“It won’t be like that.” Tom looked from one to the other. “I promise, I’ll work with her on it. We’ll work it out.” He held out a hand, begging. “You saw how wonderful she is. How good she is, even if she’s not religious. Please, just give me time.”
They seemed to relax. “We will,” his mother said, rising to warm the tea. She kissed the top of his head. “Your good influence will do wonders, I’m sure.”
He felt it best to be honest with Casey when he talked to her the next night. To his relief, she seemed grateful.
“I knew this would be the sticking point,” she said, as they talked over hot chocolate in the parlor. Her face was sad and she stared into her cup, as if the answer would appear there. She sat on the window seat, her stocking feet tucked under her. She had taken him seriously when he said she could take her shoes off when he was around, and he was glad she had. It reminded him of the trust she had in him.
“Sam tells me I won’t be able to get around this,” she continued. “He says it’s too ingrained in the culture.”
“I have to leave it up to you Casey,” Tom said. He felt as if his heart was going to stop beating. He wanted to get through this more than anything, with Casey still at his side. “I would never try to force you to do this. But…” he waited a moment, trying to get control of his voice, “I’m begging you to do it.”
She didn’t answer for a minute. Her eyes were dry, but when she spoke, her voice was husky with tears. He had to lean forward to hear her. “I could go. Every week. But I still won’t believe it. I’ll end up hating it. And resenting it.”
“If you do, then I would want you to stop,” he said. “But you have to take it one step at a time.”
“What’s the barest minimum I can do?” she asked. He saw her shaky attempt at a smile and he gave up trying to not touch her. Moving to sit beside her, he pulled her against him, relieved when she snuggled into his shoulder. He could never give her up. In the other timeline, had he ever come this close to rebelling against his family’s wishes? He was going to marry her, no matter what happened.
“Sunday mornings,” he said. “Just the church service. You might consider Sunday School or one of the women’s groups, just to find friends. But you don’t have to. Come to Comber on weekends and go to church with my family.” He squeezed her briefly. “Bow your head during family prayers.” She giggled. Neither she or Sam had done that when the family prayed before dinner and one of the older children had mentioned it, and was promptly called to task for not bowing his own head. He touched her hair and she raised her head to look at him. “That’s all for now. Start small.”
She nodded, and he felt a slight loosening in his chest. There was a chance.
Chapter 20
April 1907
Tom played on the North Down Cricket Team, and he invited Casey and Sam to the game in Belfast on a Saturday afternoon in late April. There was no rain, so Casey spread a blanket on the grass with the other spectators. Tom loved seeing her there, looking over often enough that a few of his mates felt it necessary to remind him to play cricket. They were jovial about it, since he managed to score a respectable amount.
He kept looking because she was the perfect picture of a fashionable lady. Her beige skirt and white blouse were exactly right for a sunny afternoon, and the wide hat she wore hid her short hair. She had a parasol, but had deemed it superfluous with the hat, and besides, holding it kept her from clapping whenever he made a hit.
His friends approved of her. He hoped she would find a friend or two among the women. George’s wife, Susan, had promised to make Casey a special project of hers. Tom noticed when Susan arrived and sat next to Casey, who began playing with Susan’s five month old son. He liked seeing her laughing and chatting with the women. He wanted her to feel as if she belonged. He wanted her to say ‘yes’ when he asked her to marry him.
He had called his mother before leaving work, to let her know he wouldn’t be over this weekend. Somehow, it had not occurred to him that he’d done the same thing the week before, and the week before that, and just possibly, the week before that. His mother, of course, remembered this, and she had never spoken to him in such an exasperated tone.
“Dear, perhaps it’s not a good idea to pursue the girl with such dedication. There is something to be said for suspense, you know.”
He trusted her advice, as always. So, touching the ring in his pocket, he considered her words for a moment before answering. “I can’t play games with her, Mother. If I came to Ardara and didn’t see her, I’d be miserable. I just want to be with her. It’s not like I get to see her very much, you know.”
“I understand she has been attending church with you in Belfast,” she replied. “Is she willing to attend with us in Comber? She and Dr. Altair are, of course, welcome for the weekend.”
“I know that Casey would be delighted,” Tom said. This was, perhaps, a bit strong, but anyway, he knew she would go. Nervous, he plunged ahead. “Mother, I am in love with Casey. I want to marry her and I want to ask her as soon as possible. Will you and Father give your blessing? I know you have concerns, but I’m asking you to trust me on this. She is trying to meet your conditions, in spirit as well as practice. Please welcome her into the family.”
He was surprised at her answer. “Tommy,” with a sigh, “Your father and I have already discussed this, and we both agree that we have no real right to interfere in your decision. You’re a grown man, and a good one. We have nothing but pride and love for you, and we want you to be happy.”
She was quiet for a moment. “You’re right, we still have concerns. But we know she is trying, and we have agreed that if this is really what you want, and if Casey will be your wife, then she will be our daughter.”
After the game, Tom, Casey, and Sam strolled the market for food to take home for dinner. Now with the meal cooking, they settled in the parlor, Sam and Tom in chairs and Casey on the window seat, catching the late afternoon sun.
“So, what do you miss the most about the twenty-first century?” Tom asked them. He liked to ask things like this; he never got tired of hearing about the future.
“Miss the most?” Sam repeated, giving it some thought. “Television, I think.”
“Television!” Casey was appalled. “How can you miss T.V.?”
“Oh, are you one of those snobs who never watched?”
She lifted her eyes heavenward and shrugged. “I suppose. I was a busy person. I didn’t have time to watch.”
Sam nodded in understanding while Tom looked on in amusement. He had no idea what they were talking about, but they’d get around to explaining. “It’s not so much that I miss what was on T.V.,” Sam explained, “it’s the idea that I could watch something if I wanted to. That’s what I miss.”
“Oh.” Casey thought about it. “I can see that, sure.”
She was outlined in the sun; her hair seemed aflame. Tom smiled at her, enjoying the pleasure he got from looking at her. “And what do you miss the most about the twenty-first century, dear?”
Her glance returned to the window and her expression was melancholy. “My mother,” she said.
Sam folded his hands and looked at the ceiling. Tom got up and went to sit by her on the window seat, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her forehead. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
She smiled a little. “I wish she could meet you.”
“Ah, I wish that too, lass.” He tilted his head, eyes crinkled with curiosity. “Would she approve? And your father?”