by Jane Steen
We all waited as the two men removed a small gold object from the boxes. “What is it?” Donny asked.
“It’s a watch fob.” Sarah skipped back to stand beside Donny. “You’ll have to save it till you have a watch, of course, but when you have one, you hang it from the chain. But it’s even better than that—it’s a seal for sealing letters, see? When you push it into the wax, you get a nice circle with a horse in the middle. I chose a horse for you because you like horses. Look—it’s prancing.”
“I never thought I’d own anything made of gold.” Donny held the fob gingerly between thumb and finger, staring at it intently.
“It’s from all of us, but I chose it.” Sarah bounced on her toes. “The stone’s called an agate—isn’t it pretty?” She went back to Teddy again, bright ringlets bouncing. “Yours has writing, did you notice?”
“Forget Me Not.” Teddy smiled in the way he reserved for Sarah alone these days.
“And a flower, which I suppose is a forget-me-not, although I guess I’ve never seen one.” Sarah took the gold fob out of Teddy’s hand and held it up, squinting at the reversed writing. “Goodness, Miss Baker, maybe you’re right and I do need spectacles. I’ve noticed you already have a fob on your watch chain, Teddy, but gentlemen can have more than one. Just promise me you won’t give it away to a poor person, won’t you? And that you’ll never ever forget us and you’ll come to our house a lot, even though you’re twenty now, and that’s awfully old, and perhaps you’ll get married soon.”
“I have no intention of doing anything of the kind,” Teddy said amid our laughter. “May I kiss you in thanks? I guess you’re much too big to swing up onto my shoulder now. How did you get to be so grown-up so fast, Sarah? I’ve been thinking of you as a little girl, but here you are now, nine years old and looking like a young lady.”
Sarah presented her cheek, and he kissed it. Something caught in my throat. For a moment, I saw myself and Martin in memory, he twenty and I nine—the difference in age between us was the same as that between Teddy and Sarah. Had he teased me about growing up too? Sarah was positively glowing with pleasure at Teddy’s compliment. Supposing, one day, she and Teddy . . .
No, I was not going to turn into one of those matchmaking women. My daughter was only nine. I soon forgot my moment of maternal solicitude as Teddy took hold of Sarah’s hand, much as Donny had done.
“I won’t be able to come to your house again for quite a long while, as it happens,” he said. “I’m leaving Chicago soon—it’s not the best moment to announce it, I suppose, but I’m afraid of running out of time and having to send a letter instead. Better to break the news while we’re all together, and I can tell you how much I’ll miss you all.”
He smiled briefly and chucked Sarah under the chin; her face had fallen when he’d spoken of leaving.
“Don’t look glum, Sarah. Be happy for your friend. I’ll only be gone a year or two, and that’s the blink of an eye in the space of a lifetime. I’m going back to Ireland—I’ve been wanting to ever since I traveled to Europe with you two years ago. And then perhaps my friends and I will travel some more. I’ve been corresponding with the fellows I worked with, and we’ve got plenty of ideas.” He grinned at Martin. “I got a taste for Europe, and there’s a lot of good work to be done there. Three of us are heading to Boston in a few days to find our way onto an early sailing. One of the men has a maiden aunt there who’ll give us a room while we’re waiting.”
Martin frowned. “And what of your plans to become a pastor? I thought you were keen to head back to the Eternal Life Seminary when you had the chance. Wandering around Europe won’t get you a church.”
Teddy shrugged. “The world will be my church, sir, for a while. I have money saved up in the bank for when I return to America. God will guide my footsteps while I’m overseas, just like he did when I was in Ireland.”
Martin nodded but said nothing as the others chimed in with questions and comments. I too was silent, studying Sarah’s face as she stood with one hand on Teddy’s shoulder. She seemed more interested than upset—after all, traveling to Europe was not an unknown experience for her, and she still had a child’s trust in an adult’s ability to solve all problems. Nobody thought to ask the one question that was on my mind.
