Jubilee's Journey (Wyattsville #2)(82)
A sparkling glimmer suddenly appeared in Carmella’s eyes. “Oh, we’d be thrilled to help. We won’t just contribute. We can serve on the decorating committee, provide food, and, of course, attend the ball.”
Sidney, who was none too fond of lace-napkin teas or dances, glanced over. “What if I’m not up to dancing yet?”
“Don’t worry,” Carmella assured him. “You will be.”
By the time Olivia and the kids left to pick up Paul at the Wyattsville station house, Carmella could see herself becoming Olivia’s best friend and Sidney a benefactor to the children.
She sat beside Sidney and smiled. It was apparent that the Lord had not only forgiven her but also shown her how she was to atone for such rash judgment.
The Homecoming
It was ten-thirty when Olivia walked out of the Wyattsville station house with all three children. Paul was taller than she’d expected and, compared to Jubilee or Ethan Allen, a lot quieter. Jubilee had climbed atop Paul’s shoulders and sat there so comfortably, so snuggled close, it made Olivia think the girl had done this same thing for much of her short life. Even with the added weight on his shoulders Paul stood tall and straight. As he walked side by side with Ethan Allen, the two boys talked.
Olivia slowed her step so she could watch the trio. They walked as a family, close together, words passing from one to the other. At first it seemed as though an aura surrounded them, but when Olivia looked more closely she could see it was more than an aura. It was a love so palpable it generated the feeling of warmth, of contentment, of quiet family nights and wordless devotion.
They crossed the parking lot and climbed into the car, Paul and Jubilee in the back seat, Ethan Allen up front next to Olivia. For a short while Jubilee talked about the things she’d done and the people she’d met, but before they crossed Monroe Street her words slowed and her head dropped sleepily onto Paul’s chest. He lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. Without opening her eyes, she snuggled into him the way one might bury their head in a feather pillow.
Olivia watched in the rearview mirror and felt a stirring in her heart.
The arrival of Ethan Allen had changed her life. He had awakened in her a love greater than any she’d ever known, but with that love had come responsibilities, worry, and, at times, even fear. Everything had a price. The price of not loving was an empty and cold existence. It meant a lifetime of wordless evenings and nights where the chill of loneliness rattled through your bones. The price of loving was beyond measure. Olivia thought back on the night she lost Charlie, a night so horrible she could not even find a comparison. She wanted to tell herself that going forward no heartache could ever be as great as that one, but she knew better.
Ethan Allen was young, Jubilee even younger. If disaster befell one of them it, Olivia knew it would shatter her heart. Worrying over, caring for, and protecting one child was difficult enough; could she possibly do it for three? Stretched out in front of her, it seemed a Herculean task, a job too big for even the mightiest, and yet it was slowly settling into her mind.
She’d given thought to letting the boy go his own way. He seemed big, strong, and capable of taking care of himself. But that was outside. Inside he was simply a boy, a sixteen-year-old teenager. Too young to know the hardships life could thrust upon his shoulders. Perhaps if he had been surly or outspoken she may have found justification for not caring.
But he was none of those things. He was soft-spoken, gentle, and genuinely likeable. Jubilee obviously adored him, and Ethan Allen was giving him the type of admiration usually reserved for baseball players.
While Olivia would have welcomed the alternative, the truth was that watching them together was like seeing the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle slide into place. It completed the picture. She knew that whatever hardships lay in front of her, she could never separate the children.
When they arrived back at the Wyattsville Arms, Paul lifted his sister and carried her to the apartment. After Olivia turned back the covers, he gently laid her in the bed. She rustled around a bit but never woke.
Even though the hour was late, Olivia sat the boys at the kitchen table and served up tall glasses of milk and a plate piled high with the cookies she’d baked earlier. After Paul had eaten his fifth cookie, he lowered his eyes and said, “Hope you don’t mind me eatin’ up all these cookies—”
Before he finished, Olivia said, “Not at all, Paul, go right ahead. There’s plenty more where those came from.”
“I know it ain’t none too polite to make a pig of myself but, Missus Doyle, these is the best cookies I ever tasted.”
“Well, then,” Olivia said with a smile, “I’ll have to get busy and make another tray of them.” She poured each of the boys a second glass of milk, then turned to the sink and began washing the cookie tray she’d left earlier. Although her back was to the boys, she listened to their conversation.
“How come you call Grandma ‘Missus Doyle’?” Ethan Allen asked.
Paul awkwardly stumbled over his answer. “I been taught using a body’s proper name shows respect.”
“Yeah, but Grandma’s family. You ain’t supposed to call family same as other folks.”
After more than a year of correcting Ethan’s grammar, Olivia did it without thinking. “You’re not supposed to call family.”