Land of Promise by Joan Lowery Nixon

Author:Joan Lowery Nixon [Nixon, Joan Lowery]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-82749-4
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2013-11-27T05:00:00+00:00

Da had regained his appetite by the time Rose served the noon meal, and although he glanced contritely at Rose now and again, he said nothing. Rose, unsure of how she should react, didn’t refer to the episode either.

Immediately after the meal both Michael and Johnny left the house. Where Johnny was off to was anyone’s guess, but Rose supposed that Michael was on his way to see his Ellen.

The sky was gray, with on-again, off-again showers. Rose stayed indoors, using the time to take care of the family’s mending and to bake bread ahead for the next few days.

To her surprise her father was in a good mood and asked her to play a game of draughts. “Checkers, it’s called here in America,” he told her as he put out the board.

As they played, Rose remembered games like this she’d played with Da in their home in Ireland. Had it been so long ago? The kitchen had been fragrant with smoldering peat and Ma’s soups simmering at the back of the stove, and Rose had felt so loved.

After her father had won three games to two, Rose leaned back in her chair and said, “Da, I’m going to teach Irish dancing at Hull House next Sunday afternoon. Why don’t you come and watch me?”

He looked pleased. “Are you that fine a dancer then, Rosie girl?”

Rose laughed as she stood up and lifted her skirts above her ankles. “I’ll show you. Just pretend there’s music,” she said, and her heels and toes beat out a rapid tattoo.

A sudden thumping came from below them, and a muffled voice shouted, “What’s all the noise about? What’s going on up there?”

Rose flopped into a chair, giggling. “It’s easy to see that the Horbowys don’t appreciate the Irish jig—at least when it’s taking place over their heads.”

Da smiled. “You take after your mother, Rosie. When she was young, Maura was always the fine dancer. Other dancers would stop just to watch her.”

“Da,” Rose said softly, “let’s do everything we can to bring Ma here as soon as possible.”

“Of course, Rosie,” her father answered, but he looked down at the draughts board, fumbling with the pieces as he packed them inside their box.

“With the three steerage fares and the twenty-five dollars apiece, it’s going to take every cent we can spare.” She hoped and prayed she hadn’t sounded like a scold.

Da’s eyes looked misty. “All morning I’ve been blaming myself and hating myself for what I did yesterday. But I thought if I met with the boys I’d find out who might be hiring—there’s something I’ve set my mind to find out about—and you know that when they’re buying rounds I have to pay my own share. I’d be ashamed not to.”

Rose realized she should have expected excuses. “It’s all right, Da,” she managed to say.

“No, it’s not all right, Rosie, and I’ll be the first to admit it,” he declared. “But I promise you just what I promised myself—I’ll never again take so much as a penny of that passage money.

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