“You told him that? Why?”
“Because I said yes for the wrong reasons.”
“At least I kept you from one mistake. He wasn’t right for you, and I’m not sorry you’re not marrying him.”
“Joe, stop being an idiot.” She put her hands on his shoulders and stepped so close she could make out the contours of his face, feel his breath. “I told him those things because I made a mistake when I said I’d marry him. I told him no because you made me want more than a way to see the world. You made me want a life with someone I know I love. A life with you.”
“You’d give up Europe for me?”
“I would. I have. If you still want me.”
“You’re sure you’re not deciding too fast?”
Her tone registered disbelief as she backed a half step away. “Are you trying to talk me out of it?”
“I want you to be sure.”
She stood her ground. “I’m sure.”
Joe took her face between his hands, drew her close, and kissed her.
Tension drained away as she felt her body melt against his, and she kissed him back.
Yes. She was absolutely sure.
Chapter 34
A rooster’s crow woke Liddie from the most restful sleep she’d had in weeks. She opened one eye wide enough to see sunlight streaming in her bedroom window. The mingled smells of coffee and bacon hung in the air, overshadowed by the aroma of a pot roast. Her stomach growled. Breakfast had come and gone; dinner was in the making.
Stretching her arms above her head and flexing her ankles and toes, she eased herself fully awake. Memories of the previous night flooded in, bringing a smile to her face. She held up both hands and examined them. She could see nothing, yet she felt his touch as surely as if he were right there, right now.
She’d sat on the front steps with Joe until nearly midnight. After that first kiss, he’d kissed her again. On the cheek. On the back and palm of each hand. Again on the lips. Each kiss was soft and gentle; his lips lingered on her skin for precious seconds. Each of those kisses felt to Liddie like a promise fulfilled. They felt like certainty.
They talked and laughed. Even when they fell silent, it was as though they were still whispering to each other. By the time they parted—she to her childhood bedroom, he to the bedroom at the far end of the hall—they’d worked out a plan. After telling her family at dinner, they’d go to Maquoketa. While he wired a neighbor in Canada, she would tend to her responsibilities at the studio and visit Mrs. Tinker.
With a last luxuriating stretch, she threw back the sheet and got up. She dressed, wondering all the while what it would be like to see Joe in the light of day.
“Look who’s finally up,” Minnie said when Liddie made it to the kitchen. Minnie slid the Dutch oven back into the cookstove and closed the door. She wiped perspiration from her forehead with her apron.
“Morning, Minnie. Morning, Mama. How’s your foot?”
“Not so bad. As long as I keep it up.”
Liddie glanced at the stove. “Is there coffee?”
“Always.” Minnie handed her a cup.
Liddie took her coffee to the table. “What are you making, Mama?”
“Pear crisp. Minnie thought since it’s so hot we could have berry sauce for dessert. I said we have company, we’ll do something special.”
“Mama’s right,” Minnie said. The tight cheerfulness in her tone suggested she gave in regularly in discussions like this.
Liddie suspected this was the kind of tension Vern had mentioned. “Either is nice,” she said neutrally.
Margretta scrutinized Liddie over the top of her glasses. “You were up late last night.”
“Mmm. It was nice listening to the dark.” She sipped at the coffee and changed the subject. “Minnie, you look flushed. Sit down a minute.”
“I’ve got the last load of laundry to hang out,” she replied. “Then I’ll sit with you.”
“You’ve already done laundry? If you had woken me, I’d have helped.”
“I peeked in when we had breakfast on the table. You were dead to the world.”
“At least I’ll help you get it on the line.” She followed Minnie out to the clothesline.
Joe came to the dinner table at noon in a white dress shirt with his long dark hair neatly combed. The sight of him sent blood rushing to Liddie’s cheeks, and she longed to touch him.
“My, don’t you look handsome,” Minnie said as she set a platter heaped with roast beef and a bowl of boiled potatoes on the table.
Vern hooted. “That the way they dress for dinner up north?”
