Far Away Home by Susan Denning Read Free Book Online

someone else’s wishes, requested long ago
but still held captive under the thick slate roof with no escape. Aislynn added
her own request, asking God to let her join Tim or let him come home.
    Her eyes
wandered and found other distractions to engage her imagination. Two rows
ahead, the Tullys sat with their array of children and grandchildren. That’s
what I want. I want a real family with children, and I want it with Tim. We
could work together and buy land, have our own home. Her eyes fell on the
O’Mallys. Mrs. O’Mally had her head down and a veil draped over her face.
Aislynn wondered what was hidden beneath. She knew in her world, marriage
reigned supreme, regardless of the conditions. Women stayed in marriages
through drunkenness, violence, and neglect. They stayed, bound by canon and
civil law, and to maintain social standing. Women without men were pitied. It
seemed better to be in a bad marriage than in no marriage. My marriage will
be wonderful; if it's with Tim.
    Aislynn folded
her hands and placed them on the pew in front of her. Johnny’s hands rested
next to hers and she studied them. His thick fingers were entwined. Black,
ash-filled lines ran chaotically through his skin, abruptly halting at the
places where smooth scars had been burned into his flesh. His thumbs stood
sentinel, guarding his palms that were thick with calluses, the natural armor
against the tools of his trade. Aislynn gazed at the soot embedded around his
thumbnails, shaped in the form of little ebony smiles. As big as they are,
they seem to be kind, gentle hands.
    Christmas
morning mass was a repeat of midnight mass. The Mahers joined the Denehys and
the Nolans at church, and they all proceeded to Worth Street for Christmas
dinner. Aislynn had decorated the shelves and sills of both apartments with
holly and pine. She hung two evergreen boughs tied with red ribbon on the doors
of both apartments. Presents trimmed with ribbons were stacked in the Nolan’s
parlor. The Nolan’s kitchen table had been moved into the Denehy parlor, which
would allow everyone to eat in the same flat.
    Once home,
Aislynn retreated to the kitchen. Since Tim’s departure, Aislynn found
diversion in cooking. She planned a meal starting with beet soup, called
borscht, one of the many recipes she copied over the years from old Mr.
Rattawitz. After the soup, she presented a roasted goose dripping fat over its
potato stuffing to her appreciative diners. Applesauce, green peas and
cranberry preserves were served with the goose. For days prior to this main
event, Aislynn had baked whiskey cake, fruitcake and apple pies.
    After the meal,
everyone squeezed into the Nolan parlor to open gifts. Frank Junior and his
wife, Patsy, brought their young son, who delighted the group by wrapping
himself in discarded ribbons and twirling among the presents. When all the
packages were opened, Brendan announced that Johnny had a gift for Aislynn.
Johnny, standing outside the circle, shot a surprised look at Brendan and shook
his head.
    Patsy squealed,
“Let’s see! Let’s see!”  
    Johnny’s pale
skin went red and looking across the room, he searched Aislynn’s face. Her eyes
were wide, her mouth taut. They looked at each other as though they had been
caught committing a terrible crime. Aislynn heard Patsy coaxing Johnny and
silently wished the woman would be struck dumb. Brendan said, “Come on, Son.
It’s fine.” He directed Johnny toward Aislynn with his arms raised high like
Moses parting the sea. Scowling at Brendan, Johnny turned back to Aislynn, who
gave him a weak smile. Onlookers murmured encouragement. With a sigh, Johnny
took the seat next to Aislynn. Looking over the crowd, Johnny pulled a small
box from his shirt pocket and passed it into her waiting palm.
    Aislynn said,
“Thank you.” She rested the present in her lap and covered it with her hands.
    “Open it!” Patsy
cried.
    Please God,
just render her unconscious for a few minutes .
    Aislynn bit