A passing glance shouldn’t have been enough to recognize her. After all, the only picture Lily had seen of Geraldine was grainy and gray from the press, half of her face obscured.
Lily wondered later what had sparked the revelation. Was it a hunch? Gut instinct, intuition? More likely, it was plain wishful thinking. No doubt, all week, she had been seeking Geraldine’s face among strangers in passing. She was too invested at that point, she supposed, to accept the finality of their findings.
In the end, those findings were wrong. At least those that had been relayed by the sanitarium’s director. There was no greater proof than the reemergence of Geraldine, lured to the Examiner by Lily’s inquiry on Ellis’s behalf. But with Ellis gone to New York, Lily welcomed Geraldine to speak in confidence, yearning to help.
And so, in the privacy of the darkroom—the location a true mark of coming full circle—Lily listened to her story and agreed. Ellis, too, needed to hear it straight from the source.
As Geraldine waited at a nearby diner, Lily juggled her work tasks with desperate attempts to reach Ellis. In the midst of her fourth try, Clayton appeared at her desk, back from lunch—their lunch—and her stomach dropped. She had completely forgotten.
Her face must have conveyed her horror because the apology was just forming on her lips when he leaned toward her and smiled.
“Done it myself. It happens. We’ll blame the chief.” He assumed that pressing duties for her boss had looped her back to the paper. “Anyway, I ran into some pals from the Bulletin, so it worked out fine. We’ll catch dinner soon?”
“My goodness, yes. Thank you for understanding, Clayton.”
After a wink, he went about his job. His sheer kindness over the slipup made her feel even worse.
Only the ringing in her ear reminded her of the receiver in her grip.
Another unanswered call.
Hours later, not giving up, she rang from her boardinghouse. She had brought Geraldine with her, having promised to summon Ellis.
Admittedly, visions of him rolling craps and swigging liquor in some gaming hall had flitted through her mind until at last he answered the phone, his voice stunned but clear.
She gave him few details.
He didn’t need them to decide.
“Tell me where you are,” he said.
- • •
It was a little after eight when the rattling of a car engine again drew Lily toward the foyer. The evening was slipping away.
Geraldine’s bus ride back to the sanitarium, in Bensalem Township, would leave at 9:32. Out of pride, despite the drive taking well over a half hour, she declined to stay until morning. Lily would have pressed the issue if the boardinghouse didn’t frown upon overnight guests. She was already pushing her limits.
The landlady, Miss Westin, had retired upstairs for the evening, same as the only other tenants in the brownstone who hadn’t ventured out to a movie palace or a vaudeville show. Lily had properly alerted Miss Westin that a second friend would be paying a visit—just without specifying gender. The prim British woman would have insisted upon chaperoning.
That certainty now sent Lily racing again to the heavy oak door to prevent a ring of the bell. Beneath a glowing streetlamp, there was Ellis, striding up to the entry. She tempered her volume despite her eagerness. “Come inside,” she said, and closed the door behind them. His concern and confusion, evident in his blue eyes, had surely amassed over the length of the drive.
Aware of the most glaring discrepancy, she didn’t wait for the question. “When I phoned the sanitarium, they did tell me Geraldine had passed.”
“It was a mix-up, then.”
“That’s what I thought too. But she’d simply asked them for privacy when she first arrived there. She was hoping to live out her final days without attention from anyone. Particularly the press.”
He shrugged his brows, acknowledging the sensibility in it. Then those features drew together. “How ill is she now?”
He wanted to be prepared. But it was best to see for himself.
“She’s in the den.”
Ellis removed his hat, gearing up, and Lily led him onward. Dark panels of wood covered the floor and walls, lending the brownstone a gothic feel in the evenings. Tonight even more so, given its widowed guest risen from the grave.
Past the narrow staircase and a small phone table, they entered the den. The scent of lemon polish mingled with that of the aged books that lined two walls of shelves, each stretched to the twelve-foot ceiling. The painting of a cobblestone village flickered above the fireplace.
Geraldine sat upon one of two matching upholstered chairs, staring into the flames. Still in her overcoat, she fingered a button on her long skirt.
“Mrs. Dillard?” Ellis said. When she turned and nodded, he edged forward with eyes narrowed, absorbing the state of her condition. “I didn’t… They said that…”
He faltered for obvious reason. In the amber firelight, aside from her tired eyes and stragglers of her brown hair loosened from her bun, she showed no resemblance to a woman on her deathbed. In fact, given her healthful appearance, any claims of a grave illness seemed part of an elaborate conspiracy.
Lily chimed in to explain. “Her doctor was mistaken. It wasn’t tuberculosis.”
Ellis continued to stare at Geraldine. “When did you find out?”
Geraldine’s hands, weathered but strong, went still as she thought. “Must’ve been a month after leaving for Dearborn.”
