Forget-Me-Not Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Candy Candy and all characters belong to Keiko Nagita, character images to Yumiko Igarashi and anime to Toei Animation.

Thank you all for following Forget-Me-Not. Your encouraging feedback means more than you can imagine, and I truly appreciate your continued support. When I published last chapter, I thought by the time I publish the next, the war in Ukraine would have ended. Unfortunately and sadly, this is not true. Let’s continue to pray that it will not last much longer. 🙏🏻

I didn’t have much time proofreading this chapter regrettably, so if you find anything in this chapter unclear or wrong, please kindly let me know so that I can clarify or correct. Hope you like my latest drawing of Candy!

-Ms Puddle

Chapter 10

“Good night, Annie,” says Patty weakly.

“Good night, Patty! Too bad you’ve changed your mind,” Annie replies. Patty was invited to sleepover at the Brightons for another night, but on their way back to Chicago, Patty experienced motion sickness.

Wallace drops off Annie first mainly because Patty’s place is nearer to his family’s mansion. He didn’t know Patty felt unwell. The ladies were so quiet that he thought they had fallen asleep. It had been a long day after all.

Yet, being curious, he asks, “Did it happen to you this morning, Miss Patricia?”

Patty quietly shakes her head. At this moment, Annie suggests to her, “How about you come into my house anyway? My mother knows what to do and I can keep you company.”

Annie knows Patty’s parents are at a Christmas party and may not be home yet.

But Patty only smiles; she looks very pale. Annie gets the hint and bids them both good night. At that, Wallace is about to get off, but Annie stops him, saying, “Wallace, don’t worry about it. I can open the door myself.”

But Wallace insists on walking Annie to the front entrance. When the housekeeper shows up, Wallace says, “Good night, Miss Annie. I’d better go now.”

Then she reveals her suspicion. Since he was unaware of Patty’s relationship with Stear, during the ride, he brought up the fact that he had received the invitation and could have attended the memorial service a while back. Because neither of the ladies responded, Wallace sensed it was time to shut up. Around ten minutes of dead silence later, Annie started a new topic, but Patty had not chimed in ever since. Before long, Annie lost herself in deep thoughts too.

Now that Annie has filled him in, Wallace feels bad, asking, “What should I do now?”

“I guess we should respect her wish to be alone,” she replies. “Anyway, thanks again for giving us a ride today.”

He wants to say he’s the one who should thank the ladies; because of them, he got to spend hours with Candy, which was way longer than he had ever dreamed of. However, he utters, “Please thank Archibald for making the arrangement for me.”

As she nods, he waves goodbye and runs back to his car. By the time he takes a peek at the rear seat, Patty has dozed off, her glasses slid down her nose. In repose, she no longer looks edgy and surprisingly pretty, her thick eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks in the dim lighting. On one hand, he’s glad that she has complete trust in him. On the other hand, pity rises inside him, wondering what drove her boyfriend to leave everything behind. It was a point of no return in so many aspects of things.

With renewed respect for Alistair, Wallace does not have the heart to wake up the sleeping beauty. Her house is about twenty minutes from here, so he figures he can wait till he arrives at her place. But on his way there, a car comes out of nowhere, driving at an alarming speed. To avoid collision, Wallace spontaneously jerks the steering wheel. Due to snow and slushy mess on the road, the car skids and ends up hitting the curb.

Wallace grumbles before getting out of his car, “What a crazy driver! Must be drunk!”

Patty rouses and looks around; she recognizes the secluded neighbourhood, so she alights and approaches her friend. He’s checking if there’s any obvious damage, and what he dreads has materialized. One of the tires is now flat. As he mutters something under his breath, noticeably peeved, she buttons up her overcoat and timidly says, “I know my way from here, on foot.” She hardly knows him, and she’s loath to get stuck with him.

“Then what about me?” he retorts, hiding his frustration beneath a wry smile.

Once she realizes her self-absorbedness, she murmurs, her eyes downcast, “What a selfish whim I am.”

But he instantly utters, embarrassed, “No no, Miss Patricia!”

“I’m serious. I should not desert a friend in time of need, and it’s snowing.”

“It’s nothing. I can fix it. It just takes time,” he explains. “Unlike my brother. He’s an engineer.”

She drops her head, her heart constricted. Stear would have fixed this in no time. Then she hears him add, “But a gentleman should not let his lady friend walk in the dark by herself, for sure not in Chicago, especially this area! Besides, you’re feeling unwell.”

