by Nancy Moser
“Good morning, Maude,” Edna said with a smile. “I made scrambled eggs.”
Maude wanted to say, “I don’t want any,” but in truth her stomach rumbled with hunger. She hadn’t had dinner last night, and today her body demanded sustenance.
Plus, apologies were best tackled on a full stomach.
“Thank you,” she said, sitting at the table.
Edna brought her a cup of coffee and then a plate of eggs, setting the salt and pepper close by. She did the same for herself and sat down. “Did you sleep well?”
Horrible. Barely at all. “Well enough.”
“Good. Good.”
It was Maude’s fault there was tension between them. Best to rid the room of that encumbrance. “I’m sorry about last night. You wanted to help and I wouldn’t let you.”
“I still want to help.”
And I still won’t let you. Maude shook her head. “I’ll be fine. It’s a new day.”
“I take comfort in knowing each day is a chance to start over.”
Maude was depending on it.
Maude did not allow second thoughts. She took the streetcar to Antonio’s office, strode to the door, opened it, and presented herself to the secretary. “I’m here to see Mr. Ricci.” She hastened to add, “If you please.”
“Miss Nascato, is it?” the woman said.
For a moment, Maude feared that Antonio had issued a particular ban in case she showed up. It would serve her right.
“Yes, that’s right,” Maude said. “I know I don’t have any appointment, but I was hoping he would see me.”
The woman rose from her desk. “Let me check.” She knocked on his office door, slipped inside, moved the door nearly closed in order to speak, then opened it again. Fully. “He will see you now.”
He stood behind his desk when Maude entered but made no move to shake her hand or show her a seat. So she stood near the door.
“Good morning, Mr. Ricci.”
“Good morning, Miss Nascato.” There was no smile. “Is there an issue with the rental space?”
She was taken aback. “No. I mean not that I know of.”
“And so…?”
This was going to be harder than she expected but no easier than she deserved. “I came to apologize for my rudeness last night. There is no excuse for such behavior.”
“No, there isn’t.”
Her heart beat doubly hard. “My life is rather complicated right now. And I did not expect you to be there, and when you were…”
“I assure you I will not be so again.”
He was so harsh. “Don’t ostracize yourself from my mother and Hans on my account.”
“I was there on your account. Willingly.”
So he was in on the matchmaking. Shame squeezed Maude’s heart to the point of bursting. “I know it’s hard to understand everything I said, and I meant nothing against you personally because I find you to be a kind and charming man, but—”
His eyebrows raised. “It was an odd way to treat such a man.”
She adjusted her purse in her hands, wishing it were a shield to hide behind. “Again, I can only offer my sincerest apologies. Do you accept them?”
“I suppose I do.”
She could finally breathe. “Perhaps we can see each other on occasion? As friends?”
“I doubt it. I’m overly busy and my life is quite…complicated.”
Touché. “I understand.”
They exchanged an awkward goodbye. Maude closed the door of his office for the last time.
Open the door, Maudey…
Too late now.
Maude could barely make it up the stairs to the workshop. Her emotions weighed her down, a burden too much to bear.
She paused on the landing, willing herself to smile, or if that wasn’t possible, at least feign some semblance of normal. Above everything, she did not want her friends to know what a fool she’d been.
She entered and was glad everyone was busy with this or that. It gave her a few extra moments to hang up her coat and hat, a few extra moments to collect herself.
But when she turned around, everyone was looking at her.
“What?”
Edna took a step forward. “Where have you been?”
“I had some personal business to attend to.”
Edna’s head shook back and forth. “That’s not an acceptable answer. Not after you came home early from your mother’s, wouldn’t talk to me, and barely said two words this morning.”
“What happened at your mother’s?” Annie asked.
“Nothing. My mother is fine.” Maude draped a dress across her lap and threaded a needle to sew on buttons.
“We didn’t ask about your mother,” Vesta said. “You aren’t fine.”
Henrietta took the dress from her, removing its shield of busyness. “Tell us.”
And then it happened, something that had not happened in years.
Maude burst into tears. Not just tears, but sobs that made it hard for her to breathe.
Her friends fluttered around her, bringing her a handkerchief, a glass of water, and a calming hand to her back. She appreciated their efforts but hated the attention.
“I’m sorry. This is ridiculous. I don’t ever cry.”
“It’s true. I’ve never seen you cry,” Annie said. “Not even when the Titanic went down and we realized how close we’d come to death.”
Maude forced herself to take deeper breaths. “Long ago I realized crying does little good.”
“I disagree with that,” Vesta said. “Sometimes crying is very good and is exactly what’s needed.”
Maude remembered that Vesta had gone home with Richard last night. Was she referring to herself? Last night? “How are you? Did everything go well at home?”
“Very well, thank you.” But Vesta would not be deterred. “My point is that you are allowed to cry. We simply want to know why.”
“Something happened at your mother’s,” Edna said. “You didn’t stay for dinner.”
“No dinner? Why not?” Annie asked.
Maude knew they would not give her peace until she told them. “Antonio was there.”
