Far Away Home by Susan Denning Page B

a guardian, did you? You should have given me money. Where is the
money? How am I to live?”
    Aislynn emptied
the drawer and found some of Katherine’s delicate clothing wrapped in tissue
paper at the bottom. Her heart swelled when she remembered her parents’ love.
For a moment, she felt happy they were together. However, in seconds, she
returned to her immediate concern. She began to quest the bedroom: dismantling
the dresser, wiggling under the beds, shaking out boxes where she stored
linens, and overturning the mattresses. Her search widened to the kitchen:
rummaging through the cabinet, checking under the sink, and peeking behind the
stove. In the parlor, she shook out every book, removed every cushion, and dug
into her sewing box, yet nothing appeared.
    Night had fallen
when Sean and Papa Nolan walked into the Denehy parlor to find it ransacked.
When Aislynn explained the circumstances surrounding the disruption, the men
exchanged glances and agreed to help her pull up the rug and turn over the
couch. Their efforts were no more fruitful than Aislynn’s.
    Aislynn allowed
them to straighten the rooms as she went into the kitchen to start dinner. She
worked silently, her mind spinning over her problems. She needed sixty-four
dollars for the funeral debt, but she only had eighteen. Once she paid the
bill, she had to make a living, but she did not know how. Tears spilled over as
fast as she could brush them away with the back of her hand.
    Brian and
Michael returned home, and they all sat down to a hasty meal of fried eggs and
ham with apple fritters. While the men ate quietly, Aislynn moved food around
her plate. Michael broke the silence, “Why don’t you just marry Johnny?”
    Sean’s head
jerked up, “She doesn’t want to get married. She’s only seventeen, for Christ’s
sakes. And besides, when she does marry Johnny, who is goin’ to take care of
us?”
    Aislynn shook
her head and announced, “I have to get a job.”
    “You have a
job,” Sean said shortly, flashing an angry look at Aislynn, “You don’t need
another.”
    “One dollar a
week won’t pay for an apartment and food, not to mention shoes and clothes.
And, good heavens, where am I to get sixty-four dollars?” She shook her head,
“No, I’ve got to find work.”
    “I’m talkin’
about your job here. We’ll not have you goin’ into some strange man’s home and
doin’ for him.” Sean nodded to his father.
    Papa Nolan
interjected, “Aislynn, your job is takin’ care of us. You’ve been doin’ the
woman’s work since my Mary,.. since you were a wee one. ‘Tis time we started to
pay you back. Now, you may not like the idea, but you must live with us. We
can’t go payin’ for two apartments, you know. But, we can be comfortable
together in one. And we will all give you fifty cents a month for your spendin’
money. We could all skip a few pints,” he glared at Michael who was leaning
back in his chair and pouting, “and give you the money for all you do for us.
Now that’s the way I see it.” He paused and looked around the table for nods of
agreement. “What do you say?”
    Aislynn looked
down at the table biting her lip. Slowly, she rose and threw her arms around
Papa Nolan, burying her face in his neck. She squeezed hard, trying to contain
her tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.
    “You’re our
girl. You belong with us.” Papa Nolan patted her on the back.
    Aislynn went
around the table and hugged each one of them. Michael burned red, Brian laughed
timidly and Sean welcomed her with his arms wide. He pulled her down on his
knee and asked, “Would you rather we all moved in here? This flat is sunny, and
the bedroom is already partitioned.” Aislynn nodded and hugged him a second
time.
    At Sunday mass,
Aislynn sat in the Nolan pew between Papa Nolan and Sean. When she and the
Nolans emerged through the front entrance, Johnny, his mother and sister joined
them on the front steps. Fellow parishioners approached Aislynn