“What are you talking about? I’m not upset about that.”
“You had a look—”
“I had a look?” He grinned.
“I don’t mean to make a nuisance of myself out here.”
“You aren’t a nuisance, Mrs. Sutton. A distraction, maybe, but a lovely distraction, and a most welcome one.” He hurried to apologize. “I’m sorry, ma’am. That was inappropriate.”
“I don’t—care.”
He sat back. “Ma’am?”
“I don’t care if it was inappropriate. It’s nice to know someone—”
She shook her head.
“Someone?”
“It’s nice to know someone thinks of me as a real person, not just ‘a widow mourning her loss.’” She snorted. “You know the truth about all of that.”
He nodded. “That may change the nature of the grief, but I don’t imagine it erases it.” He paused. “Some would even say it makes it harder. Not having people know the depths of it.”
She swallowed. Looked out the windows. Reached up to clutch an invisible locket. When she realized what she’d done, she dropped her hand to her side. “I don’t know if it’s harder. It’s surely different.” She shook her head. “At first I thought it was a sham. The funeral. The foundation with his name on it. But then, that night at the bazaar, with everyone saying such nice things about him?”
She shrugged. “I told myself that it wasn’t right to forget all the good things, just because …” Her voice wavered. She looked over at Cass and forced a nervous laugh. “Don’t worry. I’m not about to subject you to more hysterics.” And then she was mortified by unexpected tears. “I am so sorry.”
He rose and pulled a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket. As he handed it over, he said, “You’ve a right to your feelings,
Mrs. Sutton.”
She mopped up her tears, started to hand the kerchief back, then retracted it. Shook her head. “I’ll return it after it’s laundered.”
“And I’ll look forward to seeing you again.”
That night she dreamed of widow’s veils and weighted silk disappearing into the shadows while she chose a gown for some important event. Suddenly, she was dressed in a blue gown standing next to a bay horse in the middle of a field of wildflowers. A bay horse that looked exactly like Baron, Cass Gregory’s gelding.
It didn’t make a bit of sense.
Cass swung down off Baron and tied the reins to the back porch railing at home. Ma was sitting beneath the overhang, stemming and snapping the green beans in a bowl in her lap.
“Fresh green beans for supper,” she said. “Mrs. Howard, two doors down, is sharing her bounty.”
“That’s good, Ma. I’m glad you’re getting to know the neighbors. But I won’t be staying for supper. Finney got some more model furniture finished, and I want to take it to Juliana’s.” He bent to kiss her on the cheek as he passed by. “I won’t mind a late supper though, if you don’t mind leaving a plate in the oven.”
“The aunts won’t let you go hungry.”
He crouched down in front of her. “You know I love your cooking. I just want to get these delivered so Juliana has them for her committee meeting tomorrow. They’re going to have to start discussing rules and staff soon. If they can get the furniture decided, that’ll just be one less thing they have to worry over.”
Ma nodded. Then she did something strange. Dropping the green beans back in the bowl, she leaned forward and cradled his face in her hands. “She is a good woman, Cass, but you are from two very different worlds.” Then she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “I’ll put a plate in the oven before I turn in. And I will take offense if you slight my pot roast and green beans.”
“I won’t, Ma, I promise.” He stood up. “Where’s Sadie?”
“Back any minute. She met Ludwig at work. He wanted her advice on some display cabinets for their new store.” She smiled up at him. “They know better than to shun my pot roast.” She winked.
Cass stood up and headed inside. He washed up and was about to exit by the back door when Sadie and Ludwig walked in the front.
“Where you going all gussied up? Oh, wait. Don’t tell me.” Sadie stuck her nose in the air and inhaled, then nudged Ludwig. “Smell that? That is the smell of a man out to attract a lady.”
“And this is the sound of a man ignoring you,” Cass said and kept going.
“You’re wearing your best shirt,” Sadie called after him. “You might as well get her name tattooed over your heart.”
Cass whipped about to face her. He almost asked her how in the world she knew about tattoos. But then he thought better of it.
It wasn’t until late in July that Juliana began to fully appreciate the enormity of the responsibilities the women had taken on themselves by agreeing to accept her donation. Prior to the bazaar, it had been all excitement and anticipation. Now the real work began. It took three meetings to agree on the “Rules Governing the Matron & Committees of the Friendship Home of Lincoln, Nebraska.”
Once the basic organization was laid out, Helen Duncan and two other committee members traveled to Omaha to interview a superintendent of a Home for the Friendless there. They returned with a combination of good news and horror stories that alternately encouraged and intimidated the committee.
“We need far more staff than we anticipated,” Helen said. “Once we gather the current residents into one place, we’ll have more than two dozen in our care, and we know the number will grow quickly. We must prepare for that. The suggested list includes a matron, a physician, a teacher, three nurses, a cook, a laundress, a couple of general assistants, and a combination gardener/engineer. All those salaries add up to $255 a month.” She nodded in Juliana’s direction. “Thanks to Mr. Carter of First National, we are in a good financial position to support the first year, but I cannot stress enough that we must get the legislature to help us.” She paused. “We’ll table that for now, but please be thinking how we can impress the need on our state senators.”