Before she came to the United States, Stear had told her that Chicago had long registered a consistently high crime rate, so she mumbles, wrapping her wool scarf tighter around her neck, “I’m better now after the nap, but you’re right. Thanks for your kindness.”

“No sweat.”

After making sure his car is locked, he gives her his umbrella. “I suppose you need this.”

She’s touched. “How about you?”

“It’s only dry snow,” he says, putting on a beret and a coat. Then he gestures with his hand, saying to her, “Would you like to lead the way, Miss Patricia?”

She thanks him with a grateful smile and opens his umbrella. As surmised, she’s not chatty, at least not with him, so he attempts a different conversation starter, “Candy told me you’ve applied for a few colleges?”

When she nods in response, he sincerely expresses his admiration, “I have not met any young ladies in my social circle who’s keen to attend a college. Most of them grow up with their governesses, and after their introduction to society, they are basically waiting for the day to be transferred from one luxurious life to another through marriage.”

Then he continues telling her why he found Candy very special. “She honours her calling in life and embraces it,” he concludes after a lengthy but coherent speech.

Patty agrees wholeheartedly and even discloses how she was inspired by Candy’s boldness to face the discrimination and harassment at St. Paul’s Academy.

Wallace thinks, so she originated from London, just as I have suspected.

She concludes, “We are equal in God’s eyes; men and women are created in the image and likeness of God, in spite of our origins.”

“Well said!” He readily agrees, adoring Candy even more after hearing her account.

“So I stood up for what I believed in, which was… unprecedented.”

He can imagine, but aloud he remarks, “You must be proud.”

“No, I was scared, but it was liberating…” she replies in a low voice, looking down. “I mustered up the courage not to let my so-called friends dictate how I should feel or act anymore.”

Then Wallace asks about what her friends made her do; once he gets a vague idea, he can barely contain his indignation. However, when he asks for details about the bullying, Patty evades the issue, “If Candy wants to tell you more, she will.”

“The Lagans,” he says nonetheless, “are notoriously spoiled.”

She returns a polite smile without another word, but he goes on, “In fact, because of them, my parents decided not to send us to study abroad like the Cornwell brothers-”

He halts abruptly, inwardly cursing himself for his blunder. However, whatever he says next might only make things worse. Then her question comes when she perceives that he’s mortified, “Did Annie tell you?”

When he nods, she breathes out a long sigh, staring into the distance. As they continue strolling, other than their footsteps and the cars occasionally passing by them, they are completely silent. So far there are but a few pedestrians far away from them.

Five minutes later, Wallace breaks the silence, “Miss Patricia, what do you plan to study?”

Patty is hesitant to tell him about herself, so she replies, “I haven’t finalized my decision yet. How about you? What’s your major?”

As a matter of fact, none of the ladies asked him this question today, including Candy. Needless to say, he was disappointed about that. Aloud, he begins, “I’ve always wanted to be a journalist, but-”

“Journalist?” she echoes, interrupting him.

“Yes, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she answers briefly, shaking her head slowly from side to side.

“But too bad,” he continues, “my parents-”

By now, they’ve reached the key junction near their destination, and she cuts him off again, “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Ritchie.” She addresses him using his last name to keep it formal. “The snow is getting heavier, and my place is around the corner.” She doesn’t want her neighbours to spot them walking together.

“You must be tired of me,” he utters in a mocking tone. “I got it.”

“No, I don’t mean that,” she promptly denies, passing the umbrella back to him regardless. The moment he steps forward and grabs the shaft right above the handle, she releases her grip and dips her head to avoid his eyes, mumbling, “Thanks for walking me home.”

She lives in an affluent neighbourhood like his family, whereas the Brightons have recently moved and downsized their house, now selling their grand mansion.

“My pleasure, Miss Patricia,” he replies. “But quite frankly, for my peace of mind, let me walk you to the door.”

This morning he picked up the ladies from Annie’s place, so he has no idea what her house looks like. Yet, most of the houses on these streets have manicured lawns behind the fence, and the paths leading from the gates to the front entrances are often obscured by all sorts of bushes.

Only then she remembers, lifting up her chin, “Oh no… I’ve left my bag at Annie’s house!”

Looking her straight in the eyes for the first time, he’s stunned by her charm; she’s shy and always avoids direct eye contact. Not only that, once he realizes he’s within her arm’s reach, his face turns red. Compared to Archibald, Wallace is admittedly inexperienced with ladies.

At this very moment, a well polished black car swishes by and rounds the corner. As the driver pulls the car to a stop, the window on the passenger’s side is rolling down. Then a fashionable lady sticks her head out, looking at them with amusement.

