by S. C. Wilson
The wonderful smells of Thanksgiving nudged Jesse awake. She inhaled deeply before opening her eyes, mouth watering at the thought of all the delicious food she was going to eat later that day. Abby and Aponi had been working hard at trying to perfect their cooking on the wood-burning stove, and judging by the aroma drifting through the house, it was obvious they had started to master it.
Jesse dressed and went into the twin’s room. Jim was fast asleep, but Gwen was standing up in her crib, the rail gripped tightly in her pudgy hands as she swayed back and forth on unsteady legs.
“Pippa,” Gwen babbled, reaching out with one hand.
Jesse leaned down and lifted her from the crib. “Pippa to you too,” she said, kissing her daughter on the cheek.
Gwen’s tiny hands cupped Jesse’s face. “Pippa,” she said again in her tiny voice.
Jesse carried Gwen downstairs making her feel like she was riding horseback. She bounced her up and down in her arms all the way into the kitchen, making an abrupt stop next to Abby that caused Gwen to burst into laughter.
Jesse said, “Abs, she said her first word.”
Abby wiped her hands on her apron. “What did she say?” she asked expectantly.
“Sounded like Pippa. I don’t know what it means, but she said it twice.”
Abby smiled and placed a loving hand on her arm. “I think she is trying to say Papa.”
An awkward yet familiar feeling enveloped Jesse. A few times now, she had heard Abby trying to teach the twins to call her Papa and had never felt comfortable with the epithet. “I actually like Pippa better than Papa anyway,” she said, cheerfully.
“Well then, Pippa it is. Can you put her in her chair so I can feed her?” Abby said. “And will you go get Jim?”
She put Gwen in one of the highchairs next to their drop-leaf table. “Do you think when they’re older they’ll understand why I chose to live this way?”
“I do,” Abby said, picking up the dishtowel from the table. “We have plenty of time before they’ll be old enough to understand those things.”
“I know. I just don’t ever want to hurt them.”
Abby stood on her tiptoes and kissed her on the cheek. “We’ll figure it out later. I promise. Now, run up and get your son,” she said, playfully snapping the towel on Jesse’s behind in an effort to lighten her mood.
As the mantle clock in the parlor struck twelve, Jesse and Toby put the twins in their highchairs next to the dining room table and took their seats. Jesse gazed across the table at the wonderful array of food Abby and Aponi had prepared. She stood and picked up the large carving knife and fork, more than ready to slice into the golden-brown turkey.
“Wait,” Aponi said, raising her hand. “I—we have something to say.”
Jesse placed the utensils back on the table and took her seat.
Aponi looked at Toby seated next to her. “You want to tell?” she said, placing her hand over his.
Toby shook his head. “No,” he said, his thumb grazing her fingers. “You tell ‘em.”
Aponi’s face, normally introspective, lit up when she blurted out proudly, “I’m with child.”
Jesse glanced over at Abby. She got the sense she had already heard the news since the two women had grown as close as sisters. “Congratulations, you two. I’m so happy. Just think, our kids will grow up playing together. When are you due?” Jesse asked.
“Should be-be here sometime in June,” Toby said.
“I can’t wait to meet my nephew—or niece. This year we have something extra to be thankful for,” Jesse said, standing. She carved the bird, placing several slices of meat on each plate. She put extra meat on Aponi’s.
Although Jesse could hear the conversation flowing around her, her mind was focused on her blessings. They had made it to San Francisco without troubles. They’d found a wonderful home and were blessed to be all together. She and Toby both had jobs. The twins were healthy. Toby and Aponi were going to be parents. There were so many things she felt thankful for this year. So many, in fact, it was almost frightening. If anyone knew how a happy life could be torn away in an instant, it was her.
