Every Rainbow Has Its Pot of Gold

26 March, 1902
Wednesday

I adore travelling by train. Just a small amount of money takes you almost anywhere you desire. And the speed! Everything flashes by the car windows so quickly. It's amazing. Andrew and I can travel home in under two hours, and Rainbow is a long way from New York City. Fifty miles, at least.

Noah came home with us for Easter; we're to stay a week. Momma invited him along because she says I've chattered about him long enough in my letters and it's time she actually met him. He's sharing Andrew's room. I have a room to myself again! Well, for a week, that is. I'd forgotten what it's like to have a bedroom all to myself after staying in Harlem so long. It's so different from sharing one with nineteen other girls. There is actually space for all my books! Gwen and I need to figure out a way to organize the space beneath our bunk. We're running out of room. I guess I could store some of my books in the attic?

It's so good to be home. I've missed everyone so much. Rebecca has gotten taller, I believe. She's nearly as tall as I am now. And pretty, too. Momma says that Christopher Evans has started asking to walk her home. I'm surprised he had the courage to ask. He used to be so shy from what I remember.

She's gotten permission to stay home from school as long as we are home, with the excuse that we haven't been home for a visit in such a long time. Becca said it made a big stir among the others. There's a bonfire Friday night some of the Thomas clan is hosting that we've been invited to. "The" event of the month, it seems, so of course we all have to make an appearance. It should be fun, even if Clarissa Thomas and I don't get along very well.

27 March, 1902
Thursday

I forgot all about the tradition of afternoon visits. One nice thing about working for a living, I do not have to deal with all the silliness and gossip that accompanies visiting hour. I think it bored Noah, too. He kept staring at the bookcase longingly until Andrew finally came up with an excuse for him to leave. I wish I could have been so lucky. There's nothing I wanted more than to curl up somewhere in the house, away from the parlor, with a cup of tea and a good thick novel. Which reminds me... There's a new bookstore opening up near St. Nicholas Park. I think it's called Literary Pursuits. Maybe they'll need a clerk?

Elizabeth Jordan finally got engaged. I'm surprised it hasn't been sooner; she always was the one most concerned with having beaux. Judy Humphries recently had a little girl, making the third. They say Stephen is getting rather anxious at the thought of not having a son to carry on the family name. Sarah Markheim and Jaspar Torrent eloped three weeks ago, but their parents have forgiven them, and even helped set them up in housekeeping. A lot of other things have happened, but since none of them related to people I used to know, I'm afraid I wasn't paying very much attention.

After supper tonight, Noah and I went on a stroll. I never thought about the architecture here very much until now. There's such a big difference between the brick and stone buildings of New York with all of their fancy carvings and the gingerbread houses with their large yards here. I wonder if whoever named the town called it Rainbow because of all the different colors in houses? I don't know which I prefer, the brick and stone of New York City or the gingerbread houses of Rainbow, New Jersey. I asked Noah, but he said it's like comparing apples and oranges, that each has its own merits. I can't decide. I like them both, I guess.

28 March, 1902
Friday

The bonfire is postponed because it rained all day. But it was too rainy for visitors, which was a blessing. I had my opportunity to read all day. I also helped Momma bake for Sunday. We made a chocolate cake, an apple pie with raisins, and plenty of cookies to tempt Andrew away from the other desserts, so he won't eat them before Easter dinner. Noah sat in the kitchen with us (he picked the seeds out of the raisins) and he and Momma talked a good bit. She likes him. I don't see why she wouldn't.

Since the Thomas' bonfire was cancelled, some of Rebecca's friends dropped by this evening. Of course they made fudge, which Andrew finished off once the rest of them made themselves sick. Those that didn't give up fudge for Lent, of course. And Bonnie Ray played the piano so everyone sang. Noah has a nice singing voice. But he has a nice voice the rest of the time, too.

You know, he's not quite so shy around the others anymore. He still doesn't talk very much, but he doesn't get that painful "what to I do next" look as often. I'm glad. I'd hate for him to feel uncomfortable around the others.

29 March, 1902
Saturday

We dyed eggs today! Noah had juts as much fun as Rebecca and I did, and got just as messy. He said he never dyed Easter eggs when he was younger, that he remembers, at least. Maybe before his mother died. After, all he and his father did for Easter was go to church and thin to his grandparents for dinner and a quiet afternoon. I think he'll be a little surprised in the morning. Family is a very big tradition with us. As far as I know, only Aunt Martha and Uncle John, and Uncle William and Aunt Leila are coming over, plus their children. But Uncle William and his family might not make it if Aunt Leila is still feeling poorly.

I think I've surprised Noah a bit myself. I act a little differently here at home than I do back in New York, and he's never seen me like this, I don't think. Every time I do something "new," he pauses, blinks a few times, and them starts to help me if he can as if it's nothing new to him. I don't think it's a bad change—here I'm daughterly, there I'm much more independent—but I wonder what he thinks of it?