“The sanitarium,” Ellis murmured, reconciling the name.
“The director there did some X-rays for me, and some other tests. We call her Doc Summers, even though she ain’t an official doctor. It’s on account of her that my lungs were finally treated for the right infection. Now that I’m well, she’s even let me stay on to give a hand with other patients.”
Lily tried to brighten, an offering of support. “I’m sure they’re grateful to have you.”
Geraldine smiled but with a solemn undercurrent. “It’s been good for me too. Helps to have a purpose, with my husband gone…and now the kids.”
Tough as an ox, her husband wasn’t sick a day in his life, she had told Lily, until he stepped on a rusted nail. He died of lockjaw a week later, leaving a desperate widow to take in sewing and laundry to scrape by with two children.
Lily glanced at Ellis, his face dimming with remorse.
“Why don’t we sit down,” she encouraged him. He gave a half-hearted nod, likely questioning if he was prepared to hear more, but he followed.
As Lily settled into the chair beside Geraldine, Ellis perched on the tufted settee across from them. Hat upon his lap, he ventured, “Miss Palmer said you wanted to speak with me?”
“I do,” Geraldine said, but with a look of warning. “I don’t want none of this in the paper. You hear?”
“Not a chance. You have my word.”
She studied his face. Appearing satisfied, she sat back stiffly and began. “I told that man the kids weren’t for sale. No matter what he saw in that picture. But he persisted all the same. Put fifty whole dollars on my porch…though I barely noticed at the time.” She shook her head—at either the banker’s stubbornness or the fact she had missed such a thing.
“I was having more bad days than good ’round then, and just that morning, I’d coughed enough blood to give me a real scare. I was just so tired all the time, and it was only getting worse. And I thought…maybe this was the Lord’s doin’, sending this person to us right then.” Geraldine’s eyes glimmered with moisture. When she dropped her gaze to her worn black shoes, Lily recognized a fear in her, an expectation of being judged.
“He just had so many reasons,” she went on, “how he and his wife could give the kids a good life. Better than I ever could, sick or not. But they had to stay together—Ruby and Cal. That’s what I told him. I made him swear.”
The room went quiet for a stretch, save for the crackling of firewood. Ellis noticeably swallowed, and Lily realized then how much her own throat had constricted, in spite of already knowing the story.
Geraldine gained sudden conviction. “You gotta know. I’d sooner die than spend one cent of that man’s money.” She looked at Ellis, almost daring him to challenge her.
“I believe you,” he stressed.
“As do I.” Lily’s voice verged on a whisper.
Slowly Geraldine nodded, the tension around her mouth relaxing.
Perhaps not feeling a need to, she made no mention of the old mason jar she had described to Lily: a transparent display of those cursed dollar bills. Each one surely a reminder of a mother’s shame, no matter the reasoning behind her choice.
Instead, she kept her composure and proceeded with intent. “Now, Mr. Reed,” she said, “when Miss Palmer called, she told Doc Summers you were hunting down what happened to me and my children. Finding out about their new parents and such.”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“Well, when you do, when you know more, I want you to tell me. And don’t you worry, I’m not looking to steal ’em back. They’re to stay right where they are, and they’re not to hear about any of this. I just need to know firsthand that they’re safe.”
Ellis proffered a heavy smile. “I understand.”
Lily was dumbfounded. She had been certain that the point of Geraldine’s visit was to acquire Ellis’s help, to combine forces to reunite her family.
Then Ellis added gently, “And I can tell you already, Mrs. Dillard. From everything I’ve seen, they’re being well cared for, just like you hoped.”
Lily scrambled to absorb his words, his claim that sounded literal. “You actually saw them.”
Why would he withhold such important news? Was there something he wasn’t saying?
“It just happened today,” he said quickly, as if sensing her worry. “I tracked them down over in New Jersey.”
Geraldine looked almost panicked. “They were going to California. Where it’d be sunny and warm. That’s what the man said.”
Ellis raised a hand to calm her. “It was the truth. He and his wife were living in Long Beach, or thereabouts. Then he got a job at another bank—a big promotion in Jersey—and they moved into a real nice house there.”
The sudden relief sweeping over Geraldine was palpable. An internal dam, clearly bound by every fiber of her strength, had splintered, sending a rush of tears to her eyes. “So, the kids…they’re doing all right?”
“I wasn’t able to talk to them,” Ellis said, “but from a distance, Ruby looked happy enough and healthy.”
“And Cal? He was there with her?”
“He was. He was even laughing. At some radio program…a western, I think.”
Geraldine brightened, her son’s giggles clearly echoing in her ear. Though not a minute later, that glow faded. It had to be bittersweet, the knowledge that someone else could so easily bring her son joy. That such a sound would become a mere memory for Geraldine.
Which was why Lily couldn’t let that happen.
