Hope from the Ocean: (The Prequel to Fireflies ) Page 18

  “I left in a rush. Let’s sit over there outta the way. I need to talk to ye.” Owen motioned to a table in the far corner of the hall.

  “Intrigue? This is news, then?”

  “Just have a seat and listen, will ya?” Owen laughed.

  Vernon was a blond-haired, blue-eyed, first generation American, born and raised in Philadelphia to a pair of high society British immigrants. His father was a banker, who invested in trade ships and insisted Vernon enter the family business upon graduation. Vernon worked several evenings a week with his father, learning accounting and other aspects of business which would accelerate his ascension into the ranks of a professional banker, bypassing any required training or ladder climbing. He’d land on his feet in a fine suit at a fine desk with his own top floor office and look out over the city for the rest of life.

  “Have ye a girl, Vernon? I know, we’ve never discussed girls beyond the fine young lassies passin’ by the school but there’s this one…”

  “Aha! Here I was thinking you’d changed your mind about the medical field and decided to stick around here a bit longer. How wrong was I?” Vernon laughed.

  “Oh no, don’t ye be doubtin’ me decision because I’m stickin’ ta that. There’s a young lady–a fine German girl who works in me Aunt’s house and…”

  “Wait now, Owen. You’re not seriously considering some house maid, are you?”

  “Why not? She’s a perfectly lovely girl.” Owen lowered his brow and sat up, leaning a bit back and taking a good look at Vernon as if he were seeing him for the first time.

  “Owen, if you’re looking for a lovely young lady, I know dozens from the club we belong to who’d leap at the opportunity to be courted by a young gentleman headed to medical school, and a bloody genius no less.”

  “What’s wrong with me likin’ Raina? Are ye sayin’ ye think she’s not good enough fer me or somethin’?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Brother, as brilliant as you are, I can’t believe you’ve actually entertained the thought of courting a house maid. How old is this girl?” He looked at Owen over his tea, and took a well-rehearsed sip.

  “I don’t know but I believe she’s plenty old enough.”

  “Well perhaps you might want to find out. Some of these German girls appear to mature quickly, beyond their years. She may be no more than thirteen and you’re what–seventeen now?”

  “I’ve kissed her, Vernon. I kissed her last night. It was the holiest moment of me damn life to date.”

  “Oh, may God rest your soul, my friend.” Vernon chuckled, taking another sip of his tea. “Well? How was it then? Don’t leave me hanging here to dry.”

  “I failed miserably I did–well, the first time.”

  “More than one kiss, then? Go on.”

  “She righted me though and told me how ta fix it. Fix it I did, too. I fixed it so good she nearly tipped right over,” Owen boasted, straightening his shoulders and pulling his own cup of tea to his lips with a smile.

  “She told you how to kiss?” Vernon sat back and folded his arms at his chest with a raised eyebrow. “Owen, did the thought cross your mind at all that this was perhaps only your first kiss?”

  “What are ye sayin’? Are ye tryin’ ta say she’s been kissed before?”

  Vernon once again leaned in for a sip of tea, this time tossing a curious glance and then changing it to a look of ambivalence. “What does it matter anyway. You should be courting ladies of your own stature. Young ladies you can bring to the theater—and to your mother.”

  “Me mother thinks she’s lovely and sweet.” He stood as if he were sprung from his seat and looked down at Vernon. “My stature is of no significance in her eyes and neither is hers in mine. I thought ye a regular mate but I see a Holy Joe in ye and I’m not so sure I like ye anymore. Raina would treat ye square and wouldn’t hold yer money and household against ye, neither. That’s more than I can say fer ye, Vernon Collins.”

  Owen made a swift exit, barely having touched his lunch, and the idea of those delicate rose petals pressed against someone else’s lips gnawed at him. How dare Vernon accuse her of kissing someone else before him? He thought. He raged inside and was barely able to focus on his work for the remainder of the day. He had no choice but to confront Raina but feared her reaction may be less than pleasant. As his ride home gave him time to think, he was able to calm himself and decided not to mention it at all until they’d have time to walk through this question carefully and he would take great care with his words so as not to upset her and turn her away.

