They dressed in warm coats, heavy gloves, knitted hats, and put scarves around their necks. Rachael took the small shovel and trudged through the deep snow toward the sidewalk. Her father took on the porch, starting with the snow drift piled up by the front window.
The street was still covered with snow, not ready for driving. Neighbors on both sides of the street had joined in the sidewalk cleaning and waved to one another as they started the task at hand.
Putting every effort into shoveling the narrow sidewalk, Rachael paused when she spotted a man some distance away, coming toward them. She leaned on the shovel to watch as he appeared to be headed her way. Could it be Stan? She hoped it was, but the man suddenly turned into a house several doors from hers and went inside. With a sad sigh, she resumed what she was out there for, to remove the snow.
When her father finished with the porch, he came down to help her. Soon they had accomplished the chore and went inside.
Her father stripped off his coat and gloves, pulled off his boots, and then hurried down to the basement to feed the furnace its morning breakfast of coal. Rachael lingered in the living room staring out the window until she heard her mother call from the kitchen. Sunday was a day for reflection, an early dinner and rest from the busy week behind them and before the next one would begin tomorrow. Everything shut down for the holy day of rest . . . Sunday. No stores, no shops, no work places of any kind could be found open. The only thing missing this Sunday was attending church, but with the deep snow it was not possible to get there.
Rachael helped her mother prepare a chuck roast with homemade bread, mashed potatoes, and green beans. A rather inexpensive meal with the roast at fifteen cents a pound, potatoes at eighteen cents for ten. Rachael had been able to pay only ten cents for all them. More often, they had a simple meal of beef bones boiled with white potatoes, but on occasion a nice roast was bought as a treat. Her mother took pride in the homemade custard she often made for their dessert. Stretching meals was one of Grace's duties to keep her family fed. Any leftovers would be put away from something she’d make up for Monday’s dinner.
Grace had also become an expert on repairing clothes and even the soles of their shoes. Saving a dime was the goal of her everyday existence. Use it up, wear it out, make it do or go without! Americans had turned the practice of frugality into an art form. Coupons helped with the purchase of food and other important items. Sugar and coffee were not in great supply. Gas had risen to fifteen cents a gallon. Andrew had to give up his weekly drive to the farm where he bought wheat and other staples for his wife’s kitchen.
Once preparation for the dinner was under way, Rachael took to her bedroom to continue reading a novel she'd bought at the thrift store. It would be a few hours before the meal would be done. Concentrating on the words in the book might be a problem, with only one thing on her mind... Stan. She wanted desperately to know why he hadn't shown up the night before. Maybe tomorrow she could find out. Where would she look? She knew about the department store where he had been offered a job, and the newspaper company he’d worked for, but who would she ask?
The day lingered on as most Sundays did and soon it was bed time. Rachael gladly welcomed the night and relished the thought of seeing Stan the next day. At least she hoped to. If she contacted him, would he be glad to see her or would he turn away from her and not want to even talk to her? Thoughts of the next day approaching kept her awake for a long time before she drifted off into dreamland.
Chapter Six
Rachael could hardly wait to get out of the house and head downtown. It looked better outside, no new snow and sunny. It appeared that some of the snow on the ground had melted a little. She woke early, dressed, had a quick breakfast and was out the door. Nothing was mentioned at the breakfast table about Stan, and Rachael was glad of that.
It had warmed a little and some of the snow had turned to slush. She had to be careful while standing at the corner close to the curb waiting for the streetcar, so she wouldn't get splashed by passing cars. December could be fickle and let the world have a little thaw and warmth for a change, but everyone knew it wouldn’t last.
Right on time, the streetcar came to a stop at the corner and Rachael hurried to board. After she dropped her nickel in the box, she proceeded down the aisle to the first available seat which was located in the middle of the car. She thought about how to arrange her day for time to go to the department store and talk to the manager about Stan. It appeared the only time available was at her lunch hour. Unless she spotted the newspaper truck on her way to work and discovered he was still on the paper route. But he did say the store manager wanted him to start sometime that week.
She gazed out the window, contemplating her moves for the day, as the streetcar made its way to her destination. She still wondered what happened to Stan to keep him from coming Saturday. The bell rang; it was her stop next. She rose from her seat and went to the doors. Holding on to the post, she waited to exit.
As usual, the square was buzzing with activity. People rushed around going from one place to another, cars and trucks moved along at a slow pace through the slushy streets, and it all made for a busy Monday morning.
She stepped up to the sidewalk and began to search for the newspaper truck, but it was nowhere in sight. The large department store she’d have to pass was a great temptation, but she had no time because she had to get to work and didn’t want to be late. The lunch hour would give her the time she needed to investigate Stan’s whereabouts.
Thankfully she was assigned to the produce department, which she liked. It meant the possibility of taking home some unwanted fruit or vegetable at the end of the day. The people who ran that stand were very kind to her. She worked all the harder to please them. But today there was only one thing on her mind: Find Stan.
