16
Fiona
What hadI thought would happen? I would simply bring these children home and all would miraculously fall into place? The truth is, I wasn’t thinking. I acted purely on instinct. Two boys were being harmed and I couldn’t stand by and watch it happen.
Still stinging from my conversation with Li, I returned to help Gabriella with the boys. We had both of the boys bathed by the time I heard the front door shut behind Li. After Gabriella had dried their scrawny bodies with towels and I’d combed Bleu’s hair, I herded them into my bedroom. With towels wrapped around their waists, they stood near the window, shivering despite the warmth of the afternoon.
Gabriella had already told them we were gathering new clothes, and they seemed unconcerned with their lack of dress. Bleu, who spoke for both of them most of the time, yawned. Beaumont followed suit. What did it matter if they had nothing to wear to bed? I would tuck them into my own and let them sleep, safe and warm.
I asked Gabriella to tell them that it was now time for a nap. “And tell them we’ll have a meal in the evening if they’re good boys and rest.” This would give me the opportunity to shop for food. I’d planned on dining out with Li, but we would need to stay in if we had the boys.
I ushered both of them into my double bed. Both kept their towels around their waists but I don’t suppose either of them cared much. They were happy for a soft bed.
They curled up together, like kittens in a basket. I could imagine what they looked like during long nights on the streets, huddled together for warmth. By the time I’d drawn the curtains, they were asleep. I gazed down at them for a moment. Although skinny, they were beautiful boys, with high cheekbones and adorable pointy chins. Dark hair and skin bronzed by the sun, they could easily be Emerson Pass’s own boys who spent many summer afternoons at the river.
I pulled the sheet over their shoulders but left the covers piled at their feet. The room would continue to warm in the late afternoon, and I didn’t want them too hot.
Gabriella was at the kitchen sink scrubbing the boys’ filthy clothes. “I don’t know, miss, if these will survive the cleaning.” She held up a pair of trousers. “Do you see how thin?”
I explained that Li was out finding clothes suitable for the boys.
Gabriella’s face clouded. “I do know where there are shops. For my little boy. Lucien. I shopped for him in Paris once.”
Little boy? She’d had a child? What about a husband? Where were either of them? “Where is he now?”
“He died,” Gabriella said flatly. “A bad fever came to him, and he was too small to fight.”
“I’m very sorry.” Impulsively, I grabbed her into a hug.
She was stiff at first, obviously surprised, but loosened all at once, as if she were jumping from a cliff, and hugged me back. When we parted, she wiped the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand.
This poor woman, losing her child. A wave of sadness swept over me. Thinking of losing any member of my family made me want to weep.
My family. What would they think of me taking home two little street urchins? What was I doing? And I’d dragged poor Li into it. As usual, he came along, looking after me. No wonder he wouldn’t fall in love with me. I was a pesky gnat.
“You take boys home with you?” Gabriella asked. “Take me too and I will help you?” She smiled, as if she were joking.
Why not, I thought? “Would you be happy in America?”
“I’m not happy anywhere. I simply survive.” She looked out the window with a glazed expression. What did she think of when she looked out to the streets of Paris? Did she think of her lost boy? “How old was Lucien?”
“He was only one year old.” Gabriella’s eyes filled with tears. “My precious baby.”
“What about your husband?”
She bowed her head. Dots of red speckled her cheeks. “I have no husband.”
No husband. A baby without a husband? The idea was as shocking to me as learning about my new friends and their alternative ways of living. It struck me how naive I’d been—sheltered away as I was in Emerson Pass. Was this why God had led me to Paris? To learn about people who weren’t exactly like me and my family?
“Do you think badly of me now?” Gabriella asked.
“Of course not.” I didn’t think badly of her, but I did see her differently now. I’d assumed things about her without taking into consideration that she might have made mistakes or done things she was ashamed of. But hadn’t we all? They might not have as large a consequence as having relations out of wedlock. Or as visible. However, none of us were perfect.
“What happened to the father of your baby?” Was he like Mr. Basset, who preyed on vulnerable women? Had Gabriella fallen for a man like that?
