In Name Only (28 page)

He nodded and
followed the priest.

*  *  *

The sun was
rising as David rode the carriage home.  The pink clouds were nestled in a red
and orange sky and for the first time, David began to appreciate it as the
beauty of God’s creation.

He felt tired and
had a headache from drinking, but that didn’t matter.  Although Father Flaherty
had invited him to remain at the church to sleep, he and the priest began to
talk further.  David could scarcely believe it when Father told him that it had
been five hours since his arrival at the church and it would soon be time for
the priest to prepare for morning Mass.

David decided not
to remain for the Mass since he felt like an outsider, although he did accept
the priest’s gifts of a small De Harbe’s Catechism and another book called
“Confessions” by a man called Augustine.

David cringed
when he recalled that he had shared with the Catholic priest that he could not
stop bedding women.  Yet, the priest had patiently listened, apparently without
judgment.  Then he had opened the catechism and had recommended that whenever
David felt a sexual urge or temptation, as his new catechism stated, “To
earnestly resist it and implore the assistance of God, to not be discouraged,
but to persevere in resistance and endeavor to occupy your mind with some good
subject.”

He quietly
unhitched Big Red from the carriage and made his way through the front door,
then up the staircase.

His bedroom
seemed different.  David wasn’t sure how or why, but he was overwhelmed with a
need to do the right thing.

He placed the two
books on his desk, then reconsidered and wondered whether he ought to keep them
hidden for now.  He opened the bottom drawer and discovered his collection of
French postcards brought back from Paris by his father as an 18th birthday
gift. The urge rose in him again and, despite his fatigue, despite the peace he
savored all evening, a compulsion to view the obscene images began to surface.

Please, God,
help me to resist
.  He took a deep breath and shut the drawer. He glanced
at the two books again on his desk and decided to move them to his bedside table. 
He picked up the book called “Confessions.”  The catechism had said, “Endeavor
to occupy your mind with some good subject.” This book seemed as good a subject
as any.

Chapter 28

Caroline opened
Liam’s bedroom door and stood in the doorway. Immediately, it occurred to her
that she spent more time here than any other room in the house, save for her
own.

Like the clock
above his bed, which had been stopped at the time of her husband’s death two
months ago, it seemed like her life had ceased to exist. Outside, grass grew
slowly and silently and nests filled the once empty trees.

She picked up
their framed wedding photograph now displayed on his bedside table. She touched
the picture, outlining his body, handsome in its wedding day finery, his eyes
bright with happiness, a slight smile on his lips.  Caroline was ecstatic that
day, although one would never guess that from the stoic expression she wore in
this photograph.

While Caroline
found this new invention of capturing a person’s image on paper fascinating,
there were so many things which couldn’t be revealed in this picture.  It
didn’t, couldn’t, describe how he expertly, passionately played the violin, or
how he laughed in a high-pitched manner, how he ate his meal in the same
fashion each time: meat, potatoes, then vegetables. The photograph didn’t show
the small mole on his stomach or the faint scars on his chest which, he said,
were from a fall out of a tree as a child.

Her memories of
him couldn’t be contained in this photograph, although this was the only
picture of them together.  It couldn’t describe how, when they hugged, her head
fit perfectly below his chin.  This picture couldn’t sufficiently reveal the
love they shared, nor could it describe their intimate moments.  And as awkward
as that aspect of their married life had been, she would never want to give up
any of it because they had shared it together.

Her husband was
dead.  It took days, weeks to be able to even think it.  With it came the
realization that Caroline’s love for him would never be  gone and would remain
nestled and protected within her, despite Liam’s death, despite this farce of a
marriage.

Caroline sighed
and returned the frame to the small table.

She took a deep
breath and let it out slowly.  Some days, it was necessary to make a conscious
effort to breathe.  After her father died, it was difficult but she had been
preparing herself for that eventuality over four years.  Liam’s death was so
sudden; it seemed as if her body, large with child, was incapable of handling
that shock. In the two months since her husband’s death, life became a monotony
of sleeping and eating.  She hadn’t picked up a book to read in all that time.

And to be married
to David was her worst nightmare come true.  It didn’t matter that his behavior
was recently more polite.  He was still David. Was she supposed to be
overjoyed?

Caroline now sat
on Liam’s bed and studied his room: every book in place, each piece of
furniture precisely in the same spot as he last left it.  His papers were
neatly stacked on the desk.  Ordered.  Just the way Liam liked it.  Caroline
felt no urgency to rummage through his desk or to search his drawers. Anything
she found would never be enough to erase the feeling of emptiness she now
embraced.

Everything was
tidy, except for the clothes on the floor of the closet.  Immediately, she
pulled one of his shirts from the pile of worn ones which, two months previous,
had been ready to be laundered.  She lifted it to her face and breathed in his
now fading scent.  For the moment, she was thoroughly engrossed in the memory
of his presence, but what she truly longed for was his soft voice.

If only he had
listened to her and not gone to Boston.  If only he had not been robbed.  If
only David had. . .David.  Caroline exhaled another long, slow breath.

The sounds of
someone clearing his throat made her gasp.  She turned around. Her
brother-in-law stood in the doorway, his eyes making brief contact with her
own, then he directed his gaze toward the floor.

“I’m sorry.  I
didn’t mean to intrude.  I needed to speak with you about. . .”  He stopped
when he noticed that she was holding Liam’s wrinkled and once worn shirt.
“Caroline?”

“Yes?”

“I intend to have
the servants begin clearing out his room.”

“No!” she
shouted, her eyes wide. 

“Please.  It’s
only been two months.”

“Yes, two
months.  And you’ll be delivering soon.  Jane and Kip will be making this into
a nursery.”

“No, there will
be no nursery in here, David.  I want the crib in my bedroom across the hall.”

