“He was probably afraid you would find out from one of the other applicants. He chose to tell you his version before someone else told you hers.” Tempy patted the bench next to her.
“Maybe, but he didn’t seem to be afraid. He seemed to challenge me. Can you understand that?” Faith sat down.
“I don’t know,” Tempy admitted, “but what I understand or don’t understand doesn’t matter. The question is whether you understand. Can you go along with this business arrangement?”
“He wanted me, Tempy,” Faith whispered, “I felt it.”
“Other men have wanted you,” Tempy reminded her. “Despite what your Aunt Virtuous says, I know of at least three men who have approached you since the end of the war.”
“A drunk, a man old enough to be my grandfather, and a married captain with a wife and two grown children in Wisconsin,” Faith said. “All of them offered me to take me away from all this”—she waved her arm toward the parlor—“and set me up in a little place of my own. Their offers were not flattering.”
“Did you find Reese Jordan’s offering flattering?”
Faith thought for a moment. “Yes, strangely enough, I did. I didn’t feel dirty or that he was offering me a sordid ‘arrangement’. I felt he was offering me an opportunity. Have I shocked you terribly, Aunt Tempy?” A pink tinge colored her cheeks as Faith turned to face her beloved aunt.
Tempy smiled at Faith. “I’m surprised, but far from shocked. Your face lights up when you talk about him.”
Faith turned a deeper shade of pink and lowering her eyes, contemplated the folds in her apron as she spoke. “Aunt Tempy, we desperately need that money, but I don’t know what to do. I should be appalled at Reese Jordan’s offer, but I’m not. The idea of having his baby—” Faith stopped suddenly and met her aunt’s eyes. “What would people here in Richmond think if they found out? Can you imagine the scandal if any of our friends even suspected?”
“Better than you,” Tempy said. “Don’t you think I know what you’re feeling, Faith? I wasn’t always your aunt Tempy. I was young once and very much in love.”
“I never knew…” Faith began.
“Of course not. It happened before you were born, and it isn’t the sort of thing I would normally talk about. But, Faith, darling, I do understand some of what you feel. I was sixteen, younger than you are now. All my sisters were married and away from home and I was left at home with a sick mother and a house to oversee. I thought life was passing me by until the day Kevin O’Malley rode up to the house, fresh off the boat from Ireland. Papa hired him as a horse trainer. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen and far better educated far better than any horse trainer I’d ever met. We fell in love. Kevin wanted to marry me, but Papa refused
to consider his proposal.” Tempy stopped and blinked back tears, then rose from the table, walked to the stove and poured two steaming cups of coffee. She carried both cups back to the table, placed one in front of Faith, and sat back down at the scarred, pine table.
“What happened?”
“I ran away with Kevin. We went to Baltimore, married, and planned to take a ship to the West Indies. My father tracked us down. He had Kevin beaten, then signed him on as a crewman aboard a ship. I never saw him again. Our marriage was annulled. The family thought they could forget it. Thought I’d forget it, but I didn’t. And neither could they. I had a part of Kevin with me. I was carrying his child.” Tempy paused, remembering. “When Father found out, he sent me to stay with a distant cousin in Philadelphia until the baby was born.” She smiled at Faith. “I couldn’t keep my child. Circumstances and my father prevented it.”
“Oh, Aunt Tempy, I’m so sorry.” Faith got up from the table and embraced her aunt.
“Don’t be sorry, Faith. A few weeks after I returned to Richmond, your mother gave birth. She was ill for long months afterward. I stayed here to help with the other children and to take care of you. I’ve always been here for you. I couldn’t keep my child, but I’ve always been here when you needed me.”
“You never married.”
“I would have liked to marry, but not without love and I loved only Kevin. And after the scandal I caused, I never had the opportunity. Oh, I received lots of offers, but none of them were marriage proposals,” Tempy concluded.
“It’s such a shame, Aunt Tempy. You’ve missed so much.”
“Have I missed any more than you?” Tempy asked. “I’ve loved a man, Faith, and had that love returned, and I’ve experienced the joy and the heartbreak of bearing a child. I don’t want you to miss that, but I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself to someone to provide money for the rest of us. Do you understand the difference?”
“Have you any regrets, Tempy?”
Tempy smiled sadly. “I don’t allow any. And if you choose to accept Reese Jordan’s offer, do so because you feel it’s the right thing for you to do. Don’t look back, and don’t regret your decision. If you choose to reject his offer, do so for the same reason. I love you, Faith. I’ll support your decision. We all make the best choice at the time. It’s all any of us can do. All you can do. You can’t live your life regretting the past. It’s too short and too precious for that. Think about what you want, my dear, don’t think about us or the money.”
“But the money is important, Tempy,” Faith reminded her, “It’s important to all of us, to our well-being and livelihood. I didn’t realize how important until today.” Faith looked around at all the food and gifts. “Reese’s money was responsible for all this.” She waved her right arm to indicate the Christmas bounty.
“These are just things, Faith. Can you carry a child and give it up for money? Ask yourself that question before you decide. Ask yourself why you would even consider doing it. Why? That’s what’s important.”
Faith kissed her aunt on the cheek. “What made you so wise, Aunt Tempy?”
Tempy smiled at Faith. “Experience.” She watched as Faith walked into the parlor to take tea with Joy and her dolls. “And love,” she whispered.
* * *
Faith spent a sleepless night. She tossed from side to side, turning first one way and then another, bumping Joy in her futile attempt to find a comfortable position.