The Fashion Designer

by Nancy Moser

  “Well enough.” Gert placed her hat on a hook. “The devil can be quite the charmer when he tries.”

  “You didn’t stay.”

  Gert fell onto a chair, clearly done in. “I did not—though he begged me to.”

  “Will you go back?”

  “I’s not sure. Going back home is the easy thing, but I’s not sure it’s the right thing.”

  Henrietta applied the sentiment to her own situation. “I agree.”

  “Do ye?”

  “Sometimes we need to be brave.”

  Gert shrugged. “I donna feel brave.”

  Henrietta laughed. “Me either.”

  “But I am hungry. Do we have any of those apples left?”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  As expected, Cohen & Cohen was closed when Henrietta arrived the day after the theft. Actually, the brothers’ absence reinforced her decision to come. She’d been told they lived above the store. She stood before the outer door and inhaled the fragrance of the flowers she’d purchased from a street vendor. The spicy autumn scent ignited her courage.

  Yet she was unsure of protocol. She turned to Steven. “Do I knock here?”

  He tried the door and found it unlocked. “As I expected, there are stairs inside. Let’s go up and knock at the inner door.”

  They entered the narrow foyer and took the stairs that were dimly lit by a single bulb.

  Henrietta hesitated. Although she’d often gone with her mother to visit people who were ill or injured in Summerfield, she’d known those people. To do the same with strangers she’d never even seen was odd. Yet she had to do it. For the three of them had shared an awful experience.

  Upon knocking, an older woman answered, her gray hair pulled severely into a bun. “Yah?”

  “My name is Henrietta Kidd. The thief who tied up the Cohens also stole some of my jewelry.”

  Her eyes cleared with recognition. “The girl.”

  “Yes. And this is my friend, Mr. Holmquist.”

  “Good morning, ma’am.”

  The woman studied them.

  Not knowing what else to say, Henrietta held out the flowers. “Will you give the brothers these flowers for me? And tell them I am sorry for their—”

  “Berta, let the girl in,” came a voice from inside the flat.

  Henrietta and Steven were led inside. Though the curtains were open, the flat was dark with drapings of heavy fabric over furniture and mantel.

  From out of the dim came the voice again. “Shalom, Miss Kidd. It is good of you to come.”

  Once Henrietta’s eyes adjusted she could make out two men, sitting with their backs to the windows, their feet propped on footstools, blankets covering their legs. They had long gray beards and wore spectacles.

  “I wanted to see how you were,” she said.

  “Feh,” said the older man.

  The younger man—though still old—raised a hand to his brother’s response. “Forgive Aaron, for he likes to kvetsh.” He pointed at the woman. “And Berta has no manners. Offer them a chair, sister.”

  As the woman moved to do so, Henrietta declined. “We cannot stay. We have to get to work.”

  “Oy vey!” the older one said. “Mishegoss. Work with nothing. It’s all gone.”

  “Shush, Aaron. Behave yourself. We have lived through worse than this. We will recover.”

  “I hope you do,” Henrietta said. “In body and business.” She gave the man the flowers.

  “You are indeed a mentsh, Miss Kidd.”

  “Pardon?”

  “An honorable person.”

  She began to shake her head but simply said, “Thank you.”

  “We are sorry you suffered too.”

  “I pray the police catch the man.”

  “As do we.” He nodded to his brother, who managed a nod too.

  “I’ll leave you then,” she said.

  “Kol tuv,” the man said. “Be well. And hashem imachem. May God be with you.”

  “And with you,” she said.

  Upon exiting the building the sunlight of the new day held extra warmth.

  I’m sorry, Mr. Ricci, but we have no money to pay the rent.

  Maude rode the streetcar to meet him, the jostling of the vehicle worsening the condition of her knotted stomach. Vesta had told her to use her charm. It was the last thing she wanted to do. For there was too much of a spark between them to begin with. How was it possible to keep her distance yet use her charm at the same time?

