The Pattern Artist

by Moser, Nancy;

  Annie let the tension outside be overshadowed by her friend’s enthusiasm—which was a marked improvement over Iris being so irritable.

  “I’d love to hear all about it,” Annie said.

  But then Mrs. Tuttle and Jane asked for help with dinner, so the conversation had to be postponed. Yet Annie noticed they were each wearing a new hair ribbon—Mrs. Tuttle’s was royal blue, and Jane’s was red. And Iris wore her green one. Annie was glad she’d thought to buy them the small gift. It would hopefully ease the friction of her working such long hours.

  But then during dinner, Annie thought she saw someone looking in the window from the street. It was dark out, and hard to see, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Grasston was out there. Waiting for her. Waiting for his revenge.

  “Goodness, Annie,” Mrs. Tuttle said. “Your face is pale as a baby’s, the blush gone from your cheeks entirely. Has something frightened you?”

  It showed? “I missed your fine cooking last night and am in dire need of it.”

  With that, the discussion moved to Edna and her lessons. “How often are you going to have those lessons?” Danny asked.

  “Every other evening,” she said. “We have the skirt and blouse cut out, but next I have to learn how to sew it all together—on a machine, not by hand.”

  Mrs. Tuttle nodded. “Mrs. DiSalvo down the street has a machine. She’s offered to sew some dresses for the little ones.”

  “In exchange for bread, I hope,” Mr. Tuttle said.

  “Yes, dear. I know the rule. Barter is better.”

  “I’d like to barter for a new horse,” the elder Tuttle said. “Old Moss is limping.”

  As talk turned to other things, Annie tried not to glance at the window. Tried not to be afraid.

  After the lights were out in the bakery, Annie ventured near the window, needing the darkness to cover her interest. She peered out and saw no one besides a couple walking together, and another man hurrying home late from work.

  She started when Danny came up beside her. “You scared me!”

  “I see that. The question is, why are you scared?”

  He deserved to know, for he’d been a part of it, too. “I saw Grasston.”

  “How is the clod?”

  “Angry.” She faced him. “He got sacked because of the gloves I pinched.”

  “Sacked for gloves? That can’t be the only reason. Others besides us musta seen the kind of man he was.”

  “Whether they saw or not, he’s blaming me. He wants revenge for costing him the job and ruining his reputation.”

  “He did that on his own.”

  “Tell him that.”

  “I will tell him, if I see him.”

  Annie felt a terrible foreboding. She put a hand on Danny’s arm. “You will not tell him anything. If you see him you will give him a wide berth. Do not involve yourself.”

  “Too late. I am involved. Remember I promised to protect you forever.”

  She slipped her hand around his arm. “Are you sure you’re only thirteen?”

  Annie was dozing by the time Iris came down from upstairs. “Baby Joe would not go to bed. And his ma makes it worse by coddling him. Annie? You awake? Remember I have things to tell you?”

  “I’m awake.”

  But only for a moment.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Danny nudged her. “Get up! It’s morning.”

  Annie heard him awaken his sister next then heard the door to the storeroom open and close.

  The night had been too short, for she had been plagued with nightmares about Grasston popping out of hidden corners, being everywhere. A constant threat.

  She tried to force the latest bad dream away. The details faded but the essence remained.

  “Good morning, Iris,” Annie said as they both got out of bed.

  “She speaks.”

  “What?”

  Iris smoothed the blanket on her makeshift bed. “Remember last evening how I wanted to tell you something important?”

  Oh dear. “I’m sorry. I was preoccupied with—”

  “With your very important life. I know. Sorry to intrude.”

  Annie kicked herself. With all her Grasston worries, she’d completely forgotten her friend. “I’m the one who’s sorry. Tell me your news.”

  Iris grabbed her clothes off a shelf. “If you’ll excuse me. I’ll dress elsewhere.”

  Again, the door opened. And closed.

