IRISH CHAIN (a Retreat to Love bonus story)
(This is Ashlyn's story of how Gran met Pappa. It's not a spoiler, so you can read it and whet your appetite for the rest of Ashlyn's story in RETREAT TO LOVE.)
Ellis Island - image via old-picture.com
1928 Houston DNC ticket - image via
kevincmurphy.com
Gran’s name, before she was Darlin’ and Mum and Gran, was Maura Fitzpatrick. She was born on Fool’s Day in Ireland, 1922, the fifth child of Dermot and Katie Fitzpatrick. By the time she was six, when her parents packed them all off to the States, there were still five children but Maura was the middle one. Eight-year-old Albert she barely remembered, but even on her sixty-fifth birthday she was telling the story of the time her sister Berneen, only eleven months her elder, had taught four-year-old Maura to whistle and gotten them both in trouble for whistling the Ave Maria instead of singing it at Mass. That was only the winter before Albert and Berneen drowned in what to Maura was only ever described as a random act of the Lord.
Of the boat journey, she remembered mostly how she spent the month after it not being able to fall asleep without her mother taking her into the rocking chair and humming until she was limp enough to be carried to bed without starting. All of her life, travel by car, train, or boat, no matter how rocky, would send Gran into a fast sleep. She knew how to drive, but would only get behind the wheel in extreme cases, as when she had to drive my mother to the hospital to give birth to me. After Pappa died, she sold their car to the next-door neighbors, for a thousand under Blue Book and Mr. and Mrs. Weimer’s promise they’d be there to transport her in a pinch.
Maura’s family wasn’t planning on making their home in Texas. A friend from Rosslare had told Maura’s father about a comfortable and trustworthy rooming house on Houston Street. But it was June of ‘28 and when Dermot asked for the best way to Houston at Grand Central’s ticket window, the clerk assumed they meant Texas, for the Democratic National Convention New Yorkers were headed to en masse. As the skyline faded away, and Katie expressed her concern, Danny, who was just ten and sick of the constant bustle since coming in to Ellis Island, burst into tears and said he wouldn’t get off the train to go back to that city.
A Texan on the train, Douglas Cathrow, told my great-grandparents stories of the benefits of Houston until they agreed to continue with their journey. He even had a brother, Stephen, who owned a hotel in Houston, and promised he’d be able to find Maura’s father a job, what with the influx of convention-goers. The hotel would be booked up for the convention, but Cathrow had a guesthouse the Fitzpatrick’s could stay in until it was over and they could then take rooms at the Arlington or find a place of their own.
It was a hard offer to refuse; Cathrow was just so concerned for them, and he had Danny and Brian falling over each other to answer questions about the crossing, and Katie said later she could tell by the look in Dermot’s eye he was actually relieved to be somewhere other than the impossible business that had been New York.
Not that Houston for the convention was much better. Worse, really, if you factored in the heat. But they arrived with a lifeline in place. Stephen Cathrow turned out to be equally as kind as his brother, if more reserved. Dermot eventually became concierge of the Arlington, and the boys, when they were old enough, worked as waiters and at the bar.
It was at the Arlington that Maura celebrated her fifteenth birthday by joining in the Fool’s Day celebration at the ground floor pub. Brian was the head bartender by then, at nineteen, and her other brother, Danny, who would be seventeen that same month, was in charge of the inventory. Maura convinced her parents that with her big brothers there to mind her, they could allow her a night out without their protection.
A good crowd was gathered around the bar. Not all of them were Irish, but the Virginian Bar had become something of a draw for the local Paddys, thanks to Mr. Fitzpatrick and his gregarious friends Mr. Donnell and Mr. Maguire. Fool’s Day was just a pretense to gather, although Brian and the other bartender did occasionally pull a lager instead of a stout or replace whiskey with tinted water for unsuspecting customers. Brian made sure Maura was seated at the quieter end of the bar with her friend Thelma, and gave them both glasses of cider.
