CeCe had put on a clean uniform and carefully brushed her hair. It was too much to expect that Mother would come; she lived in Boston, where she worked as a housekeeper, and to come back here on her Sunday off was impossible. Her father would not come, of course—she hadn’t seen him since he’d dropped her off here. But she’d had a letter from someone else instead.
She watched, scanning each face as visitors came into the room. A set of parents. A mother with two children. It was nearly Halloween, and the two children had brought candy for their sister at school, which they were obviously reluctant to part with. Finally, a young man appeared, neatly groomed and wearing a navy blue seersucker suit. He was directed to her table. CeCe stood up and smiled.
He smiled back as he approached her. He had dark brown hair slicked back with pomade, and the white shirt beneath his suit jacket was starched and clean, his tie straight. He had gray eyes beneath bold, level brows and a thin face with high cheekbones. He was handsome, CeCe thought, except that his front teeth were just a little crooked. But otherwise he was decent-looking, classy. He looked to be about twenty.
“Hi,” he said when he got close enough to speak. “Cecilia?”
“That’s me,” she said, jittery with nervousness. “Call me CeCe.”
He shook her hand. If he noticed how clammy hers was, he didn’t let on. “I’m Joseph.”
“It’s so nice,” she said, then realized that she hadn’t finished her sentence. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“You, too.” He gestured for her to sit, and he sat across from her and smiled again. “So, do you think we have a resemblance?”
They had none, not the slightest, but CeCe smiled at him and said, “I don’t know. I guess.”
“Well, since we have the same father, there must be some resemblance somewhere,” he said. He looked her up and down, and she was painfully aware of the soft curves bulging beneath her uniform, the dark thick hair that was nothing like his. She’d been so excited to meet him, this boy. He was another illegitimate child of her father’s by a different mother, though his mother wasn’t a servant, like hers. His mother was the daughter of a banker, and Brad Ellesmere had helped her set up house when she’d gotten pregnant, given her support until she found a husband. He’d stayed close to Joseph, too—Joseph was the favorite child, the son. Though, as with CeCe, he hadn’t given Joseph his family name.
Joseph had written her last week, asking to come and see her. They were family, he said, even if their family was on the wrong side of the blanket. He had no other legitimate brothers or sisters, and he was tracking down all of his father’s other children with his father’s blessing, hoping to find family where he had none. CeCe had no other brothers and sisters, either, and she’d replied to him enthusiastically, asking him to come.
“So,” she said to him now, trying not to fidget. “Have you found any other siblings?”
“Sure,” he said. “Two others, one in North Carolina and one in Baltimore. Dad sure did get around.” He stopped and blushed bright red. “Oh, jeez, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” CeCe shook her head. “I’ve heard it before. I’ve heard everything by now, as I’m sure you have.”
“It isn’t always easy,” Joseph agreed. “When I was a little kid, I used to lie in bed and dream about having normal parents.”
“Me, too.” CeCe felt her own face heating. There were other illegitimate girls at Idlewild, but she’d never talked to another girl about what it was like. “I used to daydream that Dad would come and sweep my mother off her feet and marry her.”
“So did I.” Joseph laughed. The sound was awkward, but CeCe liked it. It was exactly like her own awkward laugh. “I guess he can’t marry everyone.”
This was good, CeCe thought. This was really good. Having family that wasn’t Mother. She couldn’t believe he was being so nice to her when he didn’t have to, that he wasn’t embarrassed. “Who were the other two you found?” she asked. “Boys or girls?”
“Girls, both,” he said. He put his hands on the table and tried to keep them still. “Dad says I’m the only boy. The other two didn’t want to see me, though.” He shrugged. “Their mothers got married, too, like mine, and they don’t want anything to do with Dad or his other kids.”
Sisters. I have sisters. She tried to keep her expression calm. “That’s too bad.”
“Yeah. Say, I got you something.” He lifted a small cardboard box. “It’s just a little thing. I didn’t have time to get it wrapped or anything.”
CeCe blinked at the box. “A gift? Joseph, really . . .”
“Hey, you’re my sister, right?” he said softly. “It’s the least I can do. Open it up.”
She blinked hard and removed the lid from the box. Inside was a strange-looking cube of plastic, adorned with a knob and a lot of holes. “What, um,” she said, feeling stupid, “what is it?”
“It’s a radio,” he explained. He lifted the square from the box and turned it. “You switch it on here, see, and you tune in to a station using this knob. This is brand-new, CeCe. A prototype. Dad got me one last month. It’s the greatest thing.”
“Okay,” CeCe said cautiously. She’d seen radios before—the Ellesmeres had had one—but they were the size of cabinets. She’d never seen a radio so small. She was almost positive that such a thing was against Idlewild rules, but Joseph wouldn’t know that. “So I can just turn it on and listen to music?”
“Or radio shows, or whatever is on,” he said. “Sometimes there are symphonies, or operas, or big band shows. All kinds of things.”
She looked up at him, blinking in amazement. This really was a nice gift. “Wasn’t it expensive?”
He waved that away. “I wanted to get you something. You’re trapped in this dusty old boarding school. Who wouldn’t want a radio in a place like this?”
“That’s true.” CeCe laughed. She had no resentment that as the daughter of a housekeeper she’d been sent to boarding school, while he’d probably been given private tutors. That was just the way of the world. Besides, their father sent her money and presents sometimes, too. He hadn’t forgotten her entirely. “Nothing much happens here. I’ll have to hide it, though, or the dorm monitors will confiscate it.”
He seemed surprised at that, but he promptly dropped the radio back in the box and closed the lid. “Am I making you break the rules?”
“I’ve done it before.”
He grinned. “I like the sound of that.” They smiled at each other for a second, and CeCe thought again, This is good. “Listen,” Joseph said. “Dad tells me your mother is a housekeeper in Boston.”
“It’s surprising he’s been so open with you about all of this,” she said. “Doesn’t he worry people will disapprove?” She blushed again. “What about, um, his wife?” Her mother had never told her anything about her father’s wife—not a single word.
“His wife is sick,” Joseph said bluntly. “They never had any kids, you know, in the marriage. So Dad is behind me in this. He doesn’t have any sons. Except me. I don’t think he cares very much what people think. He wants his kids taken care of, even if they aren’t his wife’s. I mean, who is going to take over his business someday, if it isn’t me?”
CeCe nodded and looked down at the box on the table in front of her, drawing her thumbnail along the lid. She didn’t know her father well—barely at all, actually—but he’d never been unkind to her. It was other people who were unkind. And, of course, Mother was ashamed, while Father wasn’t. That, too, was the way of the world.
She had the sudden feeling this visit had more to it than just friendliness from a long-lost half brother, though she couldn’t quite figure out what it was. “I guess he’s always been honest.”
“He has.” Joseph paused. “He told me about your mother and the time you almost died at the beach.”
Her head jerked up. No one talked about that. Never. “That was an accident.”
Joseph shook his head. “That’s not what Dad says.”
“He doesn’t know,” she said, the words coming out forceful with her sudden anger. “He wasn’t there. It was an accident.”
But still he shook his head, so calm, so certain. A young man who had been told the truth by his father, undoubting. “Look, no one blames you. Not at all. But your mother—”