not been outside since the day on the lake, and my eyes were glued to the familiar landscape. The population in Ireland had not grown in a hundred years, leaving the scenery mostly unchanged generation after generation.
“Are you worried someone might recognize you?” Thomas answered, his tone quizzical.
“I am,” I admitted, meeting his eyes briefly.
“You aren’t from Sligo. Few will know you. And those who do . . .” He shrugged, not finishing his sentence, his eyes shifting away from me in contemplation. Thomas Smith didn’t bite his lip or wrinkle his brow when he stewed. His face was perfectly still, as though he thought so deeply, no echoes crossed his face or marred his features. It was odd, really, that in a matter of days, I’d come to recognize his posture, the way he stooped with his head slightly bowed and his features quiet. Had Eoin learned his ways? Was that why I knew Thomas Smith so well? Had Eoin absorbed the habits of the man who had stepped into his life and raised the boy Declan had left fatherless? I recognized little similarities—the wide stance, the downcast eyes, the outward calm, and the unruffled ruminations. The resemblances made me long for my grandfather.
Without thinking, I reached for Eoin’s hand. His blue eyes shot to mine, and his hand tightened and trembled. Then he smiled, a toothy revelation that eased one longing and gave rise to another.
“I’m a little afraid to go shopping,” I whispered near his ear. “If you hold my hand, it will help me be brave.”
“Nana loves the shops. Don’t you?”
I did. Usually. But the fear in my belly, magnified by the thought of corsets with hanging straps, strange clothes, and my complete dependence on Thomas grew, as Sligo appeared in the distance. I looked around me in wonder, trying to find the cathedral to orient myself. My chest began to burn.
“I have earrings . . . and a ring. I think both would sell for a good price,” I blurted and then thought better of my statement. I really knew nothing about the ring. I pushed the thought from my head and tried again.
“I have some jewelry. I’d like to sell it so that I have some money of my own. Could you help me with that, Thomas?”
“Don’t worry your head about money,” Thomas clipped, eyes forward.
A country doctor paid in chickens and piglets or bags of potatoes couldn’t be completely unconcerned with money, and the worry coiled deeper.
“I want money of my own,” I insisted. “I’ll need to find employment too.” Employment. Dear God. I’d never had a job. I’d been writing stories from the moment I could form a sentence. And writing wasn’t a job. Not for me.
“You can assist me,” Thomas said, his jaw still tight, eyes on the road.
“I’m not a nurse!” Was I? Was she?
“No. But you’re capable of following directions and giving me a spare set of hands every now and again. That’s all I need.”
“I want money of my own, Thomas. I will buy my own clothes.”
“Nana says you should call Thomas Dr. Smith,” Eoin said, inserting himself into the conversation. “And she says he should call you Mrs. Gallagher.”
We were silent. I had no idea what to say.
“But your nana is Mrs. Gallagher too. That would be confusing, wouldn’t it?” Thomas replied. “Plus, Anne was my friend before she was Mrs. Gallagher. Do you call your friend Miriam Miss McHugh?”
Eoin covered his mouth, but a snort of laughter gurgled out. “Miriam isn’t a miss! She’s a pest,” he crowed.
“Yes . . . well, so is Anne.” Thomas looked at me and looked away, but his eyebrows quirked, softening his words.
“Is there a jeweler or a pawnbroker in Sligo?” I insisted, not willing to let the matter go, pest or not. Were they even called pawnbrokers in 1921? The hysteria continued to build inside me.
Thomas sighed, and we bounced down the deeply rutted road. “I have three patients to see. None of the stops will take me long, but I will drop you and Eoin—stay close to your mother, Eoin, and help her—on lower Knox Street. There’s a pawnbroker next to the Royal Bank. Daniel Kelly. He’ll be fair with you. When you’re done, walk up to Lyons department store. You should be able to get everything you need there.”
Eoin was bouncing on the seat between us, obviously thrilled at the mention of the department store.
“I will meet you there when I’m finished,” Thomas promised.