“Girls,” Aunt Maude said, shooting a sharp look at Eloise and Maggie. “Clear the table, please. Gentlemen, I’m sure you have room for tea and pie.”
“And a drop of port and a cigar later,” Uncle Henry said.
“Henry.” Maude glared at her husband.
“Dear dyin’ Moses, Maude. A drop of port hardly contravenes the prohibition rules. And we can step into the evening air for a cigar. We won’t stink up your precious draperies.”
Maude sniffed her habitual sniff and showed her pickle mouth look. But she backed off and fetched dessert plates.
Maggie and Eloise collected the used dishes and beat a hasty retreat to the pantry.
At the table, Aubrey stretched back. “An excellent meal, Mrs. Conrad. I’ll be hard pressed to add pie to my innards.” He grinned. “But I’ll give it a try. If all women cook as well as you do, I should find myself a wife.” He winked at Garth who looked down.
Aubrey’s cavalier attitude had Maggie looking over. Sorrow etched Garth’s face. His wife had died in childbirth the winter before. Surely Aubrey knew that. Garth looked up and caught Maggie’s gaze. He nodded slightly, acknowledging her support.
“You may be right,” Aunt Maude said, “a good wife can be the making of a man.” Her tones mellowed to almost coaxing. “There are available women in the area, gentlemen. You should look around. The one for you might be right under your nose.”
In the pantry, Maggie shared a look with Eloise. “Not really subtle, is she?” Her laughter threatened to escape.
Eloise’s shoulders shook, and she covered her mouth. “I don’t know whether to be amused or embarrassed.”
“Girls, hurry along now. We need that tea and pie.” Her mother’s sharp-edged prompt shot in from the main kitchen.
“Parade time,” Eloise said. “Put a little sashay in it, cousin.” She grabbed the oven mitts and headed toward the stove to get the teapot.
I feel like a prize cow up for auction. Maggie, her laughter still bubbling, schooled her face in a serious pose and picked up the pie. Both the men were polite, decent-looking and well-employed. But did they fit the shopping list given her at the quilting bee? Neither of the men appeared humorous. That rules out laughter. At least with Aubrey, in spite of his efforts to appear funny. Garth might still be grieving. He’d been more easy going and quick to laugh when they were in school.
Aubrey’s family lived elsewhere so she had no guide on how he treated his mother. But she suspected he had a hard edge to him that she wouldn’t like.
Garth’s mother lived with him and by all accounts, seemed happy. However, he had three children and fished for a living. She recalled Alma Mae’s comment about marrying a man who worked on the land.
Aubrey would be gone for a good part of any year with the merchant fleet. Do I want a man who isn’t around? She chuckled mentally. That could be a positive in some cases.
She did prefer a man who wasn’t susceptible to death at sea. What else do you expect to find in Riverport? The sea is the way of life. She cut the pie and slid slice after slice onto plates. Maybe I should go to Halifax and hope to meet someone not connected to sailing. By the time she settled to eat her pie, the men were almost done. If I truly wanted a husband, I might go. But I’m not sure a husband is what I want.
Aunt Maude fiddled with her fork. “You are going to have competition, gentlemen.” She lifted her chin slightly and one eyebrow more noticeably. “They’ve hired a man to teach the seniors at the school, and he is single.” She glanced at Maggie and Garth. “He is renting a room from Maggie.”
Uncle Henry glared at her. “Maude, sometimes you downright cramp me.”
Maggie stared at her plate, her face immobile. He’s not the only one she annoys.
Garth busied himself with his pie.
Aubrey guffawed and avoided looking at Maggie or Eloise.
They know darn well what Maude is up to. Maggie dropped her fork and it clattered against the plate. She is such a busybody. Always stirring the gossip. Pushing things on people.
“Are you okay, dear?” her aunt asked.
“I’m fine.” Maggie picked up the fork. “Just tired. It’s been a long week.” And I’m without work and facing debt, caught between a rock and a hard place. “I’ll help with the dishes, Eloise, but then I have to go.” I’ve had as much of Maude’s matchmaking as I can take.
