The Game of Love and Death(64)

“Personal business,” James said. “Sounds intriguing.”

“I’m sorry, James. You’ve been such a help lately, but I really can’t stay. And this isn’t the sort of business that requires company.”

He was surprised at the look on James’s face. Rather than looking disappointed, he looked relieved. Maybe even happy.

“I wish you luck with it,” he said. “Truly.”

And Henry found that he believed him, even as he wished James would leave him be.





FLORA had to stop thinking of Henry. They both needed to rebuild their lives with as few scars as possible in the aftermath of the recent disasters. She’d kept busy planning Nana’s memorial service, which would happen the next afternoon. And she’d received a note from Doc Henderson, inviting her to meet with him about picking up a performance or two at the Majestic. She was glad to have something to focus on besides the misery of losing her grandmother and her club and the uselessness of wondering where Henry was, what he was doing, how he was feeling.

“I love you,” she said, just to see how the words she’d never give him felt in her mouth.

As she picked up a broom and started sweeping the kitchen, there was a knock on the door. Annoyed, she opened it, expecting some well-meaning person to be bringing her a casserole. She already had many more than she’d ever be able to eat. But it wasn’t anyone bearing food. It was Henry.

Despite her desire to see him, she panicked at his actual presence. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t have come.”

He stepped back. The sun was setting and silhouetted his face, but she could see how hurt he was, even through the shadow.

“That’s not how I meant it to sound.” She touched his forearm.

He swallowed. “I heard about the club. I — I wanted to say I was sorry.”

“Well.” She exhaled and looked past his shoulder, welcoming the sting of the sun on her eyes. Henry moved closer, and she could see the exhaustion on his face, and she was torn between inviting him inside for a glass of water and sending him home so she wouldn’t say anything that would cause more hurt or trouble. She heard her grandmother’s voice in her head. Manners, Flora! Invite the boy inside!

“Are you thirsty?” she asked.

“Like a camel,” Henry said.

She led him to a chair by the window. Then she went to the kitchen, wishing she had something better than water to serve. She filled a glass.

“Are you hungry?” Food, she had.

“Like a camel that hasn’t eaten anything in days.”

“Ham or casserole?”

“No self-respecting camel eats casserole. It could contain a relative.”

Laughing, Flora made a ham and cheese sandwich and set it on a tray next to the glass of water. These, she put on a side table next to his chair. He reached for the glass with ink-stained fingertips.

“You look like you lost a fight with a fountain pen.”

“The pen is mightier than the sword.” Henry picked up his sandwich. “It’s a wonder I survived.” He took a bite, chewed, swallowed. “Truly, though, it’s a long story.”

“I have time,” she said, sinking into a nearby ottoman. She looked up at him, feeling finally at ease. “Tell me.”

He did between bites, although she suspected he made Hooverville sound like a nicer place to live than it was.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “This is my fault.”

Henry moved off the chair and sat on the floor next to her, taking her hand in his. “Shh,” he said. He touched her cheek with an inky finger. Her heart drumrolled in her chest.

“Henry, we shouldn’t do this. There’s no future with you and me in it.”

“Shouldn’t isn’t the same as can’t,” he said. “Besides, there’s no future for me without you in it.”

“You’re white,” she said. “In case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I can’t help that. I’d change it if I could, but I can’t. This is it.”

“You come from money,” she said.

“Not anymore. Not for a long time. I never belonged with the Thornes. But I belong with you.”

“It’s my fault you went to jail.”

“It wasn’t, and I’ve forgotten that already.” He kissed the back of her hand and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I love you. We are meant to be a pair. It’s that simple.”

The words and the weight behind them weren’t simple. She knew he meant them. But their lives were not their own, not when it came to this. There were too many other people, with too many other thoughts on the matter. There was also the truth of love, that its end was nothing but pain.

“The world is against this sort of thing. Surely you can feel it,” she said.

“If it’s us versus the world, my money’s on us.”

She moved away from Henry, to lighten the mood. “Easy for you to say. Last I heard, you had twelve cents. You’re ridiculous. You know that, right?”


“When it comes to being ridiculous, I am very ambitious.”

Amused, she let herself rest her cheek against his chest, listening to his heart, inhaling his scent before she sat up with a start. “Henry?”