A Treasure of Gold

by Piper Huguley

  He fell asleep, and for the first time in years, His dreams did not involve Clara. Usually, he’s always had the same dream of her, chastising him for not getting her help soon enough.

  This time, he dreamed of Nettie, wearing that white robe and singing in that angelic voice that no one could ever forget once they’d heard it. She came down from a high pulpit and with a sorrowful look on her face, caressed his cheek. In his sleep, he thrilled to her touch in the way he hadn’t in a long, long time.

  He woke up to see Nettie and Goldie at the foot of his bed, staring at him. Nettie wore the same sorrowful look on her face as she’d had in his dream. He tried to prop himself up.

  Nettie gave Goldie the tray she was holding. The death angel came over to him right away to prop up his pillows, and as close as she was to him, he could smell a sweet scent of spice on her. She pulled away and took up the tray from his daughter in a no-nonsense fashion.

  “Daddy, Nettie made some cream of vegetable soup for you, and we’re going to feed it to you.” Goldie came forward and spread a napkin on his lap. She sat next to him, trying to balance the tray, but her lap was too small.

  The angel stepped forward and he appreciated the professional way in which she took up the tray from Goldie, but didn’t make his daughter feel small.

  “You go sit on your Dad’s other side and make sure the napkin doesn’t fall down. I’ll help him.”

  She perched herself on the edge of the bed, sat down next to him and slid the tray onto her gray lap perfectly. “Open up.” She was all business, he could tell.

  He knew how to shake her up. “Yes, Little Country.”

  That did it. Her hand shook as she dipped the spoon into the whiteness of the soup.

  “I’ve never had cream of vegetable soup before.”

  “I wanted to find a beef knuckle or something since the marrow would be more nutritious in helping your wound, but I didn’t see anything like that in your fridge.”

  “Cook won’t work on the weekends, so she leaves enough in here for me and Goldie to tide us over.”

  Nettie lifted the spoon to his lips and shoveled it in. What was she so embarrassed about? And why was she shaking? Well, he had been kind of mad at her.

  “Slow down, country girl. Got somewhere to go?”

  “I apologize.”

  He swallowed the small bit of soup and wanted to close his eyes in pleasure at its rich, velvety texture. It was made up of some cream, peppers, celery and carrots, along with some other things that he couldn’t identify. “Good. Was this in the cupboard?”

  “No. I made it. I put it together out of what you had.”

  She lifted another spoonful to his mouth and he was not ashamed to lick his lips to catch the last bit of soup. “You made this?”

  Her hand was shaking again. “I’m not the cook in the family, that’s Mags, but I do what I can. She taught me a few things.” Nettie lifted the spoon again and Jay eagerly took in the next spoonful.

  “Who is Mags?”

  “She’s my older sister, but younger than Ruby. She lives down in the brownstones with her husband, Asa Caldwell.”

  “The journalist. Yes, I know his work.”

  Heh.

  Nettie had the grace to look embarrassed as she kept shoveling soup into him. He opened his mouth to keep up with her, but still couldn’t put together what was wrong with her. After all, she was the one who had sent Clara on her heavenly journey. Clearly, she did not remember or know him, so why should she quake and shake?

  “You read the newspaper?” She seemed surprised.

  “All gangsters aren’t that bad. We like to see our mug shots.”

  She almost upended the bowl with the soup in it.

  “Relax, Little Country. I don’t bite. I was just joking with you.”

  “Okay.” Her relief showed on her face clearly as she scraped up the last of the soup from the bowl and fed it to him. The worrying look went away. She backed away from him.

  “I’ll take some more.”

  “Maybe later. We want to make sure it stays down.”

  He opened his mouth and just about protested that as good as the soup was, what he really wanted was a mess of eggs and a few links of sausage and a rasher of bacon. But he knew that she was in charge now so he closed his mouth instead.

