Wishes

Twelve came and went. My clasped hands rested nervously on my lap while I waited in deceitful calmness. Then I saw her. Her dyed platinum blonde hair, slim nose, and high cheekbones couldn't be mistaken for another. Though I had accepted my fate long ago, the admiration and jealousy from childhood were rediscovered. 

"Anne?" She sat beside me, letting out a quiet complaint when she touched the sun-heated bench with her ungloved hand. 

"Mrs. Philips," I kept my head down, "thank you for seeing me."

"Sure, but don't you talk like that." She raised one brow. "It makes me uncomfortable. I'm no different from the Lizzie you knew."

I had known her since we were small. Long ago, when the Murphy family was Mrs. Bedford's neighbor, I spent most of my time with the Murphy sisters since none of us had others to play with. The neighborhood children avoided the Mongol and the sisters from that family that had an infamous reputation. However, there wasn't much to recall about the brothers, for they were rarely seen. I vaguely remembered being mesmerized by Thomas, who spoke few words but always seemed to have himself well put together. As for Laurie, I had only seen him as a blurry figure through the second-story window when he was occasionally allowed to sit by it. He was a rather sickly child growing up. Perhaps that had led to his gaunt build in adulthood.

"I'm delighted to see you," I said politely, still wouldn't dare to look directly at her. I wasn't scared of her. I feared myself.

"It was just after the war since we last spoke. Now it's 27'." She offered me a cigarette from her silver and gold holder. "I look forward to 1930. It's going to change for the better, don't you think?"

"Of course." I cleared my throat, forced myself to look her in the eye, and left her hand in the air. "Thank you, but I quit smoking."

She measured me up and down before she curled her lip. She lit the cigarette for herself: "I see time's hard on you. It must've taken you some courage to ring me. I got worried when you said you'd appreciate some help. Anne Bedford never asked for help. If you did when Mrs. Bedford died, you'd be in a better place now."

"It's been difficult." I bit my dry bottom lip and agreed with her.

"You see, I thought you'd be something revolutionary for a woman." She puffed and proceeded to blow the smoke at me. "A scientist, maybe, or a doctor. Hell, perhaps even a lawyer. Be some sort of the first of your kind."

"Then I presume you also know," I swallowed, staring expressionlessly at her, leaving any remaining pride behind, "that I left the county and got married in Chicago. It's Anne Ferguson now. And here I am."

"I wouldn't call that a smart move. Although staying in the Red Lantern House wouldn't have been any better either." She smacked her lips, not giving me any chance to speak. "You said he left, didn't you? And now you are a barmaid in Venice."

"The Woodpeckers." In devastation, I no longer cared for her tone. I needed her. She was ruthless with her words, and I lowered my head again. 

"My father's right about one thing." She squinted. "You can't have emotions attached to anyone while trying to survive in this business. Or…"

"Or?"

Once more, she blew the smoke at me.

"There's no need to be so derogatory, Mrs. Philips." I turned back to stare directly into her eyes. I didn't particularly like raising my voice. 

"Please, you don't get to use that tone on me." She scoffed. "Someone who's an orphan, a whore, and an outlaw like you doesn't get to speak to me like that."

"And you need someone who was a whore and an outlaw," I said firmly. "I'm well aware of what your family does for a living. Prohibition has done you good, but you still need someone who knows the rules. Hence, you came here today, isn't it, Mrs. Philips?"

She laughed as she took a long drag.

-----

Clarence was pacing anxiously in the foyer when Thomas and I stepped into the Bel Air House. Time for a change, I remembered my husband said in a worryingly ecstatic tone, I reckon you wouldn't want to live among Inka's memories in Angelino Heights. He was right. I didn't. I had never met Inka, for she died a few months before I was brought into the family. 

 I had heard bits and pieces about her from Lizzie, who appeared to be quite fond of her. Thomas rarely spoke of her name. When I had a chance to inquire, he said they had married young. The deficit in knowledge of my predecessor terrified me. I knew he loved and cherished her, so in that way, his vow to me could've never been kept. 

