Ellen put her hand on her sister’s shoulder. “I’ll go look. Where are the potatoes?”
“I don’t know!”
“They’re probably in the cellar too. Let’s go down and see what’s there.” Ellen moved the small rug on the floor, and just as she’d thought, there was the trap door to the cellar. “Grab a lantern.”
Malinda got a lantern and they went down into the dark cellar together. Ellen looked around her and smiled. “Good. You have a lot of foods down here. Alice told me she sent canned goods home with Wesley every fall and wasn’t certain if he’d eaten them.” There were shelves piled full of fruits and vegetables that had been canned and several bins with vegetables in them.
Ellen went through and looked at each of the jars, noting that each had the date when they were canned written on them. She picked up a jar of green beans that had been canned the previous fall and handed it to her sister. Then she found a large bin of potatoes and picked out five large ones. “This will be enough for just the two of you.”
Ellen had borrowed an apron before starting the dishes, so she carried the potatoes up the stairs in the skirt of her apron as her mother had taught her to do as a small girl. When they reached the top, she started peeling the potatoes while carefully explaining to Malinda how to fry a chicken. It would have been easier to do it herself, but she wanted Malinda to be able to do it the next time.
Once the potatoes were on to boil, she put the green beans on the stove, and then walked through the small house, looking for other ways to help her sister. While Malinda fried the chicken, Ellen made both of the beds and picked up the dirty clothes both of them had just tossed on the floor. She was so happy to have something to do she didn’t even scold Malinda for leaving the house in such a sorry state.
She walked back into the kitchen just as Malinda was removing the last of the chicken from the frying pan. “Now all you need to do is mash the potatoes, and make some gravy.”
Malinda stared at her in horror. “Gravy?”
Ellen showed her how to make a simple gravy using the grease that was still in the frying pan. “Now you have a feast,” Ellen told Malinda as she poured the prepared gravy into a bowl. “I’m going to go home now. You make things right with your husband.” She hugged her sister tightly. “Make sure he knows that you care about him. It’s important.”
“Will you come back after lunch?” Malinda looked at the clock. “Say around two? I might need more help.”
Ellen nodded slowly. “I’d be happy to, but only to show you how to do things. Neither of our husbands will be happy if I come over here every day to cook and clean when you’re supposed to be doing it.”
Ellen had a spring in her step as she walked home. At least for a little while she had something she could do to fill her days.
Patrick was late for dinner again that evening, but she didn’t mind as much, because she’d had something to fill her day. Once Malinda had figured out what to do around her own house, it was going to be frustrating that he was always gone.
They sat down to eat at eight-thirty, and he reminded her again she didn’t have to wait for him to eat. “You can always start without me. I feel bad that you wait for me every night.”
She shrugged. “I’d rather eat with you than eat alone. I’m used to having family around at mealtimes.” She really hated the idea of eating alone, but she wasn’t sure why. She could read a book while she ate to keep herself occupied, but she had a hard time doing it. She had eaten lunch in the kitchen so she could talk to Alice while she ate.
“Speaking of meals, I need to host a small dinner party on Friday night. I’m trying to make an arrangement with a bank in Denver that would allow our clients to do business there, and theirs to do business here. I want to have the president and vice-president of their bank, as well as the vice president of mine and all their wives for dinner. It doesn’t have to be anything elaborate, and Alice will be able to help you, but I’ll need you to plan it.”
Ellen nodded slowly. “I’ve never done anything like that, but I’ll do my best.” She was suddenly nervous thinking about her first real job as his hostess.
He squeezed her hand. “I’ll never ask for anything more.”
“Are you working tonight?” She held her breath while she waited for his answer, expecting him to spend all night in his office just as he had the evening before.
He shook his head. “Not tonight. I got everything I needed to do done at the bank today.”
She smiled, relieved. It would be nice to have his undivided attention for a change. “Would you like to sit on the back porch?” She hoped they could remember how much they cared about one another if they went back to the situation they’d been in so often while they were courting.
He nodded his eyes weary. “I’d like that.”
“You’re not too tired?” She eyed him worriedly. He looked exhausted, and she realized he’d been up late working, and had risen early to go into work again. Should she just suggest he go off to bed?
“I’ll be fine.” He pushed away from the table and took her hand, leading her out to the porch. “What did you do today?”
“I went to visit my sister, and she was in a panic because Wesley told her he wanted fried chicken for lunch, and although we’ve made it together probably a hundred times, she had no clue how to do it. She’d just helped me.” She grinned as she told him the story, holding onto his arm as they walked to the back of the house.
He laughed. “So did you do it for her?”
“No, I made her do it, but I explained each step and wrote them down for her. Now she’ll be able to do it herself next time.” She was glad to be needed, but she knew her sister needed to be self-sufficient, and she’d do everything she could to get her there.
“Good.” He sat on the swing and pulled her down beside him. “Sounds like you had an exciting day.”
She shrugged. “I’m just glad there was something to do. It was nice to help her with the housework because I felt useful for a change.” She knew she shouldn’t complain about being the wife to a rich man and having servants, but she couldn’t help it. She hated sitting around idle.
