Christmas at Harrington's Read online

  “Okay,” Jemima agreed.

  “We need to find a clean, safe place to set the bowl up, and you need to do your part to keep the room clean. Do you understand?”

  Jemima nodded.

  “And if you don’t keep your word, I’ll have to move the fish to my room. But you can come visit.”

  “All right.”

  “In fact, let’s get the fish set up in my room first and then we’ll go finish cleaning yours, okay?”

  “Sure, that’s okay.”

  They let the fish out of the bag and into the bowl, which looked rather shallow since it was only about a fourth full of water. “I’ll go find something to put some more water in,” Jemima offered. To Lena’s surprise, she quickly returned with a bucket.

  “It’s from the cleaning closet,” Jemima said.

  “We better scrub it out really good then,” Lena told her, “to make sure there are no cleaning chemicals in it. And we’ll leave it in my room tonight just to make sure you don’t knock it over. I don’t want Lucy throwing me out over spilled water.”

  It took them several hours to get the room cleaned and straightened, but as they worked, Lena pieced together the story of why Sally and Jemima were staying in Miller House. “Daddy was mean to Mommy,” Jemima told her. “We had to leave really fast one night. All we could take was what Mommy could put in the car before Daddy got home.”

  “Do you still have the car?”

  “No. Mommy had to sell it so we could have money for food and this room. She sold some other stuff too.” Jemima frowned. “Like my video player and my DVDs. That made me so mad. But Mommy said we’d have to live on the street without any money.” She took in a frightened little breath. “I don’t want to live on the street. Mommy showed me where some really poor people live in this yucky alley place. It was scary. One man had black teeth and he looked like a monster.” Jemima held her hands up in a scary gesture. “I think he wanted to eat us for dinner.”

  “How long ago did you come here – I mean to Miller House?”

  Jemima shrugged as she struggled to hang a sweater on a hanger. “I don’t remember. It was after Halloween though. I remember I got to go trick-or-treating at my old house. I was a princess.” She sighed. “But I forgot to bring my princess costume. We had to hurry too fast.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m not supposed to tell anyone where we came from – I mean the name of our town. And we have different names too.” She looked worried. “But you won’t tell anyone I said that, will you?”

  “No, I won’t tell anyone.” Lena wondered how many other secrets lurked behind the boardinghouse walls. “Do you go to school?”

  “Mommy promised I could go to school after Christmas if she got a job. I’m in first grade and I can already read.”

  “Do you have any books here?”

  Jemima shook her head.

  “There’s a library in town,” Lena said. “Maybe we can go there.”

  It was nearly 8:00 when the room was finally straightened. “Wow,” Jemima said as she looked around. “Mommy is going to be surprised.”

  Lena pointed to the spot on the dresser that they’d designated for food, which held a rumpled box of Cheerios, a nearly empty jar of peanut butter, and a small box of crackers. “Do you want something to eat before you go to bed?”

  “Is it okay?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  Jemima decided on crackers with peanut butter. “I’ll fix them for you,” Lena said, “while you put on your pajamas.” She pointed to the pink flannel pajamas that she’d laid out on the rollaway bed. She’d unearthed them earlier today and they seemed relatively clean.

  “Mommy says it’s okay to sleep in my clothes.”

  “Tonight you’re sleeping in your pajamas. And you’ll hang up the clothes you wore today.” It was strange, she was starting to feel like Mary Poppins. As if any minute she might burst into “A Spoonful of Sugar.” Although Miss Poppins’s young charges had been spoiled rich kids who ate more than just saltines and peanut butter for dinner.

  “What about the goldfish?” Jemima asked after she finished her snack. “The room’s clean now.”

  Lena thought about this. “How about if the goldfish sleeps in my room tonight?”

  “Why?”

  “Because your mom might come home and not know that it was there. You know, she could knock it over and spill all the water and break the bowl, and then your poor goldfish would die.”

  “Oh.” Jemima nodded with a serious expression. “Okay.”