That evening, with the twins under the care of their aunt and uncle, Cuffy escorted Jesse and Abby in the carriage to the Bowman home. After thanking him, Jesse offered her elbow to Abby, and they made their way toward the stately home. They stopped at the oversized double doors that were each adorned with black-forged horse head knockers. When Jesse reached out and tapped the wrought-iron ring against the strike plate, Abby quickly ran her hands down the front of her periwinkle blue dress in a last minute effort to look more presentable. Both doors opened simultaneously and Andrew appeared on the other side, dapper in his black suit and white gloves. He greeted them warmly and invited them inside.
Jesse shook his hand and stepped into the enormous entryway. Abby stared in amazement as she took in the interior of the home. Though she had never known indigence in her life, it still took her breath away to be in a place like this. It had changed considerably since the last time she had been inside, and it was the most extravagant home she had ever seen: high ceilings, marble flooring, high-end décor, and crystal chandeliers.
Abby’s eyes landed on the stairway built up against the wall. She approached it slowly, taking in all the elaborate details of Jesse’s handiwork. She had caught glimpses of it now and then when Jesse was working out in the barn late at night, but she had no idea it would turn into such a breathtaking finished product. She ran her hand over the finial atop the newel post. “It’s beautiful,” she said, looking at Jesse.
Andrew said, “My sentiments exactly. Now, please follow me.” He led them toward the parlor and slid open the pocket doors. “Mr. and Mrs. McGinnis to see you, sir.”
Sam stood in front of the fireplace, brandy snifter in hand. Helga, her dress billowed in layers beside her, sat on a large embroidered couch.
For the next hour, Jesse and Abby listened intently as they regaled them with stories of the wonderful excursions they’d had on their honeymoon. Neither Jesse nor Abby were able to get a word in edgewise. When they had finished sharing all the details of their lavish trip, Sam asked Jesse to accompany him to his office. She glanced at Abby before leaving the room, noticing Abby was still fidgeting with her dress. For some reason, she had been doing that all evening.
Sam closed the door to his office. “Have a seat,” he said, pointing to one of the leather armchairs facing his desk. He walked over to a cabinet and retrieved a crystal decanter and two glasses. After placing them on the desk, he took a seat in a large leather chair, and opened an ornate box on the desktop. He removed two cigars and handed one to her. He held his cigar in his mouth and poured them each a glass of scotch.
Sam placed the glass stopper back in the decanter, and then struck a match under his desk and lit his cigar. He waved the match a few times before flipping it into the ashtray. The odor of sulfur swiftly gave way to the rich aroma of tobacco. Glancing at the end of his cigar, he seemed to contemplate his words before he spoke. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. “Mr. Tidwell tells me you were the one who did all the work on the staircase,” he said, tossing her the matches.
Jesse fumbled as she caught the small box. “I just finished off what was already started.”
Sam took another puff. She watched the glowing tip of the cigar, waiting on him to continue.
He stood up and reached for a rolled up document on a shelf behind him. Pushing everything on the desktop aside, he unrolled a set of blueprints. He used his scotch glass to hold down one edge of the paper and the palm of his hand to hold the other.
She stood to get a closer look.
“These are the plans for the addition. Once the house next door is torn down, this will be going up in its place. It will attach to this house flawlessly. No one will ever know it started out as two buildings.”
Sam paused to puff once more before he continued. Using the tip of his cigar, he pointed at a spot on the bl
ueprint. “You see this? It’s where the main staircase will be,” he said. He raised his eyes from the paper to her with intensity. “Notice how it sits in the middle of the grand foyer? It will be the first thing people see when they enter. I don’t want just a plain staircase. I want a piece of art—I want a masterpiece.”
Jesse focused her attention on the blueprint and saw the area indicated for the staircase. Her eyes wandered further down the plans. She saw it, spelled out in black ink: Bowman Estate. Phase number two: Estimated cost of one hundred and fifty thousand.
Sam lifted his glass and released the blueprint, causing the whole thing to neatly roll up on itself. He reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat and pulled out an envelope, handing it to her emphatically.
“What is it?” she asked.
He took his seat again. “Open it and find out.”
