The Left Behind Bride

by Mahrie G. Reid

  Maggie looked down before beginning. “I married James,” she said, “but he died overseas near the end of the war.” She smiled at Reggie and Lily who were now fighting over the doll. “No children, no other husband. My father died recently and we gave up the store on the island. Ivan, my younger brother, lives with me in my maternal grandmother’s house here in Riverport.”

  “Tea, we need tea,” Violet said and pushed forward on her seat ready to stand.

  Maggie beat her to it and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll do it.” The woman sank back into the chair, obviously relieved. Maggie followed Violet’s instructions and found what she needed.

  “Oh my goodness, a whole decade has passed,” Violet said. “You never remarried?”

  Maggie screwed up her face. “I’d planned to, but he drowned two years ago in the August Gales. We would have been married after that trip.” Sorrow she thought she’d left behind welled up and cloaked her.

  “Oh, Maggie, I’m sorry. That’s terrible.” Violet put a hand on Maggie’s forearm. “How did you find me?” she asked.

  Maggie fetched the teapot and served their tea. “No cookies,” Violet said. “Standing long enough to bake is no longer possible.”

  “Actually,” Maggie started and sat across from her friend. “I didn’t know you were here.” She explained how she’d heard about the housekeeping job. “I do housekeeping,” she said. “It helps pay the bills.”

  “Oh goodness,” Violet said. “Yes, I suppose if you are on your own. I always thought you’d continue with nursing after the war. You could have gone into the regular program at the VG. Some of the others did. And you’d have done well, you were a natural.”

  “I’d have liked to,” Maggie said. “But after Mom died in the Spanish flu epidemic, I stayed home to look after Ivan. He was only four. And my dad and another brother, Harris. Someone had to.” And now Dad and Harris are both gone. She looked around the kitchen. “And here I am, ten years later, knocking about as best I can.” Almost thirty, an unmarried woman, an old maid with limited prospects.

  “But don’t you get a widow’s pension?”

  “I might have if anyone knew we were married. But we never told them. I wasn’t of age and didn’t have my parents’ signatures and James didn’t have his superior officer’s approval.” She shrugged. “We were young and in love. And I think I might not have got the pension anyway. Not as long as I lived with Dad.”

  Violet frowned. “That’s not right.”

  The kitchen door opened and a tall, dark-haired man entered the kitchen. His gaze rested on Maggie and he stopped short.

  “Reg, this is Maggie Conrad, Maggie Benson now,” Violet said. “She’s come about the job.” She shifted in her chair. “You remember her. We were in the VAD together.”

  Reg nodded and advanced on Maggie. “Nice to see you,” he said but did not offer to shake her hand. “So, you’re here for the housekeeping job.” He waved at the boxes on the counters and the packages on the floor. “As you can see we are in need of help.”

  A coolness swept through the kitchen. Maggie stood. A quick glance at Violet showed her a suddenly wary woman.

  Reginald MacDonald eyed Maggie head to toe and the coolness intensified. “Come into the office, Maggie, so I can tell you the details.” He gave his wife a peck on the cheek before heading through the hall and out of sight. He still hadn’t really looked at her.

  “Go on,” Violet said, shooting a frowning glare after him. “He likes to handle any business details.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Hold out for good money,” she whispered. “He can afford it.”

  Startled, Maggie hurried after Reg. What an odd couple. He waited in a room with a desk, two chairs, and empty bookshelves. She sat across from him.

  “I assume you are qualified,” he said, staring at her, “most women by your age are.”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “In addition,” he continued, “the owner at the general store recommended you when I asked about a housekeeper. I need someone to clean this place from top to bottom and help my wife get the furniture sorted. Cooking and helping with the children are also part of the job.”

  He tented his hands, his fingertips together and his elbows on the arms of his chair. “I’ll be in Halifax during the week for work, so if any shopping is needed, that would be your responsibility as well. I’ve arranged an account at the Ritcey and Creaser store.” He stopped, fired one last shot and waited. “Can you do the job?”

