Authors: Lynn Ricci
Sarah laughed, “We are until the wildlife starts throwing themselves at our windows.”
Shaking her head while pulling both sides of the corkscrew down to remove the cork. “I was being silly earlier. I know there is nothing to be scared of. I’ll be honest the crow this morning was a little much for me after having such a bad nightmare.”
“For me as well.”
Sarah stopped pouring and looked up at him, searching his face for the meaning. “I thought you said it was just the snow and white-out conditions?”
“Probably.”
Her hands were frozen in place and eyes were intensely alert. “Well birds don’t just try to get in, right? Mason?”
Nodding to alleviate some of her fears, Mason picked up his glass. He kept his mouth a straight line, knowing how gruesome his smile could be with one corner of his mouth frozen by scar tissue. She picked up hers and smiled broadly, her blond hair spilling over the shoulders of her dark green sweater and looking beautiful even with the doubt and tension in her eyes.
“To new friends.”
“New friends,” he echoed back. “Merry Christmas, Sarah.”
Glassed clinked and they both took a sip of the dark red liquid.
Finishing the stuffing in her plate and setting her fork down, Sarah wiped her mouth with her napkin and replaced it on her lap.
“That was delicious.
How did you learn to cook like that?”
“Delia, mostly.
I have to admit, she was a better cook then my mum. Or perhaps I just appreciated food more by then. When I was young and O’Malley first started taking me home on Sundays from the firehouse, Delia would set me up in the kitchen and show me how to roll out dough or fill a Sheppard’s pie. We had goose every year for the holidays and this was her favorite stuffing. Ah, but we had more of the fixings to go with it, but cooking for one I found it was a waste. I didn’t expect to have someone join me this year.”
Sarah took another sip of her wine and smiled, “I am glad I did, honestly.
And, I am amazed at myself for believing this story of yours but I somehow know – deep down – it's true. It explains so much but also opens up so many questions.”
“I know.
But I think the end of the story will help explain the answers you are looking for.”
Mason stood from the stool, picking his dishes up from the counter bar and bringing them to the kitchen.
“I’m going to call my parents again.”
“Go ahead, I will clean up.”
Sarah disappeared into the bedroom as Mason started kitchen duty.
It was only a few minutes later he heard a crash and he dropped the silverware he had in his hand, running as fast as he could manage across the room and towards the bedroom. Sarah was coming out the bedroom door but had her eyes fixated on the window by the fire escape. Mason knew before he even could see around the corner that the cat had returned.
“What happened?” He asked as he reached the doorway.
“I was on the phone, talking to my dad and was moving the suitcase that was on my bed. I heard a meowing sound. Turning on my bed, I saw the cat but it hissed, arched its back and then ran off. I dropped the suitcase on the floor. Sorry if I scared you.”
“No problem.” Mason looked around the room and Sarah bent to retrieve the carry-on bag that looked like she had already started packing hoping for the best.
Stuffing the contents back in, she placed the suitcase on the chair in the corner of the room.
“My parents want to come up and get me but I told them to wait until the morning.”
“So you will be home for Christmas after all.”
“Yes,” she smiled and looked relived, “but I really appreciate your being here with me now.” She looked like she meant it and Mason wasn’t sure if he emotionally felt like he was standing taller with the compliment or if his twisted spine was actually loosening its hunched form.
As he walked back to the living room with Sarah, he knew it was the latter.
Dropping onto her listening end of the couch, fixing her pillows, she looked like she was getting ready for his story.
Before he made it to the chair he stopped by the small table in the corner to adjust the light in the room. On the table was a small present. Sarah seemed to notice it the moment he did. “Mason, would you mind bringing that over here? We always had a tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve. Since this is the only one here, I guess it’s as good as any to open.”
Obligingly he picked up the gift and handed it to her as he made his way to the chair opposite Sarah.
He settled in as she started ripping open the wrapping paper, chatting about how a new friend in Boston had dropped this by her office and how foolish she felt not having a gift in return. By then the box was open and she was pulling out an ornate silver box, but obviously an antique. Small, with filigree and intricate designs. There was also a bag and even though sealed, he knew that scent even before she opened the top and released the aroma into the room.
“Isn’t this lovely!” Sarah exclaimed.
“I know what this is. It’s a charcoal burner. I saw it in Zoe’s shop and commented on it.” She held the small pouch up to her nose and breathed in. “It’s like incense. Although I can’t remember what she called it exactly? Is this ok to use since it doesn’t burn like a candle?”
“Agarwood.”
Sarah’s head turned towards Mason. “I think you might be right. But how would you know that?”
“It was a scent I used to know well.”
“Well, this was a nice and unexpected gift.” Sarah set the box down on the table and Mason’s eyes followed the motion almost expecting the box to transform at any moment into something terrible. Sarah picked up her wine glass; draining the remains and setting it back down next to the box and the pouch. She looked expectantly towards Mason.
“Sarah, the next part of the story, really the end of the story, may be difficult to hear.
If you want or need me to stop at any point, please tell me.”
With that settled, it was time to plow on. The wind continued to howl outside even though the snow had stopped hours before. Plows continued to make their runs and the smaller whine and scraping of the sidewalk plow had started past their brownstone meaning that the main street had been cleared.
Mason looked at Sarah, and up at the painting on the brick wall of the snowy Brownstones and thought how everything was just falling in place.
He had to tell his story.
Leaning back he noticed his body settled into the chair differently, easier, and he wondered if there was improvement in his back as well.
