The night before I was due to leave, I was in my room packing my few belongings when there was a knock at the door. I cursed under my breath. What did Ma want now? I opened the door roughly, but there stood Da. He shuffled his feet and nodded at me.

“Hello, daughter.”

I didn’t know what to do. Da had never visited my room before. I stood there like an eejit until I realized I should ask him in. He took off his cap and bowed his head as he stooped to fit through the door. I don’t know which of us was the more nervous.

Without saying a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small article wrapped in brown paper. He held it out to me, and I stared down at it.

“What is it, Da?”

“Open it, girl.”

My fingers shook as I unwrapped it. There, in the palm of my hand, lay Mrs. Shaw’s locket.

I gaped up at Da. “How did you know?”

“Your ma was after mentioning it last night and I guessed that’s what ye’d gone to Donegal to do. I went today and bought it back, so.”

Tears filled my eyes. “But the money, Da; where . . . ?

“Sure your ma will hardly miss one cow,” he said.

For a moment I thought I saw a twinkle in his eyes, but I told myself I was seeing things. Still, a warm feeling washed through me and I fought back tears. My da had done this for me, not for Delia. I had grown up believing Delia was his favorite and that I never counted at all with him. But now? Maybe I’d been wrong all along. Maybe he just thought I didn’t need his attention as much as Delia did. The old Nora would have shaken off the thought as sentimental palaver, but Mrs. Shaw had taught me to recognize and accept love, in whatever form it took.

Da was about to turn away when I reached over and put my arms around him. I buried my head in his chest and let my tears fall. He patted me on the back as you would a child, but said nothing. After a while he gently eased me away from him and looked at me with his faded gray eyes. “I know, child, I know,” he said, and then he was gone.

* * *

The next morning I fastened Mrs. Shaw’s locket around my neck once more, picked up my bags and left the cottage for good.

Shotgun City - 1913

Shotgun City

1913

Delia

Delia

A week later, Mayflower rushed into the house, all business.

“Get Lily ready,” she said. “We’re going on a trip.”

“Where to?” I said.

“It’s a surprise. You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Oh, I love surprises, Aunt May!” said Lily as she raced upstairs to get dressed.

“What’s this about, Mayflower?”