Love Calling

Home > Other > Love Calling > Page 6
Love Calling Page 6

by Janet Lee Barton


  “So am I. But part of my reasoning is selfish. I’m glad to be in contact with you and Grace and Esther again. It’s been a tough year, and now that we have a plan to help others, I’m beginning to feel as if I can look forward to the future again.”

  Emma’s heart twisted at his words. How awful it must be to have lost a mate. To dread the future without that person one loved. “I’m sorry it’s been so hard for you, Sam. I’m glad you’ve found something that is helping you go forward.”

  He nodded. “So am I. Thank you for agreeing to help with my plan.”

  “You’re welcome. Thank you for asking us to.”

  Sam smiled at her and gave a little salute before descending the steps to the street. “Good night, Emma.”

  “Good night, Sam.”

  seven

  Waiting for her trolley the next morning, Emma found herself looking forward to the coming Sunday night supper. She loved Sam’s idea of helping at the orphanage. And she’d enjoyed having him at supper the night before.

  She still didn’t like that he was a policeman—she didn’t think it was possible that she ever would. And she still worried that he might in some way be influenced by the corruption she knew still existed in the department. One couldn’t get rid of all the bad that had built up over the decades in only a few years. All she knew to do about it was to pray for Sam to stay the kind of man who wanted to reach out to help others and to ask the Lord to help her tamp down the doubts about him that sometimes surfaced. Was it possible that he was only doing these good things to cover up something else?

  She hated those thoughts when they came to her and prayed for them to go away. Sam had always been a good person—at least she believed him to be—and she wanted to continue to believe in him. Wanted to believe his desire to help the orphanage and to make a difference in the police force was real.

  It made her want to make a difference in the lives of those she knew and cared about at the orphanage, too. After all, she hadn’t been away all that long, and she didn’t want any of the children there to feel she’d deserted them.

  As much as she loved her life at Mrs. Holloway’s, she almost felt guilty for how good it was. Most of those leaving the orphanage didn’t have it nearly as good. Thankfully there were rooms at the YWCA and the YMCA, but that wasn’t the same as a home with people who truly cared about you.

  Her work situation would be the same as they would experience though, and she could help there. And she knew in her heart that Mrs. Holloway would welcome any of their friends into her home once in a while. She’d invited them to her birthday party, after all.

  The trolley came to a stop, and she quickly stepped on. She even looked forward to work today. She’d managed to read the society page this morning in preparation for the questions she’d be asked—even knowing she wouldn’t have all the answers some of the callers would seek.

  Tomorrow would be even busier, with everyone wanting an accounting of who was there and what they wore. It was her Sunday to work, and as much as she hated missing church, at least the day would pass fast with all the calls that would be placed to rehash the ball or find out what people could, if they weren’t invited.

  The trolley stopped at Mary’s corner, and she quickly took the seat open next to Emma. “Are you ready for today?”

  “I think so. It will be exciting, anyway.”

  They talked about the articles they’d read, comparing notes, and by the time they arrived at the telephone office they felt as prepared as possible for the busy day ahead.

  Harold lost no time in trading places with her. “I am so glad to see you. These women are driving me crazy wanting more information about the ball, the guest list, and the gossip. It’s been all I could do to be civil to them. I’m a man! I don’t really care about the ball.”

  “At least you’ll have a quiet night.”

  “I hope so.”

  Emma couldn’t help but giggle as he hurried away.

  But lines were lighting up over her board and she quickly got to work. One didn’t have to listen in on conversations—the callers wanted a chat with the operators before they ever asked to be connected. Once or twice, Emma had calls that only wanted to find out what she knew. Then when she asked whom she could connect them to, they said no one. It seemed they were getting all the information they needed from her.

  That unsettled her. Was she keeping the conversation going? Or were they? She certainly didn’t want to lose her job. For the next few callers, she tried to ask whom they wanted to be connected to before they could launch into any questions.