“If you must,” Aunt Maude said, obviously a bit miffed. She probably had an evening of chatting with the prospective husbands in mind.
Eloise and Maggie collected the dishes and did the washing up. “She really is insufferable at times,” Eloise said for Maggie’s ears only. They finished and Eloise fetched Maggie’s shawl.
Aunt Maude stood with Maggie. “Maybe one of the gentlemen should see you home,” she said, her voice elevated so it carried to the men standing outside with their cigars.
She just doesn’t give up. Maggie stared straight ahead. “No thanks. I’ll be fine.” She burst into the cool evening air, nodded at the men and kept going. The mist had settled in as usual and it feathered against her face, cooling her heated skin.
Maybe I should have taken Mister MacDonald’s offer. At least then I’d be away from Aunt Maude’s pointed matchmaking.
She hiked down the hill and slowed as she approached her own place. Daisy loped along the edge of the lane and finding Maggie, snuffled her hand before falling into step with her. “You’re good company, Daisy. Maybe I’ll just stick with you.” Her earlier thoughts reappeared and awareness hit her. Everything the two men at supper don’t have, JM does.
Clouds of mist settled on the river like cotton batten. Lights from the ships in port twinkled, star-bursts through the haze. I live in a beautiful location. Am I crazy? I’ve had two job possibilities. The teaching job that went to a man. The housekeeping job I rejected. Now, what do I do? By the time she reached her own front door, she had an answer. Not a good one, but one that would get her through the night. Tomorrow is a new day. Try again.
* * *
Although Maggie had pleaded tiredness to escape Aunt Maude’s kitchen, the fresh air and walk cleared her cobwebs and once in her own home, sleep eluded her. No car in the backyard and no boots in the summer kitchen. Except for Daisy, she had the house to herself. She got into bed and tried to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, they popped open seconds later, propelled by the thoughts in her head.
This is useless. She donned a robe and put the kettle on for hot cocoa. Pulling out the crossword book JM had brought from Halifax, she concentrated on clues until the kettle boiled. With her hands around the mug of hot cocoa, she stared into space. I’ve tried the fish plant. I worked as a housekeeper and nanny. I applied for the teaching position. What’s left on my list?
She gulped half of the hot drink. I need to be busy. She glanced around. No dirty dishes. Too late to try and dust or clean. And I’m out of wool for knitting. If only I had my father’s clothing, I could start to pick it apart for the fabric. Or if I had brought over more books, I could read.
Any of those tasks would occupy and steady her mind. She had no outside work for at least the next few days. I need to go to the old house and bring over more things. Tomorrow, as soon as she said goodbye to Violet and the children, she’d head for the island. Besides, she hadn’t seen Alma Mae in weeks. Time for a visit and a check-up on the store.
The door on the summer kitchen creaked open. She hadn’t heard JM’s car pull in, it must be Ivan. As if he could sneak in without her hearing. Before he made it to the main kitchen, she called out. “Good evening. Would you like some hot cocoa? The kettle’s hot.”
He gave up the silent sneaking. “That’d be great,” he said, sticking his head around the door jam. “That mist out there is downright wet.” He moved to the table and pulled off his cap. “How did it go at Uncle Henry’s?” he asked.
She paused in the middle of making the paste of cocoa and milk. He called it Uncle Henry’s place. She called it Aunt Maude’s.
An interesting division of labels.
She added hot water to the mix. “Here you go,” she said and set the steaming mug in front of him. “Dinner at Aunt Maude’s was, shall we say, interesting.” If Ivan noticed the change in ownership, he didn’t say anything.
“In what way?” He took a sip of the cocoa. “Oh crap, that’s hot.”
“Mind your language,” she said. “First of all, Aunt Maude had two single men lined up. I’m not sure who she wants to marry off first, me or Eloise.”
Ivan laughed and ducked as she pretended to swat him. “Who were they?”
When she’d filled him in on the details, he nodded. “Both good men, so I hear.”