She sat back down and opened the envelope. It was full of money. More money than she had ever seen.
Sam smiled warmly at her. “I’ve seen what you can do and I want to hire you to build the new staircase. You interested?”
Still taken aback by the contents of the envelope, she paused for a second to regain her words. “Of course I’m interested. But I work for Mr. Tidwell.”
“You work for Mr. Tidwell,” he said with a cheeky smile, “but Mr. Tidwell works for me. I already had a discussion with him this morning.” He pointed toward the blueprints, jabbing toward it with his cigar for emphasis. “I want the entire project completed by July first. Mr. Tidwell is hiring as many men as he needs to meet my deadline so he can get by without your help. I want you to focus your attention on the staircase.” He tapped his cigar, knocking ash into the ashtray. “Helga and I think you did exquisite work on the one out there. It far exceeded what we were expecting. We decided to pay you a small bonus of sorts—three hundred dollars. And the other thousand is for a down payment should you take on my proposal. It should be plenty to support your family while you’re working on it. I’ll pay another thousand upon completion.” He leaned back in his chair. “So, two thousand to do the job. You interested?”
Jesse dropped her cigar when she heard him say two thousand dollars. She was glad she hadn’t lit it yet. She reached down, picked it off the floor and settled back in the chair. Reluctantly, she put the envelope on the desk and slid it toward him.
Sam’s brow furrowed in confusion. He leaned up on his desk. “What’s wrong? Isn’t it enough? To be clear, the money is just for your labor. Every business around here knows who I am. I have accounts all over. You take Cuffy and he’ll assist you in getting any supplies you need. Just put it on my account.”
She was speechless.
He took her silence as disinterest, which only enticed him further. In an effort to sweeten the deal, he said, “Tomorrow, all the furnishings in the house next door are going to be auctioned off. I was going to include all those tools out in the carriage house since I have no need for them. I know you’ve been using them. Tell you what. You can have them.” He set the cigar in the ashtray and placed his finger on the envelope. “So, all those tools and two thousand dollars. Do we have a deal?” he asked, pushing the envelope back across the desk.
Sam was a dealmaker, and Jesse was beginning to feel the power of his persuasive skills. Still, she made no move to take the envelope. “I’d love to do this for you, but I can’t. I know how to carve wood, but I don’t know how to build a staircase like you want. Figuring out the bones of it…well I’ve never built anything like that. You need someone who knows how to construct it properly. It wouldn’t be right to take your money.”
Sam picked up his glass and leaned back in his chair again. He swirled the scotch as he contemplated the dilemma. Then he downed the liquor before placing his glass back on the desk. “How about I have Mr. Tidwell and his crew frame it out? Then, you finish it off with your carving work. After all, that’s what everyone is going to see. I’ll still pay what I offered. So, what do you say?” He drummed his fingers on the desk as he waited on her reply.
She picked up her glass and tossed back the scotch. “Now that I can do,” she said, cringing as the alcohol burned her throat.
He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the edge of the desk. He took another drag of the cigar and blew the smoke toward the ceiling. “Not that I have any doubts about your skills,” he said, “but I suggest you do your best work. I’m having a gala on July Fourth to celebrate the completion of my estate. People from all over are going to be here. They’ll see your work up close.” He drew on the cigar again.
Jesse was grateful he was blowing the smoke upward—between that and the scotch, she was starting to feel woozy.
“I want you and Abby to come. My gut says once people see what you can do they will be lining up to hire you. What you do…well, it’s art. And people pay big money for that, especially around here.” He swung his feet off the desk and stood. “All right, I’ve kept you long enough. Let’s go join the women. Ulayla made her famous peach pie.”
Jesse folded the envelope, and put it in the pocket of her trousers. Though it was only filled with paper, she felt heaviness in the envelope—a representation of power that she had never been acquainted with.
