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Grace responded in kind. She responded in a way that did not entirely shut the door on the past but brought it a little closer to the locked position. If this was her new life, she thought, she might as well get it off to a good start. And a wonderful kiss in a jazz joint was as good as it got.

CHAPTER 57: GRACE

Kenmore, Washington – Friday, January 31, 1919

Grace grabbed her back and stretched as she stood at the entrance to the living room. She was not even four months along, but she could already feel the physical limitations of pregnancy.

"I put away the last of the sheets. If you'd like, I can begin work on the shirts."

"Don't be silly," Margaret said from across the room. "You've done more than enough today. I can iron the shirts later. Come sit with me. I've made some tea."

Grace walked past a roaring fire to the settee and sat beside the woman who had become not only her provider and mentor but also her best friend. She settled into the seat, grabbed a cup sitting on her side of the coffee table, and took a sip.

"This is wonderful. It tastes like English Breakfast."

"That's what I call it. Alistair simply calls it breakfast tea. He finds the idea of 'English' as a qualifier redundant and even insulting."

Grace laughed.

"Well, it's delicious by any name."

Margaret placed her cup on a saucer and turned to face Grace. She wore the gentle smile of a woman with something on her mind.

"I watched you hold your back. Are you in any kind of pain?"

"No. I feel fine. I'm just beginning to realize that my mobility is not what it was even a few weeks ago."

"I envy you, you know."

Grace lowered her cup and pondered the puzzling comment. Why would a woman who had everything envy a woman who had nothing? Was there something particularly appealing about being poor and pregnant in a strange and scary time?

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"It's simple, actually. I envy the changes you're going through. When I was eighteen, I was told that I would never be able to conceive. I've learned to live with that limitation and make the most of what I have. I love Penny as much as I could any child, but I still think about what I'm missing. I think about it a lot. I envy women who can experience the full range of motherhood. I truly envy them. There is so much I wish I knew."

Grace looked at Margaret with awe and admiration. Suddenly her aches, pains, and morning sickness seemed insignificant. She wished she could somehow share the miracle of pregnancy with a woman who would never bear a child.

"What would you like to know?" Grace said. She reminded herself that this was officially her first pregnancy and not her second. "I'll tell you what I can."

"OK. Can you feel the baby move yet?"

Grace nodded.

"I can. I noticed some movement for the first time this week."

"What does it feel like?"

"It depends. It's not always the same. Sometimes it feels like a twitch. Sometimes it feels like a tickle," Grace said. She smiled. "I've had more twitches than tickles today."

"Is it ever painful?"

Only when they claw their way out.

"No. It's rather pleasant."

Margaret sighed and smiled.

"I thought so."

Grace took another sip of tea and looked at Margaret again. She wondered if it were possible to be more grateful to another human being. This woman had given her so much.

"Thank you," she said.

"Thank you? For what?"

"Thank you for taking me in, for understanding, for showering me with kindness and not judgment. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You would have made it somehow. I'm sure of it. You're smart and pretty and have all the advantages of foresight. You would have done fine without us."

"I doubt it," Grace said, "but I appreciate your opinion."

Grace turned away and looked toward the fireplace. She stared blankly at the dancing flames and allowed herself to think of other things.

"I suppose it won't be long before people start asking about me."

"They already have," Margaret said. "Many people asked about you at the New Year's Eve party and we politely told them that it was none of their business."

Grace laughed.

"I can just see that."

Margaret put a hand on Grace's arm.

"We mean it, though. It
is
none of their business. If people think any less of us for harboring an expectant mother without a husband, then that's
their
problem. I won't lose any sleep over it."

Margaret cocked her head and leaned closer to Grace.

"That doesn't mean I don't worry about you. I want you to make your new life work. I want you to find happiness again. How are things between you and Captain Walker? I know that you've spent much more time together since the party."

Grace pondered the understatement of the year. John had paid a visit to the Green house nearly every day in January and had taken Grace out to lunch or dinner several times. It was clear that they were rapidly moving in a direction that could have only one outcome.

"They couldn't be better, actually," Grace said. "He has accepted me, warts and all. I couldn't ask for a better friend or a more understanding man."

"I'm glad to hear that. I think you two have been good for each other."

"How have I been good for him? I imagine that a handsome, educated man like John could have his pick of any single lady in Seattle."

"You're right. He could, and, in fact, he did."

"I don't understand."

"Apparently the good captain hasn't told you about Emily Watson."

"He hasn't told me about any of his past girlfriends."

"I'm not surprised."

"What should I know about Emily?"

"I'm hesitant to say much. That really is John's place. But I can't imagine that he would be upset with me for telling you. The story is widely known, at least in these parts."

"What story?"

"The story of their relationship and how it ended."

"Please tell me. I'd like to know. Had they dated long?"

"Most would say so. They had dated throughout their time in college. John had studied to be an engineer, Emily a teacher. He proposed to her on the Fourth of July in 1917, shortly after he had earned his Master's degree and volunteered for the Army."

Grace pushed her tea away and got comfortable. She did not want to miss a word.

"Did they get married?"

"No. John wanted to get married before he left for basic training, but Emily talked him out of it. She didn't want to rush anything. She wanted a large, old-fashioned wedding and was willing to wait for it. So they postponed their nuptials until after the war."

Grace put a hand on her stomach as an uneasy feeling set in. She didn't like where the story was headed and regretted opening the door to the discussion.

"I don't understand. He came back. Why weren't they married? Did she break off their engagement?"

"No," Margaret said. "Something else did."

She paused for a moment, as if gathering strength for an unpleasant revelation, and then took another sip of her tea. Her hand trembled as she returned the cup to its saucer.