“Mrs. Dillard, it’s not too late. We can fix this together, I’m sure we can.”
Geraldine swiped at her eyes and straightened in her chair. Fervently, she shook her head. “There’s nothing that needs fixin’. Life is just how it should be.”
“But…if you do want them back—”
“Knowing they’re happy and healthy is all I need.”
“Well, yes, I understand that. But—”
“I’ve said my piece.”
Lily wanted to protest further but refrained. It was painfully clear there was no swaying Geraldine.
At least, not tonight.
- • •
They walked to his car in silence, Lily and Ellis together. Streetlamps and the white glow of a three-quarter moon threw shadows over the pavement. She could have said goodbye from the boardinghouse, sent him off at the front door, but there was more she needed to tell him.
As though he expected as much, he waited beside his car door with hat held low.
“Those children should be with their mother. Now that she’s well again, it’s unfair to keep them apart. You must know in your heart she doesn’t actually want to live without them.”
“Lily, listen…” While spoken softly, there was dissension in his words.
“Yes, I know. The Millstones have prominence and a fancy home and in all likelihood mean well. Still, you heard Geraldine. She’s working as a caregiver now. She’d find a way to manage.”
“I’m sure she would.” His agreement sounded genuine. “Unfortunately…it’s just not that simple.”
“She’s their mother. It is that simple. What could possibly be more important?”
He released a sigh, as if dreading to voice the answer. “I feel for them, Lily. Trust me, I do. But even if Geraldine demanded them back, I can’t imagine the Millstones handing them over without a fight. They’d have almost everything on their side, including a top-notch lawyer. I’m familiar with enough cases to know that no reasonable judge is going to return the kids to a poor widow.” He added with reluctance, “Especially one who sold them.”
“They weren’t really for sale, though. You know that.”
He went quiet, and she worried she had seemed accusatory. That wasn’t her intention. She was only stressing his full knowledge of the situation.
But then he rubbed the back of his neck, thinking things over. Perhaps sifting through options.
“Ellis, there must be something we can do.”
He raised a shoulder, meeting her eyes. “If I thought it would help, heck, I’d pay the legal fees myself. But to take this on, any lawyer worth his salt would have to believe there’s even a remote chance of winning.”
“So, we’ll build a stronger case.”
This caused him to smile, and she noted how naive she appeared.
Maybe in some ways she was, because she absolutely had to believe a solution existed, that the powerful bond inherent between a mother and child could surmount any obstacle separating them. And yet, Lily had also learned how the support of another person, even unexpectedly, could prove far more vital.
Geraldine needed their help, more than she knew. Ellis couldn’t deny this fact once given a glimpse through Lily’s perspective.
“If I deserved a second chance,” she told him, “so does Geraldine.”
He tilted his head, just a fraction, but his attention was fully captured.
For the first time to anyone but family, she would tell her story.
Not all of it, mind you. But enough.
“The summer before my senior year,” she began, “I was staying at the shore with a friend and her family. And I met a boy. He was charming and handsome, and the way he’d look at me…I thought for certain it was love. Of course, I discovered how foolish I’d been when he stepped out with another girl. But it was too late by then…to reverse what I’d done.”
She let the implication dangle, unwilling to recount the evenings of sweet whispers and strolls on the beach, of chills and hand-holding and kisses that led to more.
“I was young and terrified. I knew the scandal it could bring my family…and the baby. So, I agreed to give him up.” The reference to Samuel needed no clarification. Ellis’s nod made clear he understood, inviting her to go on.
“It was the most logical decision in the world. I even wrote a letter for him to read one day, explaining it all.” No message could have been harder to draft, yet she had persisted for everyone’s benefit. “Then he was born, and I took one look at this beautiful, perfect child that was actually part of me, and I couldn’t do it. The papers were already signed, but I begged and pleaded anyway. If my father hadn’t stood up for me, and for Samuel, the adoption agency would have taken him. And I’d have made the biggest mistake of my life.”
In the darkness, Lily could still see the scenes playing out. They were silent images, like a Chaplin picture projected on a screen. As they blurred and faded, she dragged her gaze back to Ellis, her sudden dread of judgment akin to Geraldine’s.
Thus, the acceptance she found—in the depth of his eyes, in his whole bearing—meant more than he could have imagined. “So, you understand now?”
He affirmed as much by the tenderness of his smile. “I do.”
A sense that he was coming around buoyed her hopes. “The Dillards belong together, Ellis.”
“And…to make that happen, they’ll need help,” he finished.
“Precisely.”
In that way, they were no different from a family like the Lindberghs, she realized. Only, for Geraldine, there was no bloodhound team of officers and agents working day and night. No hefty savings to offer as a reward or to entice a trade. No prominent name to incite national headlines. All she had was Lily and Ellis and the truth of what was just.
If at all within their power, how could they not try?