“I started working for the Todd’s
in the springtime of 1880 . . .”
“The Todd’s brownstone was impressive indeed. At the time, before automobiles, people relied on walking, streetcars and of course horse and carriage. The Todd's, being part of the upper class, had the stable specifically built to house not only their carriage and thoroughbreds, but for riding horses as well. Their daughters, Catherine and Penelope, were both excellent riders and the entire Todd family would enjoy taking rides together on horseback. They decided against Beacon Hill due to what they considered congestion in that part of the city to their location in order to have access to larger wooded areas and riding trails.
Mr. Todd welcomed me himself on that Saturday that I moved my meager belongings to their home.
I had already been out there a few times to acquaint myself with the stable and to change a shoe for one of the mares.
I arrived with one bag and Mr. Todd brought me in through the back entrance across from the stable, into the lower level.
There were servants quarters in the basement but the windows were larger at the back of the house where the land dipped down and flattened out to a large square.
We stepped into the house and he led me to my room.
For the first time in my life I had my own room. There wasn’t much to it, but there was a new bed frame and mattress, a nightstand with a lantern, a bureau with a wash basin set on top of it, a chair and mirror on the wall.
I set my bag on the bed and Mr. Todd said he would have someone bring me sheets.
I couldn’t have been happier that day and Mr. Todd, who had seemed very quiet and distracted over the last few visits, actually seemed to brighten his mood as well.
Dinner was served in the kitchen that night.
Not with Mr. Todd who ate in the dining room, of course, but I ate in the kitchen with the other hired help. That was when I met the governess.
She was startlingly beautiful.
I don’t think I had ever seen a woman enter a room and suck it dry of color, light and sound like she did. I was dizzy with her around and she knew it. And enjoyed it.
After a few weeks, Mrs. Burke the cook, Mrs. Sullivan’s cousin, pulled me aside and made me promise to stay away from Selena.
She told me Selena was evil. Plus, there was talk that she had Mr. Todd under her spell.
Why else would he need a governess on the payroll all this time when his children and wife had yet to arrive? What could she be doing all this time?
They speculated.
I kept to the horses, taking Mr. Todd where he needed to go and helping with the preparations for the rest of the Todd clan.
With only a few days left before their arrival, the staff at the house was busy preparing. Men put the final coat of paint in the upper floors and the housekeeper, Anna, was doing a full spring cleaning. The governess seemed to be busy in her room most days but had a meeting with Mr. Todd each night at seven to review the books she was choosing and the lessons she would be teaching. Mrs. Burke always gave me a sly sideways look when the grandfather clock would chime seven and shoo me and Anna out of the kitchen mumbling in Gaelic as the governess would come up the back stairs and through the kitchen into the main part of the house.
At night, I would smell the incense she burned right through the wall.
It was Agarwood.”
“That’s funny.
That’s how you knew the smell then.” She interrupted and he gave a wan smile.
“’Tis that.”
“On a bright sunny morning in April, Mrs. Todd arrived with their two daughters. Mr. Todd had me bring the carriage around early and we went down to the pier to watch their steamer arrive. It was a bustling morning with one other ship already docked and the throngs of people new to America and meeting loved ones was all around us. Mr. Todd released me to wait for the Cob’s to be unloaded and to get them back to the stables on my own. Mr. Todd would be bringing his family home himself by carriage.
Later that day, with the new horses settled into the stable, brushed and cleaned, shoes checked and skin inspected, I was completely exhausted.
It had been a long but satisfying day and the horses were indeed grand creatures. One was even pregnant.
Late in the day, I was finally done and crossed the courtyard to the house.
Mr. Todd had asked me to give him a report on the horses' condition once I was done. Entering the doorway, I went upstairs to the kitchen and Mrs. Burke and Anna were there. Anna immediately put her finger to her mouth to tell me to stay quiet and then I heard the voices. Mr. Todd was speaking to someone and surprisingly sounded like he was losing ground. The other voice was female.
“They’ve been going at it for an hour now,” Mrs. Burke whispered, stirring the bowl in front of her.
“About what?”
Mrs. Burke face contorted and before she even said the word, and I knew what the answer would be.
“The Governess.”
“Ah.
The wife got a look at her?” I couldn’t help but chuckle.
What was that man thinking hiring a woman that looked like that? He had been asking for trouble.
Anna giggled and Mrs. Burke swatted me with the towel that she always kept over her shoulder, a mock look of surprise on her face to cover the smile starting to form.
“Aiden Murphy, heaven’s sakes, you’re incorrigible! No, it’s the daughter. She doesn’t think she needs a governess since she is turning eighteen next month and plans to go to college come fall.”
“I thought his daughters were young?”
“I think Mr. Todd has lost sight of their ages. I’m not surprised, all he does is work and he’s been in a complete trance these last few weeks.” She lowered her voice and leaned in close, “I think that woman has done something to him.”
It was no secret there was something going on with the governess and Mr. Todd although none of us could really figure it out.
It was not uncommon for a man to take a mistress especially with his family far away, but Selena was different. With her beauty she could easily find a suitable husband yet she chose a spinster's profession and a man twice her age with a family coming to live under the same roof. We all thought he would terminate her service before they arrived to let go of the charade, but he didn’t. No, it didn’t make sense, yet there was something going on because Mr. Todd seemed like she was sucking the life right out of him and yet he kept her here.
The room had quieted down and Mrs. Burke swatted me again, pointing to the butler's sink in the pantry. “Go on.
Clean up before you present yourself.”