Finding Grace: A Novel (9 page)

Her mouth gaped at everything she saw. She
was so mesmerized that when the train was suddenly thrown into
darkness, she let out a cry of surprise. It came to her that they
had gone into a tunnel. The dimness was so eerie that a shiver ran
up her spine. Moments later, there came a strange, almost ethereal
light. The train began to slow, and then with a crying of the
brakes, it came to a stop…and the porter called out.

"Chicago, Union Station!"

Her heart did a summersault as she realized
that this was the end of the line. She had arrived. Suddenly, she
was afraid to get out. The car had become almost
comfortable…secure, in its way. It had kept the unfamiliar world
out, for a time. But now she had to go and face it. Even the
porter, who had been so good to her, could be of no help now. So
she took a deep breath, picked up her bag, and rose to her feet.
She made her way to the door, following the other passengers out.
And as she stood in the doorway of the car, the shock of reality
hit her full force.

Good heavens, what have I gotten myself
into?

She stepped down to a long and wide cement
walkway. Looking up, she saw the source of the soft white light. It
came from a frosted glass ceiling, and she stood staring at it for
several moments, captured by its beauty. Turning her eyes from it,
she watched the movement of passengers all around her…and there
were so many people to see. Everywhere there were moving bodies,
more people in one place than she'd ever seen in her life, all
moving to and fro. And what strange, fascinating people they were
to watch.

The gentlemen were dashing, some wearing
banded straw hats…others with handsome fedoras. Their clothing
looked like the kind she’d only seen on Sunday mornings. There were
no overalls or tattered shirts here. The men wore neat looking
slacks and fine button up shirts, some covered with thin vests and
others with suspenders. How tidy the gentlemen were…most of them
clean shaven, though some wore a small mustache. But not one of
them had a scraggly face.

Even their shoes…not mud-encrusted boots,
but fine leather loafers…were perfect, and she could see why.
Nearby, there was a boy kneeling down with a rag in his hand,
buffing the extended foot of a man reading a newspaper…and she
smiled.

No wonder their shoes shine
so brightly
, she thought. She’d never seen
anything like it.

If the men were incredible to her amazed
eyes, the ladies were even more so. From head to toe, the women
were like a flock of brightly feathered birds…so elegant, so
colorful. They seemed to preen for all who might be watching. Some
had cute little rounded hats that came down low over their
foreheads. Other hats were wide-brimmed and decorated with ribbons
or feathers. The dresses were of the brightest colors and loveliest
fabrics, many of the collars trimmed with fur or beads. Nearly
every female neck was festooned with a long strand of pearls, most
of which hung down to the waist. The ladies clomped by in
thick-heeled, buckled shoes of various colors, but it was their
bare knees that stunned her the most. In all of her life she’d
never seen such high hemlines, falling just above the knee itself
and exposing a scandalous amount of stocking clad leg.

She thought to
herself,
If Mama and those old biddies at
church could see this, they’d fall plum on their faces with shock
and shame.
And on that thought, she smiled
again, thinking how very funny it would be to see such a
thing.

Someone bumped into her, bringing her back
from her musing. The man apologized and went on his way, but the
incident suddenly made her remember where she was. There was a loud
humming from the many voices, the rattling of baggage carts rolling
by, the hissing of the train…a hundred other sounds she couldn't
distinguish. Another person pushed past her, and she realized that
by standing in one place, she was only causing trouble. Following
the flow of the crowd, though rather more slowly than they, she
looked around for she knew not what. She saw a man in uniform…one
who looked like another porter or maybe a conductor. Quietly she
went to him, seeking directions. He pointed her down a hall, and
giving him a small word of thanks, she went the way he had shown
her.

Her feet froze, her head came up, and her
mouth fell open wide at the sight before her eyes.

The Great Hall was enormous. Decorated in
white marble, with great columns in the middle and a set of stairs
rising up on one side, it could have been the hall of a king or
queen. Voices echoed in the air, making her feel as though she
stood in some great and magnificent church, so vast and open was
the room and its ceiling. Without quite knowing what she was doing,
she began to move about as if she were in a trance, her neck craned
up in awe.

