“That’s what I’m thinking too, but we got off to a rather embarrassing start. I’m sure I didn’t make a good first impression.”
“If I know Kitty, she’s already laughed it off. She has a marvelous sense of humor, and she never takes anything seriously for long. Don’t be afraid to approach her again—I’m sure you’ll find that she’s very friendly.”
Justin nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Brody. That takes a weight off my shoulders.”
She stood. “I’d best get back to work—the boss is such a difficult taskmaster—but please feel free to ask if you need anything. Especially relationship advice. I’m an expert—we celebrated our second anniversary not long ago.”
Justin chuckled. “Yes, that does make you quite experienced, I’m sure. And I’ve noticed how very brutally Mr. Brody treats his employees—you’d better hop to it before you get a scolding.”
Mrs. Brody gave him a wide smile, then excused herself and returned to the lobby. Justin chuckled again as he rose from the table and placed his napkin next to his plate. He’d never seen a couple get along so well as Mr. and Mrs. Brody—it was exactly the sort of relationship he wanted for himself, one based on humor and friendship as well as attraction. His parents treated each other well, but neither had very humorous personalities.
He stopped by the bookshelf in the lobby and selected a novel to borrow, then climbed the stairs to his second-floor room. It was a bit early for turning in, but he was too worn out from the events of the day to look for something entertaining to do. A book would suit him just fine.
Before settling in with the story, he looked over the sheet music Mrs. Perry had sent with him to prepare for the next day. She certainly had high hopes for him—much higher than he had for himself. But if she was the expert and believed he could do it, it was time for him to develop that faith in himself.
No one should believe in him more strongly than he did.
Chapter Six
Kitty spent a couple of hours the next morning going over the new sheet music for her grandmother’s birthday, then stepped into the kitchen to see how she could help her mother.
Evangeline all but thrust Caroline into Kitty’s arms. “She just won’t stop fussing,” she said. “Kirsten fell asleep right away, but Caroline has been fighting it. Sometimes I think they’re outgrowing naps, but then they get so tired and cranky if they don’t sleep . . . Honestly, this is the biggest challenge of the day.”
That’s always how it was with the twins at naptime or bedtime—one would go right down and the other would resist, and they’d trade off just to keep things interesting. Kitty turned Caroline around so she could look into her pretty blue eyes. “Caroline, why won’t you take your morning nap?”
Caroline shook her head and stuck her finger in her mouth.
“I’ll take care of her, Mother. Why don’t you go lie down for a while?”
Evangeline gave Kitty a grateful look. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’ve got some bread dough rising in the loaf pans—would you mind finishing that up?”
“Don’t worry about a thing. Just get some rest.” The circles under Evangeline’s eyes were even darker than usual, and Kitty shook her head. “Mother, are you sure you’re all right? Should we call Dr. Wayment?”
Evangeline sighed. “I don’t know, Kitty. The thought of having one more thing to do overwhelms me right now, especially with Geordie coming home tomorrow. Let’s talk about it at dinner, all right?”
“All right. Get some rest. And I’ll make up Geordie’s bed—don’t worry about it.”
“Thank you, dear.”
Kitty watched her mother climb the stairs, noticing how slowly she moved, as though made of cold molasses. Before the twins came, Evangeline Clark had been a bright, energetic woman, always on the go, and now she seemed barely able to walk about the house. Something was wrong—Kitty was sure of it.
She carried Caroline over to the sofa and sat down, turning the child to face her. “Now then, little miss, what are we going to do with you?”
Caroline shook her head again. “Cookie.”
“Oh? You think you’re getting a cookie, do you? No cookies until after your nap.”
Caroline didn’t like that idea, and a furrow appeared between her brows.
“Those are the rules in this house, young lady, and you might as well get used to them. Also, you may not attend a dance or a party until you’re fifteen, and then only if you’re escorted by a trusted family friend. You may not court until you’re seventeen, and you must never be in a room alone with a young man for more than fifteen minutes at a time.”