  When she entered the building that held his office, she was glad it was on the ground level. She wasn’t sure she could find enough breath to climb stairs with her insides ajumble.

  She was just about to go inside when he entered the building after her.

  “My, my. The early bird catches the worm, Maude?” he said.

  “I thought it best to come first thing.” She stepped aside so he could unlock the door.

  He swung it open for her. “The shop space is worth being eager about.” He motioned to a chair near his desk. “Shall we proceed?”

  She sat—because her legs required it—and immediately regretted the decision. She should have given him the bad news in the doorway so she could flee.

  He studied her face. “What’s wrong?”

  Best to just state it plain. “We can’t rent the space right now. We don’t have the money.”

  He cocked his head as though uncertain he had heard her correctly. “You had the money on Friday.”

  “We had promise of the money. The one who promised has been forced to rescind her offer.”

  He sat back in his chair with a huff. “You have no other alternatives for funding?”

  “None.”

  “I see.”

  She hastened to couch her directness with explanation. “We will be good for it but will not be receiving any income until after the store has opened.”

  “I see.”

  “We are nearly through creating the inventory. We hoped to be open in time for Christmas buying, perhaps soon after Thanksgiving.”

  “I—”

  “Please don’t say ‘I see.’”

  “What would you wish for me to say?”

  She stood and began to pace the length of his desk. “I wish you didn’t see. I wish it were not about dollars and cents. I wish I could say we’ll find the money elsewhere, but we are all spent—physically, mentally, emotionally, and monetarily.”

  He smiled. “All that.”

  “The full of it.”

  He rested his elbows on the arms of his leather chair and tented his fingers, touching them to his lips. “Hmm.”

  She turned toward the door. “I am truly sorry for wasting your time. Perhaps this is God’s way of delaying the opening of our store.”

  His eyebrows rose. “You believe that?”

  “I don’t. But some of the others do.”

  “You have no such certainty?”

  “Who has certainty about the will of the Lord? I certainly have no such knowledge.”

  “If only we did…” His words seemed to apply to something else. He snapped out of his short reverie. “Let me see what I can do.”

  “Do?”

  “Let me contact the landlord and see if the first payment can be delayed.”

  She couldn’t believe her ears. “He would hold the property for us?”

  “I will ask.” He stood. “I will see you soon.”

  “Soon?”

  He blinked then added, “I will contact you when I get a response.”

  She wanted to rush into his arms and embrace him for his kindness, but stood her ground near the door. “Thank you, Mr. Ricci.”

  “Antonio, remember?”

  Ah yes. Antonio.

  Stop it, Maude.

  Annie looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror, turning sideways. She smoothed her dress over her midsection, cupping her hands below. Baby was showing itself and could not be ignored. And it wasn’t just her midsection that had changed. Her bosoms h
ad grown large and her face puffy.

  “Only a few more months, sweet baby.”

  The words gave her comfort but also filled her with panic. In only a few months she would be a mother—in addition to her other roles as wife, friend, and business partner. Her days were already overly full. How much more so would they be with a baby to attend to?

  Sean came into the bedroom, adjusting his tie. “You look glorious.”

  “Chubby.”

  “Radiant.”

  She let him have the last say, for she knew he would never let her win an argument against herself—a trait she found endearing, though often exasperating. Sometimes a woman needed to wallow in pity, if only for a bit.

  He stood behind, wrapping his arms around her. They looked at each other in the mirror. He kissed her ear then put a finger on the crease between her eyebrows. “What’s this for?”

  “You know very well what it’s for.”

  “You shouldn’t worry. We prayed about it.”

  She sighed and pulled his arms tighter around her waist. “Sometimes my faith is as weak as a second brew of tea. The rest of you are so strong, so sure He will come through for us.”

  “Name a time when He hasn’t.”

  Her mind went blank.