“Well, now you have a dinner party to plan.”
“I hope I do all right at that. Do you know what you want for dinner?” What was she supposed to serve at a dinner party? Hopefully Alice would have some ideas about how he liked to do things.
“I have no idea. Whatever you feel like having Alice fix, I guess.”
She rested her head against his shoulder looking out over the garden. “I’ll figure something out. How formal do you want it to be?” She hoped it wouldn’t have to be terribly formal because she wasn’t sure how she would manage that.
“It needs to be very formal. We’ll need to hire maids to help serve the meal. It needs to be perfect.”
“I hope I can manage perfect.” She stifled a yawn. “I’ll talk to Alice about it first thing in the morning. I’m sure she’ll have some ideas.” What would she do without Alice? She seemed to know exactly what to do about everything. She was so glad the woman was there to help her.
“She will. We’ve done this a couple of times before.”
“Okay.” They sat in silence for a few moments simply enjoying being together and listening to the sound of the Colorado night.
“Are you tired?” he asked.
She nodded. “I’m always up before the sun comes up. Once a farm girl, always a farm girl.” She stifled a yawn behind her hand.
“Well, go on up to bed. I’ll be up in a minute.”
Ellen stood up and walked up the stairs. She quickly changed into her nightgown and got into bed. Within minutes, he was there, stripping and climbing into bed beside her. She turned into his arms, happy to be able to be with him again.
After they’d made love, he fell asleep immediately, and she lay in his arms staring at the ceiling. She hoped she could do a good enough job on the dinner party. Malinda would have been thrilled to get to entertain a
group of rich men and their wives. She couldn’t help but wonder if they’d made a mistake by marrying the men they did. She was much more suited to doing housework and cooking than her sister was, and Malinda was more suited to dinner parties and being idle. She sighed. She could do what she needed to do. She loved Patrick, and she wasn’t going to give him up because he expected her to do things that weren’t what she was used to.
*****
The week seemed to speed by. Every morning she went to her sister’s house to help her with her chores. Malinda seemed much happier, but Ellen didn’t feel like it was her place to know the intimate details of her sister’s marriage, so she didn’t ask any questions. Between the two of them, they’d get the house clean, just like they always had at home, and Malinda slowly learned how to cook meals for her husband.
Ellen spent the afternoons at home planning the dinner party. She spoke with Mrs. Smith about hiring extra staff for the party, and spent hours with Alice planning the menu. Finally, she was satisfied that everything would be fine, but when it came time to dress for the party, she was wracked by nerves. She was just a simple farmer’s daughter. What did she know about entertaining bankers?
At six on the dot, she went down the stairs to stand beside Patrick and wait for their guests to arrive. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and felt her shaking. “Are you nervous?”
She smiled up at him. “I’m petrified.” She wanted to make a good impression on the others while making him proud. She hoped everything went without a hitch.
He laughed. “It’s all going to be fine. What did you and Alice decide on for dinner?”
“She made a vegetable soup to start, and then we’ll have a special chicken dish she’s assured me will go over well along with asparagus. For dessert she made some raspberry tarts that she’s certain will make a good impression. I hope she’s right.”
“It’s going to be fine. Just be polite and entertain the other ladies, while I talk business with the men. We’ll eat at seven, and everything will go fine.”
She nodded nervously, biting her lip. “I hope so.” She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to forgive herself if she did something wrong that cost him the deal he was trying to make.
The first knock on the door came then, and they greeted their first guests, the president of the bank in Denver, Mr. Ernest, and his wife. Ellen smiled and talked with Mrs. Ernest, inviting her into the parlor to sit and chat. The Ernests were an older couple, in their sixties at least, and seemed very formal to Ellen. She took one of the chairs in the parlor while Mrs. Ernest took the sofa.
“Do you have any children?” Ellen asked.
Mrs. Ernest nodded. “Oh, yes. We have two. Stanley works at the bank with Richard, and Beatrice and her husband have three children. The oldest just married and gave us our first great-grandchild.”
Ellen smiled. “Oh, that’s wonderful. I’ve always wanted to have a large family.”
“How long have you been married? I wasn’t aware that Mr. Harris had taken a wife.”
“We were married on Saturday, so the news hasn’t had time to travel around yet.” She wondered if the older woman would have advice for her on being a banker’s wife.
“Well, you have plenty of time for children then. Enjoy your time alone together.”
The other two women came in then. Mrs. Chandler was the wife of the vice-president of Patrick’s bank, and Ellen had met her at the wedding, so she smiled happily knowing someone there. She introduced herself to the other lady, Mrs. Merryweather.
“Mrs. Harris was just telling me she only got married last Saturday,” Mrs. Ernest told the others.
“Congratulations,” Mrs. Merryweather said, smiling warmly. Mrs. Merryweather looked to be in her thirties, while Mrs. Chandler was closer to Ellen’s own age.
“Thank you.” Ellen hated being in the spotlight, but she knew her new marriage would put her there repeatedly.
Ellen looked at the clock and realized they had fifteen minutes before dinner, so she tried to come up with a topic. “How long have you been married, Mrs. Merryweather?”
