The Pattern Artist

by Moser, Nancy;

“You could always take the job in the future,” Edna said.

  “That’s what Mrs. Sampson implied.”

  Sean’s smile faded, and Annie felt a wee bit peeved. Did he truly expect her to stay at Butterick forever?

  The moment was saved by the sound of footsteps on the stairs, voices in the hallway, and a knock on the door.

  “Oh, the heavenly smells, Edna,” Mrs. MacDonald said as she entered. “I’m eating before I’m eating.”

  Mildred nodded. “I haven’t had a meal like this since I left home years ago. I thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Holmquist.”

  “You are quite welcome,” Edna said.

  “I thank you, too,” Maude said, eyeing the pies.

  “You’re all welcome,” Edna said. “Sean, take their coats, please.”

  The apartment was alive with happy chatter, with everyone pitching in. Finally it was time to eat.

  Edna directed them to the dining table, which was decorated with gourds and small branches of brightly colored autumn leaves. “Let us give thanks, and then Sean, I was wondering if you would carve the turkey.”

  Sean eyed the bird on the platter as if it were a foe to be conquered. “It will be a new experience and may be more of a massacre than a carving. But if you’re not choosy about the end result, I am your man.”

  “You’re the only man,” Maude pointed out.

  They each took a seat around the table with Edna and Sean taking the ends. Then Edna held out her hands. Down the row the guests clasped hands then bowed their heads. “Dear God Almighty,” Edna began, “thank You for the food upon the table, the roof above our heads, and the jobs to provide a living. But most of all, thank You for these friends, old and new. I want to say a special thanks for dear Annie, for she is the one who brought us together. Bless us and guide us to do Your bidding. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  Both Sean and Maude squeezed Annie’s hands, and she felt herself blush at the extra mention. “Thank you,” she said softly, looking at all of them. “Thank you for letting me be a part of your lives.”

  “Amen, again,” Edna said. “Now to the turkey. Mr. Culver? If you please?”

  Sean stood at his place and got to work, giving them their choice of white or dark meat. Annie had some of each. Then bowls of mashed potatoes, gravy, chutney, corn, and rolls were passed, and each guest filled their plates edge to edge.

  More praise and thanks were offered as everyone enjoyed the bounty before them. When people began asking for seconds, Annie thought of something else to be thankful for.

  “I am thankful that Grasston—though not caught—has not bothered us.”

  “Perhaps he’s moved on to some other target,” Sean said.

  Annie noticed Edna, Mrs. MacDonald, and Mildred exchange glances. “What’s wrong?”

  “He was at the store the other day,” Mrs. MacDonald said.

  “Edna? Why didn’t you tell me?” Annie asked.

  “Mr. Horace and his men shooed him away and the police were called.”

  “Was he caught?”

  Mildred shook her head. “If only.”

  Annie felt an all-too-familiar tug in her stomach. “I truly thought he had moved on.”

  Edna picked up the bowl of potatoes. “Who wants thirds?”

  Annie had lost her appetite.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  This is the life,” Sean said as he walked to church with Annie on one arm and Edna on the other.

  “Oh, you,” Edna said. In her free hand she carried a hatbox with a ribbon tied around it. The box contained her straw hat that matched Iris’s dress so well—her gift to the bride.

  Annie was happy to share Sean with her best friend. Today was December twenty-third. Today Iris and Thomas would be married.

  It was hard to believe that little Iris, the immature housemaid whom Annie had met on her first day in America, was going to be a married … woman. Married or not, she was still a girl of seventeen.

  Annie remembered their first conversation up in the tiny attic room at the Friesens’, when Iris had expressed her desire to leave service and be a shopgirl. She wasn’t picky about what kind of shop, just so she was around a lot of people.

  The Tuttle family certainly fit that bill. From the very first day, Iris had been assigned the duty of taking care of their five small children. She’d fit with them and them with her as though they’d all been waiting for each other.

  Danny had fit in, too. Getting to help Gramps with deliveries fulfilled Danny’s desire for adventure, to be outdoors, drive a wagon, and make friends along the way.