“Patty, I thought you were with Annie? Who’s this good-looking fellow?”

This unexpected encounter jars Wallace out of his daze. Like Miss Patricia, this charming lady wears glasses and also speaks in a British accent; Wallace wonders if she’s Mrs. O’Brien, but her vibrant looks seem to indicate that she’s at most ten years older than Miss Patricia. Is she one of her cousins?

He then turns to look at the lady right beside him; she covers her mouth with a hand, undoubtedly flabbergasted.

=o=o=o=

“Albert,” Candy calls his name in a tender voice. “Wake up.”

His eyes flutter open. Feeling disoriented, he slowly brings his focus to her smiling countenance, her petite frame backdropped with the evening sky. Candy has become such a beauty… wait, where are we?

They are not alone, and yet the deck is not crowded. Albert is half-lying down on a lounge chair, his long legs stretched out. He then recalls the cross-Atlantic trip where Georges escorted young Candy from Pony’s Home to St. Paul’s Academy. Unbeknownst to her, Albert boarded the same ocean liner bound for England but often stayed in his own stateroom to prepare for his works in expanding the family business in London. Back then, when the passengers were boarding, he could see Candy from afar, accompanied by Georges and dressed like a real lady, like right now.

That said, Albert must admit Candy undoubtedly looks more mature than her younger version for the time being. In addition, her sparkling eyes are brimming with adoration.

“The ocean breeze makes me feel chilly… are you cold, my love?”

She shakes her head, a contented smile on her face. “Your Christmas gift to me, this white fur coat, is very warm and snug.”

“Wonderful,” he responds affectionately. “When I passed by a boutique during my business trip, it caught my attention. Its colour reminded me of you, not because of your last name, but because you had been my angel when my morale had been at rock bottom. Not only that, you’re pure and innocent, like fresh snow that hasn’t been contaminated.”

She lowers her gaze and blushes even deeper. The next thing he knows, his right hand reaches out to her; she grasps his hand tightly with her own and gently says, “Albert, we should go now.”

“Why? Are we in a hurry?” he teases. Even though he has no idea why he’s traveling with her and where the ocean liner is taking them, an idea brings a mischievous smile to his lips. “I’d be more than willing to get up if a certain lady lets me kiss her, Candy.”

Just then, someone gives his shoulder a nudge. Who is that?

He promptly turns his head over his shoulder. A little boy in his pajamas is staring at him with a smile on his face. Albert suddenly becomes aware he’s in a dim, tiny office, reclined on a worn out chaise longue and covered by a light blanket. Like the boy, he’s also wearing nightclothes. Why am I with a kid? Where am I?

Though the fingers of dawn are rendering the room grayish blue, at this moment Albert recognizes the pattern of his sleeping suit; he blinks, his head reeled with what took place last night. When a rooster crows, he’s finally awake and remembers the details, including why he’s stayed at the orphanage and spent a night with the boy called Sean.

Nevertheless, Albert can’t help but whip around to look for Candy, but of course she’s no longer here. It was merely a sweet dream… we were in love, heading somewhere together.

“You were talking in your dream, Albert.”

Sean’s comment makes Albert almost lose his composure, but the man pastes a grin on his face, shrugging casually. “Really? What did I say?”

“I just woke up,” he replies, a smile materializing on his face, “but I heard Candy’s name, so I poked you. You want me to find her?”

The boy spent the night sleeping on a thick mat right beside the chaise longue. Last night, when Albert went into the office with Miss Pony and Sister Lane, waiting for Candy to show him whatever she had in mind, Sean appeared out of the blue, sucking his fingers. Just when Sister Lane got up from her chair, intending to bring the boy back to his bed, he melted down, crying and clinging to the male visitor. The man quickly finished his cup of tea and invited the boy to sit on his lap; as soon as the boy settled down, the boy grinned ear to ear and wiped his tears with his own hands. Miss Pony explained that Sean missed his father dreadfully, but his father had unfortunately lost his life in a car accident, and his mother could not afford to raise all the kids on her own. Besides, she had been suffering from a chronic disease.

“Chronic disease?”

“Yes, some form of arthritis, we were told,” answered Sister Lane with a sigh.

When Candy entered the office, she appeared rejuvenated and no longer wearing the red cape. However, Albert did not turn his head; he was talking to Sean, gently stroking the boy’s blond curls. When Albert asked if the boy missed his mother, the boy nodded firmly, biting his lip. Candy was moved to witness that, and despite the fact that the boy was holding back tears, Candy had never seen Sean more content. She surmised the boy’s late father must have blond hair too, because Sean did not act like this when Wallace had been here earlier.