Thelma was eyeing the crowd from her secluded vantage. “I’ll wager more than one lovely young man comes in here tonight,” she said, making a face at the unexpectedly bitter taste of the cider.
Maura took a half mouthful of her drink, and wondered if it would be too childish of her to ask her brother for a tonic water instead. “You may as well forget about it. If anyone talks to us, Danny will be here in three seconds. Just look at himself over there, pretending to dry glasses.” She made a face at Danny, who immediately rolled his eyes up and turned away.
“Well, if he comes over here, I’ll just distract him and you can slip away and introduce yourself to that one over there.”
“Which one?” Maura blushed.
“The tall skinny fella with the sandy hair you’ve been not looking at since he came in with old Maguire’s boys.” Thelma nudged her. “I wouldn’t blame you for noticing. If I wasn’t busy looking at your Danny I’d notice myself.”
Maura ducked behind her glass to hide her laughter. “Thelma! Why didn’t you just tell me? I’ll have him over here before you can blink.”
Thelma clutched at her arm. “No! I’m not really looking. Just you said how he’s watching us, that’s all. I was keeping an eye out he leaves us alone.”
Despite being dainty, blonde, and clever, Thelma had never even held a boy’s hand. Maura knew she’d been asked on walks and to socials since she was thirteen, but had never responded to any advances. Her parents hardly bothered to worry about men around Thelma, since she only ever wanted to spend her time reading or with Maura and Bessie, their other best friend. And glancing back at Danny, Maura caught how he had to take his eyes off Thelma before he noticed her standing up and heading towards him.
“I’ll be back, don’t worry,” she told Thelma.
Danny met her halfway across the room. “What are you doing, leaving her alone? It’s all right for you, you know your way about, but what if something happened to Thelma?”
“I was just coming over to ask you would you mind sitting with her a few minutes? I need to go up to the room for just a moment.” Danny started to say something, probably to challenge her as usual, but looked past her at Thelma and closed his mouth. “I’ll be back, don’t worry,” she repeated, and gave him a nudge towards the end of the bar before stepping outside.
The Virginian had a main entrance from the street, and a side door into the lobby of the Arlington marked Hotel Patrons Only. Maura pushed through the beveled glass and started towards the staircase. Her family had rooms on the third floor, but she thought she could manage to go back to Danny and Thelma after a few minutes without having to think of a real excuse, so she sat on the fifth step and looked into the lobby. Until she was ten, she’d been allowed to sit in that place and peek out at the reception desk after school. It was only when a customer complained to her father, who was at the front desk, about her unladylike posture, that Maura started spending her afternoons in the dining room or at Thelma’s or Bessie’s house.
The double doors of the main entrance opened and the sandy-haired man came in. He smiled when he saw her and crouched on the outside of the banister to look her in the face. “I thought you’d run into the street, but when I didn’t see you out there I decided to take a risk and look in here.”
She arched her brow and took a better look. “Do I know you, then?”
“Niall O’Connor.”
She nodded. “But have we met before?”
He shook his head and stood up to look over the railing at her upturned head. “No, but Mr. Maguire’s said you’re one of Fitzpatrick’s girls. The older one, I’d guess.”
She stood up and back, so she was taller than he was. “Well, the younger one’s not yet ten, so I’m glad you’re not suggesting I’m her. But I still don’t know how I’m to know you or why you followed me in.”
He grinned. His eyes were dark brown pools of light, and he had three dimples in his thin face. “No, you don’t. You don’t know me to spit at, I’d say, though I hope that never becomes the case. I’ve only just come here, to the States that is, a few weeks ago now. Mr. Maguire was good enough to hire me on to his timber crews, so naturally I’ve heard all about Fitzpatrick, your father that is, and his family.”
Maura started back towards the bar. “Perhaps Mr. Maguire is overly loquacious about my siblings and myself. It still doesn’t explain your presence here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my friend is waiting.”