  It was around 8:30 when Lena finally enticed Jemima to get into her bed with the promise of a story. “Do you have a book in your room?” Jemima asked.

  “No.” Lena shook her head as she sat on the chair.

  “Then how can you tell me a story?”

  Lena thought about that. “I do know a Christmas story.”

  “Really?” Jemima sat up with big eyes. “I love Christmas stories!”

  So for the second time that day, Lena recited ’Twas the Night Before Christmas. Only this time she did it out loud and with a bit of dramatic flair.

  “Wow,” Jemima said. “That was really good. Did you make it up?”

  “Haven’t you ever heard it before?”

  “I don’t know . . . maybe. Will you tell it again?”

  “Perhaps tomorrow night. Now it’s time for you to go to sleep. I have big plans for us tomorrow.”

  “Really?”

  Lena nodded as she turned off the light. Sitting there in the darkness, with only a slit of light coming in beneath the closed shade, Lena wondered what kind of big plans she really did have for them tomorrow.

  Well, for starters, there was the goldfish. Jemima hadn’t decided on a name yet. She was torn between Goldie and Sunshine since the fish was more golden than orange. And Lena had considered a trip to the library, but it would be Sunday so it might not be open.

  There was always church . . .

  She hadn’t forgotten Moira’s invitation. But the truth was, prior to meeting Jemima and Sally, she’d had no intention of putting one foot inside a church again. However, she knew it wouldn’t hurt Jemima to attend Sunday school and be with other children. And perhaps it would be a good connection for Sally too. Maybe the church would have some sort of daycare program.

  Lena was concerned about who would watch Jemima when both she and Sally were working. That was assuming Lena really would start a job at Harrington’s Department Store on Monday. And if not . . . well, she’d just have to cross that bridge later. Good grief, this was only her first day here in New Haven, and already it felt as if she’d been here for days.

  But the strangest thing about being here in a different town, sitting in someone else’s room, watching someone else’s child fall asleep . . . Lena felt more at home than she’d been in years. Even before she’d been sentenced to prison.

  CHAPTER

  6

  Lena woke early the next morning, even before the sun was up. She knew this was mostly due to her inner clock, which was still set on prison time – every day inmates were roused from bed at 6:00 sharp. But today she decided to make the most of it by being the first one to shower. Certainly no one else on their floor would be up this early on a Sunday. Even Sally, who told Lena last night that she was scheduled to work from nine to four, was probably still sleeping.

  First she checked on the goldfish – Goldie or Sunshine – and feeling sorry for its shallow pool, she carefully poured in more water from the bucket, filling the bowl to a couple of inches below the top. The fish swam around happily, and Lena took the bucket to the bathroom, dumping the remaining water down the sink before stowing the pail back in the cleaning cupboard.

  After her shower, Lena put on the same clothes that she’d worn for two days now. They didn’t actually look too bad since she’d laid them out neatly over her chair last night. She was without hangers since she’d donated the ones from her own closet to yesterday’s cleanup efforts. But sh
e’d taken the time to pick the balls from the sleeves of the red acrylic sweater, and fortunately, the black polyester pants looked indestructible. Unfortunately, she’d never cared for synthetic fibers. And she wondered how she was expected to work in a department store with this extremely limited wardrobe. With less than forty dollars to her name, it wasn’t as if she could go shopping.

  If this was all that released prisoners had to work with after doing time, it was no wonder that some of them went straight back to a life of crime. Not that Lena was tempted to do anything illegal. In fact, she’d never been tempted. She would rather starve and be homeless than steal anything from anyone. And yet she was stuck with a felony record for doing just that.

  She removed the slip of paper from the zipper pocket of her purse and unfolded it. Printed neatly on it were the name of Moira’s church and the time of the service, as well as Moira’s phone number and the words, “Please call me before 9:00 a.m. if you’d like a ride.”

  Lena had noticed the pay phone downstairs, but suspected it was too early to call Moira since it was still dark out. She wished she had a clock, but she knew Sally did and would come knocking on her door before 8:00. That would give Lena plenty of time – that is, if she really wanted to take Jemima to church.