“I’m going into town this afternoon.” He shrugged off Vern’s jesting. “Liddie needs to go, so I’ll take her.”
Liddie caught Joe’s eye. When he winked, she brushed her lips with her fingertips and smiled. It pleased her that he dressed up for this meal.
“It’s good to have the table full. Like it used to be,” Margretta said. “That reminds me. We got a letter from Ohio.”
“Aunt Kate?” Liddie asked. “What did she have to say?”
“She still likes her job.” Margretta tsked. “I suppose it’s a foolish hope, but I keep thinking she’ll change her mind and come back.” She looked at Joe. “Glad you finally got some sense in your head!”
Joe looked at Liddie. She nodded. He cleared his throat. “I am happy to be at this table again,” he began, his voice husky. “I’ve always felt welcome here.” He paused. “I’m glad I had a chance to try Canada, but it feels right to be back in Iowa.”
“’Bout time,” Vern interrupted.
“Margretta, you campaigned for an Iowa girl,” Joe said. “And an Iowa girl is the reason I’m here—and never leaving again.” He stood and came to help Liddie slide her chair back. He took her hand as she stood beside him.
“I’m doing this backward, but this is how it worked.” He looked from Margretta to Vern. “I asked Liddie to be my wife.”
Liddie smiled at him. “And I said yes.”
Margretta waggled a finger at Liddie. “I thought there was something.”
Joe knelt by Margretta’s chair. “I hope you’ll give us your blessing.”
“Of course. Of course.” She held his face between her hands and kissed his forehead.
Minnie rushed to hug Liddie. “You sneak! You never said a word!”
“Well, all right.” Vern shook Joe’s hand like he was pumping water.
When Liddie bent to hug her mother, Margretta whispered, “You did good, honey.”
Surrounded by her family, with Joe by her side, Liddie realized she did know what love was.
Liddie hummed as she laid out slices of bread, then spread butter and horseradish on each piece to put in the picnic basket for her and Joe to take to Maquoketa. Minnie hadn’t stopped grinning at her since dinner. It felt good to have Minnie’s approval. And with Minnie’s baby coming, she had another reason to be happy she was staying in Iowa.
“Six cookies enough?” Minnie opened the tin.
“Plenty.”
“Take a dozen. Joe could use some meat on his bones.”
“You’ve picked up Mama’s ways.” Liddie chuckled as she piled slices of cold roast beef on the bread. “On that point . . .” She lowered her voice. “How are things with you two? Vern made it sound as though Mama pushes you pretty hard.”
“He looks out for me, but Mama and I work it out. This has been her home for so long.”
“It’s your home, too.”
“Yes. It is. She knows that, but it’s hard to let go of what you’ve always done.”
“I suppose.” She set to wrapping the sandwiches in paper. “So what do you think, Minnie? Am I foolish to give up on what I said I always wanted?”
“It’s more important what you think.”
Liddie pursed
her lips, collecting her thoughts. With the sandwiches stacked in the basket, she dusted off her hands. “I’d have had adventures in Europe. I expect I’ll always wonder what that would have been like. But even before Joe showed up, I realized how often I made excuses for Littmann. I imagined making excuses the rest of my life.” Liddie chewed on the side of her lip. “It made my mouth sour.”
As she continued, her eyes twinkled. “When I saw Joe at the fair, when we talked, last night . . .” Liddie savored the memory. “When he kissed me . . . it was like we’d been together forever. And should be. Joe . . .” She stopped, rolling his name around in her mouth, enjoying the sound and the feel and the taste. Yes, she decided, it was possible to taste a name. “Joe loves me. I love him. Whatever we do together will be an adventure.”
“I’m going in with you,” Joe told Liddie when he brought the buggy to a stop across the street from the photography studio.
“I need to do this myself.” She spoke evenly.
They’d been back and forth on this point throughout the ride into town. Joe saw no reason for her to go back to the studio at all. She disagreed. Though she did not look forward to seeing Littmann, she felt obligated to resign the job in person at the least, and beyond that, to finish out the job if he wanted her to.
