“I need to tell you something important,” Alma said, squaring her shoulders.
Mama and Robert glanced at each other.
Mama lay down her sewing in her lap. “What is this about?”
“It’s about John Lambert.”
Her stepfather sat up abruptly. “He hasn’t called off the wedding, has he? That no-good—”
“No, it’s far worse than that.”
“What could be worse than that?” Robert demanded.
“He has a reputation at Ellis Island and it isn’t good, Father. It’s horrible, in fact. He’s known for…for molesting immigrant women.”
Dumbfounded, her parents glanced at each other but said nothing.
Alma began to pace and, after a few seconds, stopped to look at them directly. “He impregnated an immigrant.”
Mama’s mouth dropped open.
“He did what?” her stepfather demanded.
“I told my supervisor, and she said he’s known for these sorts of offenses. He hasn’t been fired because there’s been no proof. Or at least, no one has wanted to come forward. I haven’t talked to John about our engagement yet, because I wanted to tell you both first. Obviously, I can’t marry him. Not now.”
Robert stood, crossed his arms over his chest. “That isn’t your decision to make, young lady. And I’m sure the rumors about Lambert are an exaggeration. After all, a man has needs. You can’t be naive enough to think you would marry a man inexperienced in the ways of lovemaking.”
She stared at her stepfather, shocked at his easy dismissal. “Father, John molested a woman—many women—against their will! I wouldn’t call that lovemaking.”
“And just what do you know about it?” he said in a clipped tone. “He’s the only man who will have you, Alma. The date has been set with the church. Your mother has already invited some of the neighbors. You’ll find a way to satisfy your husband’s needs, and then he won’t have to look elsewhere.”
“Mama?” she implored her mother. She could hardly believe what she was hearing.
Johanna looked away, said nothing.
Her mother would abandon her when it was this important so she wouldn’t clash with her husband? Alma felt a rush of blood to the head. Time and again, Mama had left her on her own to face Robert and his rules. Mama all but sold her soul to a man who might provide for her but didn’t see her as his equal. It had made Alma incensed over the years. Now, it made her sad and utterly disgusted.
“You would sell me to a man who exploits the poor and takes advantage of desperate women? And he doesn’t care one wit about me! He’s never asked me a single question about myself! He only cares about whether or not we have a financially stable home!”
“That’s a perfectly reasonable thing to care about, girl,” Robert sneered.
Mama reached for Alma’s hand. “We’ve already given our word to Mr. Lambert, liebling. You’ve found a reason against every suitor we’ve proposed to you. And now, you present us with gossip that isn’t even confirmed. He’ll provide a good home for you.”
She stared at her mother in shock a moment but quickly recovered as a wave of bravado swept over her. “And if I refuse?”
Robert crossed the tiny room and clutched her arms in a vise-like grip. “We humored your little fantasies about Jacob and allowed you to drive away every other suitor in the past, but no longer. Do you hear me?” He shook her hard. “You’re a burden to this household. We’re not going back on our word, whether you like it or not! Is that clear?”
Her arms ached where her stepfather’s fingers dug into her flesh. Still, she met his bloodshot eyes, red from too much beer, and felt her own fury rise to match his.
Francesca’s words rang in her ears once again: She always had a choice.
“I’m not a child.” Alma yanked free of his grip. “I work and make my own money. From now on, I’ll choose whether or not I marry. John Lambert isn’t a decent man, and I’ll have nothing to do with him. This is my decision to make.”
Robert raised a hand as if to slap her, but Mama stepped between them.
“You may choose her husband, Robert, but you will not hit my daughter.”
Perhaps Alma should have been more grateful to her, but she was still too angry at her mother’s betrayal.
“Have it your way,” he said, spittle flying. “You want to choose, girl? I’ll give you a choice. You can marry this man who has graciously opened his home to you in spite of your plainness, or you can find a home of your own. You’re no longer welcome in ours.”
Mama gasped. “Robert! What would you have her do?”
“I don’t care, but she has one week to make her decision, or pack her things and get out.”
Alma stared at him for one beat and then stuck out her chin. “Fine. I’ll go. At least I’ll never have to listen to the likes of you again.”
Head held high, she stormed to the door.
44
Still charged from the night before, Alma walked as if her feet were on fire to the train, from the train to the ferry, and through the immigration center, hardly pausing to catch her breath. She had to speak with Williams immediately. Her parents hadn’t let her go to bed and had continued to argue with her well into the early morning hours, but she hadn’t budged. She didn’t want the life they were forcing her into, especially with that foul man. She’d told them everything—about the rumors at work, about her time in Jeremy’s office learning the ins and outs of being an interpreter on the island. About her dream to go to school.
By the time she’d fallen asleep, she knew she’d have to move out and leave her childhood home for good. The thought terrified her and she didn’t have the slightest idea what to do about it yet, but she’d think of something. Robert had forced her into a corner, and Mama hadn’t stood up to him. Alma was tired of being rejected by them both and, most important of all, tired of not being heard. She’d realized in the midst of the arguing that she had been on the path to becoming exactly like her mother: compliant, afraid to speak her mind or follow her heart. But that life wasn’t for Alma. She had bigger plans.
After she deposited her scarf and handbag, she went to Williams’s office only to find it empty. In the baggage room a watchman told her to check the registry office. Frustrated, she set off for the vast room and found it still primarily empty since another steamship wasn’t expected until later that day. At the eastern wall, she spotted Williams at last, with one of the janitors who was in the process of hanging a sign on the wall.
“There, that’s perfect,” Williams said, showing a rare smile. “Oh, hello, Miss Brauer. What do you think?”
She read over his shoulder.