  Lena decided to lie back down on the bed just to think, but the next thing she knew someone was knocking on her door. She realized by the light outside that she must’ve dozed off. Sally was at her door.

  “Jemima is still asleep,” Sally said quietly.

  “Oh, that’s probably good. She seemed tired.”

  Sally hugged Lena. “I don’t know how to thank you. The room was clean. Jemima even has on pajamas. You helped me get that job. You’re watching my little girl.” She stepped back with teary eyes. “It’s like you’re my angel.”

  Lena smiled. “I’m glad I could help.”

  Sally pulled out some crumpled bills. “It’s not much, but I wanted to share some of my tips with you. I wish I could pay you properly for babysitting, but – ”

  “I don’t expect pay.” Lena tried to hand the money back to Sally. “And you and Jemima need food and – ”

  “Bonnie let me bring some food home last night,” Sally said as she pushed Lena’s hand back. “Just some leftover rolls and pastries she was going to toss. But it’s in the room. You and Jemima can have some for breakfast.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you. Now I better hurry so I’m not late.”

  Lena got her purse and the goldfish bowl then locked her door and went over to room 11, where Jemima was just waking up.

  “You brought Sunshine!” she exclaimed as she hopped out of the rollaway.

  “Sunshine?”

  “My goldfish.”

  “Oh, yes.” Lena set the bowl on the dresser. “And Sunshine probably wants some food now.” She reminded Jemima how she was supposed to pinch a few flakes like the young man had said and drop them on the surface of the water.

  Still wearing her pink pajamas, Jemima quietly stood there watching the fish. “Look,” she finally said, “she’s eating.”

  “And you should eat too,” Lena told her. “Your mom brought some food from the restaurant last night.” She pointed to the paper plate with rolls and pastries.

  “Yummy!” Jemima went straight for the cinnamon roll and Lena took a whole wheat roll. She wished she had some milk or fruit or something more nutritious to give to the little girl, but maybe later.

  Lena looked at the alarm clock by Sally’s unmade bed. “Now, if you wanted, we could probably go to church this – ”

  “To church?” Jemima exclaimed. “I’ve always wanted to go to church.”

  “You mean you’ve never been?”

  She shook her head as she took another bite. “Can we go, please?” she asked with a mouthful.

  “Maybe. First you finish that roll, then go wash your hands and get dressed.”

  While Jemima did this, Lena made Sally’s bed. Before long they went down the two flights of stairs and Lena used the pay phone to dial Moira’s number. She felt nervous as she waited for it to ring, then suddenly she was talking to Moira.

  “Oh, I would love to take you to church with me,” Moira chirped.

  “And I have a young friend who’d like to come too,” Lena said. “Do they have anything for children? Jemima is six years old.”

  “Jemima can go to Sunday school,” Moira told her. “And you can come to the worship service with me.”

  It was arranged that Lena and Jemima would wait downstairs for Moira to pick them up at 9:30. “I always like to be early,” Moira said. “And that will give us time to get Jemima settled in her Sunday school class. Oh, this is delightful, Lena. I’m so glad you called!”

  But as Lena and Jemima waited outside on the porch, Lena began to doubt the sensibility of this plan. The last time she’d been in church, Daniel had given the sermon. He’d preached long and hard against idolatry and the worship of material things, and she’d suspected his fiery words were aimed at her. She’d just received an inheritance from her grandmother’s estate and wanted to use it for a down payment on a house on Gardenia Lane – a darling little home that she and Daniel would actually own themselves. No more renting. But when he’d heard about it, just days before that sermon, he’d flown into a rage. A real rage.

  “Why can’t you be satisfied with what you have?” he’d demanded.

  “I am satisfied,” she said.

  “No, you are never satisfied. You always want more. More, more, more.”

  “More what?”

  “When you couldn’t have children, you wasted your bookkeeping income on those stupid fertility treatments. When the church didn’t have a daycare center, you felt it had to have one. Status quo is never good enough for you, Lena. And now you want to buy a house. A house that we can’t afford.”