The morning seemed to drag longer than usual. Would the noon hour ever get there? The gentle Italian man who owned the business came up to her and in his broken English, asked, “You no feel good today, Rachael?”
“No, I’m fine,” she answered, then hurried to start unpacking another box of oranges. A little embarrassed with her slow pace, she picked up steam and tried to stop thinking of Stan.
It was cool in that part of the market, cool enough to keep her coat and gloves on but she removed the scarf and opened the top of her coat so she could move around without restriction. A small gas heater sat at the edge of the counter where the produce was displayed. She often went over and warmed her hands.
Finally, the noon hour struck and she was off to the department store. She walked along at a quickened stride in a hurry to get there. It seemed like that store was far away as she passed by all the shops and stores along the way, but of course, it really wasn’t any farther than it had been the week before.
Once through the big glass doors, she marched right to the counter for directions. “Where can I find the manager?” she asked the clerk behind the desk.
Given directions to the second floor, she took the stairs up and then searched for the office the woman told her about. She noticed the door with the letters in big print, Manager.
Before she could knock on the door, it opened and out walked a man she could get some information from.
“Excuse me, sir; can I talk to you for a minute?”
He stopped and looked at her. “Yes, what can I do for you?”
“Are you the manager here?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Uh, I’m looking for someone and I thought you might know where I can find him. His name is Stan and he is supposed to start working here this week.”
“Oh, yes, Stanley. He will be here tomorrow. Seems he had a little accident the other night getting down from the streetcar. He hurt his foot and has it wrapped up to correct the damage, so we’re going to assign him to a desk job temporarily. He sent his brother over this morning to let us know. Are you a relative also?”
Shocked by the news, Rachael stood back and stared up at him. “No, just a friend.�
�
“Would you like me to tell him you inquired about him?”
“No thanks, I’ll stop by tomorrow to see him, and thank you for your time.” She turned and walked away leaving the man standing there, likely wondering about her.
With only another half hour for lunch, she hurried back to the market for at least a cup of hot chocolate which she could get for half price. All the workers got discounts at lunchtime. Rachael took advantage of anything she could get for less money.
The market's busy morning had dwindled down by late afternoon and there were a few things left at the produce stand for the workers to take home. Rachael selected two apples and a large head of cabbage that didn’t look too bad. She wrapped her scarf up around her neck, put on her gloves, and then took the brown paper bag containing her take for the day to wait at the corner for her ride home.
As she passed the department store, she stared at the front doors in anticipation of returning there tomorrow and seeing Stan. Now it was clear why he hadn't shown up Saturday night. She couldn’t help wonder how he had managed to hurt his foot. He hadn’t appeared to be a stumbling kind of person. How could he fall getting off the streetcar? And had it been right at the stop for her house? There was so much to find out; she could hardly wait to see him.
Her father’s car was not in the driveway. She hoped that meant he’d been offered the job he wanted and was at work.
After getting inside and stripping off her winter garb, she went to the kitchen with her gift from the market and handed it to her mother who was at the sink, scrubbing potatoes.
Her mother wiped her hands on the end of her apron and opened the bag. “How nice, apples and cabbage,” she said as she reached in and pulled the produce out. “We can have some cabbage and noodles with this,” she commented as she held up the small green head. “Not much to throw away on this one. It’s almost all good.”
Rachael loved cabbage and noodles, and was happy she was able to get a nice head of the vegetable to bring home. They often had simple meals like that. Her mother knew all kinds of ways to prepare an inexpensive dinner and made sure her family had something on the table every day.
“I found out why Stan didn’t get here Saturday,” Rachael announced while she put the two apples in the ice box. “He got hurt getting off the streetcar… something about his foot.”
“Oh my, how did he do that?” Grace responded.
“I’m not sure, I didn’t talk to him. I found out from the manager at the department store where he’s going to be working. He’ll be there tomorrow. I’ll go see him and find out.”
“Well at least, he’ll be able to get around and go to work. You’ll have to invite him again.”
“Yes, I’m going to.” She kissed her mother on the cheek. “I’m going upstairs to change. Do you need me to help with dinner?” Rachael paused and looked back at her other. “Did Dad get the job?”
“No, don’t worry about me, I have everything under control and won’t need your help tonight, and yes your father got the job.”
Rachael was tired from the long day at the market and from not having a sound and restful sleep the night before. All she wanted to do was take off her clothes, get into something more comfortable, and lay across her bed for at least an hour.
Poor Stan, she thought, as she slipped out of her dress and into a warm pair of flannel pants and shirt. Knowing he had no way to tell her what had happened she was sure he’d be happy to see her tomorrow. Her feelings for him had taken on a more meaningful level, so much that she wondered if she’d fallen in love with him. She’d never felt this way about a boy before even with some of the infatuations she’d had in high school. Stan was different, or was it she who was different… more grown up, more caring — what? All she knew was she liked him more than anyone who had ever come into her life before.