  “Danny would have loved this day,” Annie said.

  “I wish I would have known him,” Sean said.

  “He sounds like a delightful boy,” Edna said.

  “That he was.” She raised her free arm in the air. “Make the most of today!” She lowered it and explained, “That was his rallying cry to Iris and me.”

  “Carpe diem,” Sean said.

  “What did you say?”

  “It’s Latin. Carpe diem. Seize the day.”

  “What an inspiring saying,” Edna said.

  “How do you know Latin?” Annie asked Sean.

  “Mr. Butterick. He would say the line often. I’m afraid it’s the only Latin I know.”

  “It’s enough,” Edna said.

  “Danny had no reason to know the Latin of it,” Annie said. “But he was wise beyond his years.” The sight of the church up ahead forced her to set the sadness aside. Today was a day for joy.

  As soon as they entered the narthex, Annie left Edna in Sean’s care. Since she was responsible for the wedding dress, she wanted to find Iris and help in any way she could. She asked an usher and was directed to a room off the sanctuary near the front of the church.

  She heard Iris’s voice inside and knocked. Mrs. Tuttle opened the door. “Annie! Come help with the ribbons woven through her hair. Jane and I can’t get them quite right.”

  Annie stepped into the room to help, but at the sight of Iris, she stopped. “Oh. Iris, you’re beautiful. Truly and fully beautiful.”

  Iris turned toward her, smoothing the blue dress. “It’s because of the dress. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “It’s not the dress,” Annie said. “It’s you. You’re radiant.”

  Iris beamed, which added to her happy glow.

  With the words I now pronounce you man and wife, Sean squeezed Annie’s hand.

  The simple gesture surprised her. With that one squeeze was he truly saying he wanted to marry her? Pleasure and panic collided, and Annie found herself retracting her hand from his grip.

  He gave her a questioning glance. She felt immediate regret, so she appeased him with a smile. He smiled in return, and she was struck by how much his mood was dependent on her own. There was power in that. But also responsibility.

  The happy couple kissed and strode down the aisle with a confidence that two become one was a force to be reckoned with.

  “I’m so happy for them,” Sean whispered.

  “As am I.”

  He held her gaze a moment, as though pondering his next words. Annie looked away, not wanting to encourage their release.

  The ushers came to their row, indicating it was time to go to the church reception. Annie was glad for the distraction of getting from here to there. They were led into a large room scattered with tables. Several women set out various pastries around a two-tiered wedding cake—no doubt due to the expertise of the Tuttles. For an instant, Annie’s thoughts flashed back to various party receptions at Crompton Hall when she’d helped out, dressed in her dress uniform of black with a crisp white apron. She’d come a long way—a world away. A lifetime away.

  She thought of Lady Newley and Miss Henrietta. How were they getting on? And more to the point, how were the Misses handling the sewing work without her help?

  “Let’s greet the bride and groom,” Edna said.

  The three of them went through the reception line that consisted of the h
appy couple and Thomas’s parents. It was rather sad that Iris had no family there to share her day. No parents. No Danny. The lack reinforced the special blessing of the Tuttles in her life.

  The rest of the reception was a blur of Tuttle children running amok with other children of the neighborhood, the murmurings and laughter of friends celebrating one of life’s milestones, the cutting of the cake, and numerous toasts with delicious spiced punch.

  Annie sat at a table and closed her eyes, letting the noise of the party turn into a mesmerizing hum. If she let herself, she could easily doze.

  Go outside. Now!

  The inner nudge shocked her to full attention.

  “What’s wrong?” Sean asked from his seat nearby.

  “Nothing.”

  “It was something. You jerked as if someone had shouted at you.”

  She put a hand to her forehead, trying to recapture the moment. “It was the opposite of a shout, but it was a voice—an insistent voice. From in here.” She pointed to her heart.

  “What did it say?”

  “‘Go outside. Now.’”