At a quiet word from Martin, Teddy stayed on after Donny and Miss Baker had left and Sarah and Tess had retired upstairs. We were all so full of food that—with the undoubted exception of Martin—nobody would be able to eat much supper. How on earth did the English get through their days if they stopped for sandwiches and cakes every afternoon?
With a prayer of gratitude that I could leave the clearing up to somebody else, I turned my back on the crumb-strewn parlor and led the way to the library, shivering a little as I caught glimpses of the piles of snow outside the window. A Chicago winter always seemed at its worst in February.
“That was quite an announcement, Teddy,” Martin commented as we closed the door behind us. “So what about Thea? That’s what Nell’s been dying to ask. By the time you leave for Europe, she’ll have been in Wisconsin for what, six months? All of fall and winter. How does she feel about you leaving?”
“I don’t know.” Teddy’s expression hardened. “Just before Christmas I received a letter from Mrs. Galloway explaining that Thea did not want to correspond with me or receive visits from me anymore.” He looked at me. “She hasn’t answered your letters either, has she?”
“No, she hasn’t,” I admitted. There had also been no response to the parcel of fabrics and trimmings I’d sent to Thea for Christmas, thinking she would need something new to wear. It bothered me not to know if she’d even received it. I wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or worried, truth be told.
“Mrs. Galloway said she’s settled in well,” Teddy continued. “She hinted that Thea has shown a liking for her older son, Jacob, who came to build a house on their land after his wife died. He has two small children of whom Thea’s quite fond.”
I frowned. It seemed unlikely to me that prickly Thea would conceive a fondness for any children, let alone another woman’s. “Do you trust these Galloway people?” I asked.
“Of course.” An expression I couldn’t read flitted across Teddy’s face. “Mrs. Galloway is a true saint. She says she’ll do everything she can to soften Thea’s heart toward us all. She tells me it’s only natural that Thea is bitter about what happened, but the peace and quiet of their land is gradually soothing her. When she’s twenty-one, she can choose what she does—but in the meantime she’s safe from the corruption of Chicago.”
I pursed my lips. And the corruption of the Rutherfords? I wondered. But I wasn’t about to argue with Teddy about the superior virtues of the life we’d helped shape for Thea. In retrospect, I wasn’t even sure myself how we’d gone from providing a home for a child to somehow allowing her to run wild behind our backs. Perhaps we were just complete fools, Martin and I; smart at selling clothes but lacking in understanding in other important areas.
“Would you give the Galloways our address?” I asked. “In case there’s trouble.”
Teddy nodded. “I will.” He sighed. “But I wish—I beg—that you’d leave well alone, Mrs. Rutherford. I will enclose a letter telling Thea she can always write to you if she needs anything—is that right?”
Martin shrugged. “Obviously.”
“I knew I could depend on you. But please—unless she asks you to visit, could you wait another six months before seeing her? Mrs. Galloway advises that since Thea doesn’t want to hear from me, I should give her some time to think before turning up on her doorstep. I suppose the same should apply to you.”
“A whole year—” I began, but Teddy held up a hand to interrupt me.
“It’s not that long, as I told Sarah. Not compared to a lifetime. And for me, going to Europe makes it easier. I will pray unceasingly that when I come back, she’ll be settled, and we’ll be friends again. After all, she’ll be eighteen before long and I’m sure time will s
mooth her into a fine little woman.”
“There you are.”
We all turned at the sound of Sarah’s clear voice as she entered the library.
“Teddy, you’re still here!” she exclaimed. “I’m so glad. I didn’t get to tell you nearly enough things because I was being polite and not chattering all the time.” She rolled her eyes at me in a very droll fashion. “Did I say that I’m going to Lake Forest next week?”
She settled herself daintily on her favorite window seat—not, I noticed, curling her legs under her as she usually did. I also saw that, for a miracle, she was still wearing the smart heeled pumps we had bought to go with the dress. Her white silk stockings might survive the day without holes.
“You hadn’t favored me with that piece of information,” Teddy said. “Are you going too, Mrs. Rutherford?”
Sarah opened her mouth to interrupt and then closed it, clearly mindful of her manners. I grinned. “I’ll let Sarah explain. She’s been far too quiet this afternoon.”