She heard her father’s voice as he came in the front door downstairs, yelling, “Hello, I’m home.” She rose from her bed to go down and greet him and find out how his new job had gone on his first day.
He looked worn and tired, but happy. “Dad, how was it today?” Rachael asked as he took off his jacket and hung it in the closet by the door.
“Good and I’m glad to be home. Is that cabbage I smell cooking?”
“Yeah, I got a head at the market today and Mom couldn’t wait to cook it up with noodles.”
“I’m hungry. Let’s go see how it’s coming.”
On their way to the kitchen, Rachael told him about Stan and he was surprised. “Here I thought he was just one of those drifters looking for a little maiden to have some fun with. I guess you never really know about people.”
Dinner was a hit and Grace was delighted with her concoction of a meal out of a sad looking head of cabbage and the homemade noodles she’d made the previous week.
The evening was the same as all evenings at the Taylor house but Rachael had more to think about than the radio program they listened to on Mondays. Her mind was zeroed in on Stan, a person she thought about a little too much.
****
He struggled to put his jacket on, only to be yelled at by his brother, Richard. “Stan, the doctor told you not to put any weight on that foot for a few days. You’re not ready to go any place just yet. Tomorrow will be soon enough.”
“It’s been a few days and I want to go see Rachael to make sure she knows I didn’t stand her up the other night.”
“You really have something going on with this girl, don’t you?” Richard took Stan’s jacket from him and hung it back up on the hook by the door.
“Yes, I do have feelings for her and I want to see her as soon as possible. She’s beautiful, Richard, and very very nice.”
“How does she feel about you?”
“Don’t really know, but she acts like she likes me. As I told you, she invited me to her house to meet her parents. I think that’s a sure sign she likes me at least.”
“Well, take it easy and wait until tomorrow. She’s not going anywhere.” Richard went to the little stove in the small space he called his kitchen and put on a pot of coffee.
The apartment of three rooms and a bath was shared by the brothers… two bedrooms, a living room with space for a table, two chairs, a small ice box, and the stove. Richard was older than Stan but had never married. He had a job with the government that took him out of the country for nine months out of the year. Home now for the holidays, he'd said he wanted to share some time with Stan because the two of them were all that was left of their family.
“It’s a good thing that lady stopped her car before she ran you over when you fell down in the street. Nice of her to take you to the hospital too.”
“I know. I thanked her before she left the emergency room. She stayed there to make sure I was going to be all right. The pain in my ankle was so bad, I could hardly tolerate it. I still don’t know how I twisted my foot like that. Before I knew it, I was down and couldn’t get up.”
“Try to stay off of it as much as you can so the sprain will heal. Want some coffee?”
“Yeah, I’ll have a cup. I still would like to go see Rachael, but I guess you’re right about doing too much too soon.”
“Tomorrow you start your new job at the department store and I’m sure you’ll connect with this Rachael girl, so relax tonight and stop worrying.” He poured the coffee and carried the two cups to the table where Stan sat, nodding his head.
Chapter Seven
Because she had lain awake so long the night before, Rachel almost overslept, but her mother came up to her bedroom to wake her. “Sleepyhead, I thought for sure you’d be up before I was this morning. You must have been awfully tired to sleep in like this,” she said as she stood by the bedroom door watching Rachael sit up and rub the sleep from her eyes. “It’s not like you. I have breakfast on the stove. You better hurry or you’ll miss the streetcar. You have less than an hour.”
Rachael slipped out of bed and rushed to the closet. “I won’t need breakfast; I can wait to
eat at lunch time. Besides, I’m not even hungry.”
The rush was on to get to the corner and not miss her ride into town. She had wanted to take an earlier train so she could stop at the department store in hopes someone would open the door and let her in, but not this late. She would have just enough time to get to work.
Refreshing cold air hit her the second she stepped outside the door. At least it wasn’t snowing, she thought as she went down the stairs and started on her journey to the corner of her street to wait for her ride.
Standing there, she wondered if Stan had his accident right there at her stop. If so he had been very close to getting to her place. Shame it had to happen.
She sat by a window gazing out into space while thinking of what she’d say to him when she got there at the lunch hour. What if he’s not there? Or, what if he’s too busy and can’t talk? She shook her head to rid her mind of those thoughts.
When she stepped out to the street and made her way to the sidewalk, the department store was about to open and a crowd of people stood near the door. It beckoned to her to come in, but a little voice inside said, You’ll be late for work and lose your job. Off she went on her way to the market, and she didn’t look back.
Her work that day consisted of packaging cheese of all kinds into one pound portions. This part of the market place handled all kinds of dairy products, including eggs, milk, lard, and butter. She liked working there because it always smelled so good and every once in awhile, she was allowed to have a little taste of one of the cheeses. What a nice day to be there after having no breakfast and nothing planned for lunch. Maybe this would be a lucky day after all.
Jennifer Robins Page 4