In an odd twist of emotions, Liddie felt responsible for Littmann. She imagined he would be overwhelmed trying to close the studio and get things ready for Europe by himself. Joe didn’t believe that was her responsibility.
“I don’t trust him,” Joe finally admitted.
“You don’t trust him? Or you don’t trust me?” She caught her breath at the boldness of the question.
Joe’s voice cracked. “I wouldn’t trust myself in his position. If he loves you even close to the way I do, he’ll try to get you back.”
“Oh, Joe,” Liddie whispered. If they had not been sitting on Main Street in an open buggy in broad daylight, she would have kissed him. Instead, she put her hand on his. “You needn’t worry. Mr. Littmann has never been anything but proper. I cannot imagine he will change today.”
“He can make Paris and cars and travel damned appealing.”
“None of that appeals to me as much as you do.”
He searched her face. “All right, then.” He jumped down from the buggy and helped her down. “I’ll be waiting for you here in an hour.”
Littmann sat tilted back in his chair, his feet on the desk, a newspaper open on his lap. When he saw her, a look of satisfaction crossed his face. “You changed your mind. I knew you couldn’t leave this.”
She flushed as she set her shoulders. “No.” She gulped, her mouth as dry as stale bread. “No,” she repeated more firmly. “I came back about my job.”
He leaned forward, the chair legs hitting the floor with a thud. “You think you still have a job?”
She gripped her handbag with both hands. “I don’t presume that I do. But you gave me . . .” She started to say how much the job had meant to her, but she’d said it before.
She started again. “I didn’t want to just not show up. That wouldn’t be right.” Having said that, she relaxed a fraction. “Also, I need to get my things.” She gestured toward her photos, including the two pictures she’d taken of Vern and Minnie’s wedding that were displayed in the studio window.
Littmann pierced her with a look that erased the ease she’d begun to feel. With a mirthless laugh, he waved her toward the display window and went back to reading.
After she removed her pictures, Liddie rearranged the remaining photographs to create a finished display. “I’ll check this from the sidewalk, but I think the arrangement . . .” Her words caught in her throat when she turned and bumped into Littmann, who was standing inches away.
“Was it marriage that threw you off?” he asked. “You have been both assistant and colleague to me. And still could be.”
Liddie met his gaze and did not back away. She felt no ambiguity in her feelings toward him. “I’m here to finish up any work you need me to do.”
He returned to the chair, picked up the newspaper, and spoke as he opened it. “You’re done here. It will be easy enough to find a girl to take your place.”
The comment was so reminiscent of his dismissal of her work for Mrs. Tinker. She felt her cheeks flush, but she swallowed and tilted her chin up. “I’ll be going, then,” she said.
She had opened the door and was halfway out when he said, “You have backbone, Liddie. I’ll give you that.”
“Good-bye, Mr. Littmann.”
“I must say, I did not expect this!” Mrs. Tinker said.
“It was sudden,” Liddie admitted.
“Indeed. A second very sudden decision about marriage. In an exceedingly short period of time.” Mrs. Tinker looked thoughtful as she poured tea. “You’ve mentioned Joe from time to time but didn’t really tell me anything about him. He shows up after being gone for three years and sweeps you off your feet. He must be quite the fellow!”
“He is.” Liddie responded without hesitation. Her mind returned to how she’d thrilled to his touch as they sat on the porch in the dark, how her body melted into his when he wrapped her in his arms, how she’d known without doubt that he was her future. “We can talk about everything. I can see us talking together forever.” She traced the handle of her teacup. “I had questions about Mr. Littmann even if I didn’t admit them. I don’t wonder about Joe. Not at all.”
She paused, reveling in the exuberance that saying those words sent through her chest. “I expect many will think my choice is . . .” She searched again for a way to describe it.
“Outlandish?” Mrs. Tinker offered.