  “But we can afford it,” she said. “With my down payment from Grandma’s estate, the monthly payments will be a lot less than rent.”

  “That’s what you think. But there’s upkeep and taxes and repairs, and the next thing I know you’ll want new furniture.”

  “But I love our furniture,” she assured him. “And owning a home is an investment. Every penny you put into it comes back to you.”

  He laughed . . . and walked away. “I don’t have time for your nonsense,” he said. “I need to work on Sunday’s sermon.”

  And Sunday’s sermon had been about the love of money and materialism and worshiping graven images like cars, boats, houses . . . By the end of his sermon, Lena had decided that, as usual, Daniel was right. It was wrong for her to want things – especially the sweet little cottage on Gardenia Lane. And it was wrong for her to daydream about the flowers she’d plant out front or the vegetable garden in back, and even more wrong for her to imagine painting her kitchen a nice, warm, buttery yellow. So she’d given in. Just like she’d always done, she’d submitted to the authority of a man who didn’t deserve it. And five days later, she’d been arrested for embezzling funds from the church.

  “Is that the lady?” Jemima jumped up and ran to the porch railing. “The one who’s taking us to church?”

  Lena stood and looked out to see a white sedan with a small gray-haired woman at the wheel. “Yes. That’s Mrs. Phillips.” She grabbed Jemima’s hand and hurried over to the car, helping the little girl into the back. “Now buckle up,” she told her as she closed the door and got into the passenger’s side.

  “Good morning,” Moira said.

  Lena greeted her then introduced her to Jemima.

  “It’s such a pleasure to take you girls to church with me,” she said as she looked both ways then slowly pulled out. “And I know Jemima is going to enjoy Sunday school. The children always seem to have so much fun.” She chattered on as she drove less than a mile to the old brick church. “Here we are.”

  “This is pretty close to Miller House,” Lena said as they got out of the car. “I could probably walk here.” />
  “Maybe on a nice warm day. But not today,” Moira said. “It’s too cold.”

  Soon they were inside and Moira was guiding them to the children’s wing, where she introduced Jemima to Miss Epperson.

  “She can call me April,” the young woman told Moira. “All the children do.” She smiled at Lena. “Are you Jemima’s mother?”

  “No,” Lena said quickly. “Just a friend.”

  “And what a good friend you are to bring her to church today.”

  Lena waved goodbye to Jemima, who was already in the classroom and heading straight for what appeared to be some kind of beading project. “I think Jemima’s happy to be here,” she said to Moira as they headed back down the hallway. “She probably needs to be around kids.”

  As they walked, Lena told Moira about how Jemima’s mother had just found a job. “I’m helping to watch Jemima for now, but I’m supposed to go to work tomorrow. I’m not sure where Jemima will be, and I know how much her mother needs that job.”

  “Well, perhaps someone here at church can help you with that,” Moira said as they entered the sanctuary. “This is where I usually sit.” Moira pointed to a pew not far from the front. “Be my guest.”

  Lena went a ways down the pew and soon they were both seated. “My late husband and I always sat here,” Moira said. “His parents had occupied this pew as well.” She chuckled. “Now, I don’t believe families should own any part of a church, but I suppose I consider this the Phillipses’ pew.”

  “Thank you for sharing it.” Lena smiled.

  “I do recall that you mentioned your husband had been a minister.”

  Lena bristled. “Yes. That’s true.”

  “So I imagine you’ve spent a fair amount of time in church.”

  Lena nodded.

  “Did you miss it while you were . . . away?”

  “Not really,” she answered. “In fact, I’m still a little surprised to find myself here today.”

  Moira patted her hand. “I understand.”

  The sanctuary was beginning to fill up. And it wasn’t long until Moira’s son, the lawyer, slid in next to his mother, along with a young woman. Or perhaps she was a teenager. Lena couldn’t be sure. But, on second glance, the tall, dark-haired girl didn’t seem very old.