Chapter 2 #2
Duly they followed her up a narrow set of stairs to the second floor, which had four rooms, three of which Mrs. O’Malley told them were already let. The back bedroom was smaller, without as much sunlight, she explained, which was why she sometimes had trouble renting it.
Mrs. O’Malley opened the door and then stood aside to let them view the room in question.
It was small, Maggie acknowledged, especially for the three of them to share.
There was only one bed, barely wide enough for two and covered in a colorful but faded patchwork quilt, a dresser with a pitcher and washbasin in willow-patterned china, and a single ladder-backed chair in the corner.
She swallowed hard, wondering how on earth they would all sleep in such a small space.
“If you’d like,” Mrs. O’Malley said, “the boy can sleep in the box room behind the kitchen. It’s got a cot, and if he helps around the house, I’ll give it to you for a dollar a week.
This room is nine dollars, including meals.
” She smiled at them both, clearly expecting them to accept such a generous offer, while Maggie struggled to hide her horror.
If Danny was sleeping in the kitchen, then she and Brendan would be sharing this room, this bed, alone, very much like a married couple.
And despite the trepidation such a thought brought, she was not able to suppress the treacherous flicker of something almost like excitement that rippled through her, which infuriated her all the more, because she was so determined not to feel it.
She had chosen her course, and she did not want to deviate from it, no matter what the temptations.
“I assure you,” she told their landlady, “that it is not necessary for Danny to—”
“Aw, Maggie,” Danny protested. “I want my own room—”
Maggie turned her fierce gaze on her brother, willing him to be silent. “Hush, Danny,” she hissed, while a frown furrowed Mrs. O’Malley’s brow.
“I’m sure I don’t know a married couple who would refuse such an offer,” she remarked on an uncertain laugh, her gaze moving between Brendan and Maggie, eyes narrowing with dawning suspicion.
“And I assure you, we are very grateful for it,” Brendan said quickly. “We are pleased to accept. It’s only my wife wasn’t expecting such a kind gesture.”
And so Maggie had no choice but to silently fume as Mrs. O’Malley nodded her acceptance, and Brendan made the necessary arrangements for them to move into their new accommodation.
A few minutes later, Danny was making himself comfortable in the room off the kitchen and she and Brendan were alone in their room.
Maggie stood in its center silently, feeling furious and yet also guilty, because as much as she chafed against the masquerade she’d been forced into, she knew Brendan had been incredibly generous in providing an escape from New York as well as the start of a new life here.
She just didn’t want to have to accept his generosity—or have any need for it.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he told her tersely, his back to her as he laid their suitcase on the bed. “You need have no fear on that account.”
Maggie hesitated, knowing that it was unconscionable for him to sleep on the floor of a room he was paying—but what was the alternative? Brendan would never allow her to do so, and they simply could not share the bed.
“Thank you,” she finally said, unable to keep from sounding stiff. “As soon as we are able, Danny and I can look for other accommodation.”
He let out a huff of hard laughter and shook his head.
Belatedly, Maggie realized how ungrateful she’d sounded. “I only meant,” she tried to explain, “I wouldn’t want you to have to sleep on the floor any longer than necessary.”
Slowly he turned around, his normally pleasant, smiling face set into unsettlingly hard lines. “Is that what you really meant?” he asked in a tone that bordered on aggressive.
“I… I don’t know what you mean,” Maggie replied, discomfited. She had never seen Brendan looking so jaded.
He hesitated, seeming for a moment as if he might say something more, something she would have to brace herself for, but then he just shook his head, his expression turning weary once more, his hazel eyes shadowed, so he looked defeated rather than hardened, but it still left Maggie uneasy.
She had, she realized uncomfortably, come to rely on Brendan’s near-ceaseless good humor, that he’d shown all through the trials of their precipitous journey from New York.
“I recognize our circumstances are not to your liking,” he stated formally, “and I will do what I can to alleviate any discomfort, I assure you.”
Maggie couldn’t help but flinch. “You make me sound so ungrateful,” she told him on a shaky laugh, and Brendan’s mouth compressed.
“And that is my fault as well, I suppose?” he asked, and she blinked, recoiling from his tone, which had hardened once more.
“No. Brendan…” Maggie shook her head slowly.
“None of this is your fault, far from it. If the blame is to lie with anyone, then it should with me. I should have kept Danny better in hand.” Her voice caught and she forced herself to continue raggedly, “I never should have involved myself in the wretched schemes of that gang. I should have—”
“Hush, Maggie.” Brendan took a step toward her, almost as if he would embrace her, and Maggie knew right then she would have welcomed his touch, despite all her earlier reservations.
She would lean into the appealing shelter of his arms and rest her head upon his shoulder and, for a few moments, simply allow herself to be comforted and even loved.
But then Brendan stopped and simply stood where he was, his arms by his sides, his kind face full of weariness and regret, and Maggie pushed away any sense of loss at the lack of his touch.
“You must not blame yourself,” he said quietly. “You bear no responsibility for the acts of treachery and violence committed by that terrible gang.”
“But you’ve lost everything,” Maggie blurted. “Everything. And now we have to start over in this—this stinking city, and I don’t have a penny to my name—”
“Which annoys you in the extreme,” Brendan interjected, his tone too tender for Maggie to take offense.
“I know how much you despise being beholden to anyone for anything, and yet here you are, utterly dependent on me for every last thing.” He sighed.
“I am sorry for it, even if you don’t think I am.
The last thing I want to do is vex you, Maggie. ”
He smiled at her so sadly that Maggie’s heart ached with both regret and a reluctant affection. “I know,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, Brendan, for… for being so resentful, when I know I owe you only gratitude—”
“You don’t owe me anything,” he cut her off. “I wonder if you will ever believe that.” He sighed again and then shook his head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter now, we must simply make the best of what we have. Tomorrow I’ll look for work—”
“And what shall I do?” Maggie asked, unable to keep a slight note of asperity from her voice. “See to our home life?”
Brendan eyed her levelly, clearly noting her tone—and not liking it.
“For a day or two, to appease our landlady, you can attend to some domestic duties, surely?” he replied, and now he sounded sharp.
Their truce-like moment of solidarity had already been shattered, Maggie thought, and she knew it was her fault.
If only she hadn’t had all these tiresome restrictions placed on her!
She feared if she stopped fighting them, she would give in, and the rest of her life would be nothing but defeat.
“Is that too much to ask?” Brendan asked with a touch of impatience.
Maggie pressed her lips together, determined to hide her ire. “No,” she said as meekly as she could manage. “Of course not.”
But after two days, she vowed, she was looking for a job.