“And you think my aunt is?”
“No, I didn’t mean that.” Booth swiped his hand in a horizontal motion as if to wipe the slate clean of such a thought. “If I’d been your aunt, I probably would have run home and yelled at your sister, too. Nobody wants to see anything like that happen to her. But I don’t think she’s got the temperament to be a flapper, anyway.”
“Me, neither.” Dan pointed his fork at Eric. “I don’t think you need to worry.”
“Not to mention, it’s a lot harder to get in trouble here in Maiden than it is in New York.” Booth imagined New York as crowds of people dressed in clothes he couldn’t afford, dancing wildly, holding glasses of bubbling champagne. Such a world held no appeal to him.
“Yes, a big city does offer more temptations.” Artie’s tone sounded with regret. “But you can find trouble anywhere if you look hard enough.”
“Yes, but my sis is a good girl.” Eric sounded with the conviction of a big brother. “I think Aunt Olive was looking for an excuse to talk. She was pretty upset. Even though she doesn’t know Selene like she knows some of the other girls in town, she’s upset for Miss Louisa’s sake.”
“Yes, it’s a sorry situation for everyone concerned.” Booth was grateful it was almost the end of the meal. He drank coffee while the others indulged in dessert then made a point of leaving with Artie.
Booth waited until the others were out of earshot before bringing his concern to Artie. “Look, sport, you’ve worked hard to build your reputation back up here in town, and now pretty much everybody thinks you’re swell. Selene’s reputation is tarnished. I won’t think hard of you if you don’t want to go over with me to see them anymore. I’ll just drop by as usual to see if I can do anything for Miss Louisa. I’ll make some excuse for you. They might figure out the score, but Selene has to realize she’s not going to be well-respected after this.”
Artie’s eyebrows rose. “Is that how you feel? Like you don’t want anything to do with her?”
Booth felt ashamed he had even spoken in a negative way, but he’d only been trying to protect Artie. “They’re my neighbors and I’ll help them. I don’t mind, anyway. Not that I think Selene did the right thing, but I’m not her judge.”
“I feel the same way.” Artie’s voice and the way he straightened himself showed his determination. “I’m not obligated to them the same as you, but I want to go. And I will go, as long as they’ll open the door to me.”
Booth gave him a singular nod. “Somehow, I have a feeling you’re just what they need.”
Chapter Eight
“Here. Like this.” Rolling pin in hand, Hestia showed Selene how to form a piecrust. The doughy smell promised that the pastry would taste delicious. “Now you try.”
Following Hestia’s lead, Selene rubbed flour on the rolling pin and then set to work. At first, she rolled with slow motions, but as she worked, her movements became vigorous. “Say, this is kind of fun.”
“Yes, it can be.” Hestia smiled to herself, glad to see her cousin taking joy in a productive task. “Make it smooth, now. And you’ll want a uniform thickness so it bakes evenly.”
Hestia’s trick of using a recipe including vinegar had served her well. Her piecrusts always rolled out with little effort and, after they baked, were flaked to perfection. Hestia didn’t brag on herself, but she knew that as she’d gained practice, her pie-baking had progressed to an expert level. A pang of guilt stabbed her, but their plan wasn’t totally dishonest. Selene had done most of the work, and Hestia reasoned that all women had to learn how to bake at some point.
The cousins worked on making the pie look beautiful, too. Soon they’d set it in the hot oven, and by the time Booth and Artie were due to arrive, the pie would be nice and warm, a pleasant way to divert the day’s chill.
The pie would be a victory indeed. Hestia felt tempted to bake scrumptious apple tarts for Booth but knew that to do so would be competing with her cousin and would only serve to make Hestia appear childish. Let Selene have her day. Her happy hours would be numbered once Aunt Louisa clamped down on the socializing. Hestia wondered if Selene would even be permitted visitors. Perhaps this little tea promised to provide the break her cousin needed.
Placing the pastry in a ceramic pie plate, Selene glowed with a sense of accomplishment. “There. What next?”
“Do you want a lattice top or a plain top?”
Selene eyed the pie. “Lattice.”
