“Oh?”
“Mmmhmm. Doc told him not to walk over a block at a time this week, but he got another bill in the mail today. He wanted it paid right away, so I took the money over to Doc’s office.”
“Hmm…that was nice of you.”
“It was good to get out of the house in the middle of the day.” She paused. “By the way, I met someone quite interesting in the waiting room.”
“Really? Who was that?”
“A woman. Someone you know quite well.”
Al’s right eyebrow formed a V. “Come on. You know I don’t do well with puzzles.”
But ever since she stood up to Henrietta a few hours earlier, just like Gideon facing his enemies, Dottie had felt extra pleased with herself. Now, she sensed her comical bent emerging, something that didn’t happen very often. She feared she might burst into laughter and spoil the surprise.
“You will with this one. This woman wears white gloves, even in November. Her stocking seams are so straight you could measure with them. Her eyes are a flitty sort of blue…”
“Betsy Sievers?”
“No—does Betty have eyes like that?”
“Not exactly, but I did notice she’s got those straight seams…”
“You did? Interesting.”
Al’s prominent cheekbones reddened.
“One more hint. Only one, mind you, Mr. Jensen.”
“All right. Give it to me.”
“She excels at baking, and she’s a lonely woman on the prowl. Oops, I guess that was two.”
“Henrietta? You saw Henrietta?”
“I did. I was careful not to hurry into anything, because I prayed for guidance. Last night, I put out a fleece—asked for one clear sign that I should speak to her about George and the cookies. I wanted to know—really, truly know—that I was meant to do this.”
Al looked off into the distance for a few seconds, then back at her. “You took this task really seriously, I see.”
“Of course I did. I never see Henrietta except at church, but when I walked into the waiting room, there she sat.”
“Let me guess. Her gall bladder?”
“How did you know?”
“Trust me. I know more about that woman’s gall bladder than I do about my own. Henrietta never gives away her baked goods without exacting a price, and I’ve paid that price far too many times.” He peered into her eyes. “So now you know you’re supposed to talk to her?”
“No.” Dottie smiled at Al’s upheld palms. She’d better put him out of his misery. “Now I have talked with her.” She rolled her shoulders back as they stopped at the corner of their street.
His voice rose with interest. “You did? How did it go?”
“Pretty well, I think. I’m a little disappointed she didn’t show up at the house today, though. I could tell when I left that she was thinking it over.”
“You could?” Al touched her elbow as a car whizzed by. He steered her across the street.
“Yes, once she got it straight that the boarding house is not a place of ill repute.” Dottie forgot all about how much her feet hurt tonight, and that her knee acted like a balky mule. The expressions on Al’s face during this conversation were priceless.
“She told you that?”
“That and more. So I laid it on fairly thick about George being so honorable, wanting to pay Doc right away and all. Henrietta has strange ideas about the house—she thinks it’s dirty. And she has a bad picture of Bonnie Mae, too. But you—she thinks you’re a respectable gentleman.”
Al ran his fingers through his hair. “Heaven help us. Oh Dottie, if this works, I tell you, I’ll be indebted to you for life. To be free of Henrietta would be a mighty gift.”
“But then your supply of baked goods would dry up.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about that. I have a back-up plan.”
“What sort of plan?”
They approached her door. Al scooted ahead and held it open for her with a grandiose gesture. “That’s my secret. I’ll be over in about an hour. You don’t mind eating beef and dumplings tonight, do you?”
****
“You know that coal guy?” Bonnie Mae cracked her gum but with a different rhythm than normal.
“Coal guy?”
“The one who made the delivery the other day.”
“Oh, Tom Mosely?”
“Yeah.”
Dottie examined the younger woman’s face. Something important rolled around in that red head, that was for sure. Bonnie, with her flamboyant ways, rarely asked a question in such a serious tone.
“I do know him. Not well, but I think everyone in town recognizes his name because his wife Darlene died last winter of pneumonia. Left him with three children seven and under.”