“Pshaw. No sense of humor,” she said. “And I hear Garth asked you to join his crew.”
Ivan raised one shoulder. “He did. But I’d promised you I wouldn’t go off-shore fishing, so I turned him down.”
“Yes. And I wanted to say thank you for not going to sea.”
Ivan fiddled with his mug. “Ah, hum. Yes. I’m now making money with Eugene.” He pulled out a wad of bills. “This is enough for the next payment and a bit more on Dad’s loan.”
“Where did you get this much money?” She looked from the money to Ivan.
He blew on the hot liquid and licked his lips. “Ah, Eugene got a good opportunity for a man and I helped. He paid us more than we asked.” He paused and stared at the table. “And he wants us to work for him again. Enough to really help with the loan.”
He’s hiding something. “I see.” Who pays that kind of cash? A possibility took hold. “And what were you hauling? Was it legal?”
She leaned forward and tugged on his mug to get his attention. Ivan glanced up briefly and went back to playing with his mug. “Um, just stuff that needed to go to different places.”
Maggie put a hint of iron in her voice and narrowed her eyes. “What stuff?”
He took a deep breath and finally looked at her. “Maggie, don’t make me tell you. You really don’t want to know.”
Maggie’s brain ricocheted off options and settled where she had feared. “Ah,” she said. “That.” Those boys are hauling booze. Finished her hot chocolate, she stared at him. She readied herself to give him a blast, to tell him the dangers, to tell him to stop.
She took a breath.
The door on the summer kitchen creaked.
JM. Maggie let her breath whoosh out. “This isn’t finished,” she said to Ivan and returned to a safer conversation. “And, it’s good you’re going back to school.”
“About that,” Ivan said. “I don’t really want to go back.”
She held back the rush of objections crowding to spill out. “Why not?” She should hear him out. She’d be better armed for an argument if she knew what his reasons were.
“I’m not a child. I’m the biggest in the room and the oldest. I’m bored. Dad had us reading so early and always talked about world affairs and history. I know most of what we’re learning.”
JM came in from the summer kitchen. “Evening.”
“Water’s hot. Do you want cocoa?” Maggie asked, using the interruption to marshal her thoughts.
He nodded. “I can get it.”
Ivan continued pitching his view. “And I can do my math faster than anyone else, even the ones in Grade Eleven. Of course, most of them are girls.”
She pointed a finger at him. “Don’t knock how smart girls are.”
JM whistled. “Don’t misjudge the ladies, boyo. Your sister is a smart one.” He didn’t turn from the counter to look at Ivan. “And there are more like her in the world.”
Maggie put out a hand. “Ivan, you know Dad always hoped you would go to university. He wanted you to be a lawyer or a doctor.”
Ivan pulled his arms off the table and crossed them, pulling away from her. “Dad wanted that. You wanted that for yourself. I’ve never wanted it. I want to work. I’d like to get on the ships and take my papers. And I can’t do that sitting in that stuffy schoolroom.”
Oh dear. If he wouldn’t go on to university, she couldn’t come up with a solid reason why he shouldn’t leave school. Other than she didn’t want him going to sea. That she was afraid she’d lose him, too.
“Besides,” Ivan continued. “Look where book learning got Dad. Keeping a store that barely supported us and died leaving us in debt.”
Maggie shot a glance at JM’s back and glared at Ivan. He shouldn’t be exposing their problems in front of others. She pressed her lips together and thought before answering. Long minutes ticked by. Over by the stove, JM finished stirring his hot cocoa and turned to lean against the counter.
Finally, Maggie spoke up. “You truly want to go to sea?" she asked. “It’s not just about money, or thinking you should take care of me now that Dad’s gone?”
Ivan stood, his feet apart in a fighter’s stance, his chin up. “I want to go to sea. Bottom line. Anything else would be a bonus, but not a reason.”
She stared at him, seeing the man emerging from the boy. How could she pursue her dreams, whatever they were, and not let him have his?
