Avenue N, passed Ursuline and the Garten Verein, then headed up Thirty-fifth Street. I saw Andy and Will playing on the veranda at Uncle Nate’s. I waved, then glanced down the side of the house to the alley, curious to see if Josiah had made it home. He’d stirred something uneasy in me, leaving quick the way he had. I caught a glimpse of him helping Ezra in the garden as we passed by. He’d walked straight home after all. Just not with us.
I said good-bye to Ella Rose at the foot of her stairs, but she insisted that I come up to meet her father. My stomach rolled like one of those giant swells rushing toward the beach. I glanced at my dirty fingernails and scuffed shoes and shook my head. “Another time, maybe, when I haven’t been working.”
She laughed. “You don’t know Daddy. He’d much rather see you grimy from working hard than all spiffy and clean.”
I pulled in a deep breath, smoothed my windblown hair, and followed her up the stairs.
She took her books from me, set them on a side tablein the foyer, and dragged me into the parlor. I tossed a quick glance at the piano in the corner, the artwork on the walls, and the family portrait of Ella Rose and her parents sitting on the mantel in a gilded frame.
“Daddy?”
Mr. Covington looked up from his newspaper.
“I’d like you to meet Seth Braeden. He’s new to Galveston and already has a fine job working for Mr. Farrell. You remember Mr. Farrell, don’t you, Daddy? Henry works for him, too.”
Mr. Covington nodded. “So you’re a builder, are you, Seth?”
“Yessir,” I said, rubbing my sweaty palm against my pants. “At least I’d like to be.” I held out my hand, hoping like everything that it was clean enough to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” His warm grasp eased my mind somewhat.
Ella Rose gave her father a shiny smile. “I stopped by to see if Henry and the others knew about the storm warning, and Seth was kind enough to see me home.”
“Ah, yes. Isaac Cline raised the flag above the Levy Building this morning.” He shook his head. “But you know how those weathermen are. Always making a big to-do over every little blow.”
I nodded, the last of my concern about the storm finally gone. Even Mr. Covington wasn’t worried.
For the next few minutes, he asked the kind ofquestions I suppose all newcomers are asked, and I answered the best I could, acutely aware that his impression of me would determine whether I saw his daughter again or not. When we finally said our good-byes, I blew out a relieved breath and headed home. With a storm coming, I might not see Ella Rose again till next weekend. But if her father didn’t like me, I might not see her ever again.
When I got home, it appeared that the Vedder children had become the envy of the neighborhood. Their daddy’s ragged hearse bumped along behind old gray Whiskers, and a solemn procession of mourners followed, heads bent, hands full of jasmine and oleander blossoms.
I laughed. “Hey, who died?”
Up popped Kate, grinning from behind the hearse’s ragged velvet drapery and waving a bunch of jasmine vines at me. “Look at me, Seth!”
I waved back and headed for the stairs. Matt sat sulking on the bottom step beside Lucas, his baseball in his lap.
“They’re playing funeral,” Lucas grumbled.
Matt huffed his irritation. “Ain’t that just about the dumbest thing you ever saw?”
I looked again. They’d pulled Kate from the hearse and laid her in the grass. She lay deathly still while they covered her with flowers.
Something cold and sick squirmed inside me, and I found myself wanting to chase the brats home, grab Kate up, and bring her into the house with me. But I turned my back on the scene instead, and squeezed around Matt and Lucas. “Yeah, pretty dumb, all right,” I muttered, and headed upstairs to find my cold supper.
That night I pulled Ella Rose’s handkerchief from my pocket. The scent of lilac water still clung to it, making me
I said good-bye to Ella Rose at the foot of her stairs, but she insisted that I come up to meet her father. My stomach rolled like one of those giant swells rushing toward the beach. I glanced at my dirty fingernails and scuffed shoes and shook my head. “Another time, maybe, when I haven’t been working.”
She laughed. “You don’t know Daddy. He’d much rather see you grimy from working hard than all spiffy and clean.”
I pulled in a deep breath, smoothed my windblown hair, and followed her up the stairs.
She took her books from me, set them on a side tablein the foyer, and dragged me into the parlor. I tossed a quick glance at the piano in the corner, the artwork on the walls, and the family portrait of Ella Rose and her parents sitting on the mantel in a gilded frame.
“Daddy?”
Mr. Covington looked up from his newspaper.
“I’d like you to meet Seth Braeden. He’s new to Galveston and already has a fine job working for Mr. Farrell. You remember Mr. Farrell, don’t you, Daddy? Henry works for him, too.”
Mr. Covington nodded. “So you’re a builder, are you, Seth?”
“Yessir,” I said, rubbing my sweaty palm against my pants. “At least I’d like to be.” I held out my hand, hoping like everything that it was clean enough to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” His warm grasp eased my mind somewhat.
Ella Rose gave her father a shiny smile. “I stopped by to see if Henry and the others knew about the storm warning, and Seth was kind enough to see me home.”
“Ah, yes. Isaac Cline raised the flag above the Levy Building this morning.” He shook his head. “But you know how those weathermen are. Always making a big to-do over every little blow.”
I nodded, the last of my concern about the storm finally gone. Even Mr. Covington wasn’t worried.
For the next few minutes, he asked the kind ofquestions I suppose all newcomers are asked, and I answered the best I could, acutely aware that his impression of me would determine whether I saw his daughter again or not. When we finally said our good-byes, I blew out a relieved breath and headed home. With a storm coming, I might not see Ella Rose again till next weekend. But if her father didn’t like me, I might not see her ever again.
When I got home, it appeared that the Vedder children had become the envy of the neighborhood. Their daddy’s ragged hearse bumped along behind old gray Whiskers, and a solemn procession of mourners followed, heads bent, hands full of jasmine and oleander blossoms.
I laughed. “Hey, who died?”
Up popped Kate, grinning from behind the hearse’s ragged velvet drapery and waving a bunch of jasmine vines at me. “Look at me, Seth!”
I waved back and headed for the stairs. Matt sat sulking on the bottom step beside Lucas, his baseball in his lap.
“They’re playing funeral,” Lucas grumbled.
Matt huffed his irritation. “Ain’t that just about the dumbest thing you ever saw?”
I looked again. They’d pulled Kate from the hearse and laid her in the grass. She lay deathly still while they covered her with flowers.
Something cold and sick squirmed inside me, and I found myself wanting to chase the brats home, grab Kate up, and bring her into the house with me. But I turned my back on the scene instead, and squeezed around Matt and Lucas. “Yeah, pretty dumb, all right,” I muttered, and headed upstairs to find my cold supper.
That night I pulled Ella Rose’s handkerchief from my pocket. The scent of lilac water still clung to it, making me
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