“You must. . .”

Caroline stared
at Liam’s open closet, his shoes on the floor, caked with mud, taking her back
to that day when she first saw his unconscious form being brought into this
room.

“Leave me alone,
David.” All of a sudden, a gush of fluid came from her, splashing to the
hardwood floors below.  She gasped.

“Caroline!”

“I think. . .the
baby will be here soon.  Please tell Kip to get Patsie next door.”

He rushed to her
side.  “Allow me to assist you to your room.” As he held on to her shoulder,
she pulled away from him.  “Stop.  I wish to give birth to his child in his
bed, not in mine.”

David stepped
back, then nodded. “Very well.”  He walked her to Liam’s bed. 

“I need to get
prepared.”

“Yes, of course. 
I’ll send Jane up to you immediately, then I’ll have Kip get Patsie next door.”

When he left,
Caroline pulled her dress and crinoline off, then began to wipe up the mess on
the floor. Soon Jane arrived in the room. “Miss Caroline, I’ll get that mess
for you.  You need to get in your bed.”

“I’ll do the
birthing here in his bed.”

“But. . .”

“No, Jane.  This
is where I am giving birth to my child.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Make certain
that David gets the midwife too. There’s no rush.  It will probably be some
time before the baby is born.”

Jane nodded and assisted
her mistress into Liam’s bed.

Now Caroline felt
safe and prepared to give birth to their child.  When Liam had first died, she
couldn’t think of sleeping in his bed without him, but over the past several
weeks, frequently at night, Caroline had crawled into his bed to obtain much
needed sleep.  It provided comfort to be lying in the place that had held
Liam’s body as he slept for many years.  These days, it was the only way that
she could slip into any kind of slumber.

Later that night,
she pushed with the next contraction, intense but necessary pain which welled
from deep within her and forced itself downward. 

“Come along then,
Miss Caroline, yer babe’s jest ‘bout here.  Now then, can ye be givin’ us
‘nother push?”

Several more
pushes followed, one contraction following another, no time for breathing, no
time for thinking, just pushing.

“Sure an’ the
babe’s nearly here, me lamb.  I’m jest seein’ the wee head.”

Caroline opened
her mouth to breathe in, but her body took over and she was pushing once
again.  A loud moan escaped from her lips.  Someone patted her forehead and she
instinctively turned her head away. 
Must push
.  Another contraction. 
She tried to push, but every ounce of her energy seemed to have disappeared.

“I can’t. . .do
this any. . .”

“Sure ye can,
Miss Caroline.  Ye be doin’ jest foin. It’s almost here. The babe’s near out.
Jest be givin’ us one more push then.”

She concentrated
again, gritting her teeth and gripping the linen sheets.  Caroline felt the
child slide from her and she let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Tis a wee
colleen, Miss Caroline.  Ye’ve got a lovely daughter, ye do.  We’re jest be
cleanin’ ‘er up then.”

As the baby
wailed, Caroline laid her wet head back on the pillow and took a deep breath
despite her exhaustion.

“Ah, look at her
light hair.  Just like Mr. Liam.  She’s a beauty,” Jane commented, as Patsie
was cleaning her.

“She’ll be after
havin’ a good set of lungs, that she do.”

Soft knocking on
the door almost went unnoticed.

“Patsie, how’s Caroline
doing?” David asked through the closed door.

“Sure an’ she’s
foin, Mr. David, sir.  We’re jest after cleanin’ her an’ the babe up a bit, ye
can be comin’ in soon.”

“Very well,” he
said.

“Here ye be, Miss
Caroline.” Patsie placed the baby girl in Caroline’s arms.

“Jane and me,
we’ll be cleanin’ ye all up,  get ye all presentable like for visitors, though
ye really should be restin’ now.  Ye  sure’ll be needin’ some sleep.”

Caroline nodded. 
Her baby had stopped crying and was quietly cooing in her arms.

“Are ye certain
ye’re not be wantin’ a wet nurse?”

“Yes, Patsie. 
There’s no reason I can’t feed my own daughter.  That’s what these are for,
aren’t they?”

“Well, sure an’ I
know that’s what the good Lord made ‘em for.”

“I don’t care if
most upper class women employ wet nurses.  I wish to feed my child.  She’s all
I have in the world and I’m going to give her everything of myself that I can.”

“If ye be sure
then.”

“I wish to feed
her now, Patsie.”

“Well, sure an’
this is a good time, before Mr. David’ll be wantin’ ta be comin’ in, even
though the wee colleen’s not askin’ after it.”

She nodded and
unbuttoned the top of her gown and offered her child the breast. The baby
eagerly latched on and Caroline tenderly watched as her daughter suckled.

Since her husband
had died, Caroline could feel nothing but despair.  But now as she gazed down
into the face of her child, for the first time in two months, she saw hope. Their
love, hers and Liam’s, was no longer only nestled in her heart, it was now safely
in her arms.

As her daughter
nursed, she picked up one of her tiny hands and marveled at the miracle of new
life.  These small hands would someday clap and wave, hold a doll, push down on
a top, play the violin or piano.

Her baby began
closing her small eyes.  “You’ve been through quite an exhausting experience
too, Sweet,” she whispered out loud as the infant fell into a deep slumber. 
Caroline’s own eyes began to close.  Jane’s voice whispered, “I’ll take the
baby and put her in the cradle beside the bed.”

Caroline nodded.

“Maybe ye can be
after lettin’ Mr. David have a wee glimpse of the babe before ye be takin a
hard-earned rest,” Patsie said loudly.

“I suppose,”
Caroline answered.

“Yer flow’s
lookin’ good.  I’m thinkin’ ‘tis mighty glad I am, that we’re knowin’ what
we’re about, eh, Jane?  The midwife must be tendin’ t’another birth.”