by Debby Mayne
“Don’t forget who you are, Lillian.” Her mother’s voice gave her pause before she touched the doorknob.
“Trust me, Mama, I can never forget who I am.” She refrained from reminding Mama who’d invited William for dinner.
As soon as Lillian opened the door, her gaze locked with William’s. He shuffled and glanced down, directing her attention to the bundles nestled in the crook of one arm and a bouquet of flowers in the other hand. He thrust the flowers toward her. “Presents. For you.”
“Presents?” Lillian started to smile as she took the flowers, but Mama’s presence loomed behind her. “That’s not necessary.”
“I realize that, but Mom and Nelda baked some delicious cookies.” He shifted the Five and Dime bag to his now-empty hand. “And candy.”
“That’s an awful lot of sweets.”
“Come in, Mr. Tronnier, and let me take your coat,” Mama said as she came around from behind Lillian and took him by the arm. “Where are your manners, girl?”
“That’s quite all right,” he said as he stepped inside. Mama took the cookies and candy, leaving him and Lillian to stand there staring at each other. “I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”
“But cookies, candy, and flowers? You didn’t need to bring anything, but one of those would have been sufficient.”
“Sufficient?” A grin tweaked the corners of his lips. “For what?”
She was aware that he watched her reactions, so she tried to keep a straight face and changed the subject. “Why don’t you come on back to the kitchen and talk to my father? Mama made him stay there so he wouldn’t pounce on you the instant you came in.”
“Why would he pounce on me?”
Lillian shrugged. “He’s suddenly developed an interest in farming, for some odd reason.”
“Then lead me to him. I love a good farming conversation.”
Lillian couldn’t tell if he was serious or kidding, but regardless, she motioned for him to follow. Daddy stood up by the table when they entered the room.
“You don’t have to get up, Mr. Pickard.” William glanced down at Lillian and winked. “I’d love to sit down, if it’s all right with you.”
“By all means,” her daddy said.
As the men chatted, Lillian helped her mother prepare dinner. The whole scene felt cozier than she was comfortable with.
Mama had a pot of turnip greens cooking beside a larger pot filled with chicken. She’d rolled out the dough for dumplings, and her favorite cast-iron skillet was well-seasoned and oiled, waiting for the corn bread batter. Lillian worked in silence as she wondered if this was a typical meal for the Tronniers. It used to be for the Pickards, until Daddy lost his job. Lillian’s paycheck didn’t stretch far enough to indulge in such a lavish meal very often.
Every once in a while, when the men’s conversation stalled, William offered to help with something. “Mom sometimes gives me a task in the kitchen to keep me from raiding the cookie jar,” he explained.
“Our cookie jar is in the cupboard, and there hasn’t been anything in it since…” Mama’s voice trailed off as Daddy glared at her. “You and Frank go on and finish chatting.”
After another half hour of preparations, Lillian set the table. Daddy and William poured and placed the tea while the women put everything in serving bowls and set them on the counter. “I hope you don’t mind buffet style. The table is so tiny—”
William held up his hands and smiled. “I enjoy buffet suppers. Mind if I say the blessing?”
Her daddy nodded. “Go right ahead. That would be very nice of you.”
As William thanked the Lord for the food they were about to eat, Lillian had no doubt that his words were sincere. She was amazed at how humble he came across when he had every reason not to be.
“So tell me about the soybeans,” Daddy asked between bites. “Why did your father decide not to grow tobacco?”
“That seems to be what everyone else is growing, so we thought soybeans filled a need.”
Daddy squinted before slowly nodding. “Supply and demand. Good business move.”
Lillian cringed at the very thought of Daddy coming across as though he knew anything about business. Even though William must have been a good fifteen years her father’s junior, he probably knew more about the farming business than her daddy would ever know.
“Pop was talking about adding some crops for rotation. Any thoughts on that?”
Her daddy swallowed his food and rubbed his chin as he pondered William’s question. Lillian cut a brief glance in William’s direction to see if he was poking fun at her daddy…but he looked serious.
“Maybe some corn and potatoes. Those might be good crops to balance the soybeans. I know you have some cows. Have you considered adding more livestock?”
“We’ve considered it, but even with a few hired hands, we don’t have the manpower to handle the business end of it. As it is, Pop and Amos do most of the work on the books.” William chuckled. “And I don’t think Amos and Mason are as big on office work as they thought they might be.”
“I understand,” her daddy said. “But it’s necessary in any kind of business, including farming.”
“Amos likes working outdoors, as do I, but Pop says it’s much easier to find help for the crops than someone who’d want to sit indoors way out in the middle of nowhere.”
“I’d hardly call your farm ‘nowhere,’ ” Mama said. “It’s a lovely place, from what I remember.”
“You’ve been to the house?” William asked.
Mama blushed. “Well, yes, but only once. I was on a church committee collecting quilts, and your mother offered to contribute some of hers.”
“Mom and my grandma used to do quite a bit of quilting, until Grandma got sick. Then it seemed like all Mom ever did was wait on Grandma hand and foot until she passed away.”