  But it didn’t work with Mrs. Fields. She continued to ask questions until Emma finally had to say, “My board is lighting up, and ma’am, I have to go. Whom can I connect you to?”

  Only then did the woman tell her whom she wanted to talk to. Her supervisor came by about the time Emma let out a huge sigh and connected the two lines.

  “Are you having a problem, Miss Chapman?”

  “No ma’am. Well, yes. It’s very hard to not have a conversation with our callers today.”

  “Oh yes, I know. I’ve been relieving the line. We do realize that sometimes our callers just want to talk to someone who might have more information than they do. As long as it doesn’t keep you from connecting others, don’t worry about it. I’ve been in your seat before and I know what you deal with. We aren’t going to fire someone who is trying to do their job in spite of constant interruptions.”

  “Oh, that is a relief, ma’am.”

  “I believe it’s time for your lunch. Go on and enjoy a few moments of peace.”

  “Thank you, I will.” They quickly switched places, and Emma didn’t tarry, heading for the lunchroom as fast as her feet would take her.

  ❧

  Sam was beginning to like his new beat a lot. For the most part it was so much calmer than his last one, he almost felt he was getting paid too much.

  But Richard assured him that wasn’t the case. “We have a larger area to cover, Sam. And I for one am thankful we don’t have as much crime as the Bowery does. Still, we have enough to keep us on the lookout.”

  The business side of his beat was something altogether different from the Bowery; still, it had areas to watch for. He’d been making the rounds of the businesses and getting to know the owners and employers.

  Just this morning, he’d met Mr. Collins and seen Esther at work. She’d been glad to introduce the two men.

  “I’ve already heard about you, Officer Tucker,” Mr. Collins had said. “Mrs. Holloway has spoken highly of you, as has Esther.”

  Sam’s heart had warmed at the support he had from the two women. He’d smiled at Esther as she went back to work. “I hope never to disappoint them, sir.”

  “With that attitude, I’m sure you won’t. I’m glad to see the police department going through changes. I didn’t trust the last cop on this beat enough to even tell him of my suspicions. It will be good to have one around I can trust.”

  “Thank you, sir. Have you been having any troubles lately?”

  “Not really. Just a few customers I’ve been watching. They seem to be watching what goes on up here a little too closely for my comfort.”

  “You think they might be after medicine they shouldn’t have?”

  “Possibly. You know many people do get addicted to laudanum and that kind of drug.”

  “Oh yes, sir, that’s why I asked. I ran into that at the Bowery.”

  “Your last beat was there?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Then I have no trouble trusting that you can handle this one. I’m sure you deserved a break.”

  Sam chuckled. “It kept me and my partner busy, that’s for sure.”

  “Well, I’m glad to meet you,” Mr. Collins said. “I believe I’ll be seeing you again on Sunday night at Mrs. Holloway’s?”

  “Yes sir, you will.”

  The older man nodded. “Esther and Miriam have been telling me about your plan to help the orphanage you
and the girls were raised in. I’m impressed with it.”

  “Thank you. It seems the least we can do—to help others coming out behind us.”

  “Yes. The world would be a much better place if we all thought that way.”

  “Yes sir, I agree. I suppose I’d better be going now. I’ve several other businesses to visit before lunch. If you have any suspicions of any wrongdoing, be sure to let me know.”

  “I will. You have a good day, Officer Tucker.”

  Sam had given a wave to Esther and strode back out on the street and into the next business—a haberdashery. The owner, a Mr. Morgan, was very nice and carried a wide selection of men’s clothing at a fairly decent price. Sam thought he’d be back soon as a customer. If he were going to be invited to dinner at Mrs. Holloway’s from time to time, he needed a few new things. He didn’t want the girls to be embarrassed for his sake.

  “No real problems with theft here?” Sam asked.

  “Oh, once in a while someone gets out of here with a belt or a cravat. But nothing big—at least not so far. I’ve only been at this location for a couple of years. But it seems to be a decent neighborhood,” Mr. Morgan said.