  Annie stood in the room alone. She sank onto her bed. She’d been so caught up in her new life she’d ignored the old one. Her old friends. Her best friend.

  She looked upward when she heard the patter of children’s feet overhead. The Tuttles were up. Iris was busy.

  The thought of enduring breakfast with the lot of them made her lose her appetite. Iris wasn’t good at hiding her feelings, and there would be more tension.

  “I can’t take more tension right now.”

  And so, Annie hurriedly got dressed and left early for work. It wasn’t the courageous thing to do, but it was the best she could do.

  It was too early to go to work, so Annie strolled around Herald Square. The elevated train that loomed above the street seemed ominous, especially considering her mood, so she walked to the Herald Newspaper building at the crown of the square. It was already humming with commotion. She could even look in the windows and watch the presses.

  A young boy approached, a stack of newspapers under his arm. “Paper, lady?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Don’t you care nothing for the World Series?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what that is.”

  He gawked at her. “Baseball, lady. The New York Giants are playing the Philadelphia Athletics. Third game is today up at the Polo Grounds at two twenty-five. We’re tied one game to one.”

  Annie knew nothing about baseball, but the boy’s passion made her believe it was a lack of knowledge that needed to be rectified. “You convinced me. I’ll take a paper.”

  “Remember, two twenty-five. No need to even go because thousands stand right here outside the offices and get a play-by-play.”

  “I’ll be working.” She nodded toward Macy’s.

  “Just listen for the roar of the crowds. They’ll let you know how we’re doing.” He tipped his cap and left to do his job.

  Speaking of …

  She checked the clocks on the Herald building and saw it was time to go to work.

  “Good afternoon to you, Miss Wood.”

  Annie was glad to see Mr. Culver. “I’m surprised you’re here,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “Doesn’t the baseball game start any minute?”

  His eyebrows lifted. “You’re a Giants fan?”

  She retrieved the newspaper from under the counter. “Not yet. But I’m learning.”

  “Highly commendable. And you’ve caught me. I purposely timed my day to be around the Herald offices during the game. They have a Play-O-Graph posted outside that shows a miniature baseball diamond. They get the results telegraphed inside and then post the plays on the board.”

  “How ingenious.” She didn’t want to admit she had no idea what a baseball diamond was, or any details about how the game was played. But she was happy he was impressed with her interest.

  “What can I help you with, Mr. Culver? I don’t believe we’ve depleted our Butterick stock since your last visit.”

  He set his sales case on the floor at his feet. “Actually, I’ve come because of a complaint.”

  She put a hand to her chest. “About me?”

  She saw him glance in Mildred’s direction.

  “Mildred is the complainant?”

  “I assure you there isn’t cause for worry, but my superiors insist that I—”

  “Everything about that girl is cause for worry,” Annie said, more to herself than to him. “How did she make this complaint?”

  “She sent a note to the Butterick office, and they sent me to deal with it.”
<
br />   “Meaning?”

  “I’m supposed to talk to you. See if there is any basis in the complaint.”

  Annie’s heart pumped double time—not out of fear but anger. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and the gall of Mildred to imply otherwise was unacceptable. “Since Mildred leveled the complaint, I insist she be present during your accusation. Mrs. MacDonald, too.” Annie didn’t wait for him to say yea or nay but called the two women over.

  “What is it, Miss Wood?” the older woman asked as she joined them. “Afternoon, Mr. Culver.”

  Annie pointed at Mildred, who approached warily. “It appears Mildred has lodged a complaint against me to the Butterick Company.”

  Mrs. MacDonald’s brow dipped. “Is this true, Miss Krieger?”

  Her shrug turned into a nod. “When I witness wrongdoing I feel it is my duty to report it.”

  “Wrongdoing like the fabric I didn’t steal?”

  “I agree with your point, Miss Wood,” Mrs. MacDonald said. “Miss Krieger, you do seem overly concerned with Miss Wood’s behavior.”

  Annie’s thoughts returned to Mildred’s complaint. “There has been no wrongdoing. How can there possibly be wrongdoing selling sewing patterns?”

