Behind her back, I could see a woman dressed in the orphanage’s attire stride toward me with two boys following behind her.
And then there was a man appearing by my side. He did not have any toddlers with him but smiled at me as if he were amused. Something about him snagged my attention, though I could not at once tell what it was. Perhaps it was his eyes: glittering and dark.
“Mrs. Sorensen,” he said. “I have the right child for you.”
“Really?” I asked over the Norwegian mother’s head. “I cannot see a child there with you.”
“Ah, no. I thought she was better off away from this ruckus. But she is a lovely child—of Norwegian stock, and in dire need of care.”
I gave him another look. His brown cap was simple, his shirt gray with age, but his speech gave him away. This was no ordinary worker at the docks. I had no time for distractions, though; I was to make an important choice, yet despite myself, I was intrigued.
“Just a moment of your time,” he begged. “Please, Mrs. Sorensen. I will make it worth your while.”
I smiled and apologized, and smiled again at the mothers and matrons, knowing full well that they would soon be watching the next woman who climbed onto the platform and forget all about me. Then I pushed my way through the throng, following the strange man’s shirt-clad back, my basket of treats all forgotten.
“So tell me about the child,” I said when he finally stopped under an ash tree. “I do hope she is something spectacular, since I just left behind several little angels in need of my help.” I felt suddenly ashamed about how it had happened, how I had forgone all propriety to follow this man for no good reason at all. The shame, in turn, became anger. “I have prepared for this day,” I told him. “If I return home empty-handed, depriving a poor unfortunate of a better destiny, the blame will be all on you!”
The man did not seem to feel my anger but chuckled a little at my words. “I do have a child, Mrs. Sorensen, and I believe she is meant to be yours.” He paused and leaned against the tree, still with that aggravating smile on his lips. “She is not mine but left in my care. Her mother is indisposed for a while.”
“Is she now?” It was my turn to be amused. “Why would that be?”
“Oh, poor choices were made, but who can blame her? I could spin you some story, Mrs. Sorensen, say that she was recovering from some injury, but that would be an insult to your wit, wouldn’t it? This new world promises so much but often gives but a little, and one must eat. Surely we agree on that, Mrs. Sorensen?” The curve of his lips deepened as he plucked a leaf from a hanging branch and set to shred it.
“She is in prison?” I could not believe what he was saying. “And you want me to take her child?” I was about to laugh from the absurdity of it, but my fury won out, and I remained standing before him with my hands on my hips and my chin lifted high. We were about the same height, he and I, but I figured I could still make him feel small. “You are wasting my time, Mr.—?”
“Lee, James Lee.” He whipped his cap from his head and gave me a halfhearted bow.
“Mr. Lee, you’re wasting my time.” And yet I did not go but remained standing there like a fool, wishing to feel that sizzling gaze upon me for just a little while longer.
“She is a sweet toddler, Mrs. Sorensen, only just a year, and as I said, it will be worth your while.” He took a slow step back, as if about to go, yet waiting to see if I would call him back.
“How is that?” I could not help but ask. I could not afford not to ask. The image of my pantry flashed through my head, and so did the thought of Mads’s dwindling accounts.
“Well, there is a mother, indisposed, but a father also, who is not joined in wedlock to said mother. He would rather not see the child starve, even if he can’t bring her into his own home. He is prepared to pay you for your trouble.”
My heart started racing in my chest. Here was an offer of money landing before me as if it were nothing. Money just for doing what I had set out to do in the first place, namely nurturing a child. “How long will the mother be gone for?”
“Two years at least, maybe three. Perhaps she will not come back for her daughter.” He shrugged as if to say that there was some hope that could happen. “If we agree on terms, I will come by every month with cash. It can be a sweet deal for you—for everyone involved.”
“What did she do, the mother?” I held my breath while waiting for the answer. I barely heard the clamor from the picnic or felt the heat anymore. All my attention was on him. To see him every month—no, I could not afford to entertain foolish notions. Yet his glittering eyes kept distracting me; the sight of his hands, long-fingered and lean, drew my gaze over and over.
“It’s better if you do not know.” The amusement was back on his face. “I know they say wickedness travels in the blood, but the girl is much too young to show any such inclinations.”
“I was not worried.” Why would I be? “Just tell me, why me? Out of all the women speaking here tonight, why did you come to me?” I had worked so hard not to stand out, so why did he pick me for this unsavory mission?
“Mrs. Sorensen,” he started, the amusement all but gone from his expression. He buried his hands in his pockets and his body was so relaxed that anyone passing by might have thought we were discussing the weather. He was clever, I figured, clever and bright. “It takes one to know one, as you well know, and I could not help but notice that you appreciate the finer things in life: pretty dresses and suchlike. Your words, though, the way you speak—you were not always well off, and people such as yourself who have just come to money often crave more. I dare suggest that you are not yet quite where you want to be in terms of wealth.”
I could not help but laugh at that, my anger from before all forgotten. It was as if he saw straight through me and I found it both baffling and amusing—though had he been a less charming sort of man, the same insight would have left me speechless with fury.
He cocked his head, looking slightly surprised, “You have a beautiful smile, Mrs. Sorensen, if you do not mind me saying so.”
I promptly fell quiet. It would not do to seem weak. “Did you ask anyone else to take the girl?” I motioned to the picnic. It somehow would not be the same if he had been hustling all day but not found someone willing to take the child.
“No.” Another one of those amused, secretive smiles, as if he knew what I was thinking. “Only you, Mrs. Sorensen. I take care not to waste my time.”
Satisfied on that account, I thought it through for a moment. “Bring the girl to me so I can see her,” I finally said. “Then we can discuss terms, Mr. Lee.”
“I knew you would see sense.” He reached out a hand to seal the agreement, and I found myself hesitating before touching it, as if the hand itself were dangerous. When I finally did take it, I found it firm and warm, barely callused—this was no working man in any common sense, just as I had suspected.