“Wow, quite a brood. Is he a likeable guy?”
“Likeable? I’ve never heard him cross Helene in all the years he’s delivered here.”
“Well, that says something. You mean, she’s never commanded him to ‘Waste not, want not’?”
“No, but she’s certainly given him ample opportunity to react, always peering over his shoulder and doubting the number of gallons he writes on the slip. But he knows how to practice self-control.”
Bonnie Mae hung around longer than she might have. The timer dinged for her to check the whites soaking in bleach water, but she frittered with some pancake batter left on the side of the griddle while Dottie dried the last of the dishes.
Maybe she could add a little more to what she’d already expressed. “Never heard Helene utter a nasty word about Tom, either. That says even more.”
“Hmm.” Bonnie Mae picked up a bed sheet to fold. Her face flamed, although she tried to mask it by billowing the sheet in front of her.
“Here, let me help you fold that. Sheets go so much better with two people.”
They worked in silence until Bonnie Mae reached the bottom of the clothesbasket. “You know when he’ll be back?”
“Usually once a month. Doesn’t he deliver to your place?”
“I’ll have to check. Know anything else about him?”
“No. Well, let me see. I believe he goes to the Presbyterian Church, and he lives on a fair-sized acreage at the east end of town.”
“The east side?”
“You know, out past the hatchery and the Gordon’s big white house—a couple houses down from there, with yellow shutters, I think.”
“Yeah?” Bonnie Mae paused at the back window on her way to the basement, as if she might see Tom out there, making a delivery.
Chapter Eleven
Dottie cleaned up the table, hoping Al would arrive before she got deep into food preparation for another big supper. When Helene showed her face in the kitchen this morning, she announced that last night’s guests had signed a contract to buy the creamery. Now they would stay at the boarding house while searching for a home.
Twirling a long string of gaudy beads between the two peaks made by the new brassiere she’d bragged about purchasing the day before, Helene looked extra pleased with herself. All Dottie knew was that the couple had good appetites—big ones. She had three pies to make today instead of two, beef roast with mashed potatoes, fresh rolls, a large Jello salad, and scalloped corn for eight. This time, Helene herself suggested the Jello, so Dottie knew she was out to impress.
“You won’t need to stay through the meal, Dorothy, since you came extra early this morning. Just expect more than the normal workload tomorrow.”
The four boarders went straight to the parlor every day after dinner now, eager for more tournament action with Al. Dottie immersed herself in flour and lard, creamed corn, and crushed saltines. The harder she worked, the less she thought about what went on in the dining room. Late in the afternoon, she tidied up the kitchen and put on her wraps.
When she stepped out the back door to go home, he waited for her on the bottom step. The look in his eyes made her heart lurch. Al grabbed her by the shoulders, his long fingers penetrating her wool coat’s t
hick shoulder pads. A jittery sensation edged along her backbone.
An odd light showed in his eyes. Something must have happened this afternoon.
“Dottie, you’re a wonder, do you know that? Henrietta came this afternoon, and started talking to George like nobody’s business. It took him a while to get over his shock, but after a while, they started chatting like old friends.” He led the way around the house and onto the front sidewalk.
“If you say so, I believe it.”
“I tried to slip into the kitchen to tell you, but she and George parked right in front of the swinging door. I thought about going upstairs and down the back way, but figured Helene wouldn’t have appreciated that.”
He squeezed her shoulders again. “How can I thank you?”
“It was your idea. I only opened my mouth when the Gideon sign showed me I had no choice.”
“You ought to take more credit. You were brave. You made a decision, and good came of it. I’m proud of you.” He helped her down the last step and steered her toward home.
Proud of her…Al? He kept hold of her elbow as if he owned her arm.
Dottie didn’t know what to make of his statement. Parents were proud of their children for earning good grades or doing what was right. But she couldn’t quite conceive of Al being proud of her. He must have sensed her dilemma.