"Emily Watson was struck and killed by a streetcar in Seattle on August 7, two days after Captain Walker returned from the war. She was twenty-three."

Grace closed her eyes and sank lower in the settee. She had suspected that John had suffered a recent trauma. She had seen it in his eyes. But she had figured that the source of his sadness was the shrapnel in his leg or the ugliness of war and not the loss of a fiancée. She once again considered her own problems and felt very small.

"So maybe now you can understand why you have been good for
him
. John told Alistair and me shortly after Emily died that he would never again meet someone as special. He all but told us that he had resigned himself to a lifetime of misery," Margaret said. "Little did he know that he would find another special someone in a matter of weeks."

"Thank you for telling me," Grace said. "It explains a lot of things, and it reminds me that I'm not the only one around here who has suffered loss."

"I'm not going to advise you on the captain, Grace. You must follow your heart. Just don't take him for granted. Men like John Walker don't come around every day. Whatever you do, be honest with him. Hold nothing back. You won't regret it."

"Thank you again," Grace said. "I think our little discussion has been good for both of us."

CHAPTER 58: GRACE

Seattle, Washington – Monday, February 10, 1919

Grace Smith thought about a lot of things on the drive to the doctor's office in downtown Seattle. She thought about the general labor strike that had all but crippled the city, the state of obstetric medicine in 1919, and the raging wildfire that was the relationship between Lucille Green and William Vandenberg.

In barely ten weeks, the people who would become her parents had gone from acquaintances at a Sunday dinner table to fiancé and fiancée. Bill had asked for Lucy's hand in marriage right after preaching up a storm at Calvary Lutheran on Sunday. Uncle Alistair, Lucy's proxy parent, had reluctantly given his blessing.

Grace also thought about a young teacher she had never met and could never meet. Since her enlightening conversation with Margaret Green, she had thought of little else but the woman once intended to be the wife of Captain John Walker.

"Tell me about Emily," she said as she looked at the man driving the Cadillac coupe. "I'd like to know more about her."

"What would you like to know?" John asked matter-of-factly.

"What was she like? Was she smart? Was she pretty? Was she kind?"

"You've been talking to Margaret, I see."

"She thought I should know a little about her before I cast my lot with the neighbor boy."

Grace looked for a smile but instead saw a frown. Her attempt to lighten the mood in the car had fallen flat. When she saw John return his eyes to the road, she realized that she had opened an old wound – and a big one at that.

"She was all the things you mentioned: smart, pretty, kind. She was the kind of woman most men dream about but few ever find."

"She sounds wonderful. Why have you never talked about her?"

"What's there to talk about? She's gone. When someone is gone, you move on."

Grace leaned forward to get a better look at his face but saw nothing to encourage her. She could see that John Walker considered Emily Watson a closed topic.

"I don't mean to pry, John. I ask only because I want to know more about the man that I'm seeing, a man I care about deeply. Emily obviously meant a lot to you," Grace said. She put her hand on his. "That makes her important to me."

John glanced at Grace with eyes she could not read.

"What else would you like to know?"

"I don't know. The usual stuff, I suppose. How did you meet?"

John sighed and tightened his grip on the wheel.

"We had known each other since childhood. We attended the same schools and belonged to the same church and country club. Emily's father is a partner in Dad's engineering firm. I can't remember a time when I didn't know her."

"How long had you dated?"

"We dated off and on in college but only seriously the last year. I guess you could say we decided that our friendship was something more than a friendship."

Grace released his hand and directed her eyes forward.

"I was sorry to hear about her death. I can see why you loved her. If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know."

John shifted into a lower gear as they entered the city and its more congested streets. Potholes made what had been a relatively smooth ride noticeably rougher.

"Perhaps you can do something."

Grace turned toward the driver and gave him a warm smile.

"Just say it. What would you like me to do?"

"You can tell me more about this man of yours. Does he have a name?"

Grace braced herself for a difficult discussion when she heard the edge in his voice. She did not want to talk about Joel or anyone else in her past life, but she knew she had to say something. She had opened a door with her questions about Emily and was obligated to give John more than a pack of lies.

"His name is Joel."

"I see."

John shifted again and glanced at Grace. He wore the face of a man who wanted answers but wasn't quite sure how far he should push to get them.

"Can you tell me why this Joel is not around to look after you and his child?"

"He is unable to."

"I'm afraid I don't understand. Is he in prison?"

"You could call it a prison of sorts, but it's not one with bars. As I told you earlier, I left him. He did nothing bad to me or to anyone else. He does not even know I carry his child."

"Let's see if I understand this correctly. You left a decent man, a man you love, and the father of your child for a new life in a new city, but you can't tell me why? Is that the sum of it?"

"That's the sum of it."

"You'll have to excuse me if I view all that with a bit of suspicion. I don't like beginning something, anything, under a cloud of mystery."

"I know," Grace said as she lowered her eyes.

"Then I really have only one more question."

"OK."

"Are you free to marry another?"

Grace sighed.

"Is it important to know that now?"

John looked over his shoulder toward the rear window and shifted down. He then quickly pulled his vehicle up to the curb, brought it to an abrupt stop, and turned off the engine.

"Yes, it's important."

Grace felt her stomach sink as she saw what had been a carefully managed conversation spin out of control. Vague answers were no longer cutting it.

"Why?"

"Why? Because I love you, that's why. I can't imagine spending my life without you. I want to take care of you and your child, and I want to do so sooner rather than later."

Grace tried to pull herself together as her head swam. She had not been prepared to hear such a declaration so soon and struggled with how to respond to it.