Caroline looked at her doubtfully.
“I’m just preparing you—you’ll be facing each of these situations before we know it, and I don’t want you caught off guard.” Kitty studied her sister’s face. “You really are growing up too fast, you know.”
Caroline yawned, and that made Kitty laugh. “Yes, I know—I’m very boring. Well, why don’t you escape me by going to sleep?” She began to hum, and after a moment, she turned Caroline back around and encouraged her to snuggle. Soon the toddler had relaxed, her eyes closed, and Kitty took her into the bedroom and placed her next to Kirsten in their small bed. She had no idea how long the girls would be asleep, but any length of time was a blessed respite.
After sliding the loaf pans into the oven, Kitty sat down with a sheet of paper and began making her list of party guests. Miriam would be coming over soon, and Kitty had slacked off horribly on her assignment.
She wondered if she was giving herself away by writing Mr. Sorensen’s name at the top of the page. Truth be told, she wouldn’t mind if he was the only guest, but that might become a little awkward, especially considering the family rules she’d just recited to Caroline. Who else should go on the list . . . Hugh and Asher Spencer, of course, and Theo and Rudolph Barton. Her cousins Caleb, Gregory, and Seth. And for the girls . . . Sarah and Verity Johnson, who were Miriam’s sisters-in-law . . .
A knock on the kitchen door interrupted her train of thought, and she opened it to see Trudy Henderson standing on the other side.
“Trudy! I haven’t seen you in ages—come in!” Kitty stepped back and let her friend enter. “How have you been?”
“Good, but so busy,” Trudy replied. “I’ve been applying everywhere for a teaching post, and I feel like all I do these days is write letters. But then I stopped in at the Sewing Shoppe and Grandmother told me she’d seen you recently, and I realized how much I missed you.”
“I’m so glad you came by. I’ve been helping Mother with the twins—what a full-time endeavor that’s turned out to be.” Kitty checked the kettle on the stove. “Would you like some tea?”
“Yes, please,” Trudy said as she untied her bonnet. “And what’s this I hear about Mr. Frost getting married?”
Kitty sighed. “Yes, it’s true—he got away from me. I should have snapped him up when I had the chance. Now I’ll never marry, and I’ll end up a dried old prune.”
Trudy raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yes. That’s essentially what his mother told me when she found out I’d rejected him. It was so hard to keep a straight face.” Kitty set the sugar bowl in the middle of the table. “If I’d married him, that would have turned me into a prune faster than anything I can think of. He and Miss Stevens will be very well suited, and in the meantime, we’re going to have a party.” She pointed to the sheet of paper on the table. “Help me finish the guest list. You’re not on there because you’re an obvious choice, not because I forgot you.”
“Well, I’m going to write myself down anyway.” Trudy picked up the pencil and signed her name with a flourish. “And I don’t see Miriam—another obvious choice?”
“Yes. In fact, the party was her idea, and we’re holding it at her grandmother’s house.” Kitty put the teapot next to the sugar and sat back down. “Our objective is to shake the doldrums out of me, and the best way to do that is by dancing. And eating cake.”
“I’
m sorry to hear about your doldrums, but I agree about the method of treatment.” Trudy studied the list again. “Who’s this Justin Sorensen at the top? I don’t recognize the name.”
“Well, now . . .” Kitty poured out the tea, then added some sugar to hers. “He’s come to town to study with Mrs. Perry, and while we had a very unfortunate first meeting, I think . . . well, there might be something there.”
“I’m hearing a lot of ‘well’ going on here,” Trudy said with a smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so unsure.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt so unsure.” Kitty told her friend a quick version of the story, hoping to get her advice. “I know that I’m interested in him, but I have no way of knowing how he might feel about me, and the uncertainty is maddening.” She took a sip of her tea, then added a little more sugar. “He was staring at me, but what does that mean? Perhaps . . . perhaps I had some flour on my face or something.”
