by Judith Pella
“After you brought it up.”
“Still, it is the neighborly thing to do.”
“I don’t want you to pretend to be friends with Tamara just to undermine her.”
That statement, spoken with a superior tone, as if Ellie was her mother, sent Maggie’s ire soaring once more. “If you don’t have the stomach for this, then you can go back home!”
“Maggie . . .” Ellie beseeched.
As usual, Maggie needed her big sister’s approval. And she truly did not want to be deceptive. “I’m not going to pretend,” she appeased. “She seems like a nice girl that I could easily be friends with.”
“I think you should tell her right off about your interest in Colby.”
Maggie gasped. “I couldn’t!”
“What would it hurt? Maybe she would put aside any designs she might have on Colby.”
“Why would she do that?” Maggie argued. “And what of Mrs. Stoddard’s designs? Once she learns of my interest in her son, she will think me a brazen hussy.”
“Hardly. She might even like the idea of Colby matching with a local girl.”
Maggie replied with a skeptical sidelong look.
“Okay,” Ellie conceded. “You might not want it to get back to Mrs. Stoddard, but couldn’t you get Tamara alone and tell her in confidence? Even if she chooses not to step aside, you will have been honest.”
“This is not one of those times when honesty is the best policy,” Maggie insisted. She knew Ellie’s intractable moral sensibilities might have a difficult time with that idea, but Maggie believed you could be quiet about something and not be deceptive. “I don’t care if Tamara steps aside or not. My main intent is merely to present Evan in a good light to her. That wouldn’t be deceptive because I think he is a fine person. She just needs to realize that the brotherly affection she felt for him is more than that, like how Grandma realized it about Grandpa.”
“Okay, Maggie, I’ll go along,” Ellie said. “And if I see things get out of hand, I will say something.”
“I can always count on you to be my conscience,” Maggie said sarcastically.
They reached the Stoddards’, and Sarah welcomed them at the door. They weren’t expected, but visits were always welcome in the little community. Mrs. Stoddard, Sarah, and Tamara were busy at work in the kitchen. Three bushels of apples were sitting on the floor, and Sarah and Tamara were paring and coring them while Mrs. Stoddard was slicing them up to place on drying racks. Ellie and Maggie offered their help and were immediately given paring knives.
“We haven’t got our apples yet,” Ellie said, “but Mama warned us we will be busy next week.”
“Soon as this batch is done,” Mrs. Stoddard suggested, “we will do some apple butter.”
“You do make the best apple butter, Mrs. Stoddard,” Maggie put in. She didn’t care if it was shameless flattery. No one but Ellie would guess.
“I have so enjoyed all the domestic chores since I’ve come here,” Tamara said. “I have never dried an apple or cooked hardly anything.”
“Never cooked?” Maggie asked, clearly astonished. “What do you do with yourself all day in Portland?”
“Maggie, don’t be rude,” reproved Mrs. Stoddard, as if she were Maggie’s mother.
“That’s all right,” Tamara replied. “She has a right to be surprised. It does sound terribly lazy, and I am rather ashamed.”
“You have many other talents, my dear,” Mrs. Stoddard said.
“Tamara is an accomplished pianist,” Sarah put in meekly. “She is also an excellent violinist.”
“Really?” Maggie knew she couldn’t compete with that because she could barely carry a tune much less play a musical instrument. “Do you stitch?” Maggie held her breath waiting for the dreaded answer.
“I do a little needlepoint. My mother says all refined ladies should be handy with a needle. I don’t make quilts like Mrs. Stoddard and Sarah. They have shown me some of their work, and I am simply in awe. I practice my music all the time, so there is little left for other pleasures.”
Maggie searched Tamara’s tone for signs of bragging or arrogance but found none. “My grandmother is helping me refine my stitching,” she said. It was time she sang her own praises, though they be few, just so Mrs. Stoddard would know what she was up to.
“Sarah began learning to stitch when she was five and was quite accomplished by age nine,” boasted Mrs. Stoddard.