“You’re not the type to confront people, and that’s a good quality. But this time, you let loose—stepped beyond what you’d normally consider doing. I don’t often do that myself, so I know how much courage it takes.”
The “I’m proud of you” part of Al’s admission still swarmed her mind. “Courage?”
“Yes, courage. People don’t realize how much of it they have until they use it. Everyone thinks it only counts in battle, but everyday courage like what you showed inspires me.”
She had no idea what to say. Which, as Mama used to say, indicated the perfect time to say nothing.
Al gestured like an orator behind a podium. “Most of all, I’m excited for George. If he and Henrietta keep hitting it off, who knows what might happen? Wouldn’t it burn Helene if George ended up living in the oldest, most respectable house in town?”
Dottie chuckled. “You’re a born matchmaker, Al. I never would have pictured you this way.”
“Me neither. But it’s kind of fun, don’t you think?”
Dottie pulled her collar up against a brisk breeze. Before they got to Third Street, sleety rain slashed at their faces. “The only thing is, George would have to hear about Henrietta’s gallbladder till he’s in the grave.”
Al laughed out loud. A few minutes farther on, he motioned to the right. “Turn in here.”
“Here” turned out to be Almira’s Café. Dottie pushed back her dripping hair. “I must look a sight.”
Al grinned, a raindrop balanced on the tip of his nose. “Me too, but who cares? How about I treat you to a California hamburger? Otherwise, it’s dumplings for the third night in a row.”
“You’re going to go broke, Al Jensen.”
“Nope. Del owes me for a lot of hours at the store. Even though I’ve only been working mornings the past couple of weeks, I rack up the hours. Besides, we’ve got something to celebrate.”
“Del pays you?” She could have sworn Al told her he volunteered at the hardware.
He made a Stan Laurel face. “No, but it sounded good. Del’s still making monthly payments on the store, though, and will be for a good long time.”
He helped her with her coat. “What a sudden storm. Hope it lets up by the time we’re ready to go.” He handed her a menu from behind the chrome napkin holder.
“Dottie?”
“What?”
“I meant it. I’m indebted to you. What’s something you would really, really like? Somewhere you’d like to go, maybe?”
The falling star and her wish to see Cora and the children flashed through Dottie’s mind. That scene out in the starry back yard replayed, her hands raised to the heavens and her heart open to surprises. But she tore her eyes away from Al’s to stare at the menu.
Putting out a Gideon’s fleece for divine guidance was one thing, but wishing on a falling star an entirely different matter. And admitting to Al what she had done? Not on your life.
****
“Mom? How’s it going there?”
“Cora—it’s so good to hear from you. I’m fine. How are the children?” Dottie jammed the earpiece against her ear and hunched into a kitchen chair. A quiver went through her at the sound of her baby’s voice.
“Fat and sassy. I’m going to hold Jeffy up to the phone. I taught him to say ‘Grandma.’”
Amidst intermittent crackles, a garbled emission came through. The backs of Dottie’s eyes sparked. Her hands itched to hold that little guy.
“Dennis and I want you to come out for Christmas. We would help with the fare.”
“Come out? You mean take the train?”
“Yes. Would you? Millie would pick you up and drive you to the station.”
“Why, I don’t know. I haven’t ridden the train, ever. Not even to see Millie, honey.”
“But you could. It’s safe, and the fare isn’t…”
Dottie half-listened to all the details, but her mind veered along a dark channel. Ride the train all the way to California? She shuddered. Why, she couldn’t do that—what would Owen say?
“I don’t know. I want to see you and the children more than anything, but…”
“Maybe you could find a friend to come along. Dennis fixed up the attic above the garage, and we have room for you right in the house. You’ll think about it, won’t you, Mom? Please?”
“I’ll try.”
“You’ll try to think about it?”
Loud crackles filled the line, so Dottie could barely make out Cora’s words.
“Yes. I’ll think about it.” Her volume increased, but all she got for her effort was louder crackling. She yelled into the phone, but the static only grew worse. Finally, she hung up.
