Chapter Seven
Roman had stayed up far too late the night before analyzing the market and making some predictions.
He tried not to sway his clients with those predictions, but they did help him stay on top and not be caught off guard with the fluctuations, so it was a valuable use of his time.
Unfortunately, he generally did forget to check the clock when he was that engrossed, and he felt the lack of sleep as he descended the stairs from his apartment to his office.
Louise looked up from her desk as he approached. “Another late night?”
“Yes. It always is when I get a telegram from New York.” One of his friends from his previous job made sure he was kept in the know even though he no longer lived in the area.
“Well, if I didn’t know you stayed out of the saloons, I’d think you’d had a few too many. You’ve got to take better care of yourself.”
“I know, and I keep telling myself that. Someday, I might even listen.” Someday when he no longer had this gnawing in his gut, this voice in the back of his mind telling him he would never make enough, he would never be enough, he would never have enough.
Those thoughts chased him all day and haunted him all night.
He could never rest until he was absolutely convinced he’d done everything in his power for his family.
He sat down behind his desk and studied the papers he’d left there the night before when he’d finally gone upstairs to bed.
A quick look told him the figures were correct, and he slid the papers into a folder that he placed in the top drawer of his desk.
He hadn’t seen anything too alarming in the recent trends, and he hadn’t sensed any reason for concern either.
His intuition was the main reason he’d been promoted so quickly in New York.
As strange as it sounded, he somehow felt the rise and fall of the numbers, and while he was wrong from time to time, for the most part, he’d helped his clients navigate those rough waters successfully.
With this new folder of information, he was ready to continue doing just that.
Louise tapped on his door a moment later. “You have visitors,” she said.
His mind immediately flew to Miss Smith, even though she was just one person and Louise had indicated more than one.
He was surprised when his heart gave a little thump of anticipation.
When was the last time he’d found himself looking forward to seeing a young lady?
Had he ever felt that way? “Show her in, please,” he said, then corrected himself.
“Show them in.” Maybe Miss Smith had brought her parents with her today.
He was a little disappointed when instead of Miss Smith, Lacy and Timothy entered the room, but that disappointment faded quickly.
He was always genuinely glad to see his brother and sister.
“Come in,” he said, standing up and motioning to the chairs across from his desk.
“Couldn’t wait until Sunday to see me, huh? Are you out doing your shopping today?”
Lacy sat down and folded her hands on her lap. Timothy wandered over to the window instead, looking out impatiently as though he’d rather be anywhere but there. “No, Roman, we couldn’t wait. There’s something . . . Well, it’s best if Timothy tells you himself.”
Roman slowly lowered himself back into his chair. He’d noticed how tightly Lacy’s fingers were intertwined, the stiff way she moved. This wasn’t a casual visit, not the way a brother and sister would drop by just to say hello. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Is something wrong with Mother?”
“No. Not in the traditional sense,” Lacy replied. “Timothy, please come over here and talk to him.”
Timothy rolled his eyes. “Fine. Fine.” He crossed the floor and dropped into the other chair. “Here I am, right where you wanted me to be.”
Roman could smell the alcohol on his brother’s breath even though several feet separated them. Louise had said Roman looked like he’d been drinking—Timothy really had been. “Would either of you care to tell me what’s going on?”
Timothy wouldn’t meet his eye. “I messed up, all right? I made a mistake, and Lacy’s angry with me.”
“It’s more than a mistake. It’s . . . it’s a long series of mistakes compounded daily.” Lacy shook her head, clearly agitated. “And it’s ridiculous to say that I’m angry with you as though that’s the only issue—if only I were to be more forgiving.”
Roman lifted both hands. “Details, please.” If they kept this up, he’d never know what was going on.
“Timothy has been staying out late every night because he’s been gambling at the Lucky Break Saloon,” Lacy said. “Gambling and drinking and who knows what else.”
“Oh, no doubt you could find something else to blame me for,” Timothy said. “Once someone is gambling and drinking, the next step is hellfire for sure.”
“Would you please . . .” Lacy pulled in a deep breath. “It’s gotten so far out of hand that Timothy has been taking the money you’ve given Mother for her expenses and has lost it at the card table. He’s currently in debt for two hundred dollars beyond that, and he’s in some real trouble.”
Roman was unable to speak for a moment. “Gambling?” he said when he finally drew enough breath. “You’ve been gambling away Mother’s money?”
“You always bring her more—she has plenty. I don’t think she’s even missed it.”
“That’s not the point!” Roman couldn’t believe this change of attitude he saw in his brother.
Timothy had always been a sweet, compliant child, eager to help with chores and rarely complaining about their meager circumstances.
The man who sat across from Roman now was belligerent, self-centered, and coarse. “How long has this been going on?”
“About two years, more or less. Why does it matter?” Timothy flicked a thread from his trouser leg. “There’s nothing for me here. I don’t have any friends—I want to go back to Albany. At least there I knew some people.”
“You started gambling because you’re bored?”
Timothy came to his feet. “What else is there to do? I go to work, I come home—that’s it. That’s all. At least I’m keeping myself somewhat entertained.”
“But that’s not entertainment. That’s dangerous, as you’re seeing right now. You owe someone two hundred dollars?” He turned to Lacy. “When did you learn of this?”
“Just last night. A man followed Timothy home and they spoke in the yard, and I overheard the conversation. I told Timothy he had no choice but to come see you today and come clean.”