“Then we’ll pinch the crust like so.” Hestia showed her the technique of using her thumb and forefinger to make the edge curve into a pretty form. “Now it’s your turn.”
Selene tried but quickly frowned. “My half’s not coming out pretty like yours.”
Hestia wished she could deny it, but Selene spoke the truth. The wavy edges of her crust weren’t even and looked as though they had been prepared by the beginner Selene was. “It takes practice.” Hestia was tempted to finish the edge herself, but she didn’t want to take away from Selene’s accomplishment. “Would you rather try pressing it down with the tines of a fork? It’s a little easier that way but makes a pretty pattern, too.”
“No. I’ll keep trying this way.” Selene flattened the crust and tried once more from the beginning. Hestia watched her cousin finish the edges. Though not curved to perfection, it was pretty enough. “Looks nice.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I wouldn’t enter it in a contest, but it’s wonderful considering this is your first try. I know Artie and Booth will think it’s just fine. Besides, I imagine they’ll be more interested in how it tastes, anyway.”
“True.”
“Now let’s prepare the filling.”
The two women worked to make cinnamon-laced fruit filling, complete with plenty of butter and sugar. Then, following Hestia’s instructions, Selene sliced more pie dough into even strips and crisscrossed them over the filling.
Hestia leaned against the counter and admired Selene’s handiwork. “That does look wonderful. You did a grand job. Looks as though you’re a natural with latticework.”
“Copacetic! Let’s just hope I don’t burn it.”
“You won’t. We’ll watch the clock.”
As the pie baked, they sat at the kitchen table. Selene patted Hestia’s knee. “Thank you for helping me make the pie. I couldn’t have done it without you. You know something? When I first got here, I thought you’d changed from the cousin I’d always admired to a big Mrs. Grundy. But now that I’ve been here awhile, I see you’re not half bad. Why, I might even go so far as to call you the bee’s knees.”
Hestia had never been called such a thing—and doubted such a thing existed—but she realized that Selene had given her a supreme compliment. “Thank you. You thought I was terrible, did you? Well, I’m glad you got to know the real me.”
“So am I. Maybe country bumpkins aren’t so bad after all.”
Hestia refrained from rolling her eyes. Why Selene felt she had to spoil the compliment by following it with an insult, she didn’t know.
Selene sent Hestia a rueful grin. “I’m sorry you’ll be leaving.”
“Me, too.”
“Do you mean it?”
Hestia thought for a moment before responding. “Why, yes, I do. But I have a life in Haw River. I work for my father, you know.”
“Yes, your father, the doctor.” Selene’s voice took on a surprising degree of venom.
“Uh, yes.”
Selene paused before sharing news that came as a revelation to Hestia. “My father is awfully jealous of Uncle Milton, you know.”
“What? Jealous of my father? Why, we have a wonderful life, but your father lives the high life.”
“I know. But I wonder sometimes if he’s happy. I think he sometimes longs to come back here, to a life he thinks is simpler.” Selene looked around the kitchen, at its less-than-modern appliances and creaking floor. “I can promise it’s definitely simpler here.”
“What’s stopping him from moving back here? He�
��d be welcome.”
Selene shrugged. “He’s got too many people depending on him in New York. He’s an important businessman.”
“Makes sense.”
“But he’s not really happy. I know he’s not happy with me.” Selene looked down at her expanding midsection and rubbed it with the gentleness of a mother.
Hestia weighed her words. “I’m sure this isn’t what he planned for you.”
“You don’t say?” Sarcasm penetrated her voice.
“That’s my old Selene,” Hestia couldn’t resist joking.
“So what will you do when you go back to Haw River, other than slave away for your father? I mean, your marriage prospects have flown out the window.”
Hestia winced. “Maybe I’ll never wed.”
“Aw, applesauce! You won’t die an old maid. I’ve seen how you look at Booth. And how he looks at you.”
So Selene had noticed! Booth’s interest in her wasn’t a figment of her imagination, after all. With Selene’s competitive spirit, Hestia knew she’d never make such an admission unless she believed it. Hestia felt her face warm with the embarrassment of being discovered. “Oh, pshaw.”