Trudy laughed. “You’re being too hard on yourself. Why wouldn’t he be interested? You have simply everything to offer—looks, talent, wit, charm. If I could find all those things in a man, I’d marry him in an instant.”
“I thought you’d decided to teach instead of marrying,” Kitty said.
Trudy stirred her tea, looking thoughtful. “I do want to teach, but these days, I’m not sure if it’s all I should ever want.”
“I’ve been wrestling with that very thing myself,” Kitty replied. “Why must life be so limited? Why must it be one or the other? You should be able to teach and be married both, if that’s what you want.”
“That’s what I’ve always thought, but sadly, that’s not the way of the world.” Trudy set down her spoon. “Enough about me, though—we’re dissecting your love life right now. I gather that you’re hoping to get to know Mr. Sorenson better at the party.”
“Yes. In fact, that might be my secret motive for having a party in the first place … or maybe my not-so-secret motive. I’m about as subtle as a snake in the linen cupboard.”
Trudy laughed. “That’s one of the things I’ve always liked about you—you aren’t cagey about your feelings. I always know exactly where you’re coming from.”
“Sometimes to my detriment.” Kitty shook her head. “I wouldn’t change who I am—I think I’m rather delightful—but I don’t think other people know how to take me.”
“By other people, you mean . . . men.”
“That’s right. They want demure wives, obedient wives . . . Gracious. I don’t remember the last time I obeyed anyone.”
“That can’t be true—you help your mother all the time,” Trudy reminded her.
“Yes, but that’s different. She asks for my help, but she doesn’t demand it. I don’t do well with demands.” Kitty finished her tea, then carried her cup and saucer over to the basin. “And that, dear friend, is why I’m not sure if I want to marry. Domesticity seems like nothing but a series of demands.”
“If you didn’t marry, you’d still be cooking and cleaning and sewing and mending . . . you’d just be doing it alone instead of for someone else,” Trudy pointed out.
“When you put it that way, the alone part . . . it really does sound terrible.” Kitty sat back down and rested her chin on her hands. “I will gladly marry when I find the young man who can endure my flippant ways. Until then, though, it won’t happen. I want to be happy, not just complacent.”
Trudy nodded. “I understand. I really do. But I keep telling myself that I need to teach for at least two years before I move on to something else—I worked hard to get my teaching certificate, and I don’t want that effort to go to waste.”
“I think that’s very wise of you.” Kitty slid the guest list toward herself. “Oh, good. You added more names.”
“Yes, I did—a proper party needs a proper turnout. And now I need to get over to the post office—more letters to mail.” Trudy stood and picked up her bonnet. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a neglectful friend. I won’t let so much time pass before my next visit.”
“Maybe I’ll shock you by coming around to see you instead,” Kitty replied.
“You’re so busy here, I don’t mind making the trip myself. And plan on me for the party—I’ve been a little out of sorts too, and this sounds like just the thing.”
Kitty saw Trudy to the door, then smiled as she saw Miriam approaching. Her two friends paused and spoke with each other for a moment, then Miriam continued toward the house and Trudy continued toward the street.
“It’s so good to see Trudy,” Miriam said as she entered the house. “I thought she’d been eaten alive by her textbooks.”
“I did too—such a nice surprise that she showed up today. She helped with the guest list—see?” Kitty handed it over. “Oh, the bread! Just a minute.”
She pulled the golden loaves from the oven and set them to cool. Another few minutes, and they would have been too dark. She’d burned the bread before and they’d survived it, but she was trying to do better.
“Our lists are almost identical,” Miriam said, placing both sheets side by side on the table. “I brought stationery so we can write out the invitations.”
“Good. If we’re quick, maybe we can get them done before the twins wake up.”
They chattered as they worked, Kitty keeping one ear trained toward the bedroom where the twins were napping. They only had a few invitations left to write when she heard the sound of childish babbling, and Miriam offered to finish up while Kitty got the girls from their bed.