“How . . . how did you let it go this far, Tim?” Roman was trying to maintain his composure, but that was becoming more difficult by the minute. Timothy didn’t even seem to care what he’d done.
“Not all of us bounced back as well as you did, all right?” Timothy brought his hand down on the desk, making Lacy jump.
“You went off and got your fancy New York job and left us behind, and then you moved us clear out here, away from everything familiar to us, and you expected us to adjust, to be glad about the changes. You forgot what it was like back at home, how hard it was, but you also forgot that we were at least somewhat happy. We pulled together. We made things work.”
“You’re not making any sense, Timothy,” Lacy interjected.
“You’re angry because we had nothing, but you’re also angry because Roman did something about it?
Mother was doing her best, but we were sinking.
We were drowning. If Roman hadn’t gone to New York, if he hadn’t started sending us money, you and I might have ended up separated, shipped off to live with strangers while Mother was sent to the poorhouse.
Surely that’s not what you would have wanted. ”
Timothy didn’t answer. He flopped back into his chair, folding his arms across his chest.
Roman rubbed his jaw. How could he respond to any of this?
Leaving his family behind was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he’d reunited with them as soon as he possibly could.
Lacy was right—Timothy’s argument made no sense, but his feelings were clearly eating him alive.
“What should I have done instead, Tim?” he asked quietly, hoping to turn the tide of this conversation away from anger and toward a solution.
“You should have taken me with you! You shouldn’t have left me behind like Father did!”
And there it was—the kernel of truth that lay underneath it all.
This wasn’t a time for logic or reasoning. No amount of it would reach his brother’s wounded heart
“I’m sorry,” Roman said. “I’m sorry that I left you.
Believe me, I cried as I walked away. I cried every night for weeks as I was falling asleep.
But what helped me was knowing I could finally do something to help you.
Those first several months when I could only send a few cents from time to time—it was hardly anything, but I knew I was making a difference.
I knew you were being fed. I knew you had more of what you needed.
That’s why I left. I left because I couldn’t stand the thought that you were hungry. ”
“Being hungry isn’t the worst feeling in the world,” Timothy said. “Being lonely is.”
Roman sat back in his chair, a heavy weight landing on his chest. “If I had been able to come up with any other way to fix the problem, I would have. I didn’t want to leave, but we don’t always get what we want in this life.
In fact, we very rarely do. I’m sorry I hurt you.
I truly am. But I’m not sorry for finding ways to make more money and to create an actual future for our family.
How could I feel bad about that when there was very little chance of our making it any other way?
We didn’t have choices. Mother was exhausting herself.
No one was stepping forward to help us. We had to help ourselves, and as the oldest boy, that meant I had to take that load on my shoulders. So I did.”
“And we’re grateful for that,” Lacy said.
“You should have seen Mother’s face when your first letter from New York arrived.
I think you sent three pennies that time, but it could have been a million dollars from the way she reacted.
It was so much more than the money, though.
She was proud of you for your courage and grateful for what you were doing. ”
Roman swallowed, his throat having gone tight from these unexpected emotions. “There’s nothing we can do about the past now,” he said. “How do we fix what’s happening now? Who is this man you owe, Tim? How are you going to get him paid?”
“I guess I thought I’d keep taking it from Mother,” Timothy answered, his eyes once again glued to the floor. “She keeps her money in a tin on the kitchen shelf.”
“Not anymore,” Roman said. “She should get herself a much better hiding place.”
“You aren’t going to tell her about this, are you?” Timothy’s gaze shot up to meet Roman’s. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I just . . . well, I just think she doesn’t have to know.”
“She knows something’s wrong,” Lacy said. “She pretends to be oblivious, but she’s no fool. Wouldn’t it be best to come clean with her, to be honest so you can repair the things that have been broken between you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I can.” Timothy’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “We should keep her out of it. She’s been through enough. Please, Roman. Don’t tell her.”
Roman’s head was now pounding. What was the best choice in a situation like this?
He wanted to protect his mother, but he also wanted to do right by his brother, and that’s where the water became murky.
Was it right to save his brother from himself, or to make him face the consequences of his actions?
In the end, mercy won out.
He reached into his desk drawer and withdrew two hundred dollars.
His clients often brought in cash, and he hadn’t been over to the bank in a little while.
“I want you to pay off your debt,” he said, handing the money to his brother.
“Get out of trouble, and stop getting into it. If you’ll make me this promise, I won’t tell Mother.
” He took another twenty dollars and handed it to Lacy.
“Put this in Mother’s tin, please, sometime when she isn’t looking.
And see if you can convince her to hide it somewhere else. ”
“Of course.” Lacy took the money and put it in the small drawstring bag that dangled from her wrist.
“What do you say, Tim? Do we have a deal?”
Timothy nodded, shoving the money into his pocket.
As his brother and sister left, Roman felt the weight on his chest settle in even deeper.
He’d believed that if he could just earn enough money, he’d be able to solve all his family’s problems. Had he been wrong?
Had he damaged them further by choosing the path he’d taken?
But how could he regret trying to do right by them?
His head was getting no better. He grabbed his hat and left, saying over his shoulder, “I’m taking a walk, Louise. I’ll be back in time for my next appointment.”
“All right,” she replied, but he barely heard her. His thoughts were in too much turmoil.