Ivan shoved in his chair. “That’s it. Goodnight.” And he stomped out.
JM joined Maggie. He shook his head. “It’s not easy to be Ivan’s age. It’s a time of choices for sure.” He slid a finger along one side of his nose and winked. “I think he’ll be okay. I have it on good authority he’s been well-raised.”
“Thank you,” Maggie said and managed a smile. “I hope you’re right.” JM’s words did help. But would he have said them if he knew Ivan had chosen bootlegging?
Chapter Eleven
And now from the skies there comes a sprite
To dance and sing for the coming night.
To laugh with the wind, and to croon with the waves
To fill your soul with the joy it craves.
“Write to me,” she said to Violet. “I’ll be waiting to find out about the baby.”
“I certainly will,” Violet reassured her. “And you think about nursing. The program at the VG would be perfect for you.”
Excitement with a dollop of anxiety returned. I do have the choice. I could at least ask about the program. Anxiety won and the idea slid away.
“When I write,” Violet said, “I’ll try and send some information about the program at the VG.” She tied a long, gauze scarf over her hat and got in beside Reg. She checked on the children in the backseat and once more waved to Maggie. She said something to Reggie and he stopped his pretended steering to blow Maggie a kiss. She reciprocated. I am going to miss them.
The car edged down the lane, past her house and onto the road. Maggie watched until they were out of sight. Being in charge and taking care of people is actually fun. And the opportunity to talk about her nursing days had awakened old dreams. But they were just that, dreams.
For quite a bit longer, she stood enjoying the view. A breeze stirred slightly, waking her from her dazed thoughts. She tucked the magazines Violet had left her under her arm and started toward home. Too bad Ivan worked today. I could use his help. She wouldn’t be able to bring everything she liked, but she’d manage enough. She passed the bridge and looked toward the house. Ivan leaned against the front entry.
“Aren’t you working today?”
“We finished early.” He looked down and scuffed his toe in the dirt. “I’m sorry about last night. But I’ve been wanting to tell you how I really felt for days now.” He looked up. “Ever since Dad died, things seem more important, more immediate.”
“You’re growing up,” she said. “Life changes when you put your own two feet under you.” She patted his arm. “It’s okay. I get too focused. And I forget you aren’t a little boy anymore.”
“I’ve grown a lot.” He nudged her with his shoulder and stuck out his arm showing how much of his wrist stuck out from under the cuff. “And don’t you forget it.” They both laughed
“Are you sure you don’t want to work in Halifax? I thought you liked the job.”
“But what are you going to do? There aren’t many jobs for women. Unless you want to get married again. Are you looking for a husband?” A muscle jerked in his jaw, betraying the humor behind the question.
A vision of JM kissing her forehead flashed through her. “Bite your tongue. If one comes along, fine. But I am not hunting one down.”
“You won’t have to. Aunt Maude is doing that for you.”
She poked his shoulder. “I want to get more items from the old house. Can you go with me?”
“Sure thing. Let’s go.” Ivan crossed the road and headed to the dock behind the fishery.
He untied their skiff and helped her in. “But what do you want to do?” he asked.
Nursing. But even as the word burst in her head, she didn’t say so. The reasons she’d given Violet were true. She’d missed the boat on that one. “I’m not sure yet,” she said. “But I’ll give it a year and if nothing works out, I’ll go and be an old maid housekeeper.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Ivan said and cast off. “Now, how much do you want to bring back? I’d like a few things, too. Especially Dad’s books on navigation. Should we pick up the barge?” He started the small outboard motor.
“Where did you get the motor?” Maggie asked. If he’d bought that, plus given her the money he had, the unnamed hauling must be more than she thought.
“It’s Eugene’s,” Ivan said. “His boat has a leak, so I’m using it.” He didn’t look at her.
Another taboo topic.
“I want my sewing machine, books, and the rest of our clothing.” Ivan turned the boat toward Mr. Creaser’s barge. He obtained permission to use it and in jig time he had it hooked up and they were on their way.
The Left Behind Bride Page 11
