The Artisan's Wife

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The Artisan's Wife Page 20

by Judith Miller


  “I’m glad to hear that. I understand you likely will never visit the asylum after you return to Grafton, but if you could spread the word to others that neither the patients nor the facility is a place to be feared, it might help banish some of the myths. People still equate this facility with those overcrowded jail cells used to house the insane in times past. I hope we’ll never see a return to those conditions, for a place like this is much more humane.”

  “True, but what will happen when these new asylums become overcrowded?” Laura asked. “Without enough facilities, might we see a return to the horror of the past? The only remedy will be to build additional facilities, but that becomes an issue of money.”

  Dr. Thorenson stood near the door leading into the staff room. “Did I overhear you ladies discussing financial matters?” He gestured for them to enter the room.

  As the aroma of baked chicken drifted toward them, Ainslee’s stomach rumbled. “My sister-in-law expressed concern that these new asylums may become overcrowded and the patients poorly cared for if there isn’t adequate funding to construct enough facilities.”

  The doctor led them to a long cloth-covered table on which platters and bowls of food had been arranged. “The meal is self-service. We’ll begin at the other end, where you’ll find the plates and silverware.” He gestured for Ainslee to take the lead.

  When they’d filled their plates and were seated at one of the dining tables, the doctor filled their glasses with water. “May I pray before our meal?”

  He looked back and forth between the two ladies. Both of them nodded their agreement.

  After he’d finished the brief prayer, he turned his attention to Laura. “It does my heart good to know there are at least a few people beyond those who work in the asylums who realize we will soon be confronted by the same overcrowding problems we’ve experienced in the past. Unlike the jails where patients were previously confined, we do provide both mental and physical care for our patients. Unfortunately, we’re already housing more patients than this facility was constructed to accommodate. We do have a group of doctors advocating to the state legislature for additional funds to build more asylums, but it’s doubtful the idea will progress beyond a few minor discussions.”

  The doctor unfolded his napkin. “Tell me, Mrs. McKay, what do you think of our asylum? This is your first visit, and I’m always eager to hear what new visitors have to say.”

  “To be honest, it took every ounce of courage I could muster to enter. Had Mr. Judson not elicited a promise from me beforehand, I wouldn’t have stepped inside the front doors.” Laura cut into a piece of chicken. “Now, however, I’m glad that I didn’t refuse. I can see that you’re doing good work, and the ladies working in the library have helped me see there’s nothing to fear.”

  The doctor smiled. “Fear can be a good thing or a bad thing. God gave us the instinct of fear to protect ourselves, but occasionally our fears can be illogical. Some of my patients have developed unfounded fears that have caused them to become completely incapacitated. Attempting to treat them is most difficult.”

  Laura wiped the corners of her mouth with her linen napkin. “Then I owe Mr. Judson a great deal of thanks for helping me overcome my fears before I ended up as one of your patients, Dr. Thorenson.”

  The doctor smiled and shook his head. “I don’t think there’s any chance you’d ever be in need of my professional help, Mrs. McKay, but I’m glad this visit has helped you set aside your anxiety.”

  A sense of relief washed over Ainslee. During the past few hours, all of her worry had been swept away.

  A feeling of accomplishment swelled in Ainslee’s heart as she entered the asylum the following day. She and Laura, along with Nettie and several of the patients who’d received special permission, had returned after supper to complete logging as many books as possible. When the hour had grown late, they’d accepted the task couldn’t be completed before morning. With no other choice, they’d discontinued logging and shelved the remaining books along one side of the library. Although it hadn’t given Ainslee pleasure to leave the task incomplete, all of them had been weary when they’d finally departed the library.

  This morning, her feelings of discontent had vanished. There would be time to complete any unfinished tasks over the coming weeks. Today was a day to celebrate what had been accomplished rather than dwell upon what remained to be done.

  Dr. Thorenson greeted her when she stepped through the front entrance. “This is an exciting day, Miss McKay.” He peered over her shoulder toward the front steps. “I expected to see your sister-in-law. She is coming, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, but we worked until late last night. I insisted she need not return this morning since we won’t be logging any books today.” They stepped inside the library, and she gestured to the bookcases along the north wall. “We shelved all of the unlogged books in those bookcases. The ladies can help me complete our list in the future.” She glanced toward the hallway. “I wasn’t certain when your staff would begin to set up the room. The ladies and I didn’t want to be in the way.”

  “You could never be in the way, Miss McKay, but I appreciate your thoughtfulness.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Since you’re here, I wonder if you would consider overseeing the arrangement of the room. When I asked the asylum staff for a volunteer to take charge of the ceremony, Miss Mardel offered.”

  “That’s so sweet of her.” Ainslee said, thinking about Miss Mardel’s quick change of heart toward the library after Ainslee had hurt her hand.

  “Yes, and she had a committee of ladies helping her to plan it. But this morning I received a note that she is ill.” He sighed. “I dislike asking you. This should be a day for you to enjoy, yet I don’t know who else to ask.”

