The Edge of Dreams (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #14)

Bridie came over and hugged me fiercely.

“Careful, child. Molly’s been injured.” Mrs. Sullivan touched my shoulder as if I was made of porcelain as she leaned forward to kiss my cheek. “But you, my poor dear girl. What a terrible thing to have happened to you. When we read about it in the newspaper I said to Martha ‘I just hope nobody we know was riding on that train.’ And then we got Daniel’s telegram. It’s a miracle you’re still alive, saints be praised.”

“Yes, it is a miracle,” I said. “I almost got in the car ahead, but there was a man coughing and I didn’t want Liam to catch a disease. That was the car that plunged down and so many people were killed. I was in the car that hung down over the edge. We would have fallen all the way to the street as well, but we came to rest against the side of a building.”

“Awful!” she exclaimed again. “And Daniel says you’ve broken ribs?”

“Either cracked or bruised, not broken,” I said. “But they certainly hurt enough when I try to do anything like pick up Liam.”

“Of course they would. Well, I’m here now.”

Mrs. Sullivan turned to the cabby who was struggling with a large trunk. “Bring that up to the house, will you?” she said. The cabby gave a sigh as he heaved it onto his shoulder and followed us. I opened the front door.

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am,” I said. “Please do come in. I’m afraid the house isn’t quite ready yet, but Sid and Gus have lent me some items so we’ll get by for now.”

“They are still living across the street then?” She shot a disapproving glare at their house. “Last thing I heard they were off gallivanting in Europe.”

“Yes, they just came home recently from Vienna. Miss Walcott has been studying with Professor Freud.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Not that awful man who says that all we think about is…” She lowered her voice and said, “S-e-x.”

“I can spell, you know,” Bridie said. “But you never told me what sex is.”

“Later, dear,” Mother Sullivan said. She turned back to the cabby. “You might as well take that upstairs to my room.”

“I’m a cabdriver, not a footman or a delivery boy,” he said. “I’ll leave it in the front hall. You can do what you like with it after that.”

“And I was going to give him a good tip too,” Mother Sullivan said as the cabby stomped away and I closed the front door behind him.

“Now, where’s that adorable grandson of mine?” she asked.

“He’s asleep on my bed. His crib is still at the apartment where Daniel’s been staying. He’s supposed to pack up our stuff and have it delivered, but the Lord knows when he’ll find time to do that. He’s been awfully busy lately.”

“When is that poor boy not busy?” she said. “Working himself to the grave, that’s what he’s doing. You must persuade him to leave the police, Molly. I’ve told you we have friends who would be only too glad to help him get into politics.”

“But he loves what he does, Mother Sullivan. He’s not designed for a life of leisure, you know that.”

She sniffed. “You’re right about that. Just like his father.”

I showed her the newly furnished parlor and then took her upstairs to the bedrooms. She didn’t seem particularly impressed, but then I realized that everything looked just as it once was to her. She had never seen my house burned and in ruins. She had no idea of the work it had taken to bring it back to how it was. And as I looked at it myself I felt ashamed that I had criticized Daniel for doing it all without me. It had been a mammoth task for him and one undertaken with love. I’d tell him that as soon as he got home.

At our bedroom door Mother Sullivan stopped short, as Liam lay blissfully asleep on top of the eiderdown. “Oh, I see you already have the bed made up,” she said. “Daniel told me you’d no bed linens. That’s why I brought the trunk with me.”

“Oh, these are only borrowed from my neighbors, in case you’d not brought the bed linens with you but had them sent by a carter service,” I said quickly. “And we’ll need to make up a bed for Bridie, since I didn’t know she was coming. There’s a bed up in the old maid’s room, Bridie, love. You can have a room to yourself.”

“You can get the linens you’ll need from the trunk and make up the bed yourself, Bridie,” Mrs. Sullivan said. As soon as Bridie was out of the way she turned to me. “She’s getting to an age when I’m wondering what to do with her, Molly.”