Niall stood at the bottom of the stairs. Even with Maura on the second step up, he was almost at her eye level. Winking up at her, he said, “I’d say your friend is in the capable hands of the bloke you sent over to her after she caught you looking at me. And I’m out here because I wanted to tell you I was glancing at you, too, although you never caught me at it. Now will you let me accompany you back inside, Miss Fitzpatrick, or will you first tell me your name?”
Maura couldn’t get past him without brushing against him, and she didn’t want to return to her room without telling Thelma what had happened. She was debating what the right move would be when the bar door opened and Mr. Maguire looked around it.
“O’Connor! What are you up to, lad? Come away from there. Are you all right, Maura? Is the boy bothering you?”
She smiled and walked past Niall, who had backed into the lobby when Maguire spoke. “I’m fine, Uncle Pad, thank you. Mr. O’Connor here was offering to buy me a drink in honor of my birthday, but I assured him my brothers on the bar were quite able to see to my needs. Has Mr. O’Connor met Brian? I’d say they are of an age and might enjoy the acquaintance.”
“I’m eighteen,” Niall said, following her.
“Well, then, I’ll introduce you. Brian is just nineteen himself, and always looks forward to a new friendship.” She winked at Maguire as he held the door open for her. “Thank you, Uncle Pad. I’ll be fine from here on in.”
Niall and Brian did get along well, although Brian complained Niall wouldn’t visit long if Maura was out. Maura occasionally roused herself from her new romance enough to accuse Thelma of the same thing when Danny was out, but when the two friends took a detour past a jewelers shop on the way home from school and found themselves examining wedding rings together, they laughed and started to call each other sister.
“If only Brian would glance twice at Bessie, we’d be all sewn up,” Maura joked. Brian and Bessie had never gotten on; Brian would always much rather work than flirt, and Bessie was the diametric opposite. It wouldn’t be until after Brian had returned from service in WWII that he finally married, to a girl Mabel’s age who he met at a USO dance in St. Louis.
Thelma and Danny and Maura and Niall, however, were married together on the morning of June 14, 1938, when the girls were sixteen. Danny and Thelma drove to New Orleans for a week’s fun before he started his new job at an oil machinery company in Beaumont. Niall and Maura took the early train to Dallas for their honeymoon. As they pulled out of the station, Niall saw to their luggage and waved a final wave to the misty-eyed Mrs. Fitzpatrick and Mabel twirling in her new dress. Returning to their berth more than ready for a deep kiss, he saw with a laugh that his bride was curled up against the window, dreaming.
Of the boat journey, she remembered mostly how she spent the month after it not being able to fall asleep without her mother taking her into the rocking chair and humming until she was limp enough to be carried to bed without starting. All of her life, travel by car, train, or boat, no matter how rocky, would send Gran into a fast sleep. She knew how to drive, but would only get behind the wheel in extreme cases, as when she had to drive my mother to the hospital to give birth to me. After Pappa died, she sold their car to the next-door neighbors, for a thousand under Blue Book and Mr. and Mrs. Weimer’s promise they’d be there to transport her in a pinch.
Maura’s family wasn’t planning on making their home in Texas. A friend from Rosslare had told Maura’s father about a comfortable and trustworthy rooming house on Houston Street. But it was June of ‘28 and when Dermot asked for the best way to Houston at Grand Central’s ticket window, the clerk assumed they meant Texas, for the Democratic National Convention New Yorkers were headed to en masse. As the skyline faded away, and Katie expressed her concern, Danny, who was just ten and sick of the constant bustle since coming in to Ellis Island, burst into tears and said he wouldn’t get off the train to go back to that city.
A Texan on the train, Douglas Cathrow, told my great-grandparents stories of the benefits of Houston until they agreed to continue with their journey. He even had a brother, Stephen, who owned a hotel in Houston, and promised he’d be able to find Maura’s father a job, what with the influx of convention-goers. The hotel would be booked up for the convention, but Cathrow had a guesthouse the Fitzpatrick’s could stay in until it was over and they could then take rooms at the Arlington or find a place of their own.