  Sam nodded. “We want to keep it that way, so you let me know if you see anything suspicious going on. We’ll be coming around.”

  Then he and his partner had met up at lunch and switched ends of the beat. He’d take the residential side of it and Richard would take over the business side. They did the switch most days, and it kept the days from becoming monotonous; plus they hoped to get the people they were to protect to trust both of them.

  But he’d found that there were pockets of criminal activity he needed to watch out for, and adolescent boys who had too much free time on their hands. They’d already pulled some pranks he’d had to talk to them about, and he prayed it wouldn’t escalate to anything more.

  There’d also been a couple of people he was on the watch for. They seemed to be casing out the neighborhood and didn’t really belong there. He’d never seen them enter a house in the neighborhood, but he’d seen them more often than he was comfortable with.

  “Hey Officer Tucker!” One of the younger boys he’d come to know waved to him from the end of the street.

  “Good afternoon, Billy. How are you today?”

  “Good. I made an A on my spelling test and Mother is going to be so pleased. Maybe she’ll make a chocolate cake for me.”

  Billy and his family lived two streets over from Mrs. Holloway, and he seemed to be a good kid. He didn’t much seem to mind when the other boys teased him about his good grades—just shrugged it off and went on about his business.

  Sam was pretty sure that was because of his upbringing. He had parents who were teaching him right. And as far as he could see, after so short a time of patrolling this area, that was the case most of the time in this neighborhood.

  But there were those who were spoiled beyond what he’d ever seen, thinking everything was due them. Those were the ones he’d certainly be watching—just as he watched the two Everett boys try to steal a pie off Mrs. Moore’s windowsill.

  He snuck up behind them, and just as the older one reached out to pick it up, Sam grabbed them both by the collars.

  “You little scalawags! You know stealing could land you in jail?”

  The younger of the two started to cry. “Please don’t put us in jail, Officer Tucker!”

  “And why shouldn’t I?”

  “We’re sorry, Officer Tucker. It’s just that Mrs. Moore’s pies are the best in the neighborhood and—”

  “Officer! Boys! What’s going on here?” Mrs. Moore asked, looking out her kitchen window.

  “These boys have been up to a little mischief, Mrs. Moore. They seem to like your pies a lot. From the smell of this one, I can see why.”

  “Phillip and Jack! Why, your mother would be plumb ashamed of you two. If you want one of my pies, all you have to do is ask. I’ll be glad to make you one.”

  “Oh, we know, Mrs. Moore,” the older one said.

  Sam thought Richard had told him the older one was Phillip and the younger one Jack.

  “Come on in and I’ll give you a piece of that pie. You, too, Officer Tucker.”

  “Oh, I can’t, ma’am. I’m on duty. And besides, how are we going to teach these boys not to steal if you reward them?”

  “Oh, I’m not going to reward them. I’m just filling them up so they can do some chores for me. Their mother has already told me to let her know if they try to pull anything over on me.”

  “Oh Mrs. Moore. Please don’t tell Mama!” Jack pleaded.

  “Depends on how well you do the chores I give you. Come on, now. You, too, Officer. I don’t want them to eat and try to run. You need to be here to make sure they don’t.”

  “Put that way, how can I refuse?”

  Sam thoroughly enjoyed his pie, but he had a feeling those boys were having trouble just getting their pieces down—especially with him watching every bite they took.

  Mrs. Moore was one smart woman.

  ❧

  Emma had never been quite so glad for quitting time to get there as she was that day. She was ready for this charity ball to be over with. Oh, there’d been other charity functions and there would be more, but one thrown by one of the wealthiest families in the city was unlike any others.

  First there was curiosity over the guest list—and how many would be invited. Then the questions changed to fashion and trying to get a hint of who was wearing what and which designers they’d used.

  Why any of the callers thought their telephone operators knew that kind of thing was beyond Emma, but some of them actually seemed to.

  She and Mary both sighed with relief when they took their seats on the trolley; then they looked at each other and began to laugh.

