Once she’d finished freshening up, she went back to her room to dress in a burgundy skirt and ivory shirtwaist. She put her hair up, twisting it up into a knot on top of her head in one of the current styles, and made her bed before leaving the room. By the time she arrived downstairs, some of the boarders she’d met the evening before were heading out the door and they wished her well in her search for employment.
“Thank you,” she called as she waved goodbye and entered the empty dining room. She took a plate and began to fill it from the sideboard, choosing a couple of slices of bacon, some scrambled eggs and a biscuit. Just as Violet took a seat at the table, Maida, or maybe it was Gretchen, came in the room. On closer inspection, Violet decided it was Maida. She was a little taller and her hair was a darker shade of blond.
“Good morning, Miss Burton.”
“Good morning, Maida.” Violet knew she got it right when she was rewarded with a smile.
“Did you sleep well last night?” the maid asked.
“I did.”
“Would you like tea or coffee this morning?”
“Tea, please.”
Maida poured her a steaming cup from the silver pot on the sideboard. “Mrs. Heaton asked me to let her know when you came down. She’ll be joining you soon.”
“Wonderful. Maida, do you know where the morning paper might be? I’d like to look over the classifieds.”
Mrs. Heaton walked into the room just then, the newspaper in her hand. “It’s right here, dear. I’ve been looking over them for you.”
Maida poured Mrs. Heaton a cup of tea and set it at her place at the table. “Would you like me to prepare you anything, ma’am?”
Mrs. Heaton glanced at the offerings on the sideboard. “No, thank you, Maida. There is still plenty here to choose from.”
After Maida replaced the pot on the sideboard and left the room, Mrs. Heaton handed Violet the paper. “There are several positions you might be interested in, dear. If you see anything you want to apply for, I’ll be glad to accompany you on Monday to put in applications. However, I hope you will let yourself rest this weekend. Besides, some of the other boarders might come back with news about openings in their companies this evening.”
“That would be wonderful.” Violet took the folded New York Tribune Mrs. Heaton handed her. “I’m sure I will take you up on the offer to go with me on Monday. I wouldn’t have the faintest idea on where anything is located.”
“I thought you might enjoy a ride around town today so that I can show you several of the places you might want to apply at on Monday—if you see anything that appeals to you.”
Remembering the terrible traffic of the day before, Violet didn’t exactly look forward to getting out in it again, but she did want to see the city. While Mrs. Heaton filled her plate, Violet looked at some of the circled entries. There were several requests for shopkeeper positions, a straw-hat presser—whatever that was—and an opening for a correspondent. Those were the only ones Mrs. Heaton had circled, but Violet’s gaze skimmed the rest. A lady wanted a person to do writing for her at home; another wanted a companion, but that meant living at the residence, and Violet knew she wouldn’t want to do that.
She liked being right here. When she’d awakened this morning, it’d been quite comforting to know that she was in the home of someone she was acquainted with, someone she could call a friend.
“What do you think? Do any of those positions sound good to you?” Mrs. Heaton took her seat at the table.
“I’m not sure appealing to me is the important thing,” Violet said. “I need work, so most likely I’ll accept any decent position I’m offered.”
“Don’t feel you must rush into employment, Violet. I’d prefer you take your time and find something you believe you’ll be happy at. One good thing about the Butterick position is that you’d know someone who works there, and you’d have company for the trips to and from work.”
“But we don’t know if that is still open, do we?”
“You didn’t see it?” Mrs. Heaton jumped up and came over to her. “Oh, dear, it’s on the top of the next page.”
She took the paper from Violet and turned the page. There, at the top, was circled: “Pattern cutter/Pattern folder wanted. No experience necessary. Will train. Apply at 555 Broadway Monday through Friday, 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m.”
Violet looked up at Mrs. Heaton. “Oh, yes, I would like to apply there. They’re willing to train me and that is exactly what I need.”
“And once you are established here and meet more people, if this position isn’t one you like, it will be easier to find another one. You’ll know your way around the city and you’ll have a résumé.”