  “Yes, I can. And I’d be happy to.” For Violet’s sake. Maggie took a deep breath without being obvious. “What are the wages, Reg?” She deliberately used his first name. “You are asking a lot.” She’d do it for Violet no matter what, but she needed the money, and apparently, he had the money to give. Am I being mercenary?

  “I’ve asked colleagues who employ housekeepers and cooks about the going rate. Since you’ll be doing both for me,” he said, “I am prepared to pay thirty-five cents an hour for no more than a ten-hour day, fewer hours if possible.” He paused. “Provided the work gets done.”

  Maggie’s heart leaped. A decidedly decent wage. And he had offered. She inclined her head. “I can accept that amount,” she said, her voice steady in spite of her inner quivers.

  Reg stood. “It’s settled. Can you start today? There’s a lot to do, and I’d like a decent hot supper before I head back to Halifax this evening. I should have gone yesterday as it is.” He came around the desk and offered her a chilly smile. “My wife is not a great cook at the best of times, and recently she’s been too tired.”

  Maggie looked at him towering over her. She stood, stepped forward and forced him to move back. I don’t like him. Is my smile as chilly as his? “Yes, I can start now.”

  Her words hit his back as he stepped out the door. Assuming I’d say yes, are you? He stopped and looked back, his nose elevated and his eyebrows raised. “Record your hours. And we may have been acquainted, Maggie, but in the future, especially if I have company in the house, you should refer to me as Mister MacDonald.” He made no mention of what she could call his wife.

  * * *

  Maggie helped Violet put the children down for a nap and then sent her for one as well. She stood in the kitchen and turned a full circle. First, put on supper. Second, wipe out all cabinets. Third, sweep the floor. She found beef in the fridge and vegetables on the counter and started a stew. Digging through the boxes, she found cleaning supplies. The dust washed away easily, and she finished in good time. She also unpacked the boxes and organized the cabinets. Lastly, she hand washed the cotton curtains and, after rolling them in towels to get rid of excess water, hung them back up to finish drying. Full indoor plumbing with a drain made the work easier.

  “Oh my goodness.” Violet stood in the hall doorway holding Reggie. “You are a miracle worker.” She inhaled. “It smells cleaner.”

  Maggie laughed. “Not quite a miracle worker. Is Lily awake yet?”

  Violet shook her head and got a glass of water. She offered it to Reggie first and finished it off herself. “What is that wonderful smell?”

  “Beef stew,” Maggie said. “It’s an easy dish to make.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be wonderful.” Violet sighed. “I only managed cold sandwiches for lunch.”

  “Sit,” Maggie ordered, “I’m going to make some baking powder biscuits.”

  “You don’t have to,” Violet said. “I could do it.”

  “It’s no trouble, and you need to stay off your feet. Look at those ankles. They are far too swollen.” She pulled a second chair in front of Violet. “Put your feet up.” She snatched up Reggie and plunked him under the table with some toys. “All you need to do is watch Reggie.”

  An hour later she turned to find her employer staring into the room. Lily stood in her playpen babbling at her brother and Reggie sat on the floor talking to her as they passed toys back and forth. Violet held a stack of plates and the cutlery for setting the table.


  “Good day, Mister MacDonald. You are just in time for dinner.”

  The man set a suitcase by the back door and, looking around, inhaled deeply. “You obviously know your way around the kitchen.” He looked at his wife. “You could learn from this woman.” His tone fell short of teasing.

  Maggie’s ire rose in her throat. “With no children underfoot and no third one on the way, it is easier.” She caught the steely glimmer in his eyes and turned to the range, humming. She couldn’t back talk him directly but she’d be pickled if she’d say nothing.

  Violet set places for five. Maggie upended a box on a chair and set Reggie on it, tying him to the chair back with an apron. She held Lily. “I’ll ask around for a high chair,” she said and gave Lily half a biscuit.

  “Buy one at the store,” Reg said abruptly. “I don’t need hand-me-downs in my house.”