  He ought to apologize for how he had treated Nettie back at Dr. Morson’s, but the words failed him. Who was this woman? She came in here and cleaned his floors, made a delicious soup and fed him, and he hadn’t paid her a red cent and she was no employee of his. Who would do such a thing?

  God, help me. The thought made him shift himself upwards, and he had less pain as he moved. Was that a prayer? Would it count? Jay hadn’t prayed like this in a long, long time. Not since Clara died. He wanted nothing to do with some entity that saw fit to take his wife away from him. Almost took Jay away, getting shot up like this. But to his shock, he was feeling better.

  He smiled at Nettie instead, hoping the small gesture conveyed his apology. “You hanging around here?”

  She shifted the tray in her hands. “I really shouldn’t. I might catch the later service.”

  “Little Country, it’s high noon. Maybe you didn’t realize ’cause it is so overcast today.”

  Nettie went toward the window and lifted a frilly white curtain. Moving the curtain made a dust cloud rise. She sneezed. “I see. I don’t want to leave Goldie here by herself.”

  Goldie quietly watched him eat and sat on the bed next to him, clearly afraid to lean too close to him as she might touch his wound. He squeezed her hand, even though it took some effort on that side, but he did it to reassure Goldie he was healing. And to reassure himself. It worked. Somehow, he did feel better.

  “I don’t want to hold you back from whatever you got to do.”

  “Sunday is a day of rest.” Nettie was all business again as she faced him from the window. “We all go over to Asa’s mother’s house down the row and have Sunday lunch together.”

  His Sundays had no church or familial gatherings. He usually took Goldie to the park or on a drive to the country out to their farm. Not today. When would he be able to get back on the farm again?

  “I’ve only been twice though,” Nettie provided.

  “You only been up here for two weeks?”

  She nodded and he marveled. “I knew that was some of that red Georgia clay on your heels.”

  She looked down at the floor and trembled again. Was he that fearsome? “Goldie and I’ll finish cleaning and I’ll see to it she gets lunch and dinner.”

  “Fine.” He laid back. Talking to her was more tiring than he thought. He watched her pick up the tray and walk out with Goldie.

  “Hey, Country,” Jay called out, “thank you.” He shaped himself into a comfortable position and went to sleep.

  Jay must have slept deeply and dreamed long because when he woke up the room was completely dark.

  Peering through the darkness, he noticed the stick-thin figure of Goldie rested on the large bed next to him, dressed in her white nightgown with a scarf tied neatly on her head. Why did she have that scarf on? Where had that come from?

  He felt okay enough to reach over with his good arm and shake her a bit. It wasn’t hard enough because Goldie slept like the dead, one reason why he was less afraid than he should have been to leave Goldie at home by herself. He kept shaking her gently until she finally woke up.

  “Where did the little country woman go?”

  Goldie stretched and Jay smelled her sleeping breath, which was none too pleasant. “Nettie? She told me to come in here with you when she went home. She put me on the night watch.” Goldie sat up and extended her little legs proudly. “Are you hungry?”

  He was but he didn’t want Goldie going down and messing with heating anything up. His shoulder felt somewhat better. Th
e long rest, combined with the nutritious soup, must have had a healing effect. Jay turned over so that Goldie’s smooth, scarf-covered head rested just under his hand on his good side.

  “Go on back to sleep, treasure. I’ll be fine.”

  She snuggled underneath his hand and went back to sleep right away. Goldie had obeyed.

  He started to laugh, but didn’t want to risk waking her again. He wanted some more of that delicious soup, but he was mighty tired. He slid back into a deep sleep.

  And it was in Jay’s dreams where Nettie touched him, made him feel like a man. It had been a long, long time since he had been at the receiving end of a woman’s touch.

  Nettie had a hard time sleeping that night. How would Jay get something to eat? She had visions of Goldie trying to start that oven and burning the house down with the two of them in it, unable to get out. He had only eaten one bowl of soup. The numbers kingpin was a big man, and he needed more nutritious food to help his wound heal.

  There had to be some way to go back and check on him, but Nettie didn’t know how.

