Father Nicholas Smithson stood by the side door and shook hands after early mass at Saint Mary's Catholic Church. Father Athanasius Kircher was greeting parishioners coming out of the main door, but some always left by the quicker route.
He smiled as he saw three faces that had been missing for a month. "Lolly Aossey! Welcome back! How did the twins take to the field session?"
"It's good to see you, Father Nick." Lolly Aossey sent a tired look back at her older children. "Mimi and Larry are both teething." Cathy and Matt were each holding a plump baby. Behind them beamed Jim McNally, the proud paterfamilias, a hand on the shoulder of each teenager. If Nick knew anything about the older McNally children, it was to keep them from bolting.
Lolly brightened. "Since I'm back, come to dinner after the last mass? Jim's apprentices should be back from Countess Kate's by then. It'll just be the usual summer fare, but I'd love to tell you what all happened."
"I'm sorry, but there are a couple of out of town visitors I want to see. Otherwise, I'd very much like to." Nick's regret was real. The conversation and the cooking at the McNally house were usually both lively.
Jim McNally smiled. "Bring them along. The more the merrier. That's what the Sunday usual is for."
Matt rolled his eyes. "The usual has got to be better than Cathy heating up one of Aunt Dina's casseroles."
"Ha! As if we'd want to eat your scrambled eggshells again!" Cathy's tone was sharp enough to cause the baby in her arms to stir.
"Let's go home, kids. I doubt Father Nick is interested in your unsupervised culinary attempts. If you want the usual, y'all have a bit of chopping to do." Jim pushed the kids out onto the sidewalk. "We'll see you and your visitors at two, Father."
Nick sighed as he waved farewell. Jim was right. After his visit last month, he'd had no further interest in the culinary attempts of either Matt or Cathy. Fortunately, today's dinner promised to be more interesting.
Nick regretfully decided that eating another bowl of the berries and cream would be gluttonous. There were still the remains of the wheaten salad and mutton pastries on the table. Across from him, Lion Gardiner and Henry Gage were enjoying the delights of fresh tomatoes with salt. Several conversations buzzed around.
"Ja, Mrs. Aossey. He says that when I've helped finish up this circular divider, and written the paper on it, I'll probably only have a year or so left until journeyman."
"Amsterdam? Really? If you could send on a letter for me, I'd be most grateful. Jake Koch has set up a correspondence back and forth from Augsburg, but I'd like to correspond with the Netherlands also. I've expanded from just optics to instruments, as well, but they have mighty fine opticians."
"No. Steel like this requires both nickel and chromium. Mom's graduates have found nickel in tailings from more than one mine, but no chromium yet. When? Any year, now."
"About half girls, again, Marie. And at the ceremony on Wednesday, Ron Koch told me that the instrument maker that Jake is visiting has started training his own daughter. You won't be alone when it comes time to do your journeying."
"No, sir. The ballet company has moved to Magdeburg, so there aren't any performances here this week. But I hope to go to school there this fall, if Dad thinks we have enough money."
Everyone focused on Jim. He said, "Honey, there's no question that we've got money. We've been putting aside your mother's fees for the field camp into a couple different funds, and they've done very well. The problem is that the twins' early arrival tapped us out for this year, as far as liquid cash goes."
"Daaaad! I've got enough money of my own from dancing to pay those fees!" Cathy wailed as only a fourteen-year-old girl could.
"But it's not liquid, and won't be for another couple of years," Jim said.
Young Cathy had a gift, and gifts were to be cultivated. Nick spoke up. "Don't spend so much time worrying about the future that you ignore what you have. Cathy should be studying with Mrs. Matowski."
Lolly sighed. "We're trying. But the only thing that would give us enough cash for the fees would be to sell the Subaru. No way are we selling the SUV. And you know that selling something as expensive as a car usually takes a month or so to get a buyer okayed by the bank."
"Subaru? That would be the car engine that makes a good airplane?" Lion Gardiner asked. "How much were you going to ask for it?"
"More than I'd feel comfortable talking about over a family dinner," said Jim. "Part of it depends on how much they cost now, compared to how much it would cost to make one. Marie, how long do you think it would take until your father can make an airplane engine at his foundry?"
Marie Schmidt, Jim's older apprentice, looked up. "Papa's foundry couldn't any time soon. He's too committed to making the sewing machines. But someone could make one by hand, if they had the right materials. Right, Thomas?"
Thomas Swartz gave a wry smile. "That's why I'm here. I'm learning how to make all kinds of small instruments, and glasses and other things, so that my father and people like him can inspect small work. But the materials—?"
"—Any year, now." The chorus came from around the table.
Henry Gage leaned forward, tomatoes forgotten. "Mr. McNally. We've come on behalf of a client who's not interested in waiting for 'any year now' to come. When would you be interested in discussing whether you think we could be approved by your banker? We have a letter of credit from the Wisselbank."
"You can worry about that tomorrow. Today, come look at the car." Jim stood up and beckoned to both visitors.
Nick winced. He'd learned what the visitors were doing in Grantville. Now he just needed to know who they were representing, before the banker cleared the letter. It was easier to worry about tomorrow than he would like.
As Henry Gage and Lionel Gardiner left the McNally home, they were talking quickly, and waving their hands at each other. Nick was certain he caught a "vroom" coming out of Gage, but that could have been a trick of the breeze. They had certainly enjoyed their spin in the Subaru, "to make sure that the engine is in working condition."
Nick waited until the visitors were a block away. "Jim, aren't you wondering who the eventual buyer of this car is? For all you know, it could be someone who wants to destroy everything you stand for."
"And you're the one who says not to worry, Father." Jim sounded strangely smug. "I've just helped ensure tomorrow."
"What?"
"Think! What's the first thing that Father Larry—oops, Cardinal Mazzare—does when he has a spare moment?"
"He fixes cars."
"Yep. He fixes cars. And airplanes take a lot more maintenance than cars do," Jim said.
"So? Someone could still try to destroy Grantville."
"They can try."
"By all accounts, those Croats came too close."
"To make the airplane work well, they'll have to develop a whole support system. They'll need technicians, and measuring instruments, and eventually, they'll need materials."
"So you're just helping to develop someone else's economy," Nick replied.
"There's no "just helping" about it. Lolly's driven home to me that the only way we'll get what we want for things like medical supplies is for everyone to be growing and changing. Everyone. Everywhere. Any year now."
Nick nodded. He knew just how close a call the twins had had. The night when he'd christened the early babies at Leahy Medical Center was still etched in his brain. "So by selling the car, you're removing worries from tomorrow?"
"There've been other interested buyers. They just didn't sound like they were able to follow through. Those two, though? Wherever they go, they'll help build the world my children need."
Jim turned around, and clapped Nick on the shoulder. "C'mon into the house, Father Nick. If I know Lolly, she's put together a basket of food for the rectory for tomorrow. Worry not."