  Maggie inclined her head. She knew Robie Creaser would order one if she asked, but she also knew that Aunt Maude had one that looked like new. “I am not sure they carry baby furniture,” she said and spooned gravy and mashed potato into Lily. Reggie tackled cut carrots and bits of meat on his own. She’d handle it. If the man ever mentioned it again, she’d be shocked.

  The meal progressed with minimal conversation. Reg said little about the food, but he cleaned his plate and asked for more. When that had disappeared, he drained his teacup and stood. “I’ll be back Friday night,” he said to the space between Maggie and Violet. “And I arranged for more furniture to be delivered later this week.”

  He tousled Reggie’s hair and chucked Lily’s chin. “Behave for your mother, children, or you’ll have Maggie to deal with.”

  Maggie bit her tongue. She didn’t need him using her as a punishment factor. However, by the time he came back, the children would know exactly where she stood in their lives. And it wasn’t behind them with a wooden spoon.

  Violet walked her husband to the back door. He picked up his case, kissed her on the cheek and left. She held the door open and waited until his car engine started. Returning to the table, she sat and heaved a huge sigh. “It’s always calmer when he’s away,” she said and finished the stew she’d only picked at earlier. “He can be so tense.”

  By seven, the dishes were done, the children bathed and in bed and Maggie was ready to head home. “Will you be okay here by yourself?” she asked.

  Violet, her hands under her belly and gray circles under her eyes, nodded. “I have some magazines. I’ll get ready for bed and crawl in with one.” She hugged Maggie. “I’ll be asleep before you reach home most likely.”

  Maggie hugged her back and Violet hung on. “You are an answer to a prayer,” she whispered before pulling away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Most certainly,” Maggie said. “We’ll have this place ship-shape in no time.” I will at least. This woman needs to take it easy. She stepped out the back door and pulled it shut. Looking up, she glimpsed the moon rising. Ivan will just be getting home. And JM didn’t plan to be home for dinner. She set out at a brisk pace. At least now, Ivan and I are both working. She shot a quick look back at the big house. The main floor lights were already out. I wonder how long they’ll stay. Oh goodness. I forgot to ask when the baby is due.

  * * *

  “The baby is due in September,” Violet said. “That’s why we are here now. Reg thought a holiday would be nice for us before we have another child.” She sighed. “But he’ll never stay long enough to do anything with the children, and I am in no shape to take them to the beach.”

  “We’ll see what we can do about the beach,” Maggie said and wiped dead flies off the window sill. “My cousin, Eloise, takes her younger sister and we could all go.” She dunked the rag in the water and squeezed out the excess. “After all, part of my duties is caring for the children, and I think the beach counts.” She cleaned the window sills and started on the baseboards. “Once we get the house sorted and that furniture gets here, we’ll be able to enjoy some walks and maybe a picnic or two.”

  “That would be great,” Violet said. Sitting on the floor, her back against the wall, she amused Lily with a puppet. Reggie ran a car up his mother’s leg. “Would you like to go to the beach?” she asked him.

  “Beash,” he said. “Vroom.” And he pushed the car up her arm. The women laughed.

  By the end of the week, the house sparkled from top to bottom. Maggie felt the physical work in every muscle. However, getting most of the cleaning done without having to move furniture around was a bonus. A truck arrived Friday, mid-morning, and disgorged a sofa and chairs, end tables, and bedroom dressers plus an assortment of lamps. The men obligingly placed the furniture and tipping their hats to Maggie and Violet, went on their way.

  Violet stood and surveyed the living room. “You’re right,” she said. “We do need a central rug in here. But other than that, it’s good.”

  Reggie toddled in beside her. “Beash?” he said and pulled on her skirt. Although he’d never seen a beach, he’d asked every day since she first mentioned it.

  Maggie scooped him up. “Yes, now the beach.” She started toward the kitchen. She tickled Reggie. “Would you like a picnic?” she asked.

  “Pinic,” he said. “Beash and pinic.”

  She glanced at Violet. “Are you okay to walk? We can stop by my aunt’s place and get the stroller for Lily. She still has one.” Maggie had seen it when she’d picked up the high chair. “And we’ll see if Eloise and Lucy can come with us.”