Maggie shrank down in her chair. Maybe her grandmother was right, and it was impossible to please some people.
“Maybe I could learn with you,” Tamara said enthusiastically. Then she added quickly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be presumptuous.”
“Maggie, isn’t that a wonderful idea?” Ellie agreed, much to Maggie’s surprise. “I’m sure Grandma wouldn’t mind.”
Part of Maggie thought this would play into her scheme perfectly, but another part, taking her by surprise, was reluctant to share her time with Grandmother. Also, her stitching, such as it was, appeared to be her only edge over Tamara. If Tamara learned to sew, and no doubt she would excel at it, Maggie’s hopes would be diminished that much more. What had Ellie been thinking in encouraging this? Surely she wasn’t trying to sabotage Maggie. But now that the subject was raised, Maggie would appear ungracious if she rejected Tamara’s request.
“I’ll mention it to my grandmother,” Maggie said, but she couldn’t quite match Ellie’s enthusiasm.
Mrs. Stoddard actually offered, though unwittingly, a reprieve for Maggie. “If I had known you were interested in learning to stitch, Tamara, I would have offered to teach you myself.”
“That is kind of you, Mrs. Stoddard, but you have done so much for me already. And you are so busy with your household duties, especially with Mr. Stoddard taken ill lately. I wouldn’t want to impose further. I thought since Maggie’s grandmother was already teaching and might have more time on her hands while she is visiting . . . but maybe it is a bad idea.”
“My feelings would not be wounded if you sought out Mrs. Spooner’s expertise. She is quite an adept stitcher and could teach you much,” Mrs. Stoddard said.
Groaning inwardly, Maggie didn’t think the afternoon could get worse after that, but it did when Mrs. Stoddard sorted through a bowl of sliced apples both Ellie and Maggie had filled.
“Girls, I don’t know how your mother likes it,” she scolded, “but I like my apples sliced thinner, please.” She was holding in her hand several that Maggie had done. And Maggie had the feeling they all knew it was she and not Ellie who had cut those apples.
When the apples were done, Mrs. Stoddard suggested the girls go into the parlor and listen to Tamara play her violin. Colby came in just then from working outside, and Mrs. Stod-dard herded him into the parlor, as well. Tamara acted embarrassed at being on display like this, but once she started playing, she seemed to forget that and became caught up in the music. She cajoled Sarah to accompany her on the piano so that she wouldn’t be the lone performer.
Maggie was bored with it and glanced over at Colby. She was gratified to see a very bored look on his face, too.
When Tamara finished, Maggie patted the divan where she was seated with Ellie. “Colby, come sit. You must be dog-tired after working all day.”
“I’m too dirty to sit on Mother’s good furniture,” he said.
He looked rather rakish and certainly handsome standing with an arm propped up on the mantel. Even in patched dungarees he took Maggie’s breath away.
“In any case,” he went on, “I must leave you ladies to your visiting. I came in for only a moment to bring Mother some potatoes for supper. Tamara, thank you for the entertainment.”
“You are so welcome, Colby,” Tamara said. “But you have no doubt gotten your fill of music these last few days.”
“We can use more culture around here,” he said.
“Tamara,” Sarah asked, “can you show me once more how to hold the bow?” Apparently Tamara was teaching Sarah to play. Sa
rah was already an excellent pianist, but she loved music and Maggie guessed it was a kind of escape for her, as books often were for Maggie.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” Colby said as he exited. A chorus of parting words followed him.
While Sarah and Tamara were engaged in examining the violin, with Ellie observing them, Maggie waited a few moments and then slipped out of the parlor. She exited the house by the front door so Mrs. Stoddard wouldn’t see her and found Colby striding across the yard.
“Colby!” she called. Hurrying over to him, she racked her brain to think of a reason for waylaying him. It had been purely an impulsive action, and she only knew she had to use any chance she could to get near him.
He turned and her heart fluttered. This must be love!
“Hi, Maggie,” he said with a dazzling smile. “Did you have to escape the boredom?”
“Yes, sort of,” she replied. “What do people see in that kind of music? Give me a guitar and fiddle anytime.”