  Though she hadn’t planned to remain at the library all morning, Ainslee couldn’t permit Miss Mardel’s absence to ruin the day. A cancellation would disappoint far too many invited guests as well as the patients who had helped Ainslee log so many of the books.

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Dr. Thorenson beamed at her. “I knew I could count on you.” He rushed toward the doors. “I’ll send some of the committee ladies to help right away.”

  Though she wasn’t certain what Miss Mardel had planned, Ainslee made a quick assessment of the room and decided the head table should be placed at the far end of the room. That way, smaller tables could be scattered throughout the remainder of the room and guests could come and go at their leisure. A head table was irregular at a tea, but the doctor had insisted upon the idea since he wanted to present Laura with an award and the administrator wanted to make a few introductory statements. She hoped those attending would enjoy the added festivities. However, she feared most guests attending the tea would likely expect a tour of the new library and light refreshments rather than lengthy speeches.

  Appearing somewhat frazzled, the committee members arrived a short time later. Ainslee took a seat at the desk and bid the ladies sit down. She offered a bright smile that she hoped would alleviate the ladies’ unease. “One by one, please tell me what duty you’ve been assigned and if you’ve accomplished your task.”

  Ainslee jotted down notes as each lady reported. When the final woman had given her account, Ainslee stood and stepped to the front of the desk. “Even without Miss Mardel’s oversight, I believe we’re going to host a tea that won’t soon be forgotten.”

  With the ease of a seasoned hostess, she told each of the ladies when she needed them to return and what items they should bring with them.

  The head cook stood. “I can handle the kitchen duties without being instructed, Miss McKay. The menu was planned weeks ago. You signal when it’s time for my staff to serve the tea.” She gestured toward the hallway. “Right now, I gotta get back to the kitchen and see to lunch for the patients.”

  Ainslee nodded. “For now, I believe you all can return to your work duties. I’ll see if I can arrange for some of the aides who work in the men’s wing to help
set up tables.”

  “I’ll stop and tell their supervisor on my way back to the kitchen,” the cook said as she departed. “He’ll see that a few of them get over here in no time.”

  Ainslee called out her thanks, picked up her list, and dropped into one of the chairs.

  Ainslee glanced at the clock and then hurried to the foyer to meet Levi and Laura. She had sent a note to Levi earlier in the day explaining her absence from work and asking that they arrive a half hour early. Laura appeared in a stylish suit of striped camel’s-hair in variegated shades of brown and trimmed with a band of caroubier red braid, and Levi had donned his white shirt, black woolen sack coat, and matching trousers.

  Ainslee tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and swiped her hand down the front of her skirt. “I should have allowed time to return to the boardinghouse and change into something more appropriate, but . . .”

  Levi drew near her side. “You look perfect no matter what you’re wearing.”

  Heat seared her cheeks. “Thank you, but I don’t think that’s entirely true.” She ducked her head. “Come with me. I want you two to see the library before anyone else.”

  Laura gasped when she pushed open the doors. “It’s beautiful, Ainslee. You’ve transformed it into a stylish tea room, but guests can still see what a wonderful library you’ve created.”

  “I’m glad you like it, Laura, but it took many people to create this library—and the tea room.”

  Over the past six hours, many of the asylum workers had come to her aid. Some helping arrange tables and chairs, some spreading linens on the tables, some assembling the beautiful floral arrangements that bedecked each table, some draping sheer pale blue fabric on the head table, and some preparing the serving table.

  Dr. Thorenson and the other staff members soon trickled into the library, all of them astounded by the transformation. A short time later, invited guests arrived and Dr. Thorenson escorted Laura to the front table.

  He then returned to Ainslee’s side. “You’ll be seated next to the administrator at the front table. May I escort you?”

  “No.” She shook her head, but when the doctor appeared shocked by her refusal, she hastened to explain. “I prefer to sit with Levi at one of the small tables, where I can help serve, if needed.”

  The doctor lightly grasped her elbow. “There are others who can serve. Your place is at the head table.”

  She turned to Levi, hoping he would take up her cause. Instead, he agreed with the doctor. “You’ve put much time and effort into this library, Ainslee. You should go with the doctor.”

  With a sigh, she took the doctor’s arm and was seated alongside the administrator. Moments later, he pushed to his feet and a hush fell over the room. Ainslee blushed as he lauded her for her tremendous accomplishment. “Though it is very little compared to your efforts, Miss McKay, we are commemorating this room as the Ainslee McKay Library.”

  Her breath caught as she attempted to hold back her tears. “I am deeply honored, but please know that many others contributed to the successful completion of this project.”

  The administrator nodded. “Indeed, that’s true, but without your leadership it would never have happened.”

  Her heart swelled with joy—not because of the honor, but because she’d been able to accomplish something that she hoped would help the patients on their path to recovery.

  The administrator then called upon Dr. Thorenson, who surprised Laura with a certificate of appreciation. “Mrs. McKay, along with many of her friends and relatives, donated a good portion of the books that line the shelves of this library. We could not let her contribution go without recognition.”