“No, it’s true. I think he’s sweet on you. And now you have to go to Haw River.” Selene leaned closer to Hestia. “Do you think you really have to go back?”
“Well…Mother’s last letter did indicate she’s been assisting him in the office and it has worked out well so far.”
Selene returned to her position in the chair. “Sounds as though you’re being replaced.”
The idea left Hestia feeling more lost than she imagined she would. “I—I hope not. But if I am, I’m sure that’s God’s plan. He always has a way of prodding us in the direction we need to go. And if my guess is right, my direction will be to go back home after today.”
“When is Dr. Lattimore supposed to stop by?”
“Any time now. I hope Aunt Louisa gets a good report.”
“That would be copacetic. She’s certainly been a trouper. She deserves to be able to get out of bed.”
“So you have some good words for our aunt after all?”
Selene flitted her hand. “Oh, she’s not so bad. She’s just doing the best she can. With your medical background, what’s your opinion? Will the good doctor let her out of bed today?”
Hestia considered the possibility. “That will depend on how fast her bones have healed. I’ll admit, she’s been patient. I think I would have gone crazy hardly being able to move.”
“I’ll bet she won’t try to hang up any more pictures.”
“Or she’ll at least ask Booth to help her next time.” They heard a knock on the front door. “Perhaps that’s Dr. Lattimore now.”
Answering the door moments later, Hestia discovered that the visitor was indeed the doctor. He granted Hestia permission to accompany him into the sickroom. Anxious about her aunt, Hestia hovered near the door.
“How’s the patient today?” His manner was professional yet kind. An image of her own father entered Hestia’s mind.
“Ready to get up out of this bed.”
“I’m sure you are. I’ll give you a chance as soon as I check out a few things here.” The doctor gave her a cursory examination. He reminded Hestia of her father, who had given many such examinations himself.
“Looks as though you’re doing quite well. All right, you may get up and see how you do. I’ll help you. Take my arm.” He extended his hand.
Aunt Louisa shifted herself out of the bed and, using the doctor’s arm as a crutch, set herself aright and placed both feet on the floor.
“Do you feel like walking across the room?”
“Indeed I do!”
Selene came up behind Hestia and watched.
Aunt Louisa proceeded to show them how well she could walk, if only for a few steps. As soon as she had walked six steps to the vanity chair, she took a seat. “I’m tired already.”
“That’s to be expected. You have done quite well.” The doctor gave her a reassuring pat on the back.
“So Hestia can go home now?” Selene’s voice betrayed her upset.
“As long as you can help your aunt, then yes, Hestia can go home.”
Selene’s body tensed. She nodded quickly then retreated to her room. Hestia knew Selene wasn’t being rude. Aunt Louisa had instructed her to stay to herself whenever visitors arrived, except when she gave special permission, as when Artie visited.
“Thank you, doctor.” Hestia remembered her manners. Even though the doctor wasn’t making a social call, she liked to offer food. “Might I offer you a cup of coffee and cookies?”
“Thank you, but I have a few more stops to make today.” Aunt Louisa and Hestia murmured farewells, and Hestia escorted him to the door.
In a manner unusual for her, Hestia paused and watched the doctor walk to his Nash motorcar. Holding her arms across her chest, she tried to fight her roiling emotions. She wanted her aunt to be well, to gain her strength. She wanted to be there for Selene. Most of all, she wanted to be near Booth. But she also wanted to return to the life she knew in Haw River. Seeing the doctor reminded her of her dream to help others through medicine. If she didn’t return to Haw River, she could bid good-bye to any hope of a career. She enjoyed the day-to-day activity of her father’s office and loved to witness how his healing touch helped others. True, modern medicine couldn’t do everything, but science discovered something new every day, it seemed to Hestia. As time marched on, would there be any cure out of medicine’s reach? She wanted to be a part of that.
