Free The Hatmaker's Heart: A Novel by Carla Stewart

to meet. This is Calvin Gold, the one from work I’ve told you about.”
    Felice eyed him up and down. “Happy to meet you.”
    Calvin tipped his fedora. “Nice to make your acquaintance. I’ve heard nice things about you and the diner.”
    Felice nodded. “And a gentleman, too, I see. I hate to bring the bad news…” She pulled a wheat-colored envelope from the pocket of her apron and thrust it into Nell’s hands.
    The Western Union emblem on the outside was unmistakable. The air inside the diner thinned. Nell squinted to read the type through the envelope to see who it was from, hoping it wasn’t something dreadful. Wires they received from England, where telephoning was out of the question, were only to announce important events like births and deaths. Her stomach went queasy.
    “Thank you, Felice.”
    “Aren’t you going to open it? Here, step over here where the light is better. I’ll bring you and your friend a cuppa tea with a dash of Angelo’s secret ingredient, just in case there’s no good news.”
    “That would be lovely. But no secret ingredient, okay?” Although a shot of brandy from Angelo’s hiding place might be just what she needed, there’s no telling what it would do to her on an empty stomach. Nell set her handbag on the nearest table while Felice hovered next to her, her breath a warm garlic fog. Nell scanned the message, afraid to breathe herself, but then she clapped her hand over her mouth to stop the shriek.
    “What? I pray it’s not bad news. I’ve had a terrible feeling—”
    “No. Not bad news at all. It’s from Aunt Sarah. Mittie. Iris. They’re coming, and they’ll be here t-tomorrow! Isn’t that wonderful?”
    Felice leaned on her mop and did the sign of the cross. “Thank heavens. Your aunt, yes? I remember. Stick of a thing, like you. And her girls, twins, no? Bella and full of the spice.”
    Nell gave Felice another hug. “I’ll bring them to see you.”
    “Angelo will make gnocchi just for you. And bring this nice young man with you.”
    “Yes. Gnocchi. Th-thank you.”
    After their tea and saying good night to Felice, Nell thought of inviting Calvin up to the flat, but she didn’t think encouraging him was a good idea. In the next instant, he saved her from the awkward moment. “It’s a nice evening for a walk, so I’ll catch the subway. Guess the dancing tomorrow night is out.”
    “I’d forgotten all about that, but no harm in you going with my roommates. You said you wanted to live dangerously.”
    “Give me a call.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Guess if I can’t dance with you, I’ll have to make do with someone else.”
    “You’ll be fine with Jeanette and Greta. More than fine.”
    *  *  *
    People elbowed and shoved as they rushed through the mammoth, clattering expanse of Grand Central Terminal. Nell arrived early so she could station herself on the west side of the giant clock on the main concourse. It had been the agreed-upon meeting place for the previous visits from Aunt Sarah and her cousins. And the place Oscar Fields had first met her when she arrived in New York.
    The same nervous anticipation filled her stomach, as it had on that day two years ago. She’d been both terrified and giddy from the possibilities that lay before her. When she’d emerged from the train and asked for directions to the giant clock, she clung to the promise that Mr. Fields had hinted at—that she would be a principal designer within months.
    Now, with people brushing past at an alarming click, and the hiss and clatter of the trains, the glow of that promise had dimmed. Or maybe she’d matured with the reality that to make a name for herself might take longer than she first thought. Perhaps even years.
    Nell spotted Mittie first and waved. Her cousin waved back and loped toward her. At eighteen, Mittie was still all legs and arms with a wild mane of dark hair like the saddlebred horses her daddy, Eli Humphreys, raised in Kentucky. Aunt Sarah and