“It’s not in my nature.” Millie nodded toward the scarf Jennie still had loosely wrapped around her neck. “Are you purchasing that?”
Jennie removed it, folded it, and placed it back on the shelf as two other women entered. Millie waved a happy hello to them, then turned back to Jennie and her friend.
“You have good taste.” She nodded to Ariyah. “Perhaps a bonnet with a havelock in back might interest you. Godey’s Lady’s Book featured it just last month.”
Millie nodded as a mother and daughter entered and the shopkeeper lowered her voice as she returned. “You see my dilemma. I have a reputation as a churchgoing woman to protect. I can’t have fallen women here, influencing children.” She straightened her shoulders. “Or divorced women either, though those sinners too are difficult to identify.”
“Divorce isn’t contagious, nor is prostitution,” Jennie said. “And for your information—”
“This is the perfect time to leave,” Ariyah said and hustled Jennie toward the door.
“You have not been telling me everything going on in your life, my friend.” The sky looked like wet hat-felt, dark and gray, though it couldn’t be more than three o’clock in the afternoon and the day had begun with the hopeful rays of sun. A duck waddled down the cobbled street, moving out of the way as Ariyah’s carriage approached. “Are you consorting with prostitutes?” She said it in jest. When Jennie didn’t speak, she added, “I liked what you said, about a biblical woman of negotiable affections being a missionary. And what’s contagious or not.”
“I’m not sure when I became an evangelist.” Jennie lowered her eyes.
“Oh, you’ve always been that, by your desire to take care of other people, defend them.” Her words warmed. They stepped into the closed carriage. “But you need to tell me all of it.”
Jennie sighed. Perhaps this was the time. “After Charles left us, I went to see Priscilla. The room was dark and I didn’t realize how very young she is. She sounded so confident, but seeing her in the store today, I saw a frightened young woman who might find her way out if someone opened the right door.”
Their carriage rolled over a rock. Ariyah jumped as though poked. “I’m jittery these days. I’m not getting a lot of sleep. A very active baby.” White gloves made circles on her belly.
“I’ll bring you some skullcap tincture. It’s a mild sedative. It might help you sleep better.”
“Always looking for ways to help, aren’t you.”
“I guess I am.”
“I so hope you can find another nurse position after Mr. Parrish moves to Portland. It’s in your blood.”
“I’d better find something soon.” Jenny thought she might take a bit of that skullcap herself. She wasn’t sure how she’d make up the money she’d spent on a purse for a woman tangled in the dissolution of her marriage.
Jennie returned to her duties scrubbing the linoleum, a new oilcloth product Josiah had ordered in last year. It was really the last of the work to be done before the final closing up. They’d be finished before Christmas. Josiah had already secured a home in Portland, and with Jennie’s parents moving to Salem right after Epiphany, she’d have a place to stay until she secured a new position.
“Next Tuesday I’ll have additional duties,” she told Josiah. “I trust that’s acceptable. I’ll work on winnowing until then. But we’re mostly finished. I’ll—I’ll miss our time together. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your family these past months. I can continue to make my payments to you through Bush’s new bank if that’s acceptable.”
“Where?”
“The Ladd and Bush bank, on State Street.”
“No, where are your duties starting next Tuesday?”
“Oh—I’ve taken another position. I can meet my obligations, including my debt to you.”
“I see.” He stood, sat down again, then stood and walked to the window. “I’m sorry to hear that.” His hands were clasped behind his lean back, marking the dividing line between his white blouse and the britches he’d tucked into black boots. His hair curled just above his collar.
His reaction surprised her. He seemed disappointed. Jennie wished she understood subtleties better. Perhaps he thought she wouldn’t need to work to support Douglas? “You’ll be in Portland. The work here really is complete. The house is closed except for the rooms we use daily. We only have a few boxes remaining of Elizabeth’s things I found in the attic to sort through.”