  She sat up peering in the darkness. Well, she was twenty-three years old. Why shouldn’t she go back on her own? She was an adult. Even if she had displeased her family by being out all day and not showing up to church or for lunch at the Caldwells’ after.

  She laid back down. What had she done wrong? Nettie went back over the encounter she had with her family earlier in the day, trying to think.

  “Pittsburgh has made her go clean out of her head.” Ruby stood and waved her arms in a bossy way in the parlor.

  Nettie watched as she came through her sister’s front door, surprised to see them all gathered there. They must have come here to wait for her after the Caldwells’ lunch. The thought was a humiliating one. She never, ever caused anyone trouble.

  “Nettie would never behave in such a way back home.”

  “I’m right here. I’m not going back to the church kitchen today.” She emerged from the doorway, surprised by her vehemence as she addressed her older sisters. “I was doing good work by helping that family. They needed me there, more than I needed to sit up in a church, worshipping with a bunch of snooty folks.”

  Mags and Ruby fixed her with alarmed looks.

  “Well, I’m sorry. Freedom Christian seems to judge its parishioners in a way that I don’t like. I’m glad to help at the charity kitchen as I can, but I don’t know if that is the church home for me.”

  “Nettie needs to be engaged in a productive enterprise.” Asa’s voice came stern as he spoke from Ruby’s large, overstuffed chair. He was Mags’s husband, and he propped up his fake leg from the Great War on an ottoman. “I would put her in at the newspaper, but we don’t have any positions open now that would be suitable for women.”

  “She can help with the baby when it comes.” Mags’s voice became flat as she rubbed her large, round belly. She was sitting down, while Ruby stood, off her feet with her third pregnancy in four years. “Nettie needs to practice her housekeeping skills.”

  “I’ll be more than happy to help when the baby comes,” Nettie insisted. “But in the meantime, I want to do good works. I’ll go to the charity kitchen in the morning, as usual.”

  “Go there,” Adam weighed in with an even more stern tone than Asa’s, “and come right home. No more of this going other places.”

  Ruby clapped a hand to her mouth and that did it for Nettie.

  She folded her arms. “You all can stand down here and talk about my prospects until you are blue in the face. I’m going to the charity kitchen in the morning. If you had seen how small and helpless the little girl was, you would have known why I could not have left her alone in the house with her injured father. I came home and did not stay overnight, even though I wanted to.”

  “Well, thank the Lord above for that.” Mags shifted, and through her dress, Nettie could see the baby pressing a hand forward as if it agreed with its mother.

  “I’m glad that you cared for your reputation…” Adam frowned, “…but you still must do better.”

  “Thank you for your concern, brother.” She dipped her head to him. “But I’m twenty-three and have been on the revival tour for eighteen months. I know about a few things.”

  Mags and Ruby put a conspiratorial hand to their mouths, and this time, she could see their shoulders shaking. Laughing.

  She hated that.

  They were the older ones, always hanging together. Her younger siblings, Em and Delie, hung together. Nettie was in the middle by herself, with no one.

  She shook her head to clear the unpleasant memory. Instead, she switched to better thoughts of Jay’s juicy lips, his teeth, his deep voice and the smile he’d given her before she left.

  It wasn’t right to think of him either.

  Nettie tried to will herself to sleep, but the thoughts of the handsome gangster kept her flopping back and forth. In this new state, practically at war with her family, was she trying to protect something precious she hadn’t even known she possessed?

  Chapter Four

  In the morning, Goldie’s left foot’s toes were practically up Jay’s nose, and she wiggled them in her sleep. What would he do with this child?

  His heart seized in a brief moment of panic. His shoulder felt sore, but he would live. And he had to work. Still, it was Monday and he would go crazy if he had to stay here with her all day. Moving Goldie’s foot to the side woke her up.

  She stretched herself and gazed at him, speaking out as she always did, “Daddy, what am I going to do today?” The schools were on a break now, so she had been staying at home with Eva.