Her head spun. Take the train to California? She would do just about anything for her girls, but boarding a train alone for that long journey was too much to ask. She simply couldn’t consider it.
Yet the catch in Cora’s voice tugged at her. So did little Jeffy’s greeting—what she heard of it. The picture Cora sent in her last letter showed a Sammy look-alike, and the “Gamma” Jeffy murmured into the receiver tore at her heart. For the rest of the evening, she pondered, visualizing a little house along the coast, with Cora alone all day long while Dennis worked. But what she couldn’t visualize was boarding a train.
What would the fare cost? How long would the trip take? She had about two thousand dollars saved up, but even finding out all the information she’d need in order to decide boggled her mind. Maybe she ought to give Millie a call—that girl knew how to do anything she set her mind to. But Millie had an important job at Collins Radio and her husband and three children to think about.
All night long, Dottie tossed and turned. Cora’s offer to help with the fare bothered her the most. No, she wouldn’t let them. Why, of course not. If she went, she’d pay her own way. She got up for a drink of water and noticed Al’s light still on. There was something comforting about knowing he couldn’t sleep, either.
****
Bonnie Mae had done something different to her hair. Dottie noticed it right away. This morning, she looked more like a dignified, grown-up woman than an awkward, scatterbrained high school girl. Her gum cracking greatly diminished, too. Dottie thought about asking her how her Sunday had been, but decided to wait. With Bonnie Mae, nothing stayed secret for long.
Today, Helene helped things along. “So, Missy. You weren’t in church yesterday. What was that about?”
“About? Oh, nothing. Maybe I just got weary of the same old sermon, same old songs. Needed a little variety in my life.”
Helene homed in on her, moving around the table like a thunderhead. “What are you talking about? Pastor
Diers told a very interesting story yesterday—a true one.”
“Oh, goody.” Bonnie Mae went about her folding. Helene harrumphed.
“You watch your mouth. It behooves us to put ourselves under the teaching of our designated shepherd.” Bonnie Mae sneered, and Helene left the room in a huff.
The exchange gave Dottie ample time to examine the hairdo change. Instead of coercing her wild locks into a chokehold at the back of her head, Bonnie Mae let them fall to the sides a little more, framing her face. Maybe she even snipped her thick shaft of curls some. A connection went through the back of Dottie’s mind—hadn’t Bonnie Mae asked her about some man recently? But she couldn’t remember who it was.
Helene stormed back in, a stack of silverware in her hands. Behind her, the door swung back and forth as if it took on her ire. Her throat clearing filled the room, and she zeroed in on Bonnie Mae, her voice razor sharp.
“You don’t know what’s good for you. You are too smart-mouthed for your own good. You bite the hand that feeds you, and some day you’ll be sorry. How would you like it if I fired you?”
“I’d like it a lot, actually.” Somehow, Bonnie Mae managed to mumble so Dottie heard her but Helene didn’t. Dottie held her breath. Getting herself fired was the last thing Bonnie Mae needed. Visions of tramping up and down the stairs with the laundry basket fluttered before Dottie.
“What did you say?”
“Oh nothing. Well, gotta get these linens upstairs. Wouldn’t want to keep the boys waiting.”
Helene’s lower chin trembled so much it seemed in danger of falling off. “What do you think of that, Dottie? I am so tempted to write her off.”
“What do you mean, write her off?”
“I only hired her because of a deathbed promise I made to Mother, and I’m tired of putting up with her smartness. I don’t know how long I can keep this up. There’s only so much a person can take, don’t you know?” Helene dumped the silverware on the table. “By the way, this all needs to be polished.”
Dottie thought back to the way things were before Bonnie Mae came. Basically, she did both of their jobs for the same wage. She wouldn’t want to go back to that situation. Besides, what would Bonnie Mae do if Helene threw her out? It wasn’t as if Sternville grew by leaps and bounds these days like bigger towns, with new businesses requiring new workers.
In This Together Page 10