“Yes, I see that.” He’d sat back down and now drummed his fingers on the table where he’d been drinking the coffee Chen prepared for him. He stroked his beard the color of new snow over soil. “I could pay you more, Jennie, so you wouldn’t have to assume additional duties elsewhere.”
“It’s a temporary position. And I do need to leave once you’re gone.”
“Will you nurse somewhere else?”
She shook her head. “That would be too soon after Elizabeth, whom I so loved caring for. No, Millie’s Millinery needed someone through the season.” She thought of Millie herself, tied up in her prejudices, and wondered at what point she would tell her that she was divorced.
“A millinery. Perhaps you can help me choose gifts for my daughters-in-law. For Christmas.”
“I’d be pleased to.” Relief flooded over her.
They worked in silence for a time.
“Probably have Christmas in Portland,” he said.
“I thought as much. Maybe Chen should precede you.”
“Yes. He’ll need to prepare the kitchen. I’ll hire a housekeeper.”
“I’ll finish at the end of the week then, when Chen leaves.”
“That would be best.”
She had known this was coming, had prepared for it. Yet it felt as though she faced another loss. But she was gaining! She’d join her son’s life, adapt to her parents’ patterns. There’d be a new house they’d all be adjusting to, so perhaps the timing was perfect. And yet . . . she’d found healing here, first as a nurse and then with the privilege to walk beside another, bringing comfort. Hadn’t her father once said that the Greek word for comfort was translated as “to come along beside”? She had kept a promise to Elizabeth to come along beside Josiah. She’d done her duty. She’d been vulnerable with this man, and he had never wavered in his kindness. She’d miss that. It hadn’t been an obligation. She’d miss him.
The two had often shared a room in silence at day’s end. Him reading, Jennie knitting, their solitude interrupted by single sentences as though the other had been privy to intimate thoughts. Jennie had seen that happen with her parents now and then, and as a child had always been confused at the words they exchanged that came from nowhere, rarely saying, “What are you talking about?” Somehow they got in step. That had never happened with her and Charles. She would miss that ease that came with Josiah. The thought startled her. She had compared quiet times with Josiah to her parents’ loving interactions.
She shook her head, finished the scrubbing, then removed the wrapping around her head. In the parlor now, she pawed through one of Elizabeth’s button jars, wanting to make sets for each of Josiah’s daughters-in-law’s baskets. She marveled at the variety, the smooth ivory, the nubby deer horn, tiny shells. She looked up to find Josiah staring at her. “Is there something you need?”
“No.” Then, “Yes.” He cleared his voice. “I need to tell you that I will miss you, Jennie Pickett.” He spoke it like water warming over her. She swallowed.
“I’ll miss you too, Josiah Parrish.” She softened her voice, conscious that she needed to. “And Van. I’ll miss him too. You mustn’t forget to feed him twice a day.”
“He’ll adopt Chen, I suspect. The rewards are better in the kitchen.”
He hesitated, opened his mouth to speak, then didn’t. She was grateful. Her own feelings of loss were as mixed up as the dog’s food. Her hands shook, her heart beat faster, and the buttons slipped from her fingers. She felt Josiah stand before her. She looked up at him. He stands so close
. Her world was awash with confusion.
21
When Air Becomes Breath
Life changes in a breath, the air distilled to purity, meant for one, then two, alone. Jennie remembered a verse from Ecclesiastes of two being better than one, for if one falters, the other can pick them up. The words pushed through memory as Josiah removed the button jar from her fingers, took her hands in his, and pulled her to stand before him. She had no breath at all.
“Jennie.”
She knew what he was going to say before he said it. “It’s too soon. It’s not—we’re not—I’m not . . .”
“Yes. We are.”
He kissed her then and all the breath of a thousand angels seemed to swirl about them, their wings fluttering her heart. A wash of bubbling water moved through her. She felt the softness of his lips, then a pressure before release, and he pulled her into his chest, his chin now on her head. She wrapped her arms around his chest, held ribs and spine and sinew. She eased into the comfort of him like an infant settles into her protector. Safe. Secure. Loved.