“Wallace?” echoed Albert, looking up at Candy. “Who’s…”

But Candy inadvertently avoided his eyes and brushed the invisible dust from the letter in her hand, her gaze downcast as she spoke, “Here, Granduncle William. This is from Dr. Martin.”

Her reaction essentially answered his question, and a grim picture appeared in Albert’s mind. The young man’s name must be Wallace Ritchie, who visited Candy today… How long have they been seeing each other? Since the memorial service?

Nevertheless, Albert consciously masked his feelings and started reading the enthusiastic reply from Dr. Martin. Needless to say, he was extremely touched by Dr. Martin’s counter-proposal, his dejected feelings transformed into those of excitement.

“Candy, would you want to work for Dr. Martin again?”

“Probably,” she replied, careful not to let her answer sound too glib. She had indeed pondered on that possibility. Albert really knew her more than anyone, but Candy averted her eyes and mumbled in a monotone, “That’s all I wanted to show you.”

He gave an understanding nod and responded by taking an exaggerated look at his watch. “I must go now, Miss-”

Before he finished talking, Sean threw a tantrum and accidentally knocked over the teapot. Spontaneously, Albert pushed the boy away from him, and the instant the lid fell off, spilling the tea, a piercing shriek escaped from Candy.

“Albert!”

That was enough to distract him and caused him to turn in her direction. By then, the tea was dripping over the edge of the desk.

“Ouch!”

He flinched as his thighs were drenched in dark brown liquid; Candy dashed to his side and cried his name again before she dragged him away, her voice filled with anxiety.

While Sister Lane was busy wiping the desk, the boy started panicking, partly in fear of punishment but mainly because he was genuinely worried about the male visitor. Just then, Miss Pony approached the man with a neatly folded towel in her hand, but Candy acted decisively, speaking to Miss Pony, “Let me help him.”

Albert resolutely declined, “No, I can take care of this myself!”

But she ignored his protest and took the towel. “Please follow me, Albert.”

“Can I come too?” Sean whimpered with pleading eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

While Sister Lane said “No” and explained that it was the child’s bedtime, Albert answered, “Yes, Sean, you’re welcome to be my helper. I hope that’s ok, Sister Lane?”

After exchanging glances with her partner, Sister Lane acquiesced and uttered in a stern tone, “Sean, you have to go to bed after this.”

The boy agreed. He then trailed after Candy, holding the visitor’s hand while walking to the boys’ bathroom. When Albert and Sean went in, Candy said, “Albert, I’ll fetch the first-aid kit now.”

But he stopped her by landing a hand on her shoulder. When she spun around, he remarked, his voice not much louder than a whisper, “Candy, it’s worth getting wet because I could hear you say my name again.”

She was nonplussed, her eyes widened and her face flushed with pink. He was going to say that it meant so much to him to see that she still cared about him a lot, but he changed his mind at the last minute.

“Besides, the tea was not burning hot, so it wasn’t too bad. Don’t bother getting the first-aid kit.”

She murmured with a quizzical frown, “Are you sure?”

When he gave her an assuring nod, fixing his eyes on her, she unexpectedly turned on her heel and strode out.

“Where are you going?”

“To get you some clothes to change!”

He doubted there were any clothes that fit him, but he went ahead and gingerly took off his damp trousers. As he dried his legs with the towel, Sean offered his hand, and Albert let him help.

“I really miss my daddy,” the boy muttered. “Can you be my daddy?”

“Unfortunately, no, Sean,” the man replied as tenderly as he could.

“Why not?” The boy did not hide his disappointment at all.

“It’s simple. I’m not married,” Albert answered, smiling however. “I have to find a wife first, and so far I have no luck.”

Sean suggested eagerly, “Candy is good. I like her.”

I wish… But Albert laughed with amusement, hiding his feelings. “It’s not that simple, Sean. When you’re older, you will understand.”

“Not again!” The boy sounded angry, crossing his arms. “All adults speak like that!”

“Ok ok,” Albert came up with an excuse. “Tell you what, I’m afraid I’m too old for her.”

“Too old?” the boy repeated doubtfully. “Why?”

Candy was on her way back to the bathroom; she didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but their conversation threw her off balance. As she tried to register Albert’s words, it suddenly occurred to her that Albert had not legally adopted her. What did he mean by not having any luck? What about Kimberly?