“Toe-tapping music!”
She grinned, knowing in her heart that she and Colby were meant to be. “You must be bored to distraction having Tamara and her music around all the time.”
“Mother has talked about buying a violin so Tamara and Sarah can play all the time. Where she’ll find the money for it, I don’t know.” His expression dimmed momentarily. “But Tamara isn’t such a bad sort to be around when you get rid of the music.”
“Really?” Maggie’s heart began to sink.
“Don’t you like her?”
“I hardly know her, but she seems nice.” Not liking the direction of their conversation and having come up with a reason for following him, she added, “I’ll bet even Tamara would enjoy the kind of music we had at the quilting party last week.”
“I sure did.”
Was he thinking about how he and Maggie had danced together? Encouraged, she went on, “We are going to have another party next Saturday. I wanted to make sure you knew.”
“I’ll be there. But you have to promise me a dance.”
She was ready to promise him her life, but with as much aplomb as she could muster, she replied, “Of course I will, Colby.”
TEN
Maggie was hard pressed at supper that night to talk her mother into holding another quilting party. She mentioned that Kendra had quilts to be quilted before her wedding.
“Two parties in one month!” Mama had exclaimed. “You’d think this was some big city.”
“I’ll help with everything, Mama,” Maggie said.
“I’ll help, too,” put in Ellie.
Maggie was surprised at this. She had expected Ellie to be opposed to the idea. She was so contrary lately.
Finally Grandma said, “I’ll be here to help, as well. It sounds like fun. I was so disappointed to miss Ellie’s party.”
In the end Mama agreed to talk it over with Nessa at the Sewing Circle on Sunday.
When supper was finished and the dishes cleared, Zack and Ellie went outside to sit on the porch. Maggie joined them, as was often her habit. She had slipped into the role of chaperone when the couple wanted to be alone. Maggie’s presence satisfied Mama and Dad, and Zack and Ellie were fairly at ease with Maggie around. It was a suitable arrangement for all except perhaps Maggie, who didn’t much like having to pretend to be invisible while Zack and Ellie talked, sharing all the sweet nothings couples usually share. Maggie didn’t complain because it did indicate her parents trusted her and, at least in this instance, perceived her as an adult.
Tonight, however, Zack and Ellie were quieter than usual. There seemed to be some tension in the air. She’d missed sitting with them last night because she’d been entertaining Evan. Now she wondered if they had had an argument of some sort and thought they might appreciate it if she broke the ice. “Ellie, thank you for offering to help with the party.”
“I do think there should be a quilting for Kendra. She is going to be married first. She may have only three or four tops done, but I know she will appreciate getting them quilted before her wedding. Mrs. Wallard is probably too shy to mention it.”
Maggie was disappointed Ellie hadn’t said anything about the real purpose of the party. She’d hoped her sister was finally on her side. Ellie had been understandably surprised when Maggie had announced the party to the girls at the Stoddard house after returning from going after Colby. But she had not said anything about it on their walk home.
“Do you still think I am trying to be deceptive?” Maggie asked bluntly.
“I don’t know,” Ellie answered evasively. “But you only want to have the party in order to get close to Colby. You don’t really care about Kendra.”
“That’s not true!” Maggie retorted. “Kendra is going to be my sister-in-law, and I do care about her. Maybe she, at least, will support me once in a while.”
Then Zack asked, “What’s wrong with having a party?”
Ellie looked at him sharply, perhaps perceiving his words as unsupportive toward her. “You of all people, Zack, should see how manipulating people never works out.”
“This is different from what I did,” Zack replied, his tone a little tense.
Though Maggie knew there had been some bumps lately in Zack and Ellie’s road to happiness, she had not believed it anything serious. She certainly had never heard them have an argument. She wasn’t pleased to think she’d started one now, so she jumped in, trying to soothe their ruffled feathers. “Maybe Ellie is right. I didn’t think it would hurt anything, though.”