But for the moment, she had to put aside any thoughts of herself. She had Aunt Louisa to consider. Straightening herself, she thought of her aunt’s progress and, with a pleasant expression on her face, entered the sickroom. Now the smell of menthol liniment mingled with the faint medicinal aroma the doctor always carried with him. The remnants of the doctor’s presence wouldn’t linger, but Hestia guessed that the smell of menthol would remain until the house saw its last day.
Her aunt had returned to bed and sat propped up on pillows as usual. Hestia approached her. The day before, she had laundered Aunt Louisa’s coral bed jacket and matching gown. The scent of soap mixed with the soft talcum powder the older woman wore.
“How are you feeling now, Aunt Louisa?”
“Better, now that I know I’m well and can start moving around again. I’m surprised by how tired I feel, I’m sorry to admit.”
“As the doctor said, that’s to be expected. We haven’t let you move for weeks, remember? Now, I don’t want you to stress yourself. You might break your bone again. We wouldn’t want that to happen. Why don’t you rest now, and I’ll fix supper later. You can eat at the kitchen table for a change. In fact, maybe I should set the dining room table special to celebrate.”
“Don’t go to all that trouble. The kitchen table and everyday china are good enough for me.” Still, her wistful look told Hestia she wouldn’t mind the extra effort made in celebration of her doctor’s good report.
Selene entered. “It’s been almost an hour. Is it time to take the pie out of the oven yet?”
Hestia glanced at the nightstand clock. Where had the time gone? “Let me check on it before you do. I’ll be right there.”
Aunt Louisa took in an exaggerated sniff. “It smells good.”
Hestia inhaled the aroma of the baking pastry, the mixture of apples, butter, sugar, cinnamon, and dough promising the unmistakable delight of hot apple pie. “Yes, it does. I’m glad I found your recipe, Aunt Louisa. I didn’t remember all the details of Mother’s.”
“Glad to help.”
“Will you try a piece with us when the men visit?”
“I’m a bit tired. I think I’ll wait until dinner, if it’s all the same to you.” Hestia had a feeling her aunt wasn’t as tired as she claimed. Instead, she was probably being nice by not interfering in their visit. She hurried into the kitchen to check on the pie. A golden crust and bubbling cinnamon-colored filling told her that
the treat was ready. Using a dish towel, she took the pie from the stove.
Selene watched. “Mmm. I hope that tastes as good as it looks.”
“I think it will. It certainly smells good, too.”
Thinking about how much help Selene had needed just to bake a pie, Hestia thought about all the other duties she’d taken on during her visit. She alone had been responsible for the cooking, laundry, and cleaning. From her perch in bed, Aunt Louisa had managed to keep up her correspondence. Selene made halfhearted attempts at dusting, but that was the extent of the housekeeping help she offered. Hestia couldn’t imagine that her cousin, with her lack of skill and even less enthusiasm, would be successful in caring for their aunt. Besides, she would need care herself as her pregnancy progressed.
Hestia still wasn’t sure she wanted to stay. Sure, Booth made the place interesting, but with his good job at the mill’s front office, he had no reason to live anywhere but his home town. Maiden had its charms, but she had a life in Haw River, a life to which she planned to return. She enjoyed assisting her father in his medical practice and had hoped he’d keep her on indefinitely. But truth be told, Papa thought of her helping him as a diversion, not something to be taken seriously. He wanted marriage for her, not a career. She couldn’t deny the desire to have a husband and children was appealing to her. Couldn’t she have both a career and a home?
She wondered what Selene’s ultimate dreams were for her life. Surely she knew she couldn’t live the life of a flapper forever. Already, such a life had been interrupted by an unscrupulous man—though even Selene would admit she had to take responsibility for her own behavior. Eventually she would have to choose a path that would lead to a future beyond friends and fun. Perhaps the reality of an unplanned pregnancy would bring her to her senses. Hestia recoiled at some of the things Selene had suggested. Hooch parties could lead to nothing but trouble, especially for young people unaccustomed to strong drink and out to prove how daring and fashionable they could be. Selene had found out the hard way. Hestia wondered what Selene’s options would be once she returned to New York.
Love Finds You in Maiden, North Carolina Page 10