  However presumptuous, Vernon did have a valid point. For someone who’d never been kissed, she certainly had knowledge of the proper way to complete the task. He wondered perhaps if she’d seen it done or read some vivid romantic novel, continuing in his attempt to excuse her from any possible blame.

  Rachel met him as soon as he walked through the front door.

  “What is it?” Owen whispered, as she whisked him up the stairs.

  She spoke not a word but rather pulled at him with her boney hand to join her in her room.

  “Is there somethin’ we should discuss?” She motioned for him to have a seat on the bed.

  “I’m not sure I’m understandin’ ye, Ma.”

  “Raina?”

  “What of her? Ma, I don’t know what yer waitin’ fer me ta say.” Owen looked up at her eyes and then at the floor.

  “My sister…she told me when she walked up on ye both this mornin’ in the kitchen, she felt as if she were interruptin’ somethin’. Is that true?” Rachel’s voice softened and she sat down next to Owen as a feather falling to earth.

  “Nothin’ was bein’ interrupted, Ma. We were only chattin’ a bit.”

  “…and last night?” She took him by the chin, turning his head from left to right.

  “Yer still that brave boy aren’t ya? Brave enough to explore a whole new world and all that comes with it. Just be careful. Bravery without knowledge of the challenge has sent many a fool to his bitter end, whatever that end may be.”

  “I don’t think it’s bravery at all,” Owen stated. He leaned forward on his thighs and pressed his palms together before threading his fingers between each other.

  “Then what would ye call the things ye’ve accomplished since we’ve been here? Luck?”

  “I’d say I’ve been nothin’ but lucky.”

  “Well, my goodness. Is it luck that has ye goin’ to the University next month? Is it luck that yer so bright and not only in the books but of people? And yer instincts–those are beyond compare, son.”

  “Ma, everythin’ is luck. The question is, why me? What great blessin’ did I receive that touched me with such a bounty? Before we came to America, I wasn’t anythin’ special. I was no more than a lantern with a dryin’ wick or the stump of a candle in a window, flickerin’ in the draft.” He searched her eyes for an answer. She pulled his folded hands into hers, squeezing them tight.

  “I don’t have an answer for ye. All I know is, somewhere between the shores of the ocean, that blessin’ grabbed hold of ye and held on. Now it’s yer responsibility–no, it’s yer destiny to see to it ye never waste it. Ye’ve got yer whole life ahead of ye and ye’ve been touched with such providence that whatever ye undertake will succeed. Keep reachin’ for it. Keep movin’ forward and never look back. When ye look back for the hows and the whys—when ye question yer good fortune, I feel in me heart that’s when ye’ll lose it. We don’t question things like this, Owen. We just accept them.”

  “…and Raina? Could she be one of those blessin’s ye speak of, or like Vernon says, is she just a test of me faith on this road?”

  “I knew ye’d come around to tellin’ me,” Rachel murmured, brushing a wisp of Owen’s hair from his brow. “Do ye think ye love her, son?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe so or maybe I think I do.”

  “Well, love is the bravest challenge of them all.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “B
ecause there isn’t enough knowledge in the world to prepare you for that challenge. The bravery is the leap of faith we take with another’s heart, and we can never know what truly lies there until we land in it. Tread carefully.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Did ye speak to Owen? I won’t lose Raina due to some boyish romance,” Kathryn said, pulling Rachel aside after dinner. “He should go and study instead of lingerin’ in the kitchen.”

  Rachel did not answer her sister and only nodded, while backing into the kitchen door carrying the empty dinner plates. Owen was already scraping the serving bowls and handing them to Raina when Rachel spun from the door into the room.

  “Owen, why don’t ye go and study and leave this to Raina and I this evenin’?” She eyed him sternly.

  “Well, I was only…”

  “Just go study. We’ll be through here within the hour.”

  Owen sat the bowl he was holding on the counter, breezed past Rachel and headed up to his room.