“I’m sorry,” Mama said softly. She stood and skittered toward the stove. “Would you like more corn bread? I can whip up another batch in no time.”
William held up his hands and shoved away from the table. “No thank you, Mrs. Pickard. The food was delicious, but I’m afraid I ate too much.”
“You’re a hardworking man, Mr. Tronnier. I would expect you to eat quite a bit.” She lifted the basket of cookies and carried them over to the table. “How about a cookie? I’d planned to make some shortbread after dinner, but these cookies look much better.”
“I ate a few too many cookies while Mom and Nelda were baking them, so I’ll have to pass.”
Lillian stood and started gathering plates. William hopped up to help.
“Why don’t I help you with the dishes, Lillian, so your parents can relax?”
“No, you don’t—” Mama began, before William gently placed his hands on her shoulders, turned her toward the living room, and guided her a few steps.
Lillian stifled a laugh at the expression on Mama’s face. Daddy didn’t waste any time getting up and hobbling out of the kitchen, leaving his daughter alone with their guest.
“So now what?” William asked as he carried some dishes to the sink.
“I can wash, and you can dry.”
“No, that’s not what I’m talking about. I want to know what I can do to make you want to spend more time with me.”
“There really isn’t much you can do.”
“Why don’t you like me?” William continued transporting dishes across the kitchen until the table was completely cleared. “Did I say something to upset you?”
“No, not really.” Lillian had no idea how to explain something that should have been as obvious as the nose on her face.
“Surely you can give me a good reason why you don’t want me around.”
Lillian spun around and faced him directly. “Why do you think I don’t want you around?”
“You don’t like farmers?” He grabbed a towel and motioned for her to start washing. “Or you think I’m a boor?”
That was funny, but she didn’t laugh. “Farmer
s are fine, and, no, you are not a boor.”
“Then what is it? What did I do?” He chewed on his bottom lip for a few seconds. “Or what did I not do that I should have done?”
Now she burst out in laughter. “You haven’t done…or not done anything.”
“Then it doesn’t make sense. I like you, and I bring you gifts. I give you rides when you’re too tired to walk. If I haven’t done anything wrong and there’s nothing you want me to do that I haven’t done…” He stopped and gave her a pretend hurt look.
Lillian tried as hard as she could to keep a straight face, but the conversation had taken such a silly twist and his face was so goofy that it wasn’t possible. As soon as she burst into laughter, he joined in.
“At least you find me amusing,” he said.
“Indeed I do.”
“Laughter is a good thing between a man and a woman. I often witness Mom and Pop sharing a little private humor.”
Lillian couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard her parents amusing each other, but she didn’t mention that. Instead, she kept the conversation on his parents. “How does your mother like being a farmer’s wife?”
William shrugged. “I think she’d probably enjoy living in town, but Pop knows that, so he does everything he can to make her happy.” He ran his towel over a clean dish. “Or at least as happy as he can, considering she doesn’t get to see her friends as often as she’d like.”
“Does she ever get involved in your family’s business?”
“She tried doing the books, but Pop had to relieve her of that duty after she got the debit and credit columns confused one time too many.” He stacked the last of the dry dishes. “Where do you want me to put these?”
Chapter Five
William stuck around and chatted with Daddy for less than an hour before he asked for his coat. Mama stood by the door, preventing Lillian from seeing him off.
After she closed the door, Mama turned to Lillian and shook her head. “I don’t see anything good coming of this.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Daddy said. “He’s a good boy. Smart too.”
“He’s not Lillian’s type.”
“Why don’t we let Lillian and William decide that?” Daddy asked.
“What if they continue seeing each other and fall in love?”
“Aren’t you jumping the gun, Helen? He just came over for supper. Besides, we raised a smart daughter, so I’m sure she can figure things out on her own.”
Lillian wished her parents wouldn’t discuss her as though she weren’t there. “Y’all don’t have to worry about anything,” Lillian piped in. “I’m too busy working and helping out around here to fall in love with anyone.”
Her parents exchanged a pained look before Daddy turned back to her. “Lillian, honey, we want you to find someone to love one of these days. But I do agree with your mama that whoever the man winds up being should be closer to…well, more similar to…” His voice trailed off as he turned to Mama for help.
“What your father is trying to say is that we don’t want you getting hurt or involved with someone who might turn you into some hoity-toity person who’ll be ashamed of us.”
“I can’t believe either of you would think so little of me. I would never do that.”
“Maybe not, but we shouldn’t have to keep reminding you that there are quite a few differences between the Tronniers and our family.” Mama glanced at Daddy for reinforcement, and when he looked away, she continued. “Money does strange things to people.”
“I think this conversation is pointless,” Lillian said. “First of all, you are the one who invited him to supper. And second, I never said or did anything to give anyone the impression that something was going on between Will—Mr. Tronnier and me.”
* * * * *
The next morning, Lillian trudged to work after a long, sleepless night of remembering her evening with William. She had to admit, he was charming. And handsome. When his hand grazed hers as she handed him the dishes, her stomach had fluttered. But the last thing she needed was to lose her heart to someone she couldn’t have.
