The Problem Child (Emerson Pass Historicals 4)

One night after work, I went over to my parents’ for supper. We enjoyed a nice meal, but I was distracted enough that my mother noticed and asked me if everything was all right.

“Oh, yes. I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve something I want to ask you about.”

“What it is?” Mother looked over at me with concern in her eyes. “Is all well with Cymbeline?”

“Yes, quite well. I’d like to ask for her hand in marriage but would like your blessing.”

Father and Mother didn’t even try to hide their wordless exchange. Given the smiles, I could see they were pleased.

“We expected as much,” Father said. “Here’s my question. Would you marry her without our approval?”

I was taken aback. Did this mean they didn’t approve? I thought for a moment about the question. The answer, I’m ashamed to admit, was yes. Obedient son though I was, Cymbeline was the woman I wanted. Nothing would get in my way, not even duty. “I would.”

“Then that gives us our answer,” Father said.

“It does?” I asked.

“We would never forbid you from marrying whomever you wish,” Mother said. “But it’s important that you begin married life dedicated to the idea that no one will keep you from the other. Not even your family.”

My parents gave each other another look. Had they gone against their parents’ wishes? “Is that what happened to you?” I asked.

“We were from different backgrounds,” Father said. “You mother was practically a queen.”

“What?” I asked, stunned.

“Your father exaggerates,” Mother said. “My family had money and stature. That is all. We were not kin to royalty, as your father likes to tease.”

“As you know, son, my father was a tailor and his before him.” Father drummed his fingers against the tabletop. “I was not good enough for your mother.”

She patted his hand. “Only from the viewpoint of my family—who didn’t have the best eyesight.”

How had I never heard this story before? “Is that why you came to America?”

“Not the only reason, but partly, yes,” Mother said. “My family shunned me. Living there became painful. Especially after you boys were born and they wouldn’t see you. We decided to start a new life here in America. When we got to Boston, we saw an advertisement in the newspaper from Lord Barnes, asking for tailors to apply for an opportunity to open a shop here in town. We didn’t hesitate.”

“A very good decision,” Father said. “We’ve had a good life here.”

My mind couldn’t quite grab hold of this new information. I’d always assumed Mother and Father had come from similar circumstances. “But how did you meet?”

“He was my father’s tailor,” Mother said.

Father nodded. “I’d go the estate for fittings and such. One day, I was upstairs waiting for her father to come in for a final fitting. I looked out the window to pass the time. And there she was, sitting in the garden.”

“Father needed a new tuxedo for the annual dance hosted by my family,” Mother said. “I’ve been fond of that dance ever since.”

Father’s gaze moved to the far wall, as if he’d fallen into the past. “The way the sun glinted off her golden hair caught my attention first.” He made a twirling movement over his head. “It was all piled up in this twist of a thing, as complicated as a cross-stitch. She had a cat in her lap and a book in her hands.”

“Dordi,” Mother said softly. “My first baby. She wore a tuxedo for her fur. A sign from God, I realized later.”

Father chuckled and rested his hands on the table. “I thought to myself, ‘What a gift to be idle with enough time to read and stroke a cat.’ I would have dismissed her from my mind completely if she had not taken that moment to look up.”

“Startled to see anyone there, I simply stared at him.” Mother smiled at the memory. “Such a large man. Big enough to fill in the entire frame of the window.”

“She waved at me, and I waved back.”

“Next time he came to see my father, I made sure to be inside.”

“We started to see each other in secret, and then we eloped,” Father said. “And that was that.”

That was that. No couple could ever really explain what had happened in those moments when they fell in love. The deepness of their love and connection wasn’t something to be summed up in a few words. To sustain that love over decades, too? What was the secret?

“I learned as much as I could so that I could help him run the shop,” Mother said. “I’d always been clever at math. To my surprise, I was useful for something besides being pretty. I often wonder what would have become of me if I hadn’t met your father. Women should have more than being like a vase of flowers for everyone to enjoy until they grow limp and wither.”

“It’s important to build something together,” Father said. “Whether it’s raising a family or running a business, working together keeps you close.”

“Like this jumping competition,” Mother said. “Even though it is her work to do, she couldn’t have done it without you. You are a team.”

Had there been something of my mother’s that was hers alone? Or had she taken on Father’s life without any sense of what she would have done otherwise? Was I like this with Cym, taking on her dreams as if they were my own? “I don’t have anything that drives me like it does her. I’m content. Is that wrong?” I sighed, relieved to say my fears out loud.

“Her dreams have become yours,” Father said. “There’s nothing wrong with this as long as you don’t have to give up too much of yourself.”

“But what about you, Mother? Did you ever feel like you gave up too much?” The words were out of my mouth before I concluded it might be a hurtful thing to ask in front of Father.

“Quite honestly, no,” Mother said. “My life would have been one of leisure but without the fullness of living every day with the person I loved. We’ve been rich with love. Growing our business together has given me purpose and satisfaction.”

“And you boys,” Father said. “Our greatest pride and joy.”

I choked back tears. “I hope I will always make you proud.”

“Have you been worried?” Mother asked. “About you and Cymbeline?”

“No, not really. Just something Flynn said to me the other day had me thinking.”

Mother made a tutting sound. “That boy.”

I didn’t ask what she meant—I already knew. Cym and Fiona weren’t the only ones who’d noticed the changes in Flynn Barnes. “I’ll have to ask Lord Barnes for permission, of course.”

“We wish you the best of luck,” Father said.

“Will you want to marry right away?” Mother asked.

“I wouldn’t want to spoil anything for Nora,” I said. “Depending on what date she and Isak pick, as soon as possible.”

“That’s thoughtful of you.” Mother patted my shoulder. “Good boy.”

“I couldn’t care one way or the other as long as she marries me. Her mother and sisters will have some ideas, I’m sure.”

“Knowing Cymbeline, she might like to have a ceremony on the side of the mountain,” Mother said. “Hopefully not while in air.”

I laughed. “You might be right.”