissed her and asked her to leave their shops.  She had no choice but to seek a position at Mrs. Porter's.  

When she saw Pierre, she fell in love.  He was the most attractive man she'd ever seen.  He also found her attractive, and she knew how to please a man.  He became a regular customer and the more she saw him, the more she loved him.  She had become careless.  She was again in the family way.

"Is that all?" Agnes said.

Mrs. Porter nodded in Mr. Ross's direction and Agnes returned to his lap.

After spending the night with Agnes, Mr. Ross left before dawn so he would be home when his children woke on Christmas morning.  Agnes slept for a little while, then she got up and dressed, including her coat and hat.  She looked at herself in the mirror, making sure every hair was in place, then she left her room.

The house was quiet as she tiptoed down the stairs.  It was half-past eleven.  She went out the door and down the walkway to the street.  She knew Pierre stayed at a small hotel when she couldn't have him overnight.  She moved quickly to keep warm.

There was no one on the street.  Everyone was home for the holiday.  The hotel came into view.  As she drew nearer, she saw Pierre come out of the hotel and head toward the beach.  She hurried her steps but he was too far ahead.  She called to him, but the wind and the distance made it impossible for him to hear her.

She followed him to the beach and watched him trudge through the sand.  She knew he liked to go to the beach and enjoyed it best when it was empty.  He liked to walk alone.  He was heading for the rocks.  The rocks went out into the water for several feet. She wondered why he would go there since the water was rough and the waves were crashing over them.

"What's he thinking?" she said.

She stopped and called to him.  He didn't hear her.  He was looking out to sea.  If she wanted to talk to him, she would have to climb onto those rocks.  She hesitated.  She could wait until he came down.  It was so cold.  The water didn't seem so rough now.  It was one of those lulls that lure you in then suddenly pull you under.  But Agnes didn't think about that.  She wanted to talk to Pierre.

She pulled herself up on the first rock.  It wasn't too wet.  She called to Pierre.  The wind was loud.  She stood looking at the waves.  They were at the base of the rocks.

She took a step forward.  He had walked to the halfway point and stopped.  Maybe he would turn and see her.  He was looking at the sea.  She took another step.

"Pierre," she called.

Still he didn't turn.  The water seemed calm.  She took another step.  A gust of wind hit her side, but she kept her balance.

"Not for long," she said thinking of her pregnant belly to come.  She'd have gone right over if she was big with child.

I'll wait for him,
she thought.  She turned and began to take a walk back to the beach.  That's when he turned and saw her.

"Agnes," he cried.

She didn't hear him.  He began walking back to the beach, moving as quickly as he could.  She was creeping along the rocks, afraid she might fall.  When he was closer, he called to her again.  This time she heard him and turned around.  He was walking toward her.  She smiled.  He waited until he was near her before speaking.  He was holding his hat and the wind blew his hair into his face.

"What are you doing here?" he said.

"I have to tell you something, but I don't want you to be mad."

"Just tell me, Agnes," he said.

"I'm having a baby," she said.

"So what is that to me?" he said.

"It's yours!" she cried.

"There is no way to prove it is mine.  You are a slut.  It could be anyone's."

A wave appeared from nowhere and crashed over the rocks.  It soaked the bottom of her dress and Pierre's shoes.

She cursed and narrowed her eyes.  "It's yours.  You're the only one I let do...I know it's yours."

Another wave crashed over the rocks.

"Can we please get off of here?" she said.

He nodded and they began to walk back to the beach.  A large wave hit the rocks and this time it knocked them both into the water.  Agnes was struggling to keep her head above the water.  Her heavy dress was impeding her as she struggled to swim to shore.  Pierre reached for her hand.  He couldn't reach it, and she was being pulled further away from the shore.  He began to swim toward her, then he remembered what she told him and stopped.  She would never leave him alone now.  Margaret would find out about the baby and throw him out.  He would lose his job.

He turned and began to swim back to shore.  He dragged himself out of the water and turned around.  Agnes was gone.

He tried to gather his thoughts.  He looked around at the desolate beach.  He wondered if anyone had seen them.  He turned and walked to the road.  He didn't see a soul.

He went back to his room.  His shoes and clothes were wet, but the desk clerk knew he was going to the beach.  If anyone noticed, he would say he was too close to the shore and a wave caught him by surprise.  He looked at his face in the mirror.  Agnes was dead.  She could have ruined his life.  She could have ruined his relationship with Margaret.  He hadn't wanted her dead.  He hadn't planned to kill her.  So, why did he feel so guilty?