  “Exactly.” He spun her around to face him. “He protected you when you left the employ of Henrietta’s family. He led you to the Tuttles. He allowed you to get a job at Macy’s and then Butterick. He brought you to me.” He grinned. “And, He saved you from the Titanic—try to dispute that one.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can’t dispute any of them, and I’m only naming the highlights.” He took a fresh breath, gazing into her eyes, reaching her core as no one else could. “He loves you and has led you to this moment. He will not suddenly say, ‘I think I am done with Annie Culver. Goodbye.’”

  Sean was completely right. “Why do I waver? God has done so much for me, and yet I doubt.”

  Sean thought a moment, moving his gaze from her eyes to the air. “To have faith, have faith.”

  She scoffed. “It’s that simple?”

  He cocked his head, considering her question. “Yes.”

  “I want to believe as you do.”

  “Then do it. Believe.”

  “How?”

  “Tell Him you trust Him. Then let Him do the rest. The more you say it, the more your words will become reality. God is not going to ignore you.”

  Annie loved the sound of that but still had her reservations. She thought of another flaw in her faith. “I thought He sent Henrietta to save us, to fund us.”

  “Maybe she’s here for other reasons.”

  Annie remembered her friend’s glowing face when Steven stopped her from sailing home to England. “She found Steven.”

  “And he, her.” Sean pulled her into his arms. “Life is a grand puzzle, with pieces interlocking, pieces elusive, pieces missing. But in the end, God puts it all together and we see the full picture.”

  She lovingly touched his cheek. “God made you incredibly wise.”

  “Occasionally.”

  “Always.”

  “You may be right. Thank you.”

  She smacked his arm, her worries forgotten.

  For now.

  Everyone stopped working when Maude returned from Mr. Ricci’s. They looked at her with expectancy and hope. She wished she had more concrete news for them.

  “What did he say about us not having the rent money?” Edna asked.

  “He was quite understanding.”

  “Meaning?”

  “He will talk to the landlord and see if the rent and deposit can be delayed.”

  The women hugged each other. But Maude raised a hand. “He will ask. Nothing is certain as yet.”

  Annie put a hand on her chest, as though calming the beating of her heart. “It is a reprieve. Since your meeting could have gone differently, I will accept the ‘ask’ as a blessing.”

  Maude hung up her coat and unpinned her hat. But then her hat hung in midair between head and hook.

  “Is there something else?” Annie asked.

  Vesta grinned. “Did the subject of your meeting veer from business issues to those of a more personal nature?”

  “Not like you think.” Although they could have. Maude placed her hat on the hook. “We talked about God.”

  “Making it not your usual business meeting,” Henrietta said.

  Maude shrugged. “His name was mentioned. That’s all.” And His will. Whatever that is.

  “Mr. Ricci’s ability to look beyond the numbers to the divine makes me like him even more,” Edna said.

  She should never have brought it up. “All of you must stop this. If I said he was wearing a purple plume in his hat, you would find reason for liking him more.”

  “Not purple,” Vesta said. “Perhaps blue…”

  Annie seemed to remember something then retrieved a note. “From your mother.”

  Maude broke the seal.

  Come to dinner Wednesday night at seven. Hans and I look forward to seeing you.

  Love, Mother

  “What’s she say?”

  “She’s invited me to dinner.”

  “How nice of—”

  She tossed the note into the trash bin. “I’m not going.”

  “Why not?” Edna asked.

  It was hard to explain. They had reconciled. There was no reason she shouldn’t go, and yet…

  “You’re not upset with her for being unable to fund us, are you?” Annie asked.

  “No, of course not. You know I never asked. It was clear she had no money.”

  “She was kind to you,” Annie said. “All that was between you was repaired, was it not?”

  If you mean that I told her about the rape, yes. “I suppose.”

  “Then why not fully rekindle your relationship?” Edna asked. “As a mother I can’t imagine the pain I would endure if Steven pulled away from me.”