“He died in the war. Before we could marry. The shame followed me everywhere. I was sent away from my village and everyone I’ve known. My own mother would not even look at me. The priest in our church would not baptize my baby. I left the village with only the clothes on my back and a little money Dimitri had left me. We were planning to marry when he came home for leave, but he never did.”
I shook my head, not knowing what to say. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“How could you? I don’t talk about the past.” She wrung the pants over the sink, squeezing as much water out of them as she could. “What will you do with the boys? Please tell me you won’t send them away. They’ll go back to fighting. We do what we have to—to stay alive. Even when life is miserable, we keep fighting to live. I don’t understand why. Every morning I wake and find I’m still here and I wonder why I don’t have the courage to smother myself with a pillow.”
“Gabriella, I understand the pain must seem unbearable. Losing a child—there’s nothing worse. But can you reach inside yourself and find another purpose for living? Another way to have a meaningful life?”
“I’ve been happier since coming here. With you.” She gave me a sad, sweet smile that broke my heart.
“You can stay with me as long as you like. If you truly want to go, I’ll pay for you to come to America with Li and me when it is time. You could live in the mountains and learn to ski. Papa and Mama can find a position for you in the big house or once—” I almost said, “once I’m married you could work for me.” But I would never marry. Not if it wasn’t Li. His arrival here had answered any remaining questions I had. “Or you can work for one of my sisters or brothers.” I almost told her about all the babies that had come to us and all the ones I expected we would have. However, I stopped myself beforehand, realizing how painful that might be to Gabriella.
“I would have to leave his grave.” Tears tumbled out of her eyes and fell into her dimples.
I handed her my handkerchief. “I imagine it would be hard to leave because of that. But isn’t he here?” I tapped my chest. “And in heaven, watching over you?”
She nodded, clutching the handkerchief to her chest. “I know he’s there. When I ran away to Paris, I found a vicar willing to baptize him. I told him my husband had died in the war. He didn’t check to see if I was telling truth. It is the only thing that allows me to sleep at night, knowing he is with Jesus now.”
I led her over to one of the chairs. “Sit for a moment. I’ll pour us some tea.”
“No, no, I must make tea for you.”
“I can do it just this once.” I patted her hand and pushed her gently to sit.
She perched on the edge of the chair as if ready to spring away at a moment’s notice. Gabriella was unpredictable and tense, ready to run when scared or challenged. I poured us each a cup of tea. “I lost my mother when I was only a baby. She died a terrible death. Papa was left with all five of us. I was only an infant. For three years, we were alone with only Papa, whom we adored. Still, there was something missing. Josephine and the twins remembered our mother enough that they missed her. I was blissfully unaware of her loss. But there was such darkness, Gabriella, in our house. My real mother was sick. Not in her body but here.” I tapped the side of my head. “She was confused and depressed. There were incidents of violence against her own children.”
Gabriella gasped. “No, how is it possible?”
“We don’t understand what could cause such a thing. No one does, really. The doctor was no help. If we had lived in the city, they probably would have sent her to an asylum.” I shivered, thinking of such a place. I’d read about them in books and newspaper articles over the years and had felt sick at the thought of anyone being sent to one. “Her episodes had started in earnest after the twins were born. Papa didn’t speak of it often, but Josephine remembered a lot from the age of five until ten, when our mother died. My poor Papa. He was all alone, except for Jasper and Lizzie, of course. They’d come with Papa from England when they were all young. They did what they could for him and for us, of course, but nothing could take the place of having a mother. When I was three, our stepmother came to us. She loved us and healed our sadness. The twins and Jo were no longer haunted by the way our mother lived or died.” I stopped myself from telling poor Gabriella about my mother’s death. To this day, we did not know if she’d walked out of the house with the intent to kill herself or if her madness had caused her to do so. “Cymbeline and I—that’s my other sister—learned what it was like to be loved by a mother.” I stirred a teaspoon of sugar into my tea. “I’m telling you all this because…” What was my reason?