Mr. Joachim was at the Five and Dime when she arrived, and the instant she walked in, he started talking. “William Tronnier stopped by yesterday right before closing. He asked about you.”
Alarms sounded in Lillian’s head. She didn’t want her boss to think that something was going on between her and William. “Did he—did he say anything?”
“He just asked if you were still here.” Mr. Joachim chuckled. “The man must have quite a lot on his mind. He almost forgot to get what he came for.”
Lillian relaxed. William obviously hadn’t let on that he was pursuing her. Mr. Joachim scurried around the counter and stood with his hands on his hips as he surveyed the store.
“Christmas comes mighty fast. It’ll be here before ya know it. Let’s put a few things up here. We can decorate in stages.” He took off for the back room, leaving Lillian alone at the front of the store.
Until last year, decorations had gone up the day before Thanksgiving so they’d be in place for the day after, when some of their customers liked to start their Christmas shopping. But Mr. Joachim had been making trips to New York City, where people did things differently. In many cases Lillian welcomed the changes, but this was one she didn’t agree with.
Mr. Joachim reappeared with a cardboard box. “We can start by stringing some lights in the window. My wife is making garlands and bows too.”
Rather than voice her opinion, Lillian simply nodded. She didn’t have the energy to tell him what she thought, knowing that he wouldn’t pay a bit of attention.
Since there were no customers in the store, the two of them framed the window with Christmas lights right away. At least she’d been able to talk Mr. Joachim out of lighting the real candles he’d used before she started working for him, reminding him that a fire could destroy his business and leave him with nothing.
After they finished clipping the last wire into place, he stood back and nodded. “Looks good for now. Why don’t you grab a pack of colored paper and cut out some letters to spell ‘Merry Christmas,’ between customers? We can tape those to the window.”
“Can’t that wait at least another month?” she asked.
He frowned. “I s’pose. I just don’t want to lose any business this season.”
A customer arrived, so after a brief greeting Mr. Joachim scooted to the back of the store, leaving Lillian to do the selling. She brought a handbasket to the customer and offered her assistance. While the first customer was shopping, a couple more came in. Lillian loved being busy.
Business was steady throughout the day, with only a few lulls. Still, she found a chance to eat the lunch she kept tucked beneath the counter. Most days Mr. Joachim took over so she could eat in the office and take a break, but today he had to attend a meeting to greet some of the new business owners in town.
That afternoon, Lillian waited on a couple of groups of kids from the boarding school, sawmill workers after their shifts ended, a family who was changing trains and had an overnight stay in Cary, and her pastor’s wife.
“It sure was nice to see someone new at church on Sunday,” Mary Beth Butler said. “I hear he’s one of the Tronnier boys.”
So people had been talking. “Yes, ma’am, he is.”
“Will he be coming back? Pastor and I would love to see him again.”
“I–I’m not sure.” Lillian hadn’t even known he was coming last time, so she certainly wouldn’t know what he planned for the future.
“Are the two of you seeing each other?”
“No.” Lillian surprised herself with such an abrupt reply, and she forced a smile. “I mean, I barely know him. We met last Christmas and…” She had no idea what else to say.
Mrs. Butler offered an understanding grin as she touched Lillian on the arm. “I see. No one knows what the future holds, though, so we can keep praying for God’s will.”
“Ye
s, ma’am, that’s what I like to do.”
“Good.” Mrs. Butler sashayed past the counter and made her way down the aisle of cleaning products. “Gussie asked me to pick up a new broom and some scouring pads. Would you mind showing me where they are? I don’t buy them very often, and I can see that you have rearranged the store.”
Lillian found what Mrs. Butler needed and carried the items to the front for her. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No, I—” The sound of the bell on the door stopped her, and both Lillian and Mrs. Butler looked up.
William Tronnier came walking in and grinned at the women.
“Hi there, Lillian.” He nodded toward Mrs. Butler. “And how do you do, Mrs. Butler? Your husband preached a mighty fine sermon on Sunday.”
“Thank you, young man. We would like to have you back soon. Miss Pickard and I were just talking—”
Lillian cleared her throat. “Mrs. Butler, would you like to see some of the new night cream we just got in? Some of the customers who have tried it say it makes their skin feel really soft the next morning.”
Mrs. Butler slowly nodded with a knowing look in her eyes. “That sounds very nice, Lillian. Yes, I would like to buy some, and then I’d better be getting on my way.”
William stood off to the side of the counter while Lillian rang up Mrs. Butler’s order. After she said her good-byes, he tipped his head and wished her a good evening.
Then he spun around and looked directly at Lillian. “Sorry if I interrupted something. I just wanted to stop by and tell you how much I enjoyed supper last night.”
“Mama’s a very good cook.” Lillian left out the fact that Mama rarely had much to work with and that she’d spent most of the week’s allowance on that one meal.
“Good. Then she might enjoy some of the bounty my pop sent. He had a bunch of produce left over from the harvest, and since we hate to have it go to waste, he suggested bringing it to you as a thank-you for being such great hosts.”
“You don’t have to do that, William.”