Suddenly she backed into someone. A suitcase
dropped, popping open, its contents falling on the floor. Her
cheeks flushed red with embarrassment and fear. A lovely young
red-head…maybe she was in her mid-twenties in age…was the other
party of the accident. Impeccably dressed in a red skirt and a
dotted white silk blouse, she was a quite a beauty. But there was
nothing beautiful about the words coming out of her mouth.

"Why don't you watch where the hell you're
going?"

Grace stammered an apology. “Excuse me
ma’am. I’m awful sorry. Let me help you with that.” She knelt down
to assist, but the woman snatched her things away.

“
Keep your grubby paws off
of my stuff! I’ll get them myself!” She started to mutter as she
stuffed things back into her suitcase. "Of all the stupid, clumsy
little idiots…”

Then a man's voice interjected. It was a
deep, soothing voice…and it was full of sarcasm.

“
Problems,
Victoria?”

Grace glanced over, seeing a shiny pair of
gentleman’s shoes. She was so flustered with her mistake, so busy
trying to help, that at first she didn’t look up to see who the
speaker was. She listened and watched as Victoria screeched up at
him.

"It's about time you showed up, Henry! I've
been waiting here for a good half hour. I just had the worst trip
of my life, and now this, on top of everything else." She gestured
to her bag as she closed it. With a huff she rose to her feet.

Grace felt mortified as she stood. She
turned to look at the gentleman…and jumped back slightly, startled
at seeing his eyes. They were the palest blue eyes she'd ever seen
in her life…like two blue chips of ice. And yet as cold as they
were in color, they seemed to burn like fire as he looked her up
and down, examining her. And while he looked at her, she did the
same to him. His was an imposing man…tall, dark-haired, lean but
muscular. Dressed in tan trousers and a crisp white shirt, with a
close-fitting brown vest, he had a striking air of importance about
him. Too important, she seemed to realize quickly. His lip curled
slightly. When he spoke, his voice was deep, and rather thrilling.
But it had no hint of warmth as he addressed her.

"Don’t I know you?”

She blinked, startled by his question. She
shook her head. And still he stared at her, his gaze burning right
through her.

"What’s your name?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but Victoria
broke in.

"What difference does it make who she is,
Henry? I want to get home, if you don't mind.”

She tried to gesture him toward the stairs.
But he just turned to look at her with that chilly expression of
his.

"Victoria, has anyone ever told you that
patience is a virtue?"

There was contempt in his voice, and in his
look. Grace bristled at his rudeness. What was wrong with him? And
why wasn’t Victoria standing up for herself? She seemed like the
kind of woman who wouldn’t take that kind of behavior from a man.
But Victoria just rolled her eyes turning her head away with a
huff. Grace looked back at Henry, and she saw a little flicker of
satisfaction in his eyes. Apparently, he was happy with the results
of his reprimand. Then he turned his attention back to her.

"What’s your name?" he asked again.

Briefly she wondered if she should give him
an answer, as rude as he seemed to be. But she found herself
answering anyway.

"Grace Langdon."

For a moment he seemed to ponder the name.
"Langdon," he said at last. "That’s where I’ve seen you. Do you
have a brother named John?”

Her eyes widened in anticipation of his
reply. “You know Jack?” For a moment she forgot about his rude way
of being…until he answered her with a shrug.

"Maybe I do…maybe I don’t.”

Her eyes widened in surprise as she
wondered...

What kind of an answer is that?

There was a moment of silence following his
reply, as she watched him reach into his pocket to take out a piece
of candy. Why did it seem he was deliberately being slow in
unwrapping it, and why was he delaying in saying more about Jack?
She could tell by his expression that he was just being
mean…purposely withholding information just to annoy her. And it
was working.

Speak!
She thought.
Speak, you big
bully!
And at last he did.

“
He’s my neighbor. I believe
I’ve seen your face in a picture or two. The resemblance is
remarkable, I have to say.”