  They all looked to Mildred. At least she had the decency to blush. “I …” She passed it off to Mr. Culver. “He has the complaint. Let him read it.”

  Coward.

  Mr. Culver unfolded a piece of paper. “‘Miss Annie Wood has denigrated the Butterick product to customers by declaring their designs insufficient and inferior.’”

  “What?”

  Mr. Culver lifted a hand and continued, “‘Noting a customer’s dissatisfaction with the fashion design of a pattern, Miss Wood did not try to sway her by mentioning the pattern’s attributes, but openly discussed its flaws. This disloyalty should not go unpunished.’”

  Annie laughed. Then she laughed harder. “That’s the all of it? That’s your complaint?”

  Mildred pointed to the note. “It’s true. I witnessed you with that customer wearing the blue coat, talking with her about the flaws in the pattern designs.”

  This was absurd. “She didn’t like a certain sleeve, but did like the bodice and skirt of a dress pattern. I suggested she combine two patterns to get the look she desired. In the end she bought two patterns instead of one. I doubled the sale.”

  Mildred blinked twice then took sudden interest in the cuffs of her blouse. “I … I stand by my complaint.”

  Mrs. MacDonald shook her head. “Miss Krieger. Really.”

  “But she—”

  “I’ll deal with you in a moment.” She turned to the others. “Please forgive Miss Krieger her falsely placed … whatever it is. Miss Wood? I congratulate you on doubling the sale. Keep up the good work. Mr. Culver, I assume this is a nonissue with your employer?”

  “It is now.”

  “Very good. Now if you’ll excuse us.” She took Mildred’s arm and led her away. After they slipped behind a display of woolens, Annie could see Mildred get a good ear bashing.

  “She’s hated me since my first day,” Annie said.

  “With good reason—no one likes her, and everyone likes you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Oh, I know. You want to know how I know?”

  “I suppose.”

  He moved to block the view of Mildred’s scolding. “Because I like you, Miss Wood. Because you’re irresistible.”

  She blinked. “Where did that come from?”

  “I could say ‘my heart,’ but that would sound too sappy, don’t you think?”

  “It would.”

  He tapped a finger against his lower lip. “So … from where did my fondness stem?”

  “Mr. Culver, I don’t think you should talk like this.”

  “You’re against the truth?”

  “I’m against flattery. You shouldn’t flirt with me.”

  His face turned serious, his mischief gone. “I don’t want to flirt with you, Miss Wood. I flirt all day to gain sales. It’s part of the job. But with you …” He waited until she looked at his eyes. “I knew very quickly you were special.”

  She smiled. “Flattery again, Mr. Culver?”

  He shook his head. “I admit that the first Sean Culver you met was the salesman, but the Sean talking to you now is just the man. And that man wants to know the woman, Annie Wood, beyond sales and work and customers.”

  She didn’t know what to say.

  He took her hesitance as a rejection. “I’m sorry. I’ve gone too far and said too much too fast. I don’t mean for my words to be off putting or alarming, only to be honest and—”

  She touched his arm for the briefest of seconds. “Shh.”

  He sighed. “Again I’ve said too much—I’m sorry.”

  She sighed, too. “You haven’t said too much, you’ve said just enough.”

  Relief washed over his face. “Just enough for …?”

  “For me to be interested. In Sean Culver, the man.” She was surprised at her own words, yet they were sincere.

  He beamed. “You’ve made my day, Annie Wood. My week.” He leaned close, becoming the flirt again. “Perhaps my life.”

  She laughed. “Shut it down, sir. Don’t get carried away.”

  He put on his hat and retrieved his sales case. “I won’t promise a thing. See you tomorrow, Miss Wood.”

  “What’s tomorrow?”

  “You and I are taking a late lunch so we can go outside and watch the game play out across the square.”

  Annie looked for Mrs. MacDonald, who was helping a customer. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to get away.”

