She hadn’t realized how much she needed to talk to a man about Mrs. O’Brien and her daughter. How desperate she had been for reassurance that there were men in the world who would object and object strongly, if they knew.
When Jack had been gone for almost a week Anna came home from the hospital to find his sisters in the parlor. Apparently they had sent a note in the morning, to which Aunt Quinlan responded with an invitation for the evening. And why, Anna wanted to know, hadn’t her aunt sent word to her at the hospital?
To this question—whispered as she kissed Aunt Quinlan hello—she got the answer she expected: “You would have found a reason to stay away.” Anna didn’t believe it was true, but it might have been even a month ago. She greeted Bambina and Celestina with hugs and kisses and apologies for her weeklong silence thinking, If Jack can disappear from the face of the earth, well, then so can I.
If only Sophie were there, she wouldn’t have been quite so nervous. But Sophie was out on a call. Anna steeled her resolve; she could do this without Sophie at her back, and if not, she had no business even thinking about marriage. And so Anna let herself be steered to a chair, accepted a cup of milky sweet tea, and listened as everyone talked at once in an attempt to relay what had been happening in her absence.
Rosa sat between Bambina and Celestina with a small tooled leather case in her lap, laid open to reveal a sewing kit complete with scissors, an ivory thimble, a paper of pins and another of needles, a measuring tape, and a whole rainbow of cotton threads and fine woolen yarns.
“I’m going to learn to sew.” She was smiling, a full and open smile, a rarity. Somehow the Mezzanotte sisters had managed to jolt her out of a steadily darkening mood, and Anna was truly thankful to them.
There were gifts for everyone, an embarrassment of riches: Lia had a sewing box too but was far more interested in a doll made, it seemed, of boiled wool; Mrs. Lee was busy arranging a double armful of roses—the sinfully expensive roses Anna had made such a fuss about—and peonies and lilac in three of the largest vases; on the table peeking out of a storm of tissue Anna could make out hand-hemmed and embroidered handkerchiefs, a beautiful wool shawl, several folded lengths of knitted lace, and a half-dozen other bits of finery.
“We have things for you too,” Bambina said. “But I think you’ll be more interested in this.” She pressed a letter into Anna’s hands, the plain brown envelope nothing out of the ordinary, but for the outline of a small box, barely one inch square.
“It arrived this morning with instructions to deliver it to you today,” Celestina said.
Anna found herself unable to look away from the letter and her name written across it in Jack’s strong hand. She wondered if she could find the patience to wait through the rest of the visit. When she looked up again she realized that everyone was watching her study the letter.
Aunt Quinlan gave her a sweet and almost melancholy smile. “Anna,” she said. “You’ll want to change for supper and I’d like to show our guests the garden. We’ll sit in the pergola and enjoy the weather for a bit.”
It was difficult, but Anna managed to leave the room without jumping for joy. She went straight to her room and closed the door behind herself.
? ? ?
SOPHIE GOT HOME and was sent straight upstairs by Mrs. Lee, who announced that Detective Sergeant Mezzanotte’s sisters had come and brought Anna a letter from Chicago. Right now the guests were sitting in the pergola with tea, but Sophie had a job to do. Before Mrs. Lee’s curiosity got the better of her, Sophie had to find out what was in that letter from Chicago.
She found Anna sitting at her desk, the letter open on her lap. On her palm she held a package smaller than a matchbox, tied with a thin silk ribbon the color of buttercream. She smiled when Sophie came in, a rueful smile that said Mrs. Lee’s curiosity was not unfounded.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Anna said. “I’m almost afraid to open this.”
“A ring?”
“I think so.”
“I take it you knew it was coming.”
Anna made a humming noise, one that Sophie recognized as a plea for understanding.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugged. “I thought it would be better to wait until he gets home from Chicago. In case things changed.”
Sophie sat down with a sigh. “Your cynicism costs you dearly sometimes, doesn’t it? Take heart, Anna. Your ring can’t be any worse than mine.”
She held out her hand to display the evidence. “Or are you unsure you want to accept it at all?”
For a moment they studied Sophie’s ring. Diamonds the color of tobacco in a setting that jutted up like the prow of a ship.
“You could put out an eye with that,” Anna observed. “What was Cap’s mother thinking?”
“It came from her mother-in-law,” Sophie said. “He’s apologized more than once, but if I don’t wear it—”
Anna rolled her eyes. “He’s terribly traditional for all his wickedness.”