“What should we do?” she whispered.
“Marry, of course.”
She wanted to ask him if he wasn’t still mourning Elizabeth and misplaced his deep affection for her as that of love. She wanted to ask if he saw her as that daughter he’d regretted they never had—but his next kiss and its intensity silenced questions. She wanted to ask him if he loved her, but then didn’t need to.
“I love you, Jennie. I didn’t know it until this moment when I realized I would no longer have you in my life. The ache of it was nearly as deep and profound as losing Elizabeth.”
“Perhaps it’s that I’ve been a bridge for you. And you’re afraid to cross it without familiar faces. But you’ll do well without me. You know you will.”
“I don’t doubt I would. But I don’t want to. I never thought I’d feel this way again.” He held her at arm’s length. He shook his head in wonder. “You will never find anyone who loves you as much as I do at this moment and will forever. But the question is, how do you feel? About marrying a man some years your senior?”
His age was nothing in her mind. Perhaps it should have been, but she’d had young love, and though she had turned only twenty-six in November, she’d lived a lifetime. Young love had brought her Douglas, yes, but more hard times, betrayal, loss, and pain. She couldn’t imagine Josiah cloaking her with such robes. And she had never truly been aware before of the feelings that filled her now. Never.
“I wouldn’t be marrying a man ‘some years my senior.’ I’d be marrying a good man.”
He laughed then, a deep, relaxing laugh. “So will you?”
“Yes.” He kissed her again as Van barked and jumped at their feet. When he released her, she said, “It’s come late, but I love you too, Josiah Parrish. I didn’t know it until now.”
She heard Chen calling for the dog, charging down the hall. He stopped when he saw them embraced. “Misser Parrish, Miss Jennie, I sorry.” He bowed his head, started to back away. Jennie stepped to Josiah’s side, picked Van up, and held him close.
“No need, Chen,” Josiah said. “You’ll be the first to know. I’ve just asked Mrs. Pickett to be my wife.”
“Miss Elizabeth, she tell me look.” He pointed to his eyes. “Plan wedding Miss Jennie. Mr. Parrish, she tell me. Bake cake now?”
Elizabeth thought this would happen? “In a while.” Jennie laughed, then sobered. What were the implications of them being in this house together now and how would his children feel about them? And Douglas.
Over tea that Chen brought in, they planned. “You still must go to Portland and I’ll stay here in Salem, at Ariyah’s, then at my parents’ when they move. We must give ourselves time, a few months, to see if this is really what we both want.”
“A few months?” He rolled his lower lip out like Douglas did when he pouted.
“Yes.” Jennie smiled. Now that both their eyes were clearly set upon each other, everything made her smile. “We’ll set a date but wait until after Epiphany to tell people. Maybe marry in June. There’ll be roses blooming. It gives us time to discuss it with your children.” Charles Winn was only a year older than she was. He might not take this well.
“Nothing to discuss. It will be so.”
“But you have to give them pause. They’ve just lost their mother.”
“Who apparently saw this coming.”
“They might think something untoward occurred while she was still alive. Or that you’re marrying out of grief. Or that . . .” She didn’t want to say it out loud, but she knew others would. She inhaled. “They might say that with the loan, I am digging gold in the Parrish household instead of in the mines of Canyon City.” It was a mantle worn by divorced women.
“I’ll speak to my sons. They know when I make up my mind I’m not easily dissuaded. As for the latter, no. That won’t be so. No mining needed to repay a nonexistent debt.”
“But Charles Winn was only comfortable with my continuing to work here because he knew I was paying off that loan. He’ll think, or he could, that I’m marrying for the financial benefits.” She stopped. “There’s no more debt?”
“Elizabeth canceled the repayment in her will. She didn’t want anything to anchor you to something your former husband began.”
“I felt responsible.”