  “It’s worth asking, isn’t it?”

  Yes, it was.

  Thankfully, Mildred avoided even the proximity of Annie the rest of the day. Perhaps the humiliation and the scolding by Mrs. MacDonald had properly quashed her schemes. Annie began to relax, to breathe easier, to—

  Annie did a double take when she noticed the customer Mildred was assisting. Odd enough that it was a man, but when he looked in her direction …

  Grasston!

  She gasped. How dare he come back here!

  She looked around the store for Mr. Horace.

  Grasston said something to Mildred then turned toward Annie, smiled, and waved.

  Somehow his false friendship was more frightening than a direct threat.

  Annie spotted Mrs. MacDonald, but she was busy with a customer. If Grasston approached, she would be on her own.

  Only he didn’t approach. He continued his conversation with Mildred and even got her laughing. He touched Mildred’s hair, as if retrieving a thread from the tendrils near her face.

  Don’t you touch her!

  Annie’s heart beat in her throat. She didn’t like Mildred, but the girl had no idea the sort of man she was flirting with. Annie stepped into the aisle when Grasston faced her and offered a proper bow and a tip of his hat. Then he walked toward an exit.

  After watching him leave, Mildred looked at Annie and gave her a challenging smile full of contempt and satisfaction. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. Annie set aside her dislike and went over to talk to her. “What did that man want?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Don’t play coy with me. Now is not the time.”

  “Not the time because I happen to have a handsome man interested in me? You have Mr. Culver wrapped around your little finger. You want the button man, too?”

  It was apparent that Grasston hadn’t told Mildred his affiliation with Annie. “I know him better than you, and he’s smarmy, a conniving dolt, and—”

  “I will know him plenty well myself after we go walking this Sunday.”

  “No!”

  Mildred blinked at Annie’s outburst then busied herself with a rack of trim. “I don’t need your permission to have a gentleman caller.”

  “He’s not a gentleman. He’s a cad.”

  “He is no such thing. He’s very nice and sa
id he’s been in Macy’s before and has admired me from afar. It took all his courage to approach me today and talk with me.”

  She was utterly blind. “He’s not here for you, he’s here for me.”

  Mildred straightened to her full five-foot-nothing height and glared at Annie. “How dare you think you are the only woman who can attract male attention.”

  “I don’t think any such thing. It’s just that I know him. He’s out for no good. He wants to hurt me. He’s paying attention to you to get to me.” Annie saw a flutter of pain cross Mildred’s face. “I don’t say it to be mean but to save you from grief, from heartache, and … and maybe worse.”

  “I don’t need your warnings. I am quite capable of taking care of myself.”

  “But—”

  Mildred glared at her and lowered her voice. “You wonder why I hate you? You come into Macy’s and act as though you are the queen of the store. You can do no wrong and everyone loves you.”

  “Maybe if you didn’t have such a sour look on your face all day and weren’t such a dosser they’d—”

  Mildred pointed toward the other end of the department. “Go on. Go back to your counter and stop trying to take away my chance at happiness.”

  Annie was stunned.

  “Go!”

  “Just be careful of him, all right?”

  Mildred turned on her heel and walked away.

  Annie returned to her post, saying a prayer of protection for Mildred. She might not like the girl, but she wouldn’t wish Grasston on anyone.

  It was closing time, and Edna stopped at Annie’s department on her way out. “Are you coming over this evening for another lesson?”

  Annie looked around at the mess in her department. “I will as soon as I clean up from my last customer. She bought dress goods for three ensembles, but it made quite a shambles of everything.”

  “Do you want me to wait for you?”

  “Go on home. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “I’ll stop at the butcher’s to buy some pork chops and get supper going.”

  After the drama of the day, Annie was famished. “You are too good to me.”

  On the way to Edna’s home, Annie found a seat on the streetcar and closed her eyes. Even a few minutes of rest would be helpful, for her day wasn’t over. Tonight she was going to learn how to set in sleeves.