“Yes, outlandish.” She laughed. “But they don’t really know us. Joe and I talk the same language. When he looks at me. When he touches me. I know.”
“Know?”
Liddie smiled. “That I’ve always loved him.”
“Talking can get you through a lot,” Mrs. Tinker acknowledged. “But I am curious. Why marriage at all? You were content with sewing and photography. Before Mr. Littmann brought it up, marriage seemed the furthest thing from your mind. Why not walk away from both man and marriage? Why jump right into another man’s arms?”
Legitimate questions, Liddie knew. And she had no logical answers to give. “Did you ever just know something was right?” she asked.
“Sometimes, things do seem right. But there are often several right paths. Each one different, but each one right in its own way.” Mrs. Tinker shook her head emphatically. “Tsk. I’m lecturing again. I must stop that. Your work as a seamstress will come in handy in your married life. And photography? You may find reasons to pick up a camera again, too.”
“Oh, I hope so.”
“Be determined, and it will happen. I guess you won’t be needing introductions in Paris now, will you?”
There was humor in Mrs. Tinker’s voice, but Liddie felt a pang of regret. “Oh, Mrs. Tinker. I feel as though I’ve let you down.”
“My dear, you have not let me down. My life is mine to live. Your life is yours to live. I only worry that you’re acting hastily in giving up both sewing and photography, work I know you love.” She looked across the room to Liddie’s almost-finished wedding dress, which hung on a form positioned between the sewing machines. The women had poured their combined creativity and love of craft into that dress.
“What do you think about it now?” Mrs. Tinker asked.
“I still love it.” Liddie set her teacup in its saucer and went to the dress. “I wonder what Joe will think?”
“Joe will think you are beautiful no matter what you wear.”
As they chatted, Liddie realized that she felt certain of many things. One was that she would miss her days with Mrs. Tinker.
Chapter 35
Liddie stood hidden from sight in the hallway at the top of the stairs. She’d
come down these same stairs all her life, as a child and young woman. This would be the last time she’d take these steps as Liddie Treadway. When Ida Mae played the wedding march, she would descend, but for now all she could do was wait. She could hear the voices of her family and friends filling the parlor, but she couldn’t see anyone, not even Joe, who was supposed to be at the bottom of the stairs ready to meet her.
For perhaps the fifteenth time, she smoothed the ivory satin at the waist of her dress. A nervous gesture since the dress fit perfectly. This was the most beautiful dress she’d ever owned, the most beautiful dress she’d ever made.
For the past several weeks, ever since Littmann had left for Europe, her mind had focused completely on this new path she had chosen to walk. She never doubted her desire to be with Joe. But she knew she was leaving the track to a career and adventure to do so.
A frisson of fear pulsed in her neck. What if she did regret giving up photography? What if Joe wasn’t at the bottom of the stairs? What if he didn’t really love her?
Then the music began and the voices stilled. She took a deep, calming breath and smiled. She did not want to change her mind. She touched the banister and began to descend. After only two steps, she saw Joe looking up at her.
When her eyes met his, he held out his hand. She could see the love in his eyes and knew that all was well. She held out her hand and went to him.
Liddie observed that the happy moments in her life lingered in her memory, the details softened by time and illuminated with an afterglow of general pleasure. Traumatic moments, however, etched in her subconscious like wounds that heal but leave scars, ensuring she would never forget. She’d remember her wedding night that latter way.
Though she’d grown up on a farm, her father had shielded her from the business of animals mating, and her mother had told her nothing at all. As her wedding night had drawn near, Liddie was too embarrassed to ask. What she knew for certain was that whatever happened between men and women resulted in babies. Memories of the night Papa learned about Amelia’s pregnancy returned. The speed with which her own wedding was happening would surely cause people to wonder if she, too, was pregnant. She remembered her vow never to repeat the hurt Amelia caused their family. Liddie had wanted to bring this up with Joe, but she had not figured out a way.
Go Away Home Page 23