“How nice,” Henrietta said. “I didn’t know your mother knew him.”
“Hans does. Their paths crossed, and Antonio told him we’d found a place to rent. Mother took it upon herself to play matchmaker, even though—”
Edna chuckled. “It worked with Steven and Henrietta.”
“But did not work for me and Antonio.”
“Why not?”
It was best to spell it out. “Because I was totally and absolutely rude to him. Before dinner even started I stood up and made a grand pronouncement against marriage, defaming my mother for trying to find me a husband when I have vowed never to marry.”
“Oh,” Edna said.
“How did he react?”
“He was suitably appalled and embarrassed.”
“I know we are guilty of teasing you, shoving you two together romantically,” Edna said. “But perhaps you can be friends.”
Maude shook her head, the morning’s memories raw. “I am late for work because I went to his office to apologize.”
“Did he accept?”
“Technically, yes. But he has no desire to be my friend.”
“Oh dear,” Edna said.
“You’ve hurt each other’s feelings,” Annie said. “That happens.”
“Well then,” Henrietta said. “The space is rented. Your connection with him is over. You don’t have to see him again.”
Maude shook her head. “You don’t understand. I want to see him again.”
“But you said—”
“I know what I said. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve fallen in love with him.”
Silence.
“Oh, Maude,” Annie said. “What are you going to do?”
“There’s nothing I can do. I’ve insulted him horribly.”
“You said he forgave you.”
&nbs
p; She blew her nose. “It doesn’t matter. I still can’t marry anyone, so my love can have no happy ending.”
“It could…” Henrietta said.
Maude shook her head adamantly. “It can’t. I ruined everything. On the way to the dinner God spurred me to ask for His help, but I ignored it. I took matters into my own hands and spoiled everything that was good. God had opened a door for me with Antonio—a door that had never been opened before with any other man. But I didn’t walk through it. I slammed it shut.”
“And now you wish it was open?”
“I do.”
“Then open it.”
“I tried, but Antonio locked it for good.” She sighed with her entire body, her shoulders rising and falling in despair. “I had come to terms with never loving, never marrying. I was given a chance but now am back where I started. I deserve to be alone.”
Although the ladies tried to cheer her, Maude gave the sobs free rein.
Perhaps it was fitting. Lost love deserved a proper show of grief.
Annie and Edna exited the streetcar near their new shop, each holding a dress draped over their arms—a dress that had an Unruffled label sewn inside.
“I hope this works,” Edna said for the umpteenth time.
“Why would they refuse?” Annie replied. She pointed to the store closest to Unruffled, a milliner’s shop called Helen’s Hats.
A bell rang on the door when they came in—a nice touch that Annie wanted to remember for their own shop. The store was lovely, with hats displayed on numerous counters. Plumes, flowers, and ribbons galore.
“Hello, ladies,” said a woman behind the counter. “May I interest you in our newest chapeau?” She pointed to a head-hugging hat made of velveteen.
“Actually,” Annie said, extending her hand. “We’d like to introduce ourselves. I am Annie Culver, and this is Edna Holmquist. We are opening a shop down the street. Our stores are going to be neighbors.” She pointed to the north.
“I’m Helen Dobbins. Nice to meet you.” She shook their hands. “I heard the space was rented. What sort of shop?”
“A dress shop.”
“Unruffled,” Edna said. “Fashion for the Unruffled, Unveiled, Unstoppable Woman.”
Helen giggled. “How delightful. I thought of naming my shop something creative like Hats Off, but my husband told me I needed to use my name like most of the other shops do.”
“We discussed that too,” Annie said.
“And decided to be bold and do something different,” Edna added.
“I commend your choice.” Helen pointed at the dresses. “Are these some of your wares?”
“They are.”
Annie and Edna showed off the two dresses, heralding their comfort and fashionable lines.
“The price point?” Helen asked.
“Five to ten dollars.” Annie was interested in her reaction.
“I think that’s very reasonable. How long will it take once a dress is ordered?”
Annie beamed. “We will have dresses offered in most sizes, on the rack, ready to purchase and wear the same day.”
Helen clapped gleefully. “How marvelous!” She moved to a counter and brought back a blue straw hat with orange flowers on the sweeping rim. “Look how this hat complements this dress.”
Annie could not have orchestrated the moment any better. “Your point is a good one. Which is why we are here. What if we display some of your hats in our store and give you a dress or two to display here?”
“Oooh,” Helen said, her eyes wide. “Both our businesses would surely benefit.”
“That is the intent.”
“I would be happy to participate,” Helen said. “When do you plan to open?”
“We are hoping for Saturday, November 30th.”
“Just in time for Christmas.”
“Again, that is the intent.”
Helen chose another hat to go with the second dress. “Lovely, just lovely.” She held a finger in the air, as if announcing an idea. “What if I did something special on the day of your opening? Perhaps we could coordinate an event.”
Annie remembered a past idea. “I was thinking about having a fashion show, right here on the street.”
Helen beamed. “Outside where everyone can see. What a unique idea. Of course, only if the weather allows.”