30 March, 1902
Easter Sunday

What a day this has been. The weather was nice, a little warmer than usual. The Thomas' have decided that tomorrow should be a good night for the bonfire. Clarissa was not thrilled to see me at church this morning, especially when I walked in on Noah's arm. Showing off, she called it, because my dress was store bought in the city, and, unlike her, I happen to have a beau. Rebecca says it hasn't been from lack of trying on her part, either. I pity the man who gets trapped in her web. She's one of the most disagreeable persons I've ever had the dubious pleasure of knowing, except maybe the ever-charming Violet Merriweather. The two should be great friends if the ever meet. Lord help us all if that ever happens—Andrew and I wouldn't be safe anywhere on earth.

Uncle William and his family weren't able to make it after all. Even without them, our little house was full, though. Amanda, Joseph, and Sarah seemed to multiply. Everywhere you turned, one of them was there asking for you to look at this, come see that, or tie this sash, that ribbon. Little Daniel, still in his silent stage, latched onto Noah the entire afternoon. It was sweet. Noah has definitely been accepted as part of the family even though the thought of getting married hadn't crossed our minds. Aunt Martha is already talking about when our children will be growing up!

31 March, 1902
Monday

I wish I had never gone to the bonfire. Wait, no I don't, because then Noah and I would probably not have had the conversation we just had in the kitchen. And I'm glad we did.

It all started with Clarissa. Well, if I say that, I'd have to rightfully say that it—her intense dislike of me—started the day, years ago, when Adam Butler, then the object of her affections, discovered I'm not afraid of bugs and stopped paying attention to her. Not that I cared one way or the other about him. The girl can carry a grudge longer than anyone else I know. Except Luke Forlani, but I don't technically know him, just of him.

All of us—Andrew, Rebecca, Christopher, Noah, and I—had gone over to the Thomas' together. Once there, we all split up; Andrew found some of his old pals, Rebecca and Christopher found their friends, and Noah and I found a perch on the back of someone's wagon. Things were fine until a bottle or two of whiskey was passed around.

Apparently Clarissa gets even cattier (and her tongue gets looser) than normal when she's tipsy, because when I was looking for Andrew so we could go home, she made sure to stand within ear shot while saying some very snide things about why I went to New York City and what I do there. I'm not going to write them down because it shall be a long time before I forget what she said and I don't even want to remember them.

I couldn't sleep—her words kept running through my head—so I went downstairs to make a cup of tea. Noah couldn't sleep either-he was getting a drink of water. After we recovered from the...shock?... of me seeing him bare chested and him seeing me in my nightgown, I made us a pot of hot cocoa and hunted up some cookies. It was nice sitting in the darkened kitchen with him. We haven't had a lot of moments alone, just the two of us. Everything has been too busy. That's one thing I like about being in Harlem. Any time we'd like to be by ourselves, we can go to a park or find a quiet bench in a museum. Here it's not that easy. There are too many people underfoot.

While we were drinking our cocoa, I asked why he was up so late. Andrew kept him up he said (Andrew tends to be a little loud in his sleep after he's had alcohol) and then asked why I was up. That wasn't quite so easy to explain.

He waited patiently while I stared into my mug, trying to gain control of my emotions so I could tell him everything. The best place to start was the whole Adam Butler incident, so I told him about that and other things leading up to tonight. It made it easier to tell him all the things she said. Except for what she said about me being stuck up and putting on airs, and that I only liked Noah because he was a city boy and not because of his looks or personality. That was still hard to tell. And here I go writing down what Clarissa said when I promised myself I wouldn't. Oh, well.

Noah stared at the plate of sugar cookies between us for a moment before saying anything. "I know I'm not... the best looking..."

I had to interrupt to say, "I like your looks. I like you just the way you are." I didn't have to see his face in the lamplight to know he was blushing.

After several more moments he reached across the table and put his hand on mine. "You're not any of those things she said." He paused like he was gathering his courage to say what was on the tip of his tongue. Over the past three months or so I've begun to appreciate those pauses. They show he's sincere. "To me...to me you'll always be a lady."

We sat like that, hands touching, smiling at each other in the semidarkness, until I sneezed. Obviously, that broke the moment.

While I was clearing away the dishes, I said something, I don't remember exactly what now, about the thunderstorms that always seem to brew whenever Clarissa and I get near each other, and Noah reminded me to two things. One, that you have to have rain in order to have a rainbow. The other, every rainbow has its pot of gold at the end. You just have to know where to look for it.

1 April, 1902
Tuesday

Noah kissed me. Oh, he's kissed me before on the cheek and once on the forehead, but never on the lips.

The four of us had gone on a picnic this afternoon. Some friends of Becca's were coming over this evening, so she went on home ahead of us and Andrew walked with her, letting me and Noah dawdle as much as we wanted. Back at the house, we stayed on the porch, in the swing, to savor the moment. Swinging back and forth, listening to the birds in the tree behind us, with Noah next to me, was wonderful, so ver peaceful. When the swing slowed to a stop, we sat there enjoying it all. He said my name, I looked up at him, he said, "Verity, I...," eyes wide behind his eyeglasses, then just leaned in and kissed me. No fireworks of choruses sung by angels as in a romance, but it was nice. Sweet and gentle just like he is. I'm afraid I've been in a daze ever since. A blissful one, yes, but a daze all the same.

Last night Noah said that you have to know where to look to find the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. I found mine right here, and to me he's worth more than a thousand pots of gold.