“I think Patricia is starting to feel better,” Margaret said as they turned a corner. “Her appetite has certainly improved.”
“I noticed that too.” Olivia glanced over at her companion.
Margaret had started to blossom herself, coming out of her shell more around Olivia and Ruth. The fact that she would even venture out in public was a huge achievement in Olivia’s opinion.
“How about Nancy?” she asked, taking advantage of Margaret’s willingness to talk. “Has she opened up to any of you?”
“Not really. She keeps to herself mostly, but she’ll come around in time. Like I did.” Margaret gave a shy smile that brightened her eyes. With the morning sun illuminating her clear skin and freckles, she appeared even younger than her eighteen years.
A wave of affection rose in Olivia’s chest as she wound her arm through Margaret’s. “I’m glad you feel comfortable with us. That was one of our main goals in starting Bennington Place. We want our residents to truly feel at home.”
“You’re doing a wonderful job of that.”
Shouting from up ahead drew Olivia’s attention. Across the street, their neighbor Mr. Simmons stood on the curb, gesturing toward a woman pacing in front of Ruth’s gate. Olivia quickened her steps toward them, while Margaret hung back.
“We don’t want your kind around here,” Mr. Simmons shouted. “Go back where you belong.”
The woman came to a stop, gripping the bag in her hand. She was dressed in a red skirt and long black jacket, an outfit much too warm for the weather. A mixture of emotions played over her heavily made-up features, and she looked ready to bolt.
“Can I help you?” Olivia asked as she approached. A glance at the woman’s waistline told Olivia that the woman was definitely expecting.
“No, thank you.” She retreated a few steps.
Olivia slowly came closer, noting that Margaret had already moved past them and headed inside, leaving the gate open behind her.
“I told you this would happen,” Mr. Simmons continued to rant. “First lousy immigrants, now women of ill repute.”
Olivia whirled to face the obnoxious man. She’d put up with his snide remarks before, but she would not allow him to harass anyone else. “That’s enough, Mr. Simmons. You need to mind your own business.”
“This neighborhood is my business, and I don’t appreciate a bunch of loose women living here.”
Blood thundered in Olivia’s ears. How dare he talk to them like that? Using all her self-control, she bit back a string of Italian insults, knowing that stooping to his level would only fuel his hatred. Instead, she turned her back on the horrible man.
“I’m terribly sorry about that,” she said to the woman. “My name is Olivia Rosetti. I help run the maternity home. Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?”
The hardness in the woman’s dark eyes eased a bit. She pursed her painted red lips and shook her head. “I do not know. Maybe dis was not a good idea.” Her words were laced with a distinct French-Canadian accent.
“Please don’t allow that rude man to sway you. Come inside and see what the residence is like. If you don’t care for it, all it will cost is a few minutes of your time.”
Indecision played across the woman’s features.
Olivia took the opportunity to look over her shoulder, relieved to note that the old man had trudged back onto his porch.
“All right,” the woman finally said. “I will take that cup of tea.”
“Wonderful.” Olivia led her up to the front door. “Please come in.”
Because Margaret and some of the other residents were in the parlor, Olivia ushered the woman to the sunroom, where they could have more privacy. Ruth was out at an appointment, or Olivia would have invited her to join them. She asked the woman to have a seat and then went to the kitchen to see about the tea.
On her way back, Olivia hesitated in the hall, sensing the need for caution with the woman inside. She’d seen several prostitutes while at the Mercer, and though none of the other inmates were allowed to interact with them, Olivia knew enough to recognize a woman in that profession. Mr. Simmons’s accusation might very well be true. The thought gave Olivia pause, but this woman deserved the same consideration as any other potential resident.
Lord, please help me to treat her fairly, without judgment, and to do what’s best for her and her child.
On an exhale, Olivia summoned up her friendliest expression and entered the room. “Mrs. Neale will bring our tea in a moment.” She took a seat on the sofa, silently blessing the warming rays that made the room so cheerful. “May I ask your name?”
The woman sat rigidly on her chair. “Cherise.” She lifted her chin as if to challenge Olivia to say anything about it.
“What a lovely name.” Olivia smiled and folded her hands in her lap. “How can we help you, Cherise?”
A beat of silence ensued while the woman seemed to consider her words. “As you probably noticed, I am having a baby in about two or three months.”
“And you need a place to stay until then?”
“Yes.” The terse reply accompanied a hard stare. “But I need to know what would be expected if I come here.”
Cherise’s tough exterior didn’t fool Olivia. The woman’s trembling hands hinted at the fear beneath her bravado.
“Nothing would be