Then she heard what he said about their age difference. Maybe it’s the other way… he thinks I’m too young for him…

Seconds later, she reprimanded herself for dwelling on this issue. After all, she should try to move on and forget him. Hence, she coughed to get their attention.

“Candy, is that you?” asked Albert.

“Yes.”

“Sean, can you bring the clothes to me?”

“Of course!”

The boy then came out, speaking earnestly, “Candy, please tell me you like Albert too.”

“Sean!”

The grown-ups called his name simultaneously. While Candy could not be more embarrassed, Albert urged, “I beg you… hurry up, Sean. I’m cold.”

The boy instantly grabbed the clothes from Candy’s hands and rushed back in.

“Candy?” Albert called her from inside. “What a delight to know you’ve kept my pajamas! I’ve been wondering about that… but-”

“But?” she echoed.

“Does this mean I’m going to stay here tonight?”

“Good question,” she murmured after letting out a sigh of resignation. “We don’t even have a guest room here.”

When the man and the boy walked out from the bathroom, Miss Pony had come to check on them. The sight of Albert dressed in the familiar clothes evoked fond memories of Candy’s precious moments with him back in the apartment. The young lady helplessly glanced away, the logical side of her brain reminding her to address him as granduncle again and ask him to leave the orphanage but the emotional side wishing he would spend the night here.

Her dilemma didn’t last long. He said to her, “I still have my luggage in the car, so I can get changed again and leave.”

Candy’s heart sank upon hearing that; she felt with dismay that she apparently lacked the willpower in this matter. Presently, Miss Pony apologized and then added, “Mr. Ardlay, it’s our responsibility to discipline the children, and I should not have let Sean get his way tonight.”

“It was partly my fault too,” said Albert with a rueful frown. “In any case, I’ve caused you all enough trouble tonight-”

The boy spoke up, half sobbing, “Can’t you stay? It’s snowing out there.”

Miss Pony nodded in agreement. “Sean is right. What do you think, Mr. Ardlay?”

Candy recalled that she wanted to talk to Albert about Mr. Cartwright, so she chimed in, “If you don’t mind, we have an old chaise in the office.” She wanted to append “Granduncle William” but she ended up swallowing the grand title.

“I guess I have no choice then,” Albert acceded after peeking out of a window. The car and the area were covered in a fresh blanket of snow, not to mention it was quite late now. The newly-fallen virgin snow reminded him of his Christmas present for Candy, and he considered giving it to her anyway. He didn’t have to tell her the reasons behind it.

Sean happily clapped his small hands. Inwardly, Albert felt grateful to the boy, so he held the boy’s hand, asking, “Would you like to sleep in the office with me?”

Sean was in raptures, but Miss Pony’s reluctance was obvious. Yet, she gave her consent because taking Sean back to the large bedroom now might disturb the other children’s slumber.

Albert went to bed exhausted but sleep eluded him. He contemplated various possibilities of what he could do to enhance the orphanage. At least there should be a proper guest room. Maybe Candy would leave the orphanage one day, but she would highly likely visit her foster mothers from time to time. Albert reckoned he could now afford a substantial reconstruction, if not expansion, because Mr. Cartwright insisted on selling the land at a price favourable to the young businessman. However, if he proposed a reconstruction plan, he essentially gave away that he was the landowner.

Apart from that, Albert had also been thinking about Candy in the wakeful hours of the night. He had been unaware how much he had missed her tactile contact until after the minor accident. He could have avoided being soaked, but her high-pitched scream, dripped with concern, had had such a profound effect on him that he had to take a look at her face. The very picture of her round, frightened eyes had been heart-stirring, and in a split second, his outlook of his relationship with her had drastically changed. I definitely see some encouraging aspects to our situation! I was disturbed by her indifferent attitude but I’m more convinced than ever that it was a pretense…

Now that his despair had been replaced with hope, he forced himself to relax and tried to blot out all thoughts by listening to Sean’s rhythmic breathing. Maybe I can do something for Sean too… Money will certainly help. Before long, the man succumbed to fatigue.

Then a soft knock at the office door draws Albert’s attention from his thoughts.

“Is that Candy?” Sean asks the man, his small face lit up.

Albert doubts it. Candy likes sleeping in, but he replies, smiling, “Let’s go find out.”

(to be continued…)

=o=o=o=

Writer’s note:

Thank you so much for reading. So glad I could post this just in time for Candy’s birthday! Hope to hear from you soon. 🥰
Stay safe and take care, my friends!