Lutie Gleason spoke up. “I propose we take the half-dozen babies into the chamber when it’s in session. Preferably right before feeding time.”
Helen laughed. “Let’s remember that idea if more conventional means don’t succeed.”
When Aunt Theodora asked which staff member should be hired first, everyone seemed to agree that the matron was the most critical. According to the organizational rules the society had drafted, the matron was to “have full control of the family and household officers.” That meant she would keep a record of all admissions and discharges and maintain individual files on each inmate. She would present a written monthly report “of important items of family interest.”
Juliana suppressed a smile when Aunt Theodora said that it seemed to her they were looking for a living replica of Mary, the mother of Christ.
“Not quite,” Helen said quietly. “We are willing to pay twenty-five dollars a month. The mother of our Lord would do a wonderful job without expecting a salary.”
Someone mentioned Mrs. Crutchfield, currently in charge of one of the homes in town.
“Absolutely not,” Helen said. She looked around the table and softened her tone. “I’ve stopped in a few times recently. The care is adequate, but we need someone more … patient. Warmhearted. The young women we will be helping need someone who can be firm, but they also need a friend and companion. That is not Mrs. Crutchfield.”
They would also need more volunteers. A Placement Committee to oversee the process of finding homes for orphans, a Purchasing Committee to handle ordering supplies, and a Visiting Committee, “just to keep a friendly eye on things.”
“They should arrive unannounced,” Aunt Theodora said. “That will keep the staff on their toes.”
“Are you volunteering?” Helen asked.
“You’d be wonderful at it,” Aunt Lydia said. “Everyone in this room is frightened half to death of you.”
“As it should be,” Aunt Theodora said.
She tried to maintain a stern face but couldn’t quite manage it.
Finally, at the beginning of August, Helen brought a typewritten “Rules of Admission and Discharge.”
RULES OF ADMISSION AND DISCHARGE
1. Applicants to the home may be received at the discretion of the matron for one week or until the Admissions Committee shall have an opportunity to decide upon the application.
2. An applicant who has property or friends able to pay an admissions fee shall do so, the amount to be discretionary with the committee.
3. Boarders may be received by special agreement with the committee, but never to the exclusion of those for whom Friendship Home was first created, and they shall be required to obey the rules of the home the same as other inmates.
4. Any person desiring to take a child from the home for adoption or to bring a child up to maturity must communicate in person or by writing with the matron, giving a full statement of all the circumstances into which the child will be placed, what position in the family such child will hold, what labor will be required, what advantages for education will be given, and what will be the religious privileges and training. These facts must always be accompanied with good and satisfactory recommendations or the request will receive no approval from the committee.
Aunt Theodora peered at her copy as if it might sprout wings. “Typewriter?”
“It isn’t French, Sister,” Aunt Lydia said. “It’s the future.”
The older woman sighed. “I see reference to the ‘rules of the home.’” She peered over her spectacles. “What, pray tell, are those?”
Helen looked around the table. “Whatever we decide. Would someone care to volunteer to draft a list?”
“I don’t suppose ‘be good’ is considered adequate?” Aunt Theodora said.
“If only it could be.” Helen laughed. “Do I hear a motion to table that until the next meeting?”
“I’d rather make a motion that Miss Theodora be requested to draft something for us,” Lutie Gleason said, glancing at Aunt Theodora. “You are so good with words.”
When the motion was seconded and carried, Aunt Theodora promised to have “a few good words” as to rules of conduct prepared by the next meeting at the end of the month.
CHAPTER 21
Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep.
ROMANS 12:15
Jenny
Thursday, July 26
On a blistering hot day in late July, when the shadow of Mrs. Crutchfield’s house finally reached the well pump in the backyard, Jenny dragged a galvanized tub out of a shed and wore herself out pumping water into the tub. When it was half full, she talked one of the new residents into helping her carry the four babies downstairs. Jenny stripped them all down and removed their diapers and, one at a time, lowered them into the cold water. They shrieked with the shock at first, but it wasn’t long before all four children realized how much better they felt and began to enjoy splashing the cool water on each other.
Jenny settled in the grass beside them and, dampening a clean rag, folded it and draped it across the back of her neck, closing her eyes with pleasure as cold water dripped down her back.
The nausea she’d been battling all day faded. She’d just reached for the dipper hanging on the pump head to get a drink when Mrs. Duncan came walking around the side of the house.
“You don’t need to say a word,” Jenny said. “I already see what happened. Thank you for trying.” She hung the dipper back up. “I told you he wouldn’t change his mind.”
Helen reached in her bag. “Is Johnny teething yet?” She held out a rubber teething ring.
“He hasn’t been sleeping well. You think that’s it?”
“Could be. Has Dr. Gilbert been by this week?”
Jenny shook her head and reached over to tousle Huldah’s blond hair.
“She’s learned to trust you,” Helen said. “She was still hiding under the bed when I was here last.”
Jenny smiled. “She’s better.”
“I’m not giving up, Jenny. He’ll change his mind.”
She shook her head. “Even if he did, he’d be sorry.”