The older woman smiled at her. “Oh, seventeen years. That’s a long time to be a banker’s wife.”
Mrs. Ernest nodded. “I’ve been a banker’s wife for over forty years. I think the first five years were the hardest. Never knowing when he’d come home, and eating alone almost every night.”
Mrs. Chandler laughed. “Never knowing when they’ll work all night after they get home and ignore you.”
Ellen’s eyes were wide as she listened to the other women. “I thought it was just me!” She was thrilled to hear that her husband wasn’t meaning to neglect her. He was just doing what all bankers did.
Mrs. Ernest shook her head. “It’s all bankers, my dear. We all joke about being bankers’ widows. It’s like our husbands come home to sleep, but never spend time with us.”
Ellen sighed. “So it’s not going to get any better?” She’d hoped that Patrick would someday be able to spend more time with her, but it sounded like they’d be raising any children they had together alone.
The other women laughed. “Poor Ellen,” Mrs. Chandler said. “You’ll get used to it.”
She saw by the clock it was time to go into dinner. “If you’ll follow me?” She strode toward the dining room. She really wished she’d had a chance to talk to these women in depth before she’d married Patrick. Not that she would have made a different choice, but at least she would have been prepared. She was starting to think the only time he realized he was married was when they were in bed together at night.
She blushed immediately after having that thought as if the others could hear her thoughts. She took the seat at the foot of the table as she’d promised Patrick she would, and the other women grouped around her while the men went to the other end of the table. The women changed their topic to children, and she discovered that Mrs. Chandler had a little girl who was only a year old while Mrs. Merryweather had four children. She’d had three girls and kept trying until she had a boy. “A man needs a boy to carry on the family name.”
For the first time Ellen wondered if her father had been disappointed to only have girls. He’d never said anything if he was.
The other women all seemed to know one another, and Ellen found the job of keeping the conversation going very easy. At times, she would pick up pieces of the topic from the men’s end of the table. They seemed to be having a good time discussing the logistics of the plans they’d made.
As much as Ellen had been dreading the dinner, she felt like she could have a true friend in Elizabeth Chandler and hoped to get to know her better. She was certain, if nothing else, they’d be thrown together over and over socially.
She wondered how Malinda would have fit into the party, and was sad to admit, she would have done a much better job at steering the conversation and keeping the other women occupied. She enjoyed social settings so much more than Ellen did.
After dinner the women once again retired to the parlor, while the men went to Patrick’s study. The women talked about the different things to do in Denver, none of which Ellen had experienced. “There’s a wonderful theatre there. You must go,” Elizabeth told her.
“Yes, you should,” echoed Mrs. Ernest. “And when you do, be sure to let us know, and we can all have dinner at a restaurant there in town.” She smiled. “I’m afraid I don’t entertain as much as I used to. I don’t mind going to dinner parties, but hosting them has become a chore in my old age. I’m ready for Richard to retire so we can just enjoy the grandchildren.”
Ellen smiled. “I’ll make sure we do that. I don’t know how to make sure of it, but I will. Maybe I can offer to drive so he can work along the way.” She did her best to keep a straight face as she made the suggestion.
“That might work!” Mrs. Merryweather laughed.
The Chandlers stayed for a bit after the two other couples had left for the evening. “It does get better,” Elizabeth told Ellen.
“Are you sure?” Ellen hoped it did, because she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life thinking she didn’t matter to her husband.
Elizabeth nodded. “I don’t know if it gets better because they realize they’re ignoring you and spend more time paying attention to you, or if it’s because we get used to it. Either way, in a few months you’ll be fine with it.”
“But what do you do all day?” Ellen knew her voice sounded desperate, but she’d reached a point where if she didn’t have something constructive to do, she would lose her mind.
Elizabeth laughed. “Now that I have Annabelle, I spend my days with her. I take her to the park and we play. I feed her and my life revolves around her nap times.” She shrugged. “Before she was born, I did some volunteer work at the local church. I’d take meals to shut-ins and that sort of thing.”
“I always expected to keep house for a man to cook and clean and use my skills to take care of my home. I feel at a loss. I spend most mornings with my sister, because she’s just learning to cook, but the afternoons are mine. I’ve had this party to plan all week, but I don’t know what I’ll do now.” She really was at a loss for something to do. If she hadn’t been new to town, she would surely have friends to invite over or to go visit, but she’d been there less than two weeks. She only knew a handful of people.
“Why don’t you talk to Patrick about it? I’m sure you can find some sort of volunteer work to do. Or you could redecorate the house.”
Ellen bit her lip as she thought about it. “I did meet some orphans the first week I was here. I could go work with the orphans. Do you know if they need help?” She hadn’t been able to get the orphans out of her mind. She knew taking an active role in their lives was what she wanted more than anything. Hopefully Patrick would agree.
“The orphanage always needs help. They need people to help with the children and to cook and clean. If you’re interested, I think that would be a great place to start.”
“I’ll talk to Patrick about that and see what he thinks. Surely he has to understand that I’ll lose my mind if I sit around doing nothing all day every day. I love being his wife, of course, but I don’t love having nothing to do.”
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