The Lost Girl of Astor Street

Lydia rises from the couch with straight-backed grace that showcases her good breeding. “I need to tell the Barrows I can no longer watch Cole, but I’m going to go home and tell Matthew how I feel.” The slight waver in her voice is the only indicator of her nerves. “I’ll do it without your support, but having it would mean the world to me.”


I’m taller than she, but standing here beside her, it feels as though I’m a child and Lydia is hopping onto the train of womanhood. And what else can a best friend do when a farewell comes but give a hug, promise to write often, and wave good-bye?

“What will you say to him?”

She takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll see if he’s free to go out tonight.” Her laugh is high and wheezy. “I have absolutely no idea.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something brilliant. And I’m sure you don’t need to. He cares about you. It’s obvious.”

Lydia grins, and for a moment we’re both just girls. “You think that about everyone.” She squeezes me close. “But thank you.”

I hold open the door for her, and my friend who wears adulthood with such ease steps out. She shivers. “I was so furious on my way over, I guess I didn’t notice the wind. Doesn’t the weather know it’s almost summer?”

“Here.” I unhook my coat from the rack and hand it to her.

“Thank you.” Lydia wraps it tight around her. “Maybe wearing it will help me to be brave like you. I’ll bring it back later tonight.”

I wave the offer away. “Wear it on your date. But ring me later.”

Her smile is nervous, but her eyes bright. “I will.”

Watching her walk down the steps, it seems impossible to believe she won’t be able to call Matthew her own by the end of the evening. “Want me to walk you home?”

Lydia laughs. “I can manage the three houses, I think. But thank you.”

Still, I stand on the front porch and watch until she unlatches her gate. “Farewell, my friend.”

Though it would be impossible for her to hear me, Lydia looks up and calls a chipper, “Good-bye!” before giving me one last wave and smile.




“You’re very quiet tonight, Piper.” Father arches his silver eyebrows at me as he cuts through his steak. “Is something troubling you?”

I shake away thoughts of Lydia and Matthew. Of the silent telephone. “No.” I put on a smile for Father and Nick. “Not at all.”

“Did school go well today?”

“It did.”

Father continues to look at me as he chews. A lawyer trick of his to keep someone talking. I pick up my glass of milk with my left hand and tuck my bruised right hand under my pleated skirt.

“We’re studying poetry in English, and I find it rather boring.”

Father chuckles. “You get that from me, I’m afraid. Your mother loved it. She used to recite Psalms to me.” He pops a bite of steak into his mouth. “From the Bible.”

“I’m familiar with Psalms, Father. I pay attention on Sunday mornings.”

Father winks at me. “Good for you, Piper.” He swirls the red wine in his glass and holds it up as if offering me a toast. “Don’t tell Reverend on me.”

Despite alcohol being illegal, I don’t imagine Reverend would be too shocked to learn Father continues to enjoy a nightly glass of wine.

The table falls into silence, with the exception of chewing and Nick’s rustling newspaper. Dinners when Mother was still with us were alive with conversation. Mostly between her and Father, but also us kids. She certainly never would have allowed Nick to read the newspaper during marked family time.

Nick turns the page. “Looks like a promising season for the Cubs. Jigger Statz will be back.”

“I would have more faith in the organization if they would sign Walter.” I stab my boiled carrots. “But I suppose there’s always next season.”

Father pours himself another glass of red and offers the bottle to my brother. “Nick, you help with the Cassanos’ cases. You should enjoy some of the spoils.”

As Father and Nick lapse into lawyer speak about the evidence that earned a dismissal of the charges against a client, my thoughts drift to Walter and our conversation yesterday. Would he still want to play for the Cubs now that Audrey is in the picture? It rattles me to think how tempted he is to give up his first love—baseball—because of a few good dates.

Why did both my dear friends have to fall in love at the same time? It leaves me woefully short of sane people with whom I can converse.

“We were lucky to end up with Judge Hill.” Nick swirls his wine, imitating Father. “He’s smart enough to see which police have been bought by the Finnegans.”

Father shakes his head. “The statement from Giovanni’s son sealed the deal, I think.” He glances at me. Smiles. “But let’s not speak of such gruesome matters in front of Piper. Especially not tonight.” The way he lays his napkin beside his plate and leans back in his chair calls to mind Joyce saying he’d requested Nick and I be present for dinner. “I have some good news to share with you both.”

I brace myself for the blow that I’ve anticipated these last six months.

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