“Here we are, all freshly changed and rested,” Kitty said a few minutes later, leading the twins into the kitchen. “Say hello to Auntie Miriam.”
Even though the girls knew Miriam quite well, they both ducked behind Kitty’s legs, and she laughed. “You know how they are—give them another five minutes and they’ll be crawling all over you.”
Miriam laughed too. “Yes, and I’ll love every minute of it. I just wonder . . . Do you think I’ll be a good mother?”
Kitty blinked. “Of course! Why are you even questioning it?”
“It’s just . . . I have so few memories of my own mother. Of course my grandmother did a wonderful job caring for me, but still, the question lingers in the back of my mind. Will I know what to do? Will I know the difference between a hungry cry and a tired cry . . .”
Evangeline had entered the room while Miriam was speaking, and she put a hand on Miriam’s shoulder. “You’ll know exactly what to do because most of it is instinct, and that comes with having the baby,” she said. “You’ll want some advice on the practical side of things like how to pin a diaper, but as for the rest of it, you’ll know that child like you know yourself.”
“I will? You’re sure?”
Evangeline smiled. “I have four children to back up my claims . . . although now that I think about it, the twins are harder to figure out than Kitty and Geordie were. I think they plan things behind my back.”
“I do too,” Kitty said. “They’re quite masterful at it, even though they’re still so young.”
Miriam chuckled. “Well, I hope that I’m starting out with just one. I’m already doubtful enough—I’m not sure I’d survive it if I had two children actively plotting against me.” She stood up. “I’ll take these envelopes to the post office on my way home. We’re cutting it pretty close, but I’ll see if I can’t sweet-talk the postmaster into delivering them extra quick.” She paused. “Maybe I’ll deliver this one to the Brody Hotel personally so it doesn’t get lost or delayed.”
Kitty grinned. “That might be the wisest course of action. It would be quite terrible if a wind came up and blew the letter right out of the carrier’s hand.”
“Indeed it would. By seeing to it personally, I’m forestalling every chance of that happening.” Miriam waved at the twins and gathered up the envelopes. “I’ll see you all later.”
Once the door was closed, the twins lost their shyness and began to cavort around. Evangeline smiled at them fondly. “Miriam will be
a wonderful mother, and so will you someday, Kitty,” she said. “I want you to stop worrying so much about whether or not you’ll get married—you’ve been quite consumed with it lately. Enjoy life while you can and then see what it brings you. Worrying only creates problems—it doesn’t solve them.”
“I know,” Kitty said with a sigh. “I never used to worry about anything, and now it seems that I can’t stop. Am I getting old, Mother?”
Evangeline laughed. “No, because if you are, that means I am too, and I refuse. Now, tell me who you’ve invited and what you plan to serve. I want to hear every detail.”
Chapter Seven
Instead of going straight back to the hotel after his meeting with Mrs. Perry that day, Justin walked down Main Street, taking in his new surroundings. He’d only been to Mrs. Perry’s and to Dr. Wayment’s since his arrival, and now he stepped into the general store and bought some lemon drops, which were always soothing to his throat, and a notebook so he could record the things he was learning for future reference. Mrs. Perry had a way of making comments that at first seemed offhand, but would then prove to make all the difference in his execution, and he didn’t want to forget the finer points of this education he was receiving.
He continued on his way slowly, needing to clear his head. Mrs. Perry had expected more of him that afternoon than he’d done in months, and he’d risen to every challenge. He was nervous, of course, fearing that he wouldn’t be able to hit certain notes or project certain volumes, but he’d done it all, and the exhaustion was emotional as well as physical.
He’d really done it. He’d really broken through those barriers. It was a heady feeling.
As he entered the hotel and crossed the lobby, he was hailed by one of the waitresses who was tending the counter. “Mr. Sorenson, this was just delivered for you.”
Buttons and Bows (The Sewing Circle Book 3) Page 5