  “You know it’s a good thing we weren’t invited to the ball, because I’m just hoping I have enough energy to make it home,” Mary said.

  “I feel the same way. I’ve never had so many lines light up at one time since I began working.”

  “I’d like to say you’ll get used to it, but I’m not sure we can. We only have one headset and two hands.”

  “True,” Emma said. “At least the day went by fast; but still, I feel as if I’ve been running some kind of race.”

  “I do wonder what it would be like to go to one of these things,” Mary said. “I’d love to go one day. But the dressiest thing I have in my closet is my Sunday dress. I love it and think it’s beautiful, but I just wonder what it would feel like to have a dress made only for me by a designer.”

  “I wonder how much it would cost.”

  “More than we’ll make in several months, I’m sure,” Mary said.

  “We can dream, I suppose,” Emma said. “But most of my dreams aren’t about going to charity balls. I’m not sure I’d want to have to worry about showing up in a similar gown as someone else, or to try to keep up with the styles that seem ever changing.”

  “No, I really wouldn’t either. Too much to worry about if one is rich. I’ll not pine too much for that kind of life.” Mary laughed. “Besides, I don’t really think I have much choice.”

  “I don’t think either of us do.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about you, Emma. You do live in a very nice neighborhood, you know. You might meet someone.”

  “I’m very fortunate that Mrs. Holloway took me in when it was time for me to leave the orphanage,” Emma said.

  “Your cousin is engaged to a doctor. It could happen to you.”

  “And it could happen to you, too, Mary. Your neighborhood is a nice one, too.”

  Mary shrugged. “It’s not too bad. But we’re not a wealthy neighborhood to be sure.”

  “But it’s not a poor one either.” Emma knew that Mary’s father owned a shoe store. He might not be rich, but he did provide a good living.

  “True. And I’m content with who I am and where I live. Just once in a while I dream about what it would be like to marr
y someone rich and handsome.”

  Emma chuckled. “I don’t think I’ll hold my breath waiting for someone like that.”

  “No, I don’t suppose I will either,” Mary said. The next stop was Mary’s and when she got off the trolley, Emma really looked at the neighborhood. The homes weren’t as large as Mrs. Holloway’s, nor were they quite as nice, but they appeared to be well taken care of and they were separated a bit.

  In only a few minutes she was at her stop, and she was more than ready to get home. She was blessed to be living in this neighborhood; there was no doubt about it. At one time some of the very wealthy had lived here, Mrs. Holloway had said, but as they wanted larger and larger homes, they’d moved farther north.

  And most of the people here were wealthy by Emma’s standards, but nowhere near as wealthy as those attending the ball tonight.

  She couldn’t help but look for Sam when she started home, but he was nowhere to be seen. She consoled herself by remembering that he’d be at Mrs. Holloway’s Sunday night supper. Emma thought she’d come up with a wonderful idea. It would be great to have a planning session on Sundays, and she was glad Mrs. Holloway had asked Sam. He had to be lonely at times, and Emma wondered what it was he did after work.

  Did he have other friends he visited besides them? Were they policemen, too? Did they have families? If so, it might be hard for him to be around them.

  And he wouldn’t just hang out at the orphanage. Maybe his wife had family he was still close to. She hoped so. The thought of him being alone saddened her a great deal.

  She was glad he’d come up with a plan for helping at the orphanage. It would give him somewhere to go when he was off duty and a reason to feel needed. And now that he’d enlisted more help, he’d be visiting them more often, too. Hopefully, all of it together would keep him the good man she knew him to be. She prayed so.

  eight

  Sam had been looking forward to Sunday night supper all day. He’d gone to church with the Brisbanes and told them about his plan to help at the orphanage, and they were very pleased that he’d gotten more people on board with it.

  Then on the way home he’d stopped by the orphanage and filled Mrs. Robertson in on what he and the girls had talked about, inviting her to the Sunday night supper, too.

 

‹ Prev