 Not that I ever expected it to be kept.

 "Can I talk to you?" Clarence walked up to his father without acknowledging me, "Privately."

 I took off my hat and headed upstairs. 

-----

After being brought in, I stayed in the guest house in Angelino Heights for a while. With the price of caring for his children, Thomas let me take residence there. He didn't trust his house staff, though he managed to trust me without a proper reason. Clarence was ten when his mother died, and over time, he built a respectful relationship with me until it became clear that his father intended to marry me in 1932. He was fifteen then, and I couldn't blame him for resenting someone he thought to have the ambition to replace his mother. 

"Mommy!" Flynn yelled. He ran to me from down the hall and met me at the top of the stairs.

"Hey you," I knelt to hug him, "did you have a good day?"

"Yes!" The little man nodded in seriousness before he lowered his head.

"What's wrong?" I frowned.

"Promise me you won't tell Clarence." He said quietly and extended his pinky. "Pinky promise."

"Pinky promise." I smiled. 

"Harper and I drew today." He stared at his toes as he twirled the hem of his shirt, "Harper drew all of us, even father! Clarence saw it and took the paper away. He said…"

The seven-year-old began sobbing. I pulled him in. 

"It's all right, go on."

"He said you aren't our mommy, and we should be old enough to know that already." The innocent child sobbed a little louder. 

I expected this day to come, but not this soon. Harper and Flynn were still too young. Harper was two, and Flynn was only a few months when I came into their lives. I was the only mother they knew, even though I never wanted to be their mother.

Harper was found sitting on his bed, upset and defeated. His face lit up when he saw who was at the door. But that brief excitement failed to last. Usually, he'd run to me and hug me when I was back from my errands. But not today. Today, the talkative child was strangely quiet. 

I put down Flynn, held his hand, and walked to Harper's side. Flynn climbed onto the bed, and I knelt on the ground. The troublesome doodle lay in pieces on the hardwood floor.

"I'm sorry." Harper sniffled. In the eyes he unmistakably inherited from his father shone guilt, "I wanted to surprise you."

"There's no need to be sorry." I grabbed his hand and gently squeezed it, then I took Flynn's hand as well. "You boys listen to me. I care for you both. No matter what people say, I will always care for you. Perhaps you'll think otherwise one day, and that's all right. Remember, I will be your mother as long as you want me to."

-----

Clarence was leaning against the banister a few steps away, and I could tell he was waiting for me. I cleared my throat to make my presence known and asked if I could help him with anything. 

"Where's Mary?" He was accusatory. "Did you let her go?"

"No. And I don't know where she is." I shrugged. "Wouldn't you be the one to know?"

"I want in." He swallowed and quickly changed the topic to what he wanted to speak to me about. 

"Shouldn't you ask your father for that kind of permission?" I frowned and stepped to stand in front of him. 

"I did," he crossed his arms. "He said I need to ask you since you oversee that."

"You want to be in the out-takes?"

"Is that how you call it?" He raised his eyebrows in dismay. 

"Lizzie named it," I said. "And is that something you want to be in?"

"That's what I said. Which word couldn't you understand?" He sneered. 

"I heard you fine," I said quietly but sternly. "I'm afraid I can't let you put yourself out there. You are too young to be in this kind of work. I suggest you ask your father about a suitable position in the office."

"I'm going to be eighteen in a month." He wasn't deterred. "I know you hire men my age. Why not me? Is it because you are trying to act like my mother?"

"No," I answered firmly. "As I said, you're too young."

"You'll never be our mother. Remember that. You are an outsider, and you'll always be one." He narrowed his eyes. "Just wait until Harper and Flynn are older. They'll resent you as much as I do."

"You can't intimidate me into giving you work, Clarence," I said calmly. "I'm not your mother and won't ever try to be. Although let your brothers decide what they want, won't you? Now, excuse me."

"You're going to regret it," he yelled as he watched me heading downstairs, "Ferguson."