  After only a moment’s hesitation Sean stood. “Come, then. I’ll go with you.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing. I don’t even know what it means.”

  “Did you hear the words, or not?”

  “I heard them.”

  “Then we go. You’ll never know what they mean unless we go outside.”

  They collected their coats. When they passed Edna on the way out, Annie whispered, “We’ll be right back.” There was no need to get her involved in this bizarre goose chase.

  They stepped outside, where a light snow was falling. Annie raised her shoulders against the chill. “It’s too cold. Let’s go back in.”

  “Just give it a minute,” Sean said. “Look around.”

  Feeling ridiculous, Annie looked left, where she saw only pedestrians and carriages hurrying to their destination before the snow accumulated. And then right, where she saw more of the—

  She gasped. “It’s Grasston!”

  “Where?” Sean said.

  “He just ducked behind those barrels. He’s over there!”

  Sean ran after him.

  “No, Sean! Don’t!”

  But it was too late. Grasston spotted Sean and escaped into a building. Sean ran after him.

  Annie’s thoughts dashed to horrible scenarios of Grasston lying in wait for Sean, hitting him over the head. Or did he have a knife? Or a gun?

  She spotted a policeman talking to a street vendor who was closing up shop against the snow. “Officer!” she yelled. “Help!”

  The officer came running, and Annie pointed at the building. “An escaped murderer, Oscar Grasston, just went into that building, and my beau ran after him. You have to catch him, stop him from hurting—”

  “Is he armed?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The officer blew a whistle, summoning assistance. He instructed the other officer, “Go ’round back. Watch for a man …” He looked to Annie. “What’s he look like?”

  “Black hair, tall. Mustache. My beau is blond.”

  The officers nodded. One went down an alley toward the back, and the other went inside.

  The whistle must have alerted the wedding guests, for a few of the men came outside and Annie filled them in. She was glad to see Mr. Tuttle and Thomas. “It’s Grasston! He was here. He ran inside that building. Sean ran after him.”

  “Let’s go,” Mr. Tuttle said.

  Annie took his arm, holding him back. “There are two constables involved. I think it’s best we stay back.”

  But the two men would have none of it. “He’s a slippery one. We can’t risk him getting away yet again.”

  “That’s my building,” another man said. “There’s a way out in the back. Come with me, men.”

  The women gathered close around Annie. It was surreal to see Iris with a coat around her shoulders, wearing her wedding dress, her hair ribbons waving in the winter wind. “I’m sorry. I never meant to disrupt the wedding.”

  “Nothing could make my wedding happier than catching the man who killed Danny.”

  “Up there!” A man pointed to the flat roof of the building. “They’re on the roof!”

  They could see glimpses of men running around the roof, and they heard them shouting.

  Edna took Annie’s hand then Iris’s. “Father God, keep our good men safe. Help them capture the man who’s perpetrated such evil. Settle this now, Lord. Bring about Your justice, and relieve this horrible man’s victims of his wicked—”

  A scream sliced through her words, and they watched as a man fell from the roof onto the street not twenty feet away.

  Most of the women screamed and looked away, shielding their eyes from the sight. But Annie and Iris did not. They looked upon the broken victim, needing to see, needing to know.

  “It’s him!” Iris yelled. “It’s Grasston!”

  Annie stared at the bloodied body with no aversion. The way his limbs were askew, and the blood …

  The curious ventured close, but most gave him a wide berth. A stream of men filed out of the building, looked at Grasston, and then joined their families on the church steps.

  Last out were the officers then Thomas, Mr. Tuttle, and Sean.

  Annie ran into his arms. “You got him! I was so afraid for you.”

  “He got himself,” Sean said. He put a hand to his arm. His coat was slashed.

  “You’ve been stabbed!” Annie said.

  “He sliced at me, but the coat saved me. I don’t think I’m even cut.” He shook his head, turning their attention. “As I said, Grasston got himself.”

  “That he did.” Thomas wrapped his arm around his bride. “We had him cornered on the roof, and an officer was talking to him, trying to get him to turn himself in.”