  Though she appeared somewhat embarrassed by the recognition, Laura graciously accepted the certificate on behalf of the people who had generously given books to the library. She then gestured toward the serving table and smiled. “I do believe we’ll be drinking cold tea if we prolong the festivities any longer.”

  Applause filled the room as the guests made their way to the serving table. Levi stepped close to Ainslee’s side. “I’m very proud of you.”

  His praise sent a thrill of pleasure pulsing through her veins.

  Chapter 21

  Dirt flew from beneath her black leather shoes as Ainslee rushed across the courtyard toward the clay shop. Waving an envelope overhead and panting for breath, she glanced around the cutting room until she spotted Levi. “Come to the office!”

  Taking long strides, Levi closed the distance between them. The moment he reached her side, she matched his gait. He looked down at her. “The contract from Mr. Harrington?”

  “I’m sure it must be. I didn’t open it. I want us to read it together.”

  He chuckled and lightly grasped her arm. “I know you’re excited, but you can slow down a little. Whatever’s in that envelope isn’t going to change by the time we get to the office.”

  “I know, but ever since his telegram arrived, saying we’d be receiving a final contract, I’ve hardly been able to sleep.” Ainslee tucked her head against an unexpected breeze that swirled through the courtyard. “The use of these tiles in the museum is going to bring us new business, and I believe it will also bring you the recognition you deserve as an artisan.” She grinned. “As well as a raise in wages.”

  After their meeting with Mr. Harrington, Ewan had promised Levi that if the mosaics became profitable for the tile works, he would substantially increase the young man’s pay.

  Levi pulled open the door. “Let’s not worry about my wages until we see where all of this leads us. The contract may only stipulate the minimum amount he agreed to.”

  Ainslee crossed the room at breakneck speed, dropped to her chair, and ripped open the envelope without taking time to use a letter opener. Levi pulled a chair to her side. A letter accompanied the contract and she pushed it toward Levi. “You read the letter while I scan the contents of the contract.”

  Within moments, she let out a whoop that startled Levi. He lost his hold on the letter and it sailed to the floor. Leaning over the arm of the chair, he quickly retrieved the missive. “Was that a shout of delight or disappointment?”

  “A shout of delight! Mr. Harrington has elected to use the figures submitted in our number one bid.”

  Levi blew out a loud whoosh. “We’re going to be extremely busy. We’ll need more men. I’ve begun training Robert and Joseph whenever they have a bit of spare time, but we’ll need men dedicated to working on nothing but the mosaics, and I’ll need time to train them.”

  Ainslee immediately agreed. “And we’ll need additional materials, as well.” They’d submitted a proposal containing four different bids to Mr. Harrington. The number-one bid called for the highest number of mosaics per room, while each additional bid contained a diminishing number. Had he rejected all of their bids and decided to honor only their base agreement, Levi might have been able to perform the clay work on his own. But even that would have depended upon how much time he would have before the project required installation of the tiles.

  “What does the letter say?” She craned her neck toward the letter she’d handed to Levi.

  “Before I dropped it, I’d read only the first few lines that stated he was pleased to offer us a contract for additional mosaic tiles.” He quickly examined the remaining paragraphs. “He says that the newspapers in Wheeling and Pittsburgh published articles about the tiles several weeks ago, and they are accepting bids for construction of the building.” He traced his finger along the final paragraph. “There’s no set date for the completion of the museum, but he asks that we move forward with production so that there will be no delay when the tiles are needed.”

  Ainslee returned her attention to the contract and passed along each page to Levi for his review. While pointing to the second-to-last page, she stopped and tapped Levi’s arm. “There’s a paragraph here that says none of the designs used in this project may be reproduced for any other customer. Is that agreeable to you?”
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br />   Levi rubbed the back of his neck and leaned back in the chair. “As long as he’s talking about an exact replica, but I won’t agree if he means that I can never portray a cobbler or Plymouth Rock or the Ten Commandments in any of my tiles. We need to clarify exactly what he means by the ‘designs used in this project.’ I’m willing to give him my word that I won’t use any of his specific designs for another customer, but I don’t want to destroy the molds or the enlarged drawings used when we cut the clay. If there should be any breaks, we want both the molds and the drawings so we can reproduce the pieces for him. Once we explain the need to keep the designs, I think he’ll understand.”

  “He would have the right to sue if we breached the contract in any way, so I’m sure he won’t insist upon destruction of those items. I do think I need to rewrite this paragraph so that it’s clear to all of us and then I can send it back to him.” She waited patiently while Levi continued to read the remainder of the contract.

  When he’d finished reading the final page, he rested his elbow on the desk. “I would like to make one more request of Mr. Harrington. If he refuses, I would still want to move forward with the contract, but it would give me great pleasure if he’d place a plaque in the center room that would indicate the tiles were produced at the McKay Tile Works, and perhaps Noah’s name could be listed as designer of the tiles in the entry hall.”

  “I doubt there will be any objection to such a request. However, I want your name listed as a designer, as well. I admire your love and dedication to Noah, but I believe he would want you to be acknowledged, as well.”

  “I asked because I think Noah needs the affirmation, but if you think it’s best to list both of us, I won’t argue.”

 

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