“Mr. Buckthorn?”
Jonas was startled out of his reverie. How long had he been standing, he wondered, rag in one hand and a paintbrush in the other. Miss Ringworthy stood before him, an impish smile gracing her lips.
“I hope you weren’t thinking about the house. Your face looked quite sad and disturbed while you were lost in your thoughts.”
“Oh, no,” Jonas started to lie, and then thought better about it. “Actually, I was thinking about my mother and my father.” And before Miss Ringworthy could embarrass them both by asking after their health, Jonas quickly added, “They both died ten years ago . . . today.” He blinked his eyes. Yes, today was the anniversary of their death. No wonder he felt so preoccupied.
“Oh, I am terribly sorry,” exclaimed Miss Ringworthy with great warmth and genuine sincerity. She stepped a little closer to Jonas as if she wanted to put her hand on his arm. He didn’t move, hoping that she might reach out and touch him. Instead she asked with some hesitation, “This was before you came to Constance?”
He thought her question curious, under the circumstances. To go from his acknowledgement that today was the anniversary of his parents’ death to her expressed sympathy and now to an almost casual, conversational question. And then he remembered: Miss Ringworthy’s parents had died in an auto accident on their way back from attending Miss Ringworthy’s college graduation ceremony. He had overheard Mrs. Parrish talk about it at one of the church socials. Miss Ringworthy had originally planned to seek employment in the city, but upon becoming an orphan with not even siblings to give her comfort, she returned instead to the Town of Constance and made a public vow never to leave it. Mrs. Parrish had said, and many listening to her story agreed, that Miss Ringworthy blamed herself for her parents’ death and hoped to atone by becoming a school teacher in Constance. It had been her mother’s wish.
So Jonas relaxed, understanding the underlying meaning of Miss Ringworthy’s question. He looked at her and smiled.
“Yes, it was before I came here and it is also why I came here. Perhaps some day we might meet for coffee and I can tell you all about it.” He knew he was being a bit forward; most women in Constance would have found his suggestion impolite merely because he and Miss Ringworthy barely knew each other. As he suspected, however, Miss Ringworthy was not offended, no doubt due to her experiences in the city. Rather, she said she would be delighted to meet with him and then, as if to keep this happy moment with her for a long while, she quickly took her leave, saying that the Makepeace girls were waiting for her in the kitchen.
Jonas laughed to himself as he saw Miss Ringworthy put a little skip in her step as she hurried along the hallway. So, we have a great deal in common, he thought to himself. Both orphans. Both having lived on the outside. Both now living alone. Both lonely? He heard a slight chuckling sound as if someone had eavesdropped on his thoughts and was laughing good-humoredly about his apparent growing infatuation with Miss Ringworthy. He looked around but saw no one else in his corner of the upstairs hallway. A line of women and girls were streaming down the staircase and toward the kitchen, but they took no notice of him, perhaps not even realizing he was there.
“You would do well to court Miss Ringworthy,” a voice inside Jonas’s head said. “You would do well.” Jonas blushed, murmured an awkward “thank you,” and then dashed off to follow his troops and help them prepare their afternoon tea.
