A Home for Her Heart

The joy on her face had John clearing his throat as several of the women wiped their eyes. John wished he could excuse himself. All of this emotion was something he wasn’t comfortable with. He was happy for everyone, especially Mrs. Heaton. She deserved all the happiness she was experiencing now. But the talk of weddings and starting families brought thoughts to mind he wanted to forget.

* * *

The next morning, Elizabeth watched her boss look over the photos she’d brought in and waited for his reaction to the ideas she’d told him about.

Mr. Dwyer laid the last photo on top of the others and looked over at her with a smile. “I’m very impressed with all this, Elizabeth. I like your ideas about doing a series of articles, too. In fact, I wish we were a daily publication so that we could get more information out about the condition of the tenements.”

“I’m so glad you want a series. What about the photographs? Do you want to use any of them?”

“I do. I’d like to run a two-page spread, at least for this one. And I’d like you to continue to stress the need for the child-care homes in the city as you did in the first article we published about the tenements.”

“I’ll be more than happy to. I’ll get the first draft to you this week.”

Mr. Dwyer smiled. “I look forward to reading it.”

For the rest of the morning, Elizabeth worked on the article and tried hard not to watch the clock. Excited as she was about her boss’s response to her ideas, it was hard not to think about meeting John for lunch. She was ready and waiting for him in the foyer of the Delineator’s office building ten minutes early.

She looked at the clock just over the receptionist’s desk. It was 11:55 a.m. now. John should be showing up anytime. Elizabeth still wasn’t sure what to make of his suggestion that they go back to the tenements today. She was pretty sure he wasn’t any happier about working with her than she was about working with him. At first. But now she couldn’t deny that she was looking forward to spending more time with him, although she wasn’t sure why. She’d like to do some more investigating, too, and at least this way, they would both have the same information to work with.

At exactly noon, John breezed through the doors and grinned when he spotted her.

“I knew you’d be ready. Out of all the women at Heaton House, you are the most punctual one.”

“And you’re right on time, too. I truly don’t like to keep people waiting, but it was also taught to me that it was bad manners to do so from an early age.”

“Well, I’m glad. Are you ready for lunch? I’m starving.”

He crooked his arm for her to take and Elizabeth never thought much about it. He and the other men from Heaton House always did the same thing when escorting any of the women. It didn’t mean anything. Only suddenly it had her remembering how it’d felt that day she’d barreled into him and he’d reached out to steady her in such a protective way. She gave a little shake to her head to clear her mind of the thought. “Where are we going?”

“There’s a little café not far from here. I’ve eaten at it several times. It’s got a good mix of men and women who come in to eat and I thought you might be more comfortable there than some of the places I usually eat lunch at. They mostly cater to reporters.”

And obviously he didn’t consider her a real reporter. Her stuff was fluff, after all. She felt her face begin to flush. “I see. And you don’t think—”

“Elizabeth, don’t even finish the thought.” John stopped them in their tracks and turned her to look at him. “I didn’t think either of us would want other reporters to overhear what we’re working on. My boss is very enthused about doing a series of articles and, obviously, since you were able to meet me, your editor likes the idea, too.”

Elizabeth felt a flush of embarrassment flood her cheeks. Why was it she always assumed he thought the worst of her? “You’re right. Of course I don’t want any other reporters overhearing us. And yes, Mr. Dwyer likes the idea very much. He even wishes we were a daily publication.”

“That’s wonderful. Did you bring your camera with you, by any chance?” John asked. “Just in case we need more pictures?”

“I did bring it. Mr. Dwyer wants to use the photos I brought in, so that will be some income for Millicent. He was quite complimentary about her talent. I thought you might have asked her to come along today, as well.”

“She took so many good ones that I didn’t think about needing any more right away. But I’m glad you brought your camera, just in case we run into anything we feel we need a photo of.”

Elizabeth was glad she’d brought it, too. But she did feel bad that she hadn’t made a point to ask if they should bring Millicent along, too—or that she hadn’t mentioned it to the other girl on her own.

They took off again and walked the few blocks to the café John had in mind. It was busy this time of day, but they managed to find a table near the back of the room. A waitress hurried up to them, set water on their table and handed them a handwritten menu.

“The menu changes every day, but I’ve had most of what’s here. The roast beef sandwiches are very good, if a little messy. And the turtle soup is great.”

Elizabeth chose the soup and John decided on the sandwich. The waitress took their order and while they waited, John handed her a new address Kathleen had given him that morning.

“Maybe we can go to this one and the one we didn’t get to the other day and see what we can find out. Kathleen says they are both in bad shape and the landlords are rarely there. Hopefully we can get some answers from the tenants without them being afraid of talking to us.”

“I hope so. We need one or two who are willing to give us the truth about the conditions they’re living in. I know it’s not always easy for people to reveal what they know when they’re afraid of the consequences if they are found out. But I don’t know how we are going to be able to help any of them, if no one tells us who owns the buildings.”

“We’ll discover who does. It will just take longer if we don’t get the information from someone on the premises. I’ll have to go to city hall and do some research. It’s long and tedious work and sometimes people have been paid to hide records. But we’ll unearth the owner.” John seemed determined and excited all at once.

“I hope so.” She also hoped he’d share his findings with her. “I’ve never had to do that kind of research.”

“And you don’t have to now. I’ll do it and let you know what I learn.”

“Why, thank you, John.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Do I? I didn’t mean to.” Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief that she was able to tell the truth, even though she did wonder if he really would share his findings with her. Then she felt bad for doubting that he would. He might not like working with her, and it might be his career he was thinking about, but he usually kept his word and she truly had no reason to doubt that he wouldn’t do so now. “I imagine it’s a lot of work.”

John shrugged. “It can be. But sometimes the only way to find the truth is to dig for it and that’s just part of a reporter’s job.”

Elizabeth’s heart did a little twist as she once again regretted hiding her true identity from John and the other boarders. Was it time to tell them?

The waitress brought their order just then and Elizabeth was glad for the interruption. She wasn’t ready to make that decision just yet. The thought of disappointing those she cared about was something she didn’t want to face, but she knew the time was coming that she’d have to—just not today.

Chapter Five (#ulink_b34eafb9-9ac4-5a00-911b-b6d838e641af)

John wondered at the look in Elizabeth’s eyes just as the waitress brought their meal. Not for the first time, he had a feeling there was more to the woman sitting across from him than what he knew.

There was something about her that set her apart from everyone else, even as she was the same—working for a living and making a life for herself in this huge city.

But what about the aunt she visited so often? And what kind of life did Elizabeth live when she visited her? All he really knew about Elizabeth was what he saw at Heaton House. He did know that she was from Boston, but many young women from other places came to the city to work. That wasn’t unusual.

“This turtle soup is delicious, John. Thanks for recommending it.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

She nodded. “It was a favorite of my mother’s, too. I remember having it quite often before she passed away. Funny how some memories stay with you, isn’t it?”

“It is. I don’t have many of my mother, though. I was only five when she passed. I don’t remember special meals or anything like that. Just the warm feeling I have thinking about her reading to me, listening to my prayers and tucking me into bed at night.”

“Oh, John, I’m so sorry you lost her so young.”

“Thank you. There is a certain scent I connect with her, too”

“Oh? Some kind of toilet water? Lavender, maybe?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s more like a combination of lilac and...now, don’t laugh, but baking bread. Either one triggers what few memories I have.”

The look in Elizabeth’s eyes softened and she smiled, but she didn’t laugh. “I love the scent of lilacs. We had several bushes around our house in Boston and Mother always filled vases with them in the spring.”