She reached the women’s dormitory, trotted through the foyer, clattered up the staircase, then burst into her room. Felicity leaped up from the desk in the corner and spun toward the door, her blue eyes wide and her slender hand pressed to her lace bodice.
“What are you doing here?”
They asked the question at the same time. Felicity sounded confused, but aggravation tinged Addie’s tone. She tamped down the unwelcome emotion and spoke more kindly. “Why aren’t you in class?”
“Professor Dunbright had a toothache and canceled. So I decided to study for my biology examination, even though the subject positively bores me to tears.” Felicity perched sideways on the chair, draped her hands over the chair’s ladder back, and rested her chin on her knuckles. “Tell me about your meeting with Dean Crane. Was his office as dark and spooky as my guys say?” Felicity always referred to the half dozen boys who regularly ran in their circle of friends as her guys. Sometimes Addie found it endearing, and other times childish. In her present mood, the reference rankled.
“It was dark but hardly spooky.” Addie plopped onto the corner of her unmade bed, sliding the letters from Mother under the rumpled sheets. “I keep telling you not to listen to the guys. They like to exaggerate.”
“I know.” Felicity wrinkled her nose, giggling. “But they’re so cute. I can’t ignore them.”
Addie lowered her head and fiddled with the envelopes, stifling a sigh. How had she and Felicity formed such a tight bond, given their many differences? Felicity was an active member of the arts-and-theater sorority, while Addie had pledged the literary sorority. Felicity was flighty and prone to giggles, but Addie—having been raised by loving but older, no-nonsense parents—rarely indulged in giggling or impulsive behavior. If thinking before speaking was a sport, Felicity would always be at the bottom of the heap. Even so, Addie had grown to love her roommate as a sister, and she didn’t doubt Felicity felt the same way about her. Could she trust her with this recent, unsettling news?
She looked up and started to speak, but Felicity was bent over the desk again, apparently studying. Knowing how difficult it was for the girl to stay focused for any length of time, she chose not to disturb her. She slid the latest letter from beneath the sheets and carefully opened the flap. After stretching out on her side with her back to Felicity, she removed the sheets of Mother’s flowered stationery from the envelope and unfolded them.
Our dearest Adeladybug…
The childhood nickname took her back to rosy days of love and laughter. How writing this letter must have pained Mother, whose kindness was such that she couldn’t even swat a fly without feeling guilty for ending its life. Tears filled Addie’s eyes, and she blinked to clear them.
I’m sorry to send so many dismal missives. We are sure you are reeling and uncertain how to respond. Yet your daddy and I believe you are old enough to accept these realities and need to be aware of how our lives have so rapidly changed. Or perhaps not so rapidly, as we have been on a slow descent for quite some time.
You likely noticed the new address on the envelope. We no longer have our house on Briar Drive. The bank foreclosed on it. We are sad, but we aren’t bitter. After all, we had many happy years there, and the bank is only doing what it must to recover its money. If we’d more prudently used our reserve when Daddy lost his job in ’30, perhaps things would be different, but one cannot go back in time. So we choose to move forward and look for the blessings.
Addie smiled. So many times she’d heard Mother say, “Look for the blessings, Addie.” Mother believed the promise in Romans 8:28 that all things—even the hard things of life—worked for the good of the believer. Mother was the most steadfast believer Addie knew. She’d taught Addie to pray and instilled in her the habit of reading from God’s Word at the start of the day. Maybe when Addie grew up all the way, she would be as strong in faith as her mother.
Her smile faded, though, when she reread, “If we’d more prudently used our reserve when Daddy lost his job in ’30…” During those two years, when the bank’s doors remained locked and Daddy was without a job, they had continued to pay for her ballet and piano lessons, allowed her sweets from the candy shop every Saturday, bought her new dresses each season. Had they not indulged her, would they have had the funds to save the house? Guilt nibbled at her, and she lifted the letter again.
Our biggest concern now is for you. Our room here at the boardinghouse is spacious enough to accommodate our bedroom furniture and our favorite chairs from the parlor, so we have a sitting area in which to relax. With photographs and a few favorite pieces of bric-a-brac surrounding us, we’ve made it a cheerful place, but it is only one room. If you were a little girl, we could tuck a cot in the corner for you; however, you’re far too grown up to share a room with your parents. The boardinghouse is full—we were fortunate to secure this room. My tears flow as I write, but I don’t know where you will stay when you return to Georgetown.
Daddy is searching for employment, and you know how determined he is. As soon as he is working and we’ve been able to save a little money, we will move into a house with a second bedroom for our sweet little ladybug. You haven’t been cast out forever. (Daddy says to assure you that the books from his study, all your belongings, and the furniture from your room are safely stored in the loft of Preacher Finley’s barn. We sold many items from the house, but Daddy adamantly refused to sell your beloved books or anything else of importance to you, and I agreed with him.)
An image formed in her head of her parents—gentle Mother, proud Daddy—carefully saving the things that mattered to her but selling their furniture and personal effects to strangers or, even worse, to their neighbors. The indignity of such an event…Why had God allowed them to suffer so? Tears filled her eyes again. She bit down until she tasted blood, but no amount of biting on her lip could stem the tide. A sob broke from her throat, a second burst out behind it, and she dissolved into a wailing mess.
Feet pattered on the floor, and warm arms surrounded her. “Addie, Addie…” Felicity rocked her the way Mother had when Addie was small and frightened by a storm. “What is it, dear one? Did Dean Crane say something to frighten you? Oh, I should have paid more attention to you than to my silly biology book. I’m so sorry.”
Her parents were burdened with a guilt they shouldn’t have to bear. She wouldn’t leave Felicity to suffer self-recrimination. She pulled loose and wiped her face with the corner of her sheet. “It isn’t your fault. Of course you need to study. I’m sorry I disturbed you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re more important to me than any old test ever could be.” Felicity pushed a strand of hair from Addie’s cheek, then caught hold of her hands. Her full lips formed a sympathetic pout. “I’ve never seen you cry. Something must be horribly wrong. Please tell me. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”