“I’m going on my own.” Even with the light from the window behind her, I could discern the pleased expression on Sarah’s face. “At least Miss Baker’s going to take me down there on the train because it’s too icy for horses, but I’ll be staying with the Ogilvies on my own. Junie Ogilvie’s my friend, and she has three brothers and three sisters, and we’re going to have sleigh rides and go skating and ice fishing. Teddy, may I write to you in Europe? And can you write me back?”
Teddy frowned a little, but then his brow cleared. “I don’t know where I’m going to be, that’s the trouble—but I know where you’ll be.” He rose to his feet and went to Sarah, squatting down so she didn’t have to crane her neck to see his face. “Here’s a deal. I’ll write you whenever I can, and if I have a fixed address or can find a convenient post office, I’ll tell you where to send a letter so I can have your news.” He twisted round, positioning himself on one knee so he could see me and Martin. “That is, ma’am, sir, if you don’t mind me corresponding with your daughter.”
Martin and I looked at one another, and I let Martin speak. “Of course not,” he said, “although I expect Sarah to let us know what’s in her letters now that she’s begun to have correspondents.”
“So make them exciting letters, Teddy.” Sarah patted Teddy on the shoulder as she rose to her feet. “I’m going to have exciting things to tell you, I’m sure. I didn’t get a chance to tell you about my dancing lessons either—can you dance?”
“I don’t dance.” Mercifully, Teddy did not elaborate, and Sarah was too eager to speak after her polite reticence of the tea party, where she had played the hostess’s part of drawing conversation out of others rather than dominating it herself.
“I’m learning dancing and deportment.” She executed some waltz steps, counting, “One two three, one two three,” before breaking off with her next piece of news. “And I’m probably going to have to wear spectacles for reading because I’m getting headaches from reading so much.” She wrinkled her nose. “I think Mama needs spectacles too because sometimes she squints, but she says she doesn’t.”
“You’ll be a young lady when I see you again, then.” Teddy’s smile was a little rueful. “It’s dawning on me how much I’ll be missing in Chicago when I’m gone. Don’t forget me, will you?”
“Never.” Sarah twirled, her mind still on dancing. “We’re friends for ever and ever.”
46
Wives and mothers
“Me do carry Baby.”
Mabel Fletcher stood in the middle of the Fletchers’ parlor, eyeing her mother with a mutinous expression. The bright blue eyes that so resembled Elizabeth’s were rounded into a rebellious glare. One chubby hand curled into a fist, resting on her waist, while she brandished the other in the air as if Elizabeth were the small child who had to be corrected over a misdemeanor.
“Me is two.” She held up a pair of fingers in illustration. It was the day of her birthday, and we had all been teaching her how to show her age. “Me can carry Wosa.” She approached the baby’s crib, looking hopeful.
“You’re so big and strong.” Sarah’s skinny legs folded easily under her as she lowered herself to the rug. She had grown another inch since she had returned from her stay in Lake Forest, although she was still not tall for her age. She picked up the large doll Mabel had dropped in her eagerness to impress upon her mother that it was the live doll, four-month-old Rosa, that she was interested in. “Look, Mama, this doll can sit down properly—what a clever thing! She has joints in her arms and legs.”
She worked the doll into a sitting position, ignoring Mabel, whose face turned crimson as her grandmother scooped the baby out of her crib and took her out of the room. It was a beautiful doll—a gift from her doting grandfather, who had ordered it from Paris, and to my mind far too grand for such a small girl. With its blue glass eyes and blond horsehair curls, dressed in the very latest Paris fashion for children, it looked eerily lifelike perched on Sarah’s knee.
Mabel’s gaze fixed on the closing door. As it shut with a firm click, she sat down on the floor, screamed, “ME DO CARRY BABY,” at the top of her voice, and began roaring at a volume quite uncomfortable to the ears.