  “So, Raina, I know we haven’t spoken much but I was wonderin’ how ye and Owen are gettin’ on?” Rachel nearly bit her tongue off when she realized how boldly she had spoken when Raina threw her a look of complete shock.

  “Mum, vat is gettin’ on?”

  “Well,” Rachel said with a sigh, “gettin’ along or perhaps better stated—how is yer friendship?”

  Raina’s shoulders fell a bit forward and she smiled half way, turning back to her work, gently gliding her hands over Kathryn’s fine dishes. “O’en is a good boy. He is so kind.”

  “So, ye’re gettin' along well then?”

  “Yes. Fery well, sank you,” Raina replied. This time, she turned and exposed her full smile before again putting her focus back on the dishes.

  “Raina, what would ye say if I invited ye to join me for a walk tomorrow? I don’t normally venture out on Sunday after church but I thought ye may enjoy doin’ somethin’ other than stayin’ in all day.”

  “A valk? Vere vould ve go?” she answered, this time keeping her eyes and her smile on her work.

  “Oh, I don’t know, perhaps we could find an ice skatin’ rink? Or we could just take in some sights?”

  “Von’t it be fery cold to valk?”

  “We could take the trolley.” She sensed Raina’s resistance and attributed it to her living situation. However, her mind grew clever and her thoughts turned to a plan which even Raina could not refuse. “Raina, I will be as plain as I can be; I need you to come along. I realize Sunday is your only day off but I will pay you meself. I would like to do some Christmas shoppin’ and I will need an extra pair of hands to assist me.”

  “Zis will be vork?” she asked, handing Rachel the last dish and drying her hands in her apron.

  “Yes. This will be work.” Rachel nodded.

  “I vill ask my Aunt and if she agrees, yes, I vill vork for you on Sunday.” Raina smiled and continued cleaning up the kitchen.

  * * *

  Owen watched the clock, anxiously awaiting the seven o’clock hour when he knew Raina would be putting on her coat and scarf to leave. At five minutes until, he slammed shut his book and bolted downstairs.

  “…and where are ye goin’?” asked his aunt from where she stood at the bottom of the stairs.

  “I’m comin’ down to walk Raina half the way, like always.”

  “Just make sure that’s all ye’re doin’, Owen. I won’t have her packed up and shipped back to Germany.”

  Kathryn pointed her nose up the stairs with a, “hmph!” and the rest of her followed suit. Owen stood stunned, shaking his head with a scowl, and then rushed into the kitchen. Raina was dressed and ready to leave.

  “Let me grab me coat and I’ll be ready.” Owen smiled.

  “Goodnight, Mrs. Vhelan. Danke,” Raina said, reaching for the doorknob.

  “I’ll get that,” Owen raced for the door with one arm still wiggling its way into his coat. He opened the door and looked over at Rachel with a grin and a shoulder shrug, then closed the door behind them.

  “Aren’t ye goin’ to take my arm?” he asked Raina.

  “Poke it out and I vill take it.”

  “Yer ways are a lot different. At least I think I know what danke means now.”

  “Vays? Vat are zese vays you speak of? I hafe vays and you speak zinks I do not underschtand,” Raina remarked, waving her hand back and forth.

  “What did ye and my Ma talk about?”

  “She vants me vork for her Sunday. She vants to take a valk and shop. She vants me to come, too.”

  “Oh, well…well that sounds like a good job.”

  “Is zere somesink you vant to say? You are not zee same tonight.”

  “Why are ye walkin’ so fast?”

  “I’m cold.”

  “Let me keep ye warm then.” He took her hand and led her to the same dimly lit breezeway as the night before.

  “You varm yourself vis me,” she said and resisted.

  “I want a moment alone with ye. Why is that so much ta’ ask?”

  “You are vonderful boy, O'en. You make me feel happy and pretty but you do not underschtand…”

  For the second night in a row, Owen popped into her path but tonight, he allowed his desire to lead him into a perfectly placed, expertly executed kiss of silence. Raina’s resistance of his passion was futile and she fell into it with equal longing. Her words had proven yet again to be easily silenced and her arms flew about his neck, pulling him to her until she tipped backwards, falling into the side of the vacant house in the dark. Owen pressed against her again as she backed up, pulling him closer to her. She was flattened head to foot between him and the house, holding the collar of his coat tightly and pressing her mouth up to his and he pushed back.

