All the Blue of Heaven by Virginia Carmichael

surrounded by artists and
dancers and God knows what else, than to be with her own family?” Her mother’s
voice had risen in anger and Mrs. Morton paused, looking back at them with a
pair of lace gloves in hand.
               
“Auntie, do you like these?” Janey held up another pair, eyes shining.
               
“Yes, my dear, those are perfect,” Allie pasted a smile to her face and waited
for little Janey to return her attention to the finery. “I am her family, too.
And those ‘heathens’ were people. Good, bad, all kinds. Just as it is here at
home.” A red hot anger boiled up in her chest and she fought to keep her voice
under control.
               
“Alberta,” her mother gripped her arm with a pincer grasp, “you cannot possibly
believe you will find a husband who will take you and Jane.”
               
She stood still, her mind numb with shock. “You don’t mean for me to―”
                 “That’s exactly what I
mean for you to do. You will marry someone who can forgive your past, and Jane
will remain with me, where she belongs.” Her mother’s tone softened, as if
there was no sense in arguing. “It is the only way. You are not well enough to
care for her yourself. You must admit it.”
               
Allie stared across the small room at the little figure and realized she would
rather die than walk away from the child she considered her own for the past
four years. It did not matter what - or who - they offered. But how could
she keep her when she was weak and penniless? 
     
     

 
     
    Chapter
Five
     
              Mrs.
Gibson met them at the door with her usual bustle and energy. “I’ve just
brought out a tray for tea. Come into the sitting room and refresh yourselves,”
she insisted, hugging Janey with one arm and waving Allie in with the other.
               
“Did you find lots of lovely things, my dear? This hat is new, isn’t it? Oh,
and what fine gloves! You look like a perfect princess.” Mrs. Gibson couldn’t
have spoken more needed words as Janey grinned from ear to ear.
               
Allie watched the little girl settle primly onto a cushion and wait to be
served her tea, hands folded delicately in her lap, her tiny chin lifted high.
Maybe her mother was right about the lessons since she would have to fit into
this world.
               
“Mrs. Gibson, if you don’t mind, I’m feeling a bit tired. I think I shall rest
before dinner.” Her head pounded so fiercely she could hardly speak but she
made an effort to appear simply fatigued.
               
“Oh, my! Are you feeling faint? Should we call Dr. Ashley?” Her face creased
into tens of extra wrinkles as her concern registered.
               
“No, nothing like that. I’m not used to this heat, I suppose. San Francisco is
cooler, especially in the morning before the fog lifts.” Allie tried to smile
reassuringly at Janey, who had moved to stand next to her with a worried look.
               
“Well, a few more weeks and we’ll be right into autumn. It will be a relief to
have this summer behind us. Then we’ll be preparing for the Christmas season.
What a wonderful time it will be! Full of parties and dinners!” Mrs. Gibson
chatted as she took her employer’s hat from her.
               
“Go ahead and have some cookies, Janey. Mrs. Gibson makes the best spice
biscuits you’ll ever taste.” Janey slowly returned to her spot, clearly torn
between following Allie and the promise of fresh cookies.
               
Her mother glanced at her but said nothing as Allie turned toward the stairs.
Every step seemed to twist a knife into her skull. The long banister was cool
to the touch, slipping under her fingers like water. Her bedroom door was open
and the bright sunlight streamed through her window. Allie crossed the room and
pulled the heavy curtains closed. The room