Elizabeth sighed and rolled her eyes. I sent her a sympathetic look, speech being impossible against the wails of fury emanating from the small, frustrated person on the rug. All the while Sarah ignored her, singing to the doll and smoothing her fingers over the velvet, silk and lace of its dress. She did not care much for dolls but was becoming more interested in matters of dress as she navigated the year between nine and ten, and the doll’s ensemble was very fine. She still couldn’t hold a tune; the song she was inventing on the spot was more like a one-sided conversation to which a drunken composer had hastily added a theme.
“You are a pretty girl, and today is your birthday, and your boots are so smart, and I will give Mabel a chair for you to sit in if I can find one in a shop, and then we can play school, and I like the color of your hair better than mine, and today is a happy day . . .”
And on and on in the same vein, the notes rising and falling and occasionally wobbling into a different key. I realized that, annoying as Sarah’s song was to her elders, it was attracting Mabel’s attention; I supposed that was Sarah’s aim. The last year had taught us that Elizabeth’s oldest daughter had a firebrand nature. Her temper ignited easily but died down just as quickly if you didn’t argue with her. Sarah was adept at handling her.
Mabel’s face faded from an even, bright pink to a blotched ivory, her tear-red eyes gradually ceasing to produce the great fat drops that had cascaded down her round cheeks. After a minute or two, she began to spy on Sarah from under long, wet lashes. She boosted herself up into a standing position and toddled toward my daughter, lower lip well pushed out.
“My dolly.”
“I was just holding her for you.” Sarah briefly raised her eyes to the assembled adults to ensure they were noticing how subtle and clever she was being and cuddled the doll to her as she smoothed its legs straight inside its silk stockings. “She’s so pretty.”
“ME carry dolly.” Mabel’s arms shot out in front of her in a possessive motion, small hands making clutching movements as she neared her target.
“Why don’t we show dolly to Fan-Fan?” Sarah relinquished the doll into Mabel’s care. The little girl held it in a way that would endanger life or limb if it were an actual child but looked ready to follow Sarah.
My daughter rose in one fluid movement and headed toward the door, her hand outstretched behind her but otherwise looking quite unconcerned. When she had Mabel’s hand firmly in hers, she opened the parlor door and ushered the little girl through. She made a theatrical bow in our direction with her free arm before closing the door slowly, a grin on her face. “Fan-Fan” was Mabel’s nickname for her nursemaid, a nice young girl we all liked.
“Too much cake,” Tess said as the door shut. “She’s overexcited. Sary always used to be difficult when she had too
many sweet things. But I never remember her screaming as loud as that.”
“Let’s hope it’s worn Mabel out and Sarah or Fannie can get her to take a nap. I think she’s had quite enough of being the birthday girl for the time being.” I turned toward Elizabeth again. “Now, if I recall rightly, you were asking about Tess’s wedding before the volcano erupted?”
“The date,” Elizabeth said faintly, pressing at her temples to massage away a headache. “I suppose the prospective bride should be the one to tell me.”
“We think it’s going to be on the eighteenth of September.” Tess’s delighted grin warmed the room. “Even if our new home isn’t ready, Nell and Martin say we can live in the main house until it is. And it might be ready. They’ve already taken the roof off the annex. It looks so very funny, and one side of the garden is covered with stacks of stone and tiles and I don’t know what, so we can only walk on the other side. But Ruth’s redbud tree has some tiny pink flowers, and that’s on the side of the garden we can walk in.”
“Martin had the foresight to insist on foundations strong enough for a taller building, so adding another story is quite easy,” I informed our friend. “Just a little noisy during the day. Martin’s in his element, running back and forth between Lake Forest and this house and the architects’ offices. Now the weather’s improving, he can ride Lightning or drive that blessed phaeton of his, which makes him all the happier. He’s having a great deal of fun working on a small dwelling for a change. It’ll be the best-appointed apartment in the whole of Chicago.” I patted Tess’s hand, delighted to see the rosy glow light up her face again.
“And we’re going to have a little cottage in the grounds of the Lake Forest house, near the ravine.” Tess put a hand to her mouth, looking sheepish. “At least it won’t be ours. Martin says it’s a guest cabin, but then he said we’re the most important guests.” She giggled and rose to her feet. “I’ll be back soon.”