  He sat himself up using his good arm. “I don’t know. Eva isn’t coming back.”

  Then an idea hit him and he made a sudden movement, maybe a bit more sudden than he might have liked, but it had to be done. He needed to make sure the fellows saw him working like normal. Not showing up might give an outsider a prime opportunity to come in and take over. He had been making plans for getting out. But that would happen only when he wanted it to. Not before.

  “Let’s get dressed.”

  “There’s no breakfast, ’less we have soup again.”

  He could have done with that, given how good Nettie’s soup was, but not Goldie. Usually the nanny/cook would fix breakfast for her, but there was no Eva and no cook just now. He needed to hire some help.

  “Come on, let’s get dressed. We’re going out for breakfast.”

  Goldie was off the bed like the shot he thought it would slow him down, but didn’t. When she came back, she had on her usual self-imposed uniform of overalls and a long-sleeved shirt. She brought the hairbrush to him, but he couldn’t do much to help her with only one good hand. Well, this would prove his point. He needed help. Still, her braids looked too crooked. He was sad to see his pretty daughter looking like a ragamuffin newly arrived in town, but it couldn’t be helped.

  At least for now.

  He shrugged into some pants and managed to put a crisp white shirt on. Goldie helped him to button it up. The thought of a blazer or suit jacket on top of his wound was a bit much for him. He left off his usual tie, knowing that might raise questions, but at least he was dressed. His knees were a bit stiff, though he was able to get around much more than yesterday. Could it have been Nettie’s nourishing soup that made him feel so much better? He couldn’t wait to get some more of it in him later on.

  They headed out of the front door and he wondered briefly how they would go. While his arm felt better, he wasn’t willing to be jounced around on a horse or in a carriage. He didn’t feel confident in driving his own car either. Of course, he could have called someone to drive him, but ultimately, he decided to walk down the hill with Goldie.

  Freedom Christian stood tall, brown-bricked and imposing, on an angle to the bottom of their hill. He knew how close it was. Having carried his Clara there in his
arms. Still, it had been years since Jay had noticed it. Usually he would have a pain in his chest thinking about those things and what happened to his poor wife, but not today.

  Still, he had exerted himself more than he thought, and Goldie held the side door open for him. They went in together, descending the stairs to the kitchen. Several groups of people milled around eating breakfast and talking. All fell silent as soon as he and Goldie entered the open space of the basement.

  He saw instantly Nettie across the room, placing forks and knives on a table. Why was his heart pounding?

  Goldie broke free of his handhold, cried out “Nettie!” and ran to her.

  He wanted to cover Goldie somehow as loud voice echoed across the basement room. Jay wasn’t surprised to see several of the people frown. He gritted his teeth. Frown at his little girl? Bunch of hypocrites. It was no matter to him. Several of them were his very steady clients, and would be by the shop to see him later to borrow money, he was sure.

  The hypocrisy of people, especially ones who attended a church like this, never ceased to amaze him. Straightening himself up, he sauntered to where Nettie stood and reviewed her fresh-scrubbed beauty.

  Nettie’s black hair wrapped around her head in a thick braid that encircled her head and appeared as a crown, almost. She wore a spotless apron over her old-fashioned dress. She was neat and tidy and beautiful, but her body, what he could discern of it, made her seem the perfect prototype of the jazz baby.

  Boy, she would look splendid in some of the contemporary fashions. A warmth spread through him, knowing that Nettie would be scandalized at his conclusions, but he didn’t care. I’ll see her dressed like that one day.

  He was pleased to note Nettie was not upset at seeing Goldie, and she bent down to give her a warm embrace. Usually, many of Goldie’s caretakers did not greet her as well. They assumed, very incorrectly, that he did not notice their regard for Goldie was not genuine. They wanted to get to him. He knew it because several women had been after him even before Clara died—while she was sick. It completely turned him off. One reason why Little Country stunned him was because her kindness went to everyone, equally. Still, when she looked up at him, the look on her face was not a happy one.