Page 56 of Calling on the Matchmaker
“Did you miss school?”
No one had ever asked her that before. Everyone had just assumed she’d do her duty as the oldest daughter and assist her mam with the young ones. During those weeks after she’d given up school, how had she felt? “I think mostly I missed the encouragement of the nuns. But I didn’t miss it too keenly because I was so busy. Then Ava was born and became my world.”
Finola had fed and changed and soothed the baby. She’d rocked her to sleep. She’d even gotten up at night with her. She’d never loved anyone more than she’d loved Ava.
As though sensing the tragic nature of the tale, Riley reached across the seat and took her hand. She needed to pull away, but the reassurance and comfort in his touch gave her the courage to keep going.
“Ava died not long after her first birthday.”
Riley’s fingers squeezed hers. “Let me guess. You blame yourself for the death?”
A familiar chill crept through her. The image of her baby sister’s smiling chubby face with her blond-red curls flashed into the forefront of her memory. Finola could even picture kissing Ava’s sweet cheek before setting her down on the floor that day in the upstairs nursery after changing the little girl’s nappy.
“Be an angel,” Finola had crooned as she picked up the tangled doily and her needle. “And play nicely.” She’d been working at pulling out stitches all morning, and somehow the fine white thread had gotten twisted. She only needed a few more moments to unravel the tangles.
Through the open window, she could hear Mam and the other little ones outside in the yard. And Enya was playing the piano in the front parlor.
Finola let her gaze dart to Ava, who had crawled over to her basket of toys and begun to empty them all one by one.
Ava spoke a few words of gibberish, then sat back and clapped her hands.
Finola smiled at the sweet baby and earned a happy smile, one that showed all her gums and the couple of front teeth that had come in already.
“You’re my wee angel, that you are.” Finola returned her attention to her stitching. The delicate threads were tangled worse than she’d realized. And one section was knotted particularly tight. She prodded and poked at it, twisting the needle in, wiggling it, loosening the knot. If she didn’t disentangle it, she’d have to snip the thread. She’d had to do that before, but then she’d have loose threads to worry about tucking away.
After long moments of trying, the thread finally came free, but then another knot formed, and she started to work on that one.
At Ava’s babbling, Finola pricked her finger with the needle and glanced up. “What’s wrong, my wee one?”
The basket of toys was empty, and the spot Ava had been sitting in was empty too.
Finola scanned the nursery but saw no sign of the baby. But the door leading into the hallway was open....
“Ava?” Finola dropped the doily and sprang forward. Her heart lurched too.
At one year of age, Ava had just started crawling, and Mam had said to be careful not to let the baby out of her sight, had warned of all the dangers that an infant could get into. And now those dangers flashed through Finola’s mind as she raced into the hallway.
Where had the baby gone?
As Finola glanced around frantically, she caught sight of Ava at the top of the long marble stairway that led down to the front entryway.
“Ava, angel. Stop!” Finola’s cry echoed in the hallway. Butshe was too late. Ava disappeared over the edge. A frightened wail was followed by endless thumping.
And then silence ... ghastly silence.
Finola ran to the edge of the stairway and then down the stairs, desperate to get to the baby. Ava lay on her back, staring up at the chandelier with unseeing eyes, her neck twisted at an odd angle.
Finola hadn’t realized she was screaming until her mam burst through the front door. Mam took in the scene in one glance and rushed to the baby. She fell to her knees and pressed trembling hands to the baby’s mouth and chest.
“Holy Mary, have mercy.” Mam’s eyes filled with tears. “Finola, what have you done?”
“Finola,what have you done?”Those words echoed in Finola’s head again as they had many times over the years since Ava’s death.
Riley was waiting for her explanation. And he deserved it.
“I blame myself because Iamto blame. I was supposed to be watching my sister at all times. But I got distracted, and when I next turned around, she was gone.” Finola sat tensely, waiting for him to pull away, for disgust to flash across his face, or for his muscles to stiffen.
But he did none of those things. He lifted a hand to her chin, forcing her head around so that she was looking at him. His eyes were dark and serious. “It sounds like an accident.”