It was a hard offer to refuse; Cathrow was just so concerned for them, and he had Danny and Brian falling over each other to answer questions about the crossing, and Katie said later she could tell by the look in Dermot’s eye he was actually relieved to be somewhere other than the impossible business that had been New York.
Not that Houston for the convention was much better. Worse, really, if you factored in the heat. But they arrived with a lifeline in place. Stephen Cathrow turned out to be equally as kind as his brother, if more reserved. Dermot eventually became concierge of the Arlington, and the boys, when they were old enough, worked as waiters and at the bar.
It was at the Arlington that Maura celebrated her fifteenth birthday by joining in the Fool’s Day celebration at the ground floor pub. Brian was the head bartender by then, at nineteen, and her other brother, Danny, who would be seventeen that same month, was in charge of the inventory. Maura convinced her parents that with her big brothers there to mind her, they could allow her a night out without their protection.
A good crowd was gathered around the bar. Not all of them were Irish, but the Virginian Bar had become something of a draw for the local Paddys, thanks to Mr. Fitzpatrick and his gregarious friends Mr. Donnell and Mr. Maguire. Fool’s Day was just a pretense to gather, although Brian and the other bartender did occasionally pull a lager instead of a stout or replace whiskey with tinted water for unsuspecting customers. Brian made sure Maura was seated at the quieter end of the bar with her friend Thelma, and gave them both glasses of cider.
Thelma was eyeing the crowd from her secluded vantage. “I’ll wager more than one lovely young man comes in here tonight,” she said, making a face at the unexpectedly bitter taste of the cider.
Maura took a half mouthful of her drink, and wondered if it would be too childish of her to ask her brother for a tonic water instead. “You may as well forget about it. If anyone talks to us, Danny will be here in three seconds. Just look at himself over there, pretending to dry glasses.” She made a face at Danny, who immediately rolled his eyes up and turned away.
“Well, if he comes over here, I’ll just distract him and you can slip away and introduce yourself to that one over there.”
“Which one?” Maura blushed.
“The tall skinny fella with the sandy hair you’ve been not looking at since he came in with old Maguire’s boys.” Thelma nudged her. “I wouldn’t blame you for noticing. If I wasn’t busy looking at your Danny I’d notice myself.”
Maura ducked behind her glass to hide her laughter. “Thelma! Why didn’t you just tell me? I’ll have him over here before you can blink.”
Thelma clutched at her arm. “No! I’m not really looking. Just you said how he’s watching us, that’s all. I was keeping an eye out he leaves us alone.”
Despite being dainty, blonde, and clever, Thelma had never even held a boy’s hand. Maura knew she’d been asked on walks and to socials since she was thirteen, but had never responded to any advances. Her parents hardly bothered to worry about men around Thelma, since she only ever wanted to spend her time reading or with Maura and Bessie, their other best friend. And glancing back at Danny, Maura caught how he had to take his eyes off Thelma before he noticed her standing up and heading towards him.
“I’ll be back, don’t worry,” she told Thelma.
Danny met her halfway across the room. “What are you doing, leaving her alone? It’s all right for you, you know your way about, but what if something happened to Thelma?”
“I was just coming over to ask you would you mind sitting with her a few minutes? I need to go up to the room for just a moment.” Danny started to say something, probably to challenge her as usual, but looked past her at Thelma and closed his mouth. “I’ll be back, don’t worry,” she repeated, and gave him a nudge towards the end of the bar before stepping outside.
The Virginian had a main entrance from the street, and a side door into the lobby of the Arlington marked Hotel Patrons Only. Maura pushed through the beveled glass and started towards the staircase. Her family had rooms on the third floor, but she thought she could manage to go back to Danny and Thelma after a few minutes without having to think of a real excuse, so she sat on the fifth step and looked into the lobby. Until she was ten, she’d been allowed to sit in that place and peek out at the reception desk after school. It was only when a customer complained to her father, who was at the front desk, about her unladylike posture, that Maura started spending her afternoons in the dining room or at Thelma’s or Bessie’s house.