  Mr. Tuttle took over the story. “But then he turned toward the edge and dove over it.”

  Sean nodded. “He was standing there, a knife in his hands, ready to fight us all. But then he stood upright and got the oddest look in his eyes.”

  “As if he was being talked to. As if he wasn’t quite there,” Thomas said.

  Sean finished it. “And then he jumped.”

  Edna drew in a breath. “We’d been praying for your protection, and for God’s justice.”

  They all looked at Grasston. A light blanket of snow began to cover him, a pure blanket for a very impure man. The officers stood nearby talking among themselves.

  “Danny finally has justice,” Annie said.

  “Indeed he does,” Mrs. Tuttle said.

  There was a moment of silence among the wedding guests, as all looked upon the scene, letting its gravity and significance settle.

  But then Mr. Tuttle said, “Inside now. We have a wedding to celebrate. A new beginning for our bride and groom.”

  “And for you,” Sean whispered to Annie.

  Annie turned her face toward the sky and let the snowflakes fall upon her.

  Annie tied a bow around the vest she’d made Sean for Christmas. “What if it doesn’t fit him?” she asked Edna.

  “He’ll love it anyway. Come help trim the tree before he gets here.”

  The fir tree was small and sat upon a table by the parlor fireplace, but it was more than Annie had ever had. “The Christmas tree at Crompton Hall was enormous and was always placed in the front hall in the crook of the sweeping stair. Each servant could put on one ornament, and I always chose a little silver bird with its wings outstretched. I just loved the shape of it. The glisten of it.”

  Edna looked through the box of ornaments. “Look what we have here.” She held up a silver bird. “You may do the honors.”

  Annie placed it on the tree, her old and new lives merging.

  “Did you have a tree when you were a child?” Edna asked.

  “No. Christmas was just another day, with Ma complaining and Pa yelling about who and what had done him wrong.”

  “I’m so sorr
y for that. Every child should experience the magic of Christmas, even in the simplest of ways.”

  Annie nodded, knowing that what every child should experience and did experience were often widely disparate.

  She chose to think of happier times. “The tree at the Hall used to be ablaze with candles.”

  “Not here,” Edna said with a sharp shake to her head. “Not anymore.”

  “Did something happen?”

  Edna draped a string of beads on the branches. “Steven was ten and thought it would be fun to light them in the middle of the night so St. Nicholas could see better. He knocked a lit candle over, and if I hadn’t been awakened by his not-so-quiet boyish noises, the entire apartment would have gone up in flames.” She walked to the candles on the pine-draped mantel. “Since then, these do.”

  “They do just fine.”

  There was a knock on the door, and Sean came in, smelling of winter winds. “Merry Christmas!”

  “Merry Christmas Eve to you,” Edna said, kissing him on both cheeks. She brushed snow off the shoulders of his coat. “I didn’t realize it was snowing.”

  “Quite hard, I’m afraid. I was glad my only trip was across the street.”

  “Not too much snow, I hope. Tomorrow we’re going to see your family in Brooklyn,” Annie said.

  “We shall see. If not tomorrow, we can see them on New Year’s Day. Mother won’t mind. She wouldn’t want us venturing out in a blizzard.”

  Annie was disappointed yet also relieved. Meeting his parents made her nervous.

  “The tree is lovely,” Sean said, straightening the star on top.

  The clock on the mantel struck six. “We have an hour until church begins. Would you like to open our presents?”

  Annie saw that Sean hadn’t brought anything. She didn’t want him to feel bad. “That’s not necessary,” she said. “I am happy for the company.”

  He winked at her. “Fear not.” He pulled a round tin from one coat pocket and a small box from the other. “I do bring gifts.”

  Annie was glad for it, for she was eager to distribute hers.

  “Let me serve us a cup of wassail and we can commence.”

  Annie helped Sean remove his coat and, once again, noticed the slashed sleeve. “If we are snowed in tomorrow I will mend this for you—all the layers. How did your arm fare?”