“Did you know that in England,” Zack said, “the upper classes have something they call the ‘Season.’ For several months each year parties or balls are held almost every day to allow young women to ‘come out’ to society. The purpose is to provide opportunities for the girls to find husbands. It is too bad that the girls here have to resort to more illusive means.”
“I imagine that even in England the young people must resort to subtlety in these matters,” Ellie said. “As in the case when two girls want the same man.”
“That is a fact of life, Ellie,” Zack stated, as if he’d just won the argument. “Romance is often a path fraught with twists and turns. Even someone as straightforward as you, Ellie, didn’t have a completely unfettered path in your quest for a husband.”
“I haven’t a husband yet,” she said solemnly. Then her frosty expression melted, and she smiled. “Oh, I guess you are right. I just hate to think someone might get hurt—especially you, Mags.”
“That’s what I love about you, Ellie,” Zack exclaimed. “You have the tenderest heart I have ever seen.”
Maggie took the cue of Zack’s moon-faced expression to melt into the shadows.
Later, after Zack had gone home, Maggie’s sense of vindication prompted her to broach another prickly topic.
“Ellie, why did you support Tamara’s interest in learning to sew?” Seeing that her sister might take this as a challenge, she quickly added, “I really want to know because I value your opinion.”
“Well, when Tamara brought it up, I saw it as a perfect way for you to get to know her better.”
“My first thought was that I might lose my only edge over her,” Maggie said.
“I honestly didn’t think of that,” Ellie replied.
Maggie knew that was true and inwardly repented of her thought that Ellie had some evil ulterior motive. Zack was right. Ellie had a tender heart and did not have an evil bone in her body. Perhaps there was indeed some higher reason behind the whole idea of Tamara learning to sew. Perhaps God’s hand was in it, and Maggie ought to just let it happen and see where it led. Ellie was far more sensitive to godly matters than Maggie.
So Maggie asked her grandmother about it, and she said she’d be happy to teach Tamara.
Maggie had other business to take care of the following afternoon. She was beginning to feel like a juggler she’d once seen at a fair. He had been juggling china dinner plates, five all at once, in the air. Mama had been appalled at how careless
he was being with the fine china, but Maggie had been fascinated and a little disappointed when all the plates didn’t eventually crash to the ground. She wasn’t so certain she would have as good success in her own dealings.
At least her trek to Mrs. Donnelly’s place had been successful. Mrs. Donnelly had not considered the idea of asking Evan to represent Tommy, but it seemed a good suggestion to her. She was growing quite impatient with the Portland lawyer. She immediately sat down and wrote a letter, releasing the Portland man from his contract and including some money in the envelope to pay for any services rendered. Then she asked Maggie to join her when she went into Maintown to pay a visit to Evan.
Evan seemed surprised to see them pull up to the Parker home in the wagon. Maybe he had not believed anything would come of Maggie’s suggestion. But she would not forget about Tommy, no matter what.
As they sat in the parlor, Evan was still reluctant to take the case. “Mrs. Donnelly, I must tell you I am completely inexperienced with murder trials. I never seriously considered taking on criminal cases in a law practice. I leaned more toward business matters, contracts, that sort of thing.”
“Now, Evan,” put in Mrs. Parker, who had joined them, “don’t depreciate yourself. You passed all your courses with flying colors.”
“Then you did learn about criminal law in school?” Mrs. Donnelly asked.
“He most certainly did,” answered Mrs. Parker. “The Boston firm that wants to employ him was very impressed with his credentials. When he returns to Boston to take up that position, I have no doubt he will rise to great heights.”
“You can’t be anxious for him to leave,” commented Mrs. Donnelly.
“I’m not, of course,” Mrs. Parker replied. “But it is a sacrifice I am willing to make for my son’s advancement.”
“Yes . . . well . . . um . . .” Evan said, clearing his throat delicately, obviously unsettled by his mother’s words. “In any case, Mrs. Donnelly, while my marks were good, litigation was not my . . . ah . . . forte.”
“But you know the law?”
“Yes.” There was self-doubt in his response. “I know the theory of law quite well.”