The double doors of the main entrance opened and the sandy-haired man came in. He smiled when he saw her and crouched on the outside of the banister to look her in the face. “I thought you’d run into the street, but when I didn’t see you out there I decided to take a risk and look in here.”
She arched her brow and took a better look. “Do I know you, then?”
“Niall O’Connor.”
She nodded. “But have we met before?”
He shook his head and stood up to look over the railing at her upturned head. “No, but Mr. Maguire’s said you’re one of Fitzpatrick’s girls. The older one, I’d guess.”
She stood up and back, so she was taller than he was. “Well, the younger one’s not yet ten, so I’m glad you’re not suggesting I’m her. But I still don’t know how I’m to know you or why you followed me in.”
He grinned. His eyes were dark brown pools of light, and he had three dimples in his thin face. “No, you don’t. You don’t know me to spit at, I’d say, though I hope that never becomes the case. I’ve only just come here, to the States that is, a few weeks ago now. Mr. Maguire was good enough to hire me on to his timber crews, so naturally I’ve heard all about Fitzpatrick, your father that is, and his family.”
Maura started back towards the bar. “Perhaps Mr. Maguire is overly loquacious about my siblings and myself. It still doesn’t explain your presence here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my friend is waiting.”
Niall stood at the bottom of the stairs. Even with Maura on the second step up, he was almost at her eye level. Winking up at her, he said, “I’d say your friend is in the capable hands of the bloke you sent over to her after she caught you looking at me. And I’m out here because I wanted to tell you I was glancing at you, too, although you never caught me at it. Now will you let me accompany you back inside, Miss Fitzpatrick, or will you first tell me your name?”
Maura couldn’t get past him without brushing against him, and she didn’t want to return to her room without telling Thelma what had happened. She was debating what the right move would be when the bar door opened and Mr. Maguire looked around it.
“O’Connor! What are you up to, lad? Come away from there. Are you all right, Maura? Is the boy bothering you?”
She smiled and walked past Niall, who had backed into the lobby when Maguire spoke. “I’m fine, Uncle Pad, thank you. Mr. O’Connor here was offering to buy me a drink in honor of my birthday, but I assured him my brothers on the bar were quite able to see to my needs. Has Mr. O’Connor met Brian? I’d say they are of an age and might enjoy the acquaintance.”
“I’m eighteen,” Niall said, following her.
“Well, then, I’ll introduce you. Brian is just nineteen himself, and always looks forward to a new friendship.” She winked at Maguire as he held the door open for her. “Thank you, Uncle Pad. I’ll be fine from here on in.”
Niall and Brian did get along well, although Brian complained Niall wouldn’t visit long if Maura was out. Maura occasionally roused herself from her new romance enough to accuse Thelma of the same thing when Danny was out, but when the two friends took a detour past a jewelers shop on the way home from school and found themselves examining wedding rings together, they laughed and started to call each other sister.
“If only Brian would glance twice at Bessie, we’d be all sewn up,” Maura joked. Brian and Bessie had never gotten on; Brian would always much rather work than flirt, and Bessie was the diametric opposite. It wouldn’t be until after Brian had returned from service in WWII that he finally married, to a girl Mabel’s age who he met at a USO dance in St. Louis.
Thelma and Danny and Maura and Niall, however, were married together on the morning of June 14, 1938, when the girls were sixteen. Danny and Thelma drove to New Orleans for a week’s fun before he started his new job at an oil machinery company in Beaumont. Niall and Maura took the early train to Dallas for their honeymoon. As they pulled out of the station, Niall saw to their luggage and waved a final wave to the misty-eyed Mrs. Fitzpatrick and Mabel twirling in her new dress. Returning to their berth more than ready for a deep kiss, he saw with a laugh that his bride was curled up against the window, dreaming.
1930s Zephyr train - image via wikipedia.org