  “She is making an effort,” Vesta said. “That’s worth effort on your part.”

  “She’s remarried.” As soon as Maude said the words she realized how petty they sounded.

  “So you want her to grieve your father all her life?”

  “No, of course not.” Though I do.

  “Meaning, you want her to be happy,” Henrietta said.

  “It’s just a dinner. You owe it to her to try and—”

  “Enough!” Maude said. “Between matching me up with Mr. Ricci and repairing my family life, you all have far too many opinions.”

  “That’s what friends are for,” Annie said with a smile.

  “Interfering?”

  “Only if necessary.” Edna gave her a motherly look. “So…are you going?”

  “As if I have a choice?”

  The women clapped. Unfortunately, Maude did not feel like celebrating.

  Annie stood back and gazed at the rack of newly made dresses. “We’re nearly finished.”

  Edna plucked a string from the sleeve of a blue serge jacket. “Gert and Ginny will finish up the last of this design by evening. Then we will have two of each size.”

  “But is that enough?” Vesta asked. “What if three women, who are the same size, want the same dress? What do we do then?”

  “We make them one,” Annie said, though she knew this was an issue. “We will have to keep a tight inventory list so we know which dresses need to be in production.”

  Henrietta called to the seamstresses, hard at work in the other room. “You two are going to be extremely busy. Continually busy.”

  “We don’t mind,” Gert said.

  “We don’t,” Ginny said. “My son needs new boots for the winter. I needs the wages.”

  The mention of the workers’ needs added to Annie’s constant burden, but she remembered Sean’s simple formula: to have faith, have faith. She said a quick prayer, Provide, Lord. Provide for us all.

  There was a knock on the door to the workshop. “Come in,” Annie said
.

  Mrs. Sampson swept into the room with a rush of exuberance that unsettled the air itself. “Hello, my dear ladies!”

  It took Annie a moment to acknowledge her presence. “Eleanor. Hello.”

  Eleanor kissed Annie’s cheeks. “Hello? That’s all the greeting I get?”

  Annie forced herself fully into the moment. “How nice to see you.”

  “That’s better. For it is very nice to see all of you.”

  Annie noticed a sash strung diagonally across her chest: VOTES FOR WOMEN. “You are a suffragette?”

  She flung her fist into the air and called out, “Votes for women!”

  The others were taken aback.

  “Come, ladies. Don’t look so appalled. Tomorrow is Election Day. Don’t you wish you could vote?”

  “I’m not a citizen,” Annie said.

  “Then become one!” Mrs. Sampson turned to the others. “But you ladies, you should be champing at the bit to make your voice heard.”

  “I do like Teddy Roosevelt,” Maude said. “He’s feisty.”

  “But he’s been president twice already and didn’t win the Republican nomination from President Taft,” Vesta said. “He’s a rabble-rouser. He didn’t get what he wanted so he started his own party—which has little chance.”

  “He’s better than Eugene Debs,” Edna said. “He’s a socialist.”

  “I’m a Woodrow Wilson fan myself,” Eleanor said. “I know it took forty-six ballots at the convention to choose him as our candidate, but let me assure you, if women had been allowed to participate, we would have wrapped it up in the first ballot.” She shook her head in tiny bursts. “Men seem to like brouhaha and drama.”

  And you don’t? Annie kept the opinion to herself. “I’m impressed you ladies know so much, especially when you can’t vote.”

  “It’s our duty to be in-the-know,” Eleanor said. “What leg do we have to stand on, asking to vote, if we show ourselves ignorant?”

  Henrietta looked at Eleanor, rapt. Annie realized they had never been introduced. “Eleanor, I would like you to meet Henrietta Kidd. Henrietta, this is Mrs. Sampson.”

  Eleanor studied her a short moment then her face became animated. “I saw you before! At the House of Paquin in Paris!” She looked at Annie then back to Henrietta. “Annie used to be your maid, yes?”

  “That is correct.”