  There was nothing between them but their frozen breath and their equal need of each other to thaw it. The dangerous allure of each other’s unknown fascinations held them in its grasp and wouldn’t let go.

  Owen stopped, pulling away enough to gaze at her closed eyes and lovely face in the shadows but instead of returning to her lips, his mouth foolishly turned to words. “Am I yer first kiss?”

  Raina’s eyes rolled open and stared up into the frigid night sky. She released his collar, brushing it back into place and pushed her cold hands into her pockets as far as they could go.

  “No, you are not,” she replied, looking from left to right but not at him.

  “Ye had me first kiss,” he spoke, taking her by the chin, to which she responded by pulling her face away.

  “Why did ye do that?” he asked, his face cringing in confusion. “I only wondered…”

  “Vy did you ask such a queschtion? Does zat make me bad? Does it make my kiss no good to you?” Raina’s tone was angry and hurt at the same time.

  “No. Vernon said…”

  “Vernon? Who is Vernon? Vere is he?” she questioned him, glancing left and right. “Is he here now? Is he in your pocket, tellink you zinks?” She tugged at the pockets of his coat and peered inside. Then she walked away. She was almost running.

  “Raina, wait!”

  “Be quiet. You vould hafe me sent avay? I knew zis vas not good. Vy I not lischten to myself? You make memories rise from death and act ze victim,” she whispered through her teeth, waving him off.

  Owen reached out and caught her by the sleeve, spinning her around, and wrapped her up into his arms again. “I don’t care. Did I say it mattered ta’ me at all?”

  “Schtop it. Please let me go,” Raina begged but he refused.

  “I think I love you, Raina.”

  She stopped struggling against him and laid her head on his shoulder. Her body shook against him, revealing her sobs. He reached around and felt her hair. Her scarf had fallen back in her struggle to get away. He stroked it with his hand and then pulled the thick material back up over her head.

  “Ye should go now before ye get in hot water,” he whispered, releasing her.

  “Again vis ze vords I do not underschtand.” Sh
e sniffled.

  “Understand, I have deep feelin’s for ye. Understand I’m not playin’ ye fer a fool and I don’t care what Vernon or anyone else says.”

  Raina backed away from him again. “I vill not gife you false hope of love, O’en Vhelan. I can give only…only vat I have.”

  “What is that, Raina? Why are ye so upset?” Owen pleaded with her. He followed her to and fro as she paced. This was no longer about a simple kiss.

  “I have only my kisses…and my soul…but…my heart…” she sobbed, trying to catch her breath, holding her stomach and bending over as her words poured forth over her tears.

  “What of yer heart, Raina? What? Ye sayin’ ye don’t have one? Of course ye do!” He grabbed her arm one last time but she pulled free of him to run the rest of the way and then came to an abrupt halt, turning back to look at him.

  “I gafe it avay on my vedding day…a year ago…and I can’t get it back. I don’t vant it back,” she howled. Her tears glistened in pools beneath her eyes.

  “Wait! What? What did ye just say?” Owen cried, rushing to her and grabbing her by the shoulders. She swatted and pulled away from him, running into the darkness before emerging under the street lamp for only a moment before finally evaporating into the house.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Ma? Are ye awake?”

  A few seconds later, the door pulled open and Rachel invited him in. He was still wearing his overcoat and carried his hat in his hands. He lumbered to his spot on the side of the bed and it seemed like forever before he was fully seated and at rest.

  Rachel laid her book down on the night table and sat next to him, draped her arm over his shoulder and waited patiently for him to speak. She dared not ask him anything but rather waited, for she knew once his thoughts were rounded up, he’d say what he came to say or ask what he needed to ask. Within moments, she heard his sniffles and knew it wasn’t due to the transition from the freezing cold to the comfort and warmth of her room.

  “Owen…”

  “Ma, just give me a minute.”