Janet Barton - Somewhere to Call Home

“Thank you, Mrs. Heaton. It is good to see you again.” An understatement to be sure. It warmed her heart to see the older woman’s familiar face.

“I am sorry I’m a bit late.” Mrs. Heaton shook her head and the green feathers on top of her blue hat bobbled to and fro. “Traffic is just awful today, and I’m so glad Michael came with me. Hopefully, it won’t be so bad on the way home.”

At the mention of her son, Violet looked over Mrs. Heaton’s shoulder to see a man that looked very familiar, but so much...more, striding toward them. Dressed in a navy blue suit, a wing-collar white shirt and a blue silk cravat, his dark brown hair covered with a gray bowler, the young man she’d known back home seemed to have become a mature businessman. His warm brown eyes had an expression in them that made her wonder if he were as surprised at the changes in her as she was at his.

“Violet, how good it is to see you,” Michael said, taking her gloved hand in his. “If Mother hadn’t been talking to you, I’m not sure I would have recognized you. You’ve grown up since I last saw you.”

If anything, Michael Heaton was even more handsome than Violet remembered. “I could say the same for you, Michael. It’s so good to see you both.”

“Mother has been looking forward to your arrival very much. She’s been fussing over your room for days.”

She slipped her hand from his and turned toward his mother. “Oh, you shouldn’t have gone to any trouble, Mrs. Heaton.”

“I’ve enjoyed every minute, Violet. I hope you’ll like it and feel right at home.”

Michael quickly took charge, and before Violet knew what had happened, he’d procured a man to fetch her bags and help carry them through the huge building. She barely registered walking across the marble floor and outside, as she dodged first one and then another person hurrying to or from the trains.

Michael helped them get seated in the hack waiting right outside for them, and once they were settled and he took his seat, Violet said, “Thank you for meeting me at the station. I’m not sure I would have known what to do otherwise.” She shook her head and chuckled. “I’ve never seen so many people in one place. Or such hustle and bustle.”

“The city can be intimidating at first. And for a woman alone, I’m sure it’s quite frightening,” Michael said.

As the driver flipped the reins and steered his hack out onto the street and into the traffic, Violet could well believe the city would overwhelm her for years to come.

Once they were on their way, Mrs. Heaton turned to her. “I am so very sorry about your loss, my dear. Your mother was like a sister to me, and while I know your loss is greater than mine, I will miss her tremendously.” The older woman patted her hand as tears gathered in her eyes.

Violet’s heart warmed at her sincerity. “Thank you. She missed you sorely after you left. She looked forward to each of your letters, and I read them over and over to her when she couldn’t read them herself anymore.”

Mrs. Heaton dabbed at her eyes with the delicate handkerchief she pulled from her sleeve. “I’m so glad your mother and I stayed close through our correspondence. I know these last few months must have been grueling for you, dear, but I want you to know you have a place with me for as long as you need it.”

Violet swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. The very day she’d walked out of Harlan Black’s office, she’d written a letter accepting Mrs. Heaton’s offer to help in any way she could and telling her why. In the two weeks since, she’d been so consumed with getting ready for the move and getting out of town without letting Harlan suspect what she was doing, she hadn’t had time to even grieve. The woman’s kind words were like balm to her battered heart. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much your kindness means to me.”

Mrs. Heaton gave a brisk nod, as if to dismiss the sad thoughts. “I’m just glad to have you here with us.”

Violet began to relax. She was here among friends—even though she barely recognized Michael. Just seeing him stride across the depot toward her had taken her breath away. Sitting across from him now, she tried to keep from stealing glances at him as he and his mother pointed out different sights to her.

She wasn’t even sure she saw half of all the sights since she closed her eyes each time another horse-drawn vehicle seemed bent on running them down, just before it stopped or turned on another street. She’d never seen so many different modes of travel in her life. Mrs. Heaton pointed out omnibuses, landaus and the trolley.

“Traveling in the city is a bit harrowing the first few times,” Michael said. “But you’ll get used to it.”

“Thankfully, Grand Central isn’t far from Gramercy Park, where our home is located. We’ll have plenty of time to show you the sights and teach you the best way to get around, once you’re settled,” Mrs. Heaton said.

Violet wasn’t sure she’d ever learn how to get around and was more than a little relieved when the hack pulled up outside a nice four-story brownstone on the corner of a quiet residential street. A small sign outside read Heaton House.

“We’re home, dear,” Mrs. Heaton said, patting her hand. “This is my boardinghouse.”

Michael and the driver took Violet’s baggage to the door, which was quickly opened wide by a young woman near her own age. She was slightly plump and wearing an apron and cap, her blond hair curling out from under it.

“I was getting worried, ma’am,” she said as Michael and the driver brought Violet’s trunk and bags into the foyer.

The foyer was wide and long, the floors polished until they gleamed. A long table with a vase of fresh flowers in the center of it and a holder for calling cards stood against one wall. There were several hat racks and coatracks on the opposite wall, and Violet assumed they got a lot of use when all the boarders were there.

“The traffic was quite heavy today, Gretchen.” Mrs. Heaton took off her hat and put it on the rack. “This is Violet Burton, a dear friend from home and our new boarder. Violet, this is Gretchen Finster. She and her sister, Maida, help me out in the house and the kitchen Monday through Friday, and then on Saturdays and Sundays one goes home and the other stays to help with meals and the boarders’ laundry. I don’t know what I’d do without the two of them.”

“How do you do, Miss Burton?” Gretchen’s smile was welcoming.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Now that they were out of the traffic and congestion, she felt much better. “It’s nice to meet you, Gretchen.”

“Come, let me give you a quick tour of downstairs while Michael and Gretchen take your bags to your room,” Mrs. Heaton said.

“I’ll see you later at dinner, Violet. I must get back to work for a while,” Michael said.

“I’m sorry I interrupted your day, I—”

“I was glad to take some time to come greet you, and we’re glad to have you here.” He kissed his mother on the cheek and smiled at Violet before heading up the stairs with Gretchen following.

“See you later, dear.”

“I’ll try to get home early,” Michael said just as he disappeared on the landing.

Violet forced her thoughts off Michael and back to Mrs. Heaton as the woman turned and pointed to the right of the foyer. “This is the front parlor, Violet. Some, if not all, of the boarders gather here most evenings before and after dinner.”

The room was quite lovely and large, with a piano in one corner and at least two very comfortable-looking parlor suites covered in a plush burgundy color, along with several rocking chairs upholstered in a gold-and-burgundy stripe, stationed around the room. The draperies were of the same material as the rocking chairs. She would have liked to look closer at the paintings and portraits on the wall, the framed pictures on the tables, but there wasn’t time before Mrs. Heaton led her across the hall to the dining room.