“She knew that. Which is why she wanted the loan nullified, not reduced. Debt paid. And my son knows that too, being the executor, but it made him feel better not telling you until after I moved to Portland. He does have a little problem with how things might ‘look.’ I agreed because I wanted very much for you to stay. I actually asked him to delay, so that you would. I really did think it was to help winnow Elizabeth’s things, but I realize now my affection for you ran much deeper. I just didn’t see it.”
They’d been winnowing more than memories. The generosity of the Parrishes was beyond any Jennie could have imagined.
“We would have forgiven what was left after seven years anyway. It’s an Old Testament practice that I see as still having merit. I’ve always found greater abundance arrives to well cover the lost payments and interest from what one forgives.” He took her hands in his. “My sons will come to understand.”
Charles came to her mind. She must move forward on that act of forgiveness because harboring resentment took up room in her heart, stole breath from the air of her existence, breath that she wanted now to mingle with Josiah’s love. She would tell Charles of the debt forgiveness too, if she saw him again. Perhaps it would relieve him of some suffering, when he sobered and might see himself as worthy, move away from weariness and distance. And what better way to begin another life than relieving the suffering of another, including her own. She took in the sight of this good man before her, and thanked God for keeping her eyes closed when needed and dropping the scales from them now.
Josiah argued against her taking the position at Millie’s. “There’s no need.” The two walked in the Salem dusk, accompanied by the winter mist, her arm through his elbow. She found she could express herself better facing outward rather than looking into his eyes.
“I want to know that I can meet a commitment I’ve made. And this gives us time to be certain.”
“I am certain.”
Jennie was as well, but it was happening so quickly. She had made one poor choice in a marriage and didn’t want to get swirled like a taffeta skirt into another poor one. “Your children need time to adapt to this. I want them to know I am able to support myself and my son. And paying off my Parrish debt. At least until the executor tells me the debt is freed.”
“Oh, he will.” Josiah scuffed his boots on the boardwalk, knocking off light snow. “Why not find a position as a nurse, then. Or work for a doctor. To pursue your medical interests.”
“You remembered.” She stopped and looked at him, elbows entwined, her hands warm inside the muff. They would join Ariyah and Peleg that evening, breaths visible in the night air. Their friends wo
uld be the first to hear the news, though they’d be bound in secret until after Christmas, until after Josiah spoke to his sons and their wives; Jennie to her parents and to Douglas.
“Of course I remember. You’re a natural healer. You should work, if you insist on proving your independence to my children. But why not do what appeals to you.”
“Studying with a doctor, yes, that would be welcomed.” She looked into his eyes, found herself lost in the depth of them, in the silver beard he trimmed, rounding it like a clamshell.
“It’s not necessary for you to pursue anything.”
“It is for me.” She told him then about the encounter with Miss Priscilla and Millie’s reactions. “I thought I might do some good when an undesirable, as Millie calls them, comes in. If they do. And besides, I’ll get a discount for my own Christmas purchases.” She poked him with her elbow.
“It’s temporary?”
She nodded.
“I should stay in Salem then. Why go to Portland at all?”
“Because your children expect it and because we need that time. I do.” He was quiet but she felt him tense beside her as they began to walk again. Jennie tried to catch a snowflake with her tongue. Into the silence she said, “I’m not questioning . . . us.”
“You knew what I was thinking.”
“I want time to prepare Douglas. It will be difficult for him to suddenly have a mother and a father again. I thought if I could ease him back in with me and then introduce you in your new role, it’ll be better.” She’d seen Douglas with Josiah and she’d seen Josiah’s parenting in the goodness of his children. He’d be a good father to Douglas, but it was another adjustment for her son. For them all.
“Will we have children, Jennie?”
Could Douglas adjust to a brother or sister? Her son had awaited Ariyah and was saddened and confused when the baby did not stay in his world. And Jennie had lost a child. Did she wish to face that possibility again? Her stomach tightened with Josiah’s question, but she didn’t know if from joy or trepidation. She just knew she didn’t want to answer it now.
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