“He wouldn’t,” Helen said. “Johnny’s a lovely child, and you’re a sweet girl.” She came closer and bent down, smiling. “I’m going to bring him and the others some new clothes later in the week. Would you like a new dress?”
Jenny shook her head. “I’m all right.”
“You’ll like it at the new place. The construction is going along. It’s out in the country, and there will be a new staff.” She glanced back at the house and lowered her voice. “No more Mrs. Crutchfield. Better food. And the nursery! An entire floor for the babies. Plenty of room for them to crawl about and play. We’re going to have a toy drive. It’ll be so much nicer.”
“It sounds like it,” Jenny said, more because Mrs. Duncan seemed to need to hear it than anything. “When will you move people in?”
“Just after Thanksgiving.” Mrs. Duncan smiled. “Johnny will be walking by then. Can you imagine?” She paused. “I don’t want to upset you, but we’ve had someone apply to adopt a little girl. They’ll be coming by in a few days to see Huldah.”
Jenny blinked back tears. She nodded. “That’s good. As long as they’ll be good to her.”
“We’ll appoint someone to make unannounced home visits for the first six months, and if there’s any question, we won’t let her stay.”
Jenny nodded. That night, when the babies were asleep, she crept downstairs to the kitchen where Mrs. Crutchfield kept her almanac. She had to check the newspaper to see what today’s date was, but once she’d done that, she counted back to two days before Sterling died. Then she counted forward.
This one would be a Christmas baby.
“Of course you must go,” Juliana said firmly. She laid the newspaper aside and looked across the breakfast table at the aunts. “You’ve spent August at the summer house for nearly ten years. I won’t hear of you canceling your plans.”
“We can’t leave you alone. Not this summer.” Aunt Lydia shook her head.
“I hope you aren’t listening, Martha,” Juliana said. “They’re erasing you. And you standing over a hot stove to make them the chokecherry syrup they love so well.”
“I didn’t hear a thing,” Martha said. “I’m not here, remember?”
Juliana looked back at the aunts. “I’ll still have Martha and Alfred. And I promised Pastor Taylor I’d help with the homecoming picnic the first weekend in September. I need to be here to help make plans.”
“Margaret Nash is on that committee,” Aunt Lydia said, “and I imagine she’d blossom if only she had the chance. She’s very capable. You don’t need to be here.”
Juliana smiled. “I’ll let her blossom. She can head it up if she wants to, and I’ll do her bidding. Even so, it isn’t fair to dump the entire thing in her lap.”
“There are other people who can plan a church picnic,” Aunt Theodora said.
“Undoubtedly. But I want to help. And I don’t want to spend a month playing backgammon with people I barely know. I’m sure your Lake Geneva friends are lovely, but they are your friends.” Juliana paused. “And if you must know, I don’t want to be ‘the widow in residence.’ People here are at least used to it by now. They are only minimally shocked when I smile and laugh.”
She got up and took her plate to the sink and rinsed it. “Please. Aunt Lydia. Aunt Theodora. Go to Lake Geneva. Enjoy the cool breeze. There is no reason for you to stay here and melt with me. Beyond helping with the church picnic, I’m going to do very little but sit on the back porch, reading and drinking lemonade.”
“She’s trying to get rid of us,” Aunt Theodora said, looking troubled.
“She is,” Juliana agreed. “The truth comes out. I’m sick of you two. I need a break.”
“I knew it. I am crushed.” Aunt Theodora stood up. “Come, Lydia. We have packing to do.” She hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. “Mar
tha.”
“Yes, Miss Theodora.” Martha looked up from stirring the syrup cooking on the stove.
“You will telegram us if Juliana regrets kicking us out?”
Martha smiled. “The very instant.”
“All right. Then I suppose one of you can tell Alfred that we’ll be needing a ride to the train station on Monday.”
When August heat began to take its toll, Cass had the crew load the wagons before dawn and head to the job site by moonlight. As soon as the sun came up, they went to work. By the time the heat was at its worst, they had put in almost a full day’s work and Cass sent them back to town with a reminder not to push the teams and to cool them down carefully. He often stayed behind. It wasn’t that bad if he took it slow, and he had grown to love having the place to himself.
Without the crew there, he could meander through the rooms and inspect the progress at his own pace. They were doing a fine job, but he still found little things on occasion that he could address. The plaster and lath would soon be finished. Things would go quickly after that. They shouldn’t have any trouble being ready for the open house Juliana wanted the weekend before Thanksgiving.
Sadie and Ludwig were getting married the first Sunday in December. Their store was taking shape down in Roca. Ludwig had begun to order display cases, and Juliana had given permission for them to be stored in the warehouse behind the office. He still hadn’t shown her the dining table the boss had had delivered all those months ago. There just hadn’t been a right time.
He didn’t expect to see Mrs. Sutton out at the job site much this month, and that was probably for the best. Sadie’s teasing was getting old. Ma had only said that one thing on the back porch that day, but he could tell she was thinking about it. He couldn’t understand what he did that made them worry. Of course he put on a clean shirt when he was going to see her. Wasn’t that polite? And yes, he went out of his way to see that things were done in a way that pleased her. She was his boss. That didn’t mean he was engaging in romantic flights of fancy.
Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles] Page 22