Victoria rudely interrupted. "Oh, swell!”
she snarked. “It’s such a small world, isn’t it? We all know each
other! Why don’t we just take the little bunny home, Henry? Let’s
adopt her!”

She moved her hands about, and then brought
them together in a mocking sort of clap. For a moment, Grace found
something pretty in the way she moved, almost like watching a
little dance. But just as quickly as she had smiled, Victoria drew
her mouth into a serious, angry frown, and her brown eyes
blazed.

"Henry, I am tired and hungry. And if you
don't take me home right now, I'll just wave down a cab and get
there myself." As she had before, she challenged him with her
stance and her eyes, her hands on her hips.

Grace shifted her glance to Henry to see
what he would do. And she wasn’t so surprised when he rolled his
eyes slightly in annoyance.

"Ishkabibble," he replied.

Ishkabibble?
she thought.
What’s
that?
She had no idea what it meant. But
she guessed it was his way of dismissing someone, as he started to
turn away from them both. But he paused for a moment to look at her
again, lifting his hat to her. Then he turned and walked towards
the stairs, leaving the two of them alone.

Grace wasn’t sure what to do…especially when
she turned to look at Victoria, whose face was red with rage. The
woman looked like she might explode. Would she have a screaming
fit, or go on the attack? For a moment, Grace wondered if she would
be on the receiving end of a slap. But Victoria just stomped her
foot, cursing the man who had left her standing there.

“
Son of a bitch,” she
muttered, snatching up her suitcase…and she hurried after
Henry.

Grace stood there for a moment, bewildered
by the both of them. She saw how Henry turned just at the bottom of
the stairs, waiting for Victoria to catch up with him. When she
did, he reached out to take the suitcase from her hand. Suddenly
they became the most civil of couples, as Victoria hooked her arm
in his, letting him lead her up the stairs towards the door. What a
strange pair they were! But she could only spend a moment wondering
about their odd behavior. Suddenly she remembered where she was…who
she was trying to find.

I can’t let them get
away,
she thought.
They know where Jack is.

She rushed for the stairs to follow
them.

Out on the street, she looked left…looked
right. And there they were, just down the sidewalk. They were about
to board what looked like a trackless train car, and she hurried
towards it. She caught up with them just as Victoria stepped
onboard. She called out to Henry, and right away she saw how his
blue gaze fell on her, as if to ask...

What can that creeping creature want
now?

She even heard him mumble a complaint when
he saw her coming.

“
Oh, for the love of
Christ.”

His curse shocked her. His look almost kept
her from speaking. But she gathered her courage, saying what she
needed to say, despite his off-putting manner.

"Can you please help me get to my
brother?"

She saw how he turned his head away
slightly, as if she were annoying him. But she would not let him
deter her.

"I'd be so obliged,” she added, hoping he
wouldn’t turn her away.

He looked at her again, seeming to think
about it. He was silent for a moment…until the people standing
behind them in line began to grumble. He muttered something under
his breath. For a moment, she thought he would indeed tell her to
go. Instead he stepped back a pace…and gestured for her to board
the car.

Finding a seat just in front of Victoria,
she watched Henry as he came to sit beside his unhappy companion.
Of her, Grace took little notice. But watching Henry, she realized
she was obligated to him, and not just for letting her follow him
onboard. She had seen him pay her way. And whether she thought him
good or bad, she knew it would only be right to acknowledge his
help. After all, he was the one who was helping her get to Jack,
and for that, she really was grateful. Awkwardly, she turned to
him, clearing her throat nervously before she spoke.

"Thank you, sir, for your help.” She wanted
to say more. She had the words on the tip of her tongue. But
suddenly he cut her off with a sharp remark.

“
Yeah, yeah,” he muttered.
Leaning his head back against his seat, using his hat to cover his
face, he let out a loud sigh…making it clear he wasn’t interested
in speaking to anyone, especially her. Victoria didn't seem
bothered by his behavior. She took an emery board from her clutch
bag and started filing her nails.