  “I can do it,” Violet said. “It’ll be lovely to get outside and away from the house.”

  The next three weeks passed quickly with outings and long conversations. The money Mr. MacDonald paid Maggie allowed her to make the next payment of her father’s loan. And with only light cleaning and meals to tend to, Maggie made time to take the children to the beach often. They’d visited Hirtles Beach and Sand Dollar Beach. Reggie loved it. Lily flipped sand off the end of a spoon endlessly, laughing when it hit her mother’s legs.

  Maggie barely saw Ivan. Between his fishing with Charlie Roberts and making deliveries with Eugene, he only came home to sleep. JM was off to Cape Breton. At the end of the third week, Maggie arrived home at dusk to find JM’s car in the yard.

  “Hey there,” he greeted her in the kitchen. “How was your day?”

  The question startled her. Maggie halted. Although her father had been caring in his fatherly way, she’d couldn’t recall him, or Ivan, ever asking her about her day. Maybe how an event was, like Aunt Maude’s dinners, but never her day.

  “Good,” she said, “quite good.” She went to her room. When she returned, she’d recovered from the surprise question. “How was your trip?” she asked JM.

  “Productive,” he said and transferred food from the stove to a plate. He turned and held it out. “Did you have supper? I made lots just in case.”

  She looked at him. He made supper, just in case, for me. “Thanks, yes, I ate with Violet and the children. I’ll just make a cup of tea.”

  “Already done,” JM said and pointed at the table.

  She looked and sure enough, there sat the teapot resplendent in its cozy. A mug sat waiting at each end of the table. “Oh.” She looked from the teapot to JM who now sat at the table.

  He waved a hand. “Join me, have a cuppa and tell me what you’ve been doing.”

  “I do believe I will.” She poured her tea and grinned at JM. “Welcome back,” she said. “Now that you’re here, I’ll plan more meals.”

  He shook his head. “No need. I’ll feed myself, and Ivan if he shows up. And I may have to leave again in a few days.”

  Maggie stared at him. He really didn’t mind doing what most men would deem to be woman’s work. And he was leaving again. “Are you ever going to settle and stay?” she asked, keeping her voice teasing.

  “I’ll have to, won’t I, once school starts. Come on, then. Tell me about your job. Are your bosses good to work for? Are the children well behaved? What have you been doing?” />
  Maggie laughed. He really is unusual. She did as asked and filled him in on Violet, the children, Reg and the trips to the beach. “I am enjoying the job and the opportunity to reconnect with an old friend.”

  “It sounds as if she reminds you of better days.”

  Maggie peered into her empty cup. “I suppose. In some ways, it was better.”

  “But you liked your life in the VAD?”

  She shrugged. “Yes. But the war years were a step out of time, weren’t they.”

  He nodded. “In a lot of ways.” He poured more tea for both of them. “How long are they staying?”

  “Two more weeks.” Two more weeks of earning and one more payment to the bank. Two more weeks of beach trips and fun with Violet and the children. Her stomach lurched. And then what? How will I get more money without a job?

  The outside door slammed shut and Ivan roared in. “Hey, JM, you’re back. Great to see you. I’ve been driving,” he said all in a rush, “Eugene lets me drive so I get to practice.” He shook hands with JM and slapped him on the shoulder. “Are you here for good?”

  A man’s greeting. No more little boy. Wistful, Maggie stood and gave Ivan a hug.

  “Not yet,” JM said. “And then I’ll be off again.” He pointed at a chair. “Sit. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

  Ivan joined them and they talked about ships and sails and sealing wax as Lewis Carroll would say. The evening wound down on laughter and Ivan stood.

  “Morning comes early,” he said. “I’m for bed. See you two tomorrow.” He bent and kissed Maggie on the cheek. “Night, Sis.” And he marched out leaving her with JM.

  JM looked at the clock. “I think he has the right idea. It was a long drive back here.” He stretched and yawned. He grinned at her and came around the table. And like Ivan, he kissed her on the cheek. “Night, Maggie. Sweet dreams.” He ran his hand down her cheek and left.