As Bright as Heaven(82)

And now we are out in the cool night air and the stars are twinkling and the noise and lights of the city surround us softly. My arm is on his, and his gloved hand rests atop mine.

“Thank you for dinner,” I say, inviting him, I hope, to be frank with me.

“You are very welcome.”

We take three steps in silence.

“I have some news, Maggie,” he says.

I’m not surprised by his words, but I am surprised to realize that despite expecting him to have some news, I’m not ready to hear what he will say. It can’t be good and I suddenly want to be home. I want to be with Alex and Papa and my sisters.

“Oh?” The tremble in my voice betrays my anxiousness.

He turns to me and stops. We are under a streetlamp and it bathes us in creamy light. Palmer smiles, as if he’s heartened that I’m anxious. “It’s not bad news.”

My stomach does a somersault nonetheless. “Does that mean it’s good news?”

“I very much hope so.”

I can only wait for him to continue.

“I’ve been offered a position in New York. For the borough of Manhattan. It’s a very good job, Maggie. Twice the pay that I’m getting now.”

“New York?”

“Yes.”

“New York.” How can that be good news? I want to ask. I want to yell it. His moving a hundred miles away is not good news. Our courtship has been going well. Papa likes Palmer. Alex adores Palmer. Palmer’s the first man I’ve ever been seriously interested in. This is not good news.

He takes my other hand now and draws me close. “I’ve grown very fond of you, Maggie. So very fond.”

My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. My mind is spinning. Does this mean he will write so that we can try courting long distance? Or is he saying he’s very fond of me but the job is too good to pass up and he must choose it over me?

“Do you hear what I’m saying?” Palmer tips his head to make eye contact with me. “I’m saying I’m in love with you. I want you to come with me. As my wife.”

A buzzing in my ears commences, and for a second I can hear nothing but the sound of a thousand bees in my head. And then I hear this: I’m in love with you. I want you to come with me. These two thoughts muffle the imagined sound of whirring wings. I am loved by a man who wants me.

“Maggie, I’m asking you to marry me.”

My voice is shuttered and I cannot push out any words. I’m speechless at the idea that all my life has been a journey to this moment when I make a decision that will change the course of my existence. Just like Papa and Mama did all those years ago in the curing barn when they chose to leave Quakertown and come here. Just like that day all of Philadelphia decided to go to a parade and the flu came down on top of all of us. Just like when Mama wanted me to show her where I found Alex and I decided not to tell her. And when I think of this, I realize I’ve not yet had that needed conversation with Palmer. I had thought it was too soon. The name comes out in a whisper.

“Alex,” I murmur.

Palmer blinks. “Alex?”

“I can’t leave Alex.” The second I say this, I know in my core it is true. Alex is my one hold on anything truly wonderful in this world. How could I walk away from him?

Palmer closes his eyes for a second, and when he opens them, he breaks into a wide smile of relief. “Is that all that keeps you from saying you’ll marry me? My darling, you needn’t leave Alex. We can raise him together. You and I. Alongside our own children. He can come with us.”

“He can?” But even as the words leave my mouth, I am overcome with how much Papa and my sisters would miss Alex if I were to do such a thing. In all my imaginings of a life with Palmer Towlerton, I never pictured us living anywhere but right here in Philadelphia. I even thought we might stay at Uncle Fred’s spacious house, with Palmer and me sharing Mama and Papa’s old room on the second floor and Alex keeping his room right across the hall. I wouldn’t have had to take Alex away from anything or anyone then.

“Of course!” Palmer says. “Alex will love Manhattan. As will you.”

The bees are returning to their strumming in my head. I need to think. I need to go home.

I look up at Palmer and he cups my face with one hand. “May I speak to your father, Maggie? Please say I may.”

For a moment I wonder if it is possible to just run away instead. I imagine grabbing Palmer’s hand and running with him headlong into the great unknown, like Jamie did. I imagine flying away from everything and everyone and beginning life anew, as though I’d never grieved a dead brother and dead mother, never taken a child from his home and kept him, never loved a man who had no need for me, never sung songs to cadavers as I combed their hair.

“Please?” Palmer says.

I hover a second between running away and running home, but then all that I am and have been pulls me back.

“Palmer?” I whisper, and I cover his hand on my cheek.

“Yes, my darling?”

“I need to think about what this will do to my family. Leaving and taking Alex. I need to think. It is no easy thing.”

“But . . . do you love me as I love you, Maggie? Can you not answer me that?”

His gaze is hard on mine. There is love there in his eyes, but also determination.