“We could put up posters,” Edna said. “Draw a crowd.”
Annie hugged Edna, and Helen joined in.
Annie and Edna waited for the streetcar, exhausted but happy with their afternoon’s work.
“Stabler’s will show their jewelry; Meindorff’s their shoes; O’Hanna’s will show their parasols, purses, and hosiery; and Helen her hats.”
“And they all agreed to a Fashion Parade,” Edna said. She sat on a bench, laying both dresses across its back. “I should have purchased a fan at O’Hanna’s. All this exertion has me glowing.”
Annie laughed. “We should have bought two. You may be glowing, but I’m sweating.” She spotted a man walking close and hoped he hadn’t heard her crude terminology. He must be waiting for the streetcar too.
But then…
He grabbed the dresses from the bench, wadded them under his arm, and raced off.
“Stop! He stole our dresses! Thief!”
Passersby looked alarmed but simply stepped out of his way, though one did shout out, “Police!”
Annie began to run after him but was quickly reminded of the baby when she felt a stitch in her side. She stopped.
Edna caught up with her and helped her back to the bench. Moments later a police officer appeared.
“Are you all right, miss?”
“No, I’m not all right. A man stole our dresses.”
He looked confused, for of course, both of them were wearing dresses.
“Two dresses we had on hangers. We’d draped them over the back of the bench.”
He wrote down their names and addresses, and a brief description of the clothes and the man, but the latter description was minimal. Dark hair, medium height, thirty. Plus, he was a fast runner.
The officer closed his notepad. “If we find the dresses, I will contact you.”
“What are the chances of that?” Edna asked.
He shrugged. “Slim to none. He’ll probably be selling them on Mulberry Street by evening. Is there anything else I can do for you ladies?”
As opposed to doing nothing?
The streetcar arrived, taking them home.
Henrietta tucked Annie into bed. “Sean will be back from Edna’s with some dinner for you momentarily.” She sat on the edge. “It’s just two dresses, Annie. They can be replaced.”
She’d heard the same from everyone, yet Annie had questions. “Why do we encounter one problem after another? First, the Sampsons bow out, then we have no money, then we get money from you, then you have no more money and we almost lose our shop space, and then—”
“Stop it. Listen to yourself. Every issue was resolved, one by one.”
“Stolen dresses can’t be resolved. Even the bobby said the dresses would be sold on the street. They’re gone. We’ll never get them back.”
“No, we won’t. But we will go on. God hasn’t failed us yet.”
Annie let her head sink deeper into the pillows. She stroked her abdomen, a new habit and her way of comforting the baby. And herself.
“You should never have run after him.”
“I didn’t think. And no one else was running. Where was my hero?”
“Busy elsewhere, I guess. We’ll remake the dresses tomorrow.”
Annie closed her eyes. It wasn’t just the dresses. Her exhaustion was due to much more than that. “Sometimes…sometimes I just wish I could be by myself, only responsible for me.”
“You wish to be alone?”
“Sometimes.”
“Sorry, my dear, but that’s not possible.” Henrietta pointed to Annie’s midsection.
“Oh. Yes.”
“Oh. Yes. That. A baby. There i
s no greater responsibility than a child.”
Annie sighed. “You’re not helping.”
“Making you see reason is helping.”
She was right. Annie loved the baby so much her heart physically ached from it. “I didn’t mean what I said. About being alone.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“But the business…it overwhelms me sometimes.”
“I know that too. But we have much to be thankful for. The other businesses agreed to your idea, and we’re having a Fashion Parade. How marvelous.”
It was. But Annie was in no mood to think of the positive.
“You’re not smiling,” Henrietta said.
Annie sighed. “This is going to sound totally ungrateful, and terribly cowardly, but sometimes I wish I was still a housemaid.”
“You wish to make the beds, scrub the bathtub, and polish the furniture from dawn to dusk?”
“Not that part of it.”
“Then what part is better than the life you have now?”
“The part where I had little responsibility. The part where I was told what to do each morning and didn’t have to think beyond making the beds and polishing the silver. The part where I wasn’t in charge of making decisions. The part where I didn’t mentally take my work home with me at the end of the day.”
“But that wasn’t enough for you. You’ve always gone above and beyond what was asked. You set your sights on being my lady’s maid, not just a housemaid. You did skilled sewing work, altered my clothes, and beaded Mother’s gowns. To just do ‘enough’ is not in you, Annie Wood Culver. You are not satisfied with enough. You want more.”
Annie huffed at her own faulty memories. “You’re right. I want more. I want it all.”
“Then you will have it.”
Annie scoffed. “You say it with such assurance.”
“If it is what God wants for you, you will have it, and nothing you do or anyone else does can stop it.” Henrietta grew pensive. “God has given both of us something very precious: choices. Neither one of us had many choices in our before-lives. Our futures were set. Now, we are free to choose…choose so many things.”
Annie sat up in bed. Henrietta adjusted the pillows behind her.
“Why can’t it be easy?”
“It can be.” Henrietta thought a moment. “Actually it was for you.”