stunting her joy. “It doesn’t interfere with your regular duties. And second, you don’t dare make all those dead parents out to be martyrs.”
She would agree to both, of course, though the oddity of the latter caused her to hedge.
The chief added with reluctance, “My father drank away near every cent we had before putting himself in the grave. We made out just fine, me and my brothers, but only on account of my mother. We clear on that?”
Lily was stricken by the personal nature of the admission. Even more so, she was astounded by the connections to be made.
For now, she managed to reply, “Completely. Thank you, Chief.”
He simply nodded and resumed his work.
• • •
Today, no challenge in life could temper Lily’s thrill, for this reason: If she could accomplish one seemingly insurmountable task, why not others?
As an added boost, a story broke in the paper. On a recent radio broadcast, Mrs. Lindbergh had made a personal appeal about her kidnapped son, including how to care for him and what baby foods he most enjoyed—right in line with Lily’s suggestion that the chief had waved off. But that didn’t matter now. The broadcast had led to a tip about a suspicious, childless couple who’d just stocked up on those exact food items. Authorities were optimistic.
How wondrous would it be if both families wound up reunited?
On her lunch date with Clayton, after celebrating news about her column, she would speak to him about the Dillards. He was, after all, an ace reporter. It was time to seek his advice—in confidence, of course. She would have to trust that his strict views on right and wrong, on good and bad, wouldn’t prevent him from doing all he could to help.
She later told herself this as they settled into a cushioned booth at Geoffrey’s. The restaurant was on the top floor of a twelve-story building, affording an impressive view of City Hall and William Penn standing tall in bronze. With damask linens and single roses in etched, crystal vases, the restaurant was even lovelier than the Renaissance.
The thought of their forgotten date still caused Lily twists of guilt.
But all of that faded, along with their surroundings—the clinking of ice and tinkering of china, the chattering among diners in their daytime finery—at the announcement of a job offer.
Only it wasn’t Lily’s.
“My, Clayton,” she said. “The national desk.” The waiter had only just stepped away after taking their orders. “That’s marvelous.”
Clayton brightened. “It’s the Chicago Tribune,” he said, throwing her off further.
“Chicago?”
“You know I grew up there,” he reminded her, “and how I’ve always wanted to go back.”
“Yes. Certainly. I remember.” She hadn’t known he meant so soon.
“That’s why I’ve been gone so many weekends lately. With my parents down in southern Illinois now, I needed to go back on my own, to check out areas to live in. Make sure it really made sense.” His expression took a turn, growing serious. “Lily, I want you and Samuel to come.”
“To…Chicago?” She repeated the name again as if it were an alien planet, and Clayton laughed a little at her confusion. Or maybe from a touch of his own nerves, she noted, as he pulled a shiny gold ring from his suit pocket.
“Sweetheart, I want you to marry me.” After the briefest pause, he added with conviction, “And I want to care for Samuel as my own son.”
Lily took in a light gasp. The proposal alone was enough to stun her. The consideration given to her child only multiplied that effect as he continued. “You’d never have to work again. You could be home with him every day, all day. No more buses, no waiting to see him on the weekends. We could be a real family.”
From the row of tall windows, light glinted on the diamond at the center of the band, perfect and round and lovely. In its reflection she envisioned the life he was offering. She saw a home of their very own and a future full of promise.
“I know it’s a bit of a surprise, but a good one I hope.” His tone matched the rising worry in his soft-brown eyes, exposing a vulnerable side of him she had never seen. Moved by this, and so much more, Lily hastened to respond.
“It’s incredible, Clayton. All of it.” As a smile spread over her lips, his did the same but at an angle she recognized. The kind brimming with an assuredness that made others feel safe.