She knew exactly what she was going to do with some of the money. First thing in the morning, she was going to meet with the Andersons’ attorney and purchase the house on Taylor Street, giving the deed to Abby as a Christmas present. She followed Sam to the door. “Can you not mention any of this to Abby? I have something special I want to do for her. It’s a surprise.”
He smiled perceptively. “I suggest the place on Sacramento Street. It’s Helga’s favorite.”
She hadn’t a clue what he was talking about. Her confusion must have shown on her face because he went on to clarify.
“The one thing all women have in common is shopping. Especially when it involves getting a new dress. Am I right?”
Jesse nodded. He was right. It hadn’t dawned on her until then how worn Abby’s periwinkle dress had become. The blue had faded so much it could hardly be called blue any longer. The formerly white cuffs were now more of a cream color. In that moment, Jesse knew the reason for Abby’s fidgeting—she must have felt like a worn out rag doll sitting next to Helga, who was dressed like royalty. Jesse still found Abby to be the most glamorous woman in any room no matter what she was wearing, but she realized what a boost of confidence an enhanced wardrobe would bring to her.
“Tell you what,” he said, putting his hand on the doorknob. “I’ll send Cuffy over to your place tomorrow with the carriage. Say, around one? He knows the places Helga likes to shop and can take her around the city.” He opened the door. “And don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The room was bright when Abby woke. Realizing she had overslept and her babies must be hungry, she threw back the covers and fought to get her arms into the sleeves of her housecoat as she hurried across the hall. Finding both cribs empty, she went downstairs and found Jesse on her hands and knees chasing after the twins on the parlor floor.
“Morning,” Jesse said. “They were up early so I scrambled ‘em up some eggs.”
Abby tied the belt of her housecoat as she went to sit on the sofa. “You should’ve woken me up,” she said, yawning.
Jim turned his head and looked at his mother through his long bangs. A crooked smile came across his face. He crawled over to her as fast as he could and started to fuss.
Abby picked him up and brushed the dark black hair away from his eyes. “Want to help me cut his hair this weekend?”
“Sure,” Jesse said, picking a piece of dried egg out of Gwen’s blonde locks. “I have a couple errands to run this morning. I shouldn’t be gone too long.”
“Aponi will be up soon,” Abby said, rocking Jim in her arms. “If you wait, I can go with you.”
“I’m just going to look at some lumber for Sam. You’d be bored to tears.” She kissed Gwen and go
t up off the floor. “I should be back before you and Aponi leave this afternoon, but if I’m not, Toby can watch ‘em.”
Abby tilted her head and kissed her goodbye. “Be careful.”
“I will.”
Jesse swung astride Buck and rode down the tree-lined street, eager to get to the attorney’s office. To pull off the surprise she had planned, she had fibbed to Abby about what had transpired in Sam’s office the night before, keeping secret how much he had actually given her. Even though she had to deceive her, it was going to be worth it when she got to see the look on Abby’s face when she handed her the deed to the house. She too was beyond thrilled at the prospect of actually owning property.
Distracted in her euphoria, she didn’t notice the familiar carriage parked in front of The Bay Water or Sam as he stepped down. It took a moment for her brain to register that someone was calling out her name as she passed by. She pulled on the reins and turned Buck around.
“Morning! Have you come up with any ideas yet?” Sam asked as he brushed a speck of dust from the lapel of his tailored three-piece suit.
“No. Not yet. I like to see the wood I’ll be using first. It kind of speaks to me in a way.”
He nodded approvingly. “Monday, I have two cargo ships coming in from Europe. While Helga and I were there, we purchased a lot of materials we want used on the home. I have all kinds of exotic lumber on board. We can go down to the wharf and you can have a look for yourself.” He pointed over his shoulder to the building behind him. “Have you been inside The Bay Water?”
“No. I noticed it before but haven’t had a chance to go inside.”
Sam turned toward the carriage. “Cuffy, see to Mr. McGinnis’s horse.” He turned back to face her. “Come inside and I’ll show you what it looks like now.” He took a drag from his thin cigar.