If he went to Mrs. Porter's and asked for Agnes, demanded to see her, would they suspect anything?  Or would it make a good alibi?  He took off his trousers and put on a dry pair.  He had brought one pair of shoes so he had to wear them.  If Mrs. Porter questioned him, he would say he had been to the beach.  But he was being stupid.  Why would she ask about his shoes?

He waited until three before going to Mrs. Porters'  This is when he usually arrived.  Mrs. Porter greeted him.

"I'd like to see Agnes," he said.  He did that well.  He didn't sound guilty at all.

"She's still asleep," she said.  "I'll send the girl to fetch her."

They didn't know she'd left the house that morning.

The girl was dispatched to Agnes's room.  She appeared at the top of the stairs shaking her head.

"She's not there, ma'am."

"What?" Mrs. Porter said.

"I told you to have her wait for me," he said.  He was proud.  He sounded properly indignant.

"I haven't seen her today.  I can't imagine where she's off to."

"Well find her!" he cried.

"Why don't you come back later?" Mrs. Porter said.  "Maybe she's gone to church.  It's Christmas after all."

"Yes, I'm sure she's gone to church," he said.  You're doing well, Jean-Pierre, he thought.  "You tell her when she comes back that if she does this to me again, I will choose another girl."

He walked out and slammed the door.  He was breathing hard and stopped on the porch to catch his breath.  He walked back to the hotel and collected his things.  He tipped the livery boy who brought his horse to the hotel and quickly rode out of town.

Chapter 14

Marian was at the breakfast table sipping her tea when a knock came at the door.

"I'll answer it," Becky said as she rushed past Marian.

A man in a black overcoat and bowler hat stood on the porch.  He took off his hat and smiled.

"May I speak to Mrs. Dawes?" he said.

"May I ask who's calling?" Becky said.

"My name is Herbert Ross."

"Come in," Becky said.  She took his hat and coat and left Mr. Ross in the foyer.

"There's a man here to see you," Becky told Marian.

"Who is he?"

"Someone named Ross."

"That's the lawyer from New York.  What on Earth is he doing here?"

Marian rose from the table.

"Bring some tea to the parlor," she said to Becky.

She walked into the foyer and greeted Mr. Ross.

"Please, come in," she said.

They walked into the parlor and sat across from each other.  He looked very uncomfortable.

"I received your letter and was planning to come to your office sometime next week," Marian said.  "I assume your visit has something to do with the letter."

"Mrs. Dawes, I...I guess it's best to just tell you why I'm here.  I wanted to find a way to say this, but no matter how I tried, there just isn't any easy way to give you this news."

"My goodness, Mr. Ross.  Is it as bad as all that?"

"Yes, Mrs. Dawes, I'm afraid it is."

He sat tapping his fingers on his knee.  Despite the chill in the parlor, he began to perspire.

"You see, I made some investments.  Your late husband trusted my judgment and I saw no reason to disturb you, so I used your late husband's money as well as my own."

"It wouldn't have disturbed me in the least.  You could have talked to me about my
late husband's money."

This was not going well.  Mrs. Dawes looked peeved.  Mr. Ross soldiered on.

"The railroads were a solid investment.  They should have given a healthy return.  But construction was halted by certain unforeseen circumstances and the money, well..."

"Well what, Mr. Ross?"

"The men have absconded with the money."

"You mean they've stolen it, isn't that what you mean?  You've invested my late husband's money, my money, Mr. Ross, with thieves."

"I had no idea they were thieves when I gave them the money, Mrs. Dawes.  I never would have been so reckless."

"But you were reckless, Mr. Ross."

Becky was standing at the door holding the tea tray.  Mr. Ross saw her face and knew she had heard.  She walked over to the table in front of the settee and put the tray down.  She glared at Mr. Ross.

"Thank you, Becky," Marian said.

Becky left the room, but she stood outside the door where Marian wouldn't see her.

"Is there anything left?" Marian asked.

"The firm has dismissed me, but they voted to give you a settlement."

"How much money, Mr. Ross?"

"One thousand dollars."

Marian sipped her tea.  She could feel her hands shaking, but she willed them to stop.  She wouldn't let this man get the better of her.  She thought about the money.  It wouldn't see them through a year.  She continued to sip.  Let him stew a while.  She put down her tea.

"When will I get this money?" she asked.

Mr. Ross reached into his pocket and pulled out a bank draft.  He placed it next to the tea tray.