Violet couldn’t help but chuckle. “You speak as if I already have this position. It may be filled by Monday.”
“I don’t think so. But we won’t know until then. In the meantime, I’ll show you around so that you can see where some of these places are. We’ll be on our way as soon as we finish breakfast.”
“Where is it you are off to so early in the day, Mother?”
Violet’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of Michael striding into the room.
Even Mrs. Heaton seemed surprised to see her son. “Michael, I thought you left for work over an hour ago. What are you doing back home?”
* * *
“Good morning, Mother.” Michael gave his mother a kiss on the cheek and grinned at Violet. “Good morning to you, too, Violet. I hope you slept well.”
“I did, thank you.”
“Michael, you haven’t answered my question.”
“I’m sorry, Mother. I did go to the office and I telephoned Butterick from there and found that they are indeed hiring, but they only take applications Monday through—”
“Friday.” His mother laughed. “Well, I could have told you that!”
“How could you have known?”
“I read the paper this morning,” she answered, waving it at him.
“So that is where it was!” He laughed. “I looked all over for it.”
His mother grinned. “It was in my study. I’m sorry. It appears we’re both anxious to find something for Violet.”
Michael poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot Maida had left on the sideboard. He took his seat at the table and smiled at Violet. “Now that Mother has you here, she wants to make sure you stay.”
“I have no plans to go anywhere other than out to find work,” Violet said. “And I am very grateful to your mother for coming up with a solution for me.”
“I thought we could take a ride around the city this morning so that Violet could get a look at some of the places she might want to apply at on Monday,” his mother said.
“If you don’t mind the company, I’ll escort the two of you.”
“I hate to take you away from your work—”
“We’d love to have your company,” his mother interrupted. “I’ll feel better if you are the one explaining the El and the trolley to Violet.”
“Good. And there is no need to worry about taking me away from my work, Violet. I am fortunate in that I get to set my own work schedule.”
“Then I thank you both. I’ll just go freshen up and be ready when you are,” Violet said.
Michael pulled out her chair for her. Although she’d given in gracefully, he couldn’t really tell if she was pleased or not that he’d be going with them.
“And I will talk to Maida about our dinner tonight,” his mother said.
He pulled out her chair, as well. “All right. But there is no need to rush, ladies. I’ll sit here and have another one of Maida’s biscuits while I wait for you.”
Although Michael could set his own hours, it wasn’t often he took a day off from work, and he was going to enjoy it. He buttered a biscuit, plopped a spoonful of apple jelly in the middle and took a bite. Delicious.
He wasn’t sure exactly why he’d decided to come back home this early. He’d telephoned Butterick when he got to his offi
ce because, for some reason, he didn’t quite trust that Lila would ask about openings at the company. Still, he could have waited until this evening to tell Violet about it; she couldn’t apply there until Monday, anyway.
However, knowing his mother as he did, he was sure that she and Violet would be out and about today. He really was a little concerned about Violet learning her way around the city—after all, it was his mother’s suggestion that brought her here and there was no denying that made him feel personally responsible for her safety. He couldn’t let anything happen to her.
“I’m ready, dear, and I’m sure Violet will be coming down the stairs any moment now. I do appreciate you checking into the Butterick position for her. I’m praying she gets it.”
“So am I.” For his mother’s sake, if not for Violet’s. “You like having her here, don’t you?”
“I do,” his mother answered. “Don’t you?”
Michael hadn’t expected that question, and he wasn’t really sure he could answer it right now. After all, Violet had only been here one night and her presence meant more responsibility for him. But his mother looked so happy this morning, he wasn’t about to tell her any of that. So he chose to be as truthful as he could at the moment. “I want you to be happy, Mother.”
“Thank you, dear. I want the same for you, don’t you know?”
“I—” Footsteps could be heard crossing the foyer and Michael was glad. He took one last sip of coffee and stood just as Violet entered the room.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” Violet said, pulling her gloves on and smiling at them.
She did have a beautiful smile. Michael couldn’t help but smile back. “Not at all. Are you ready to see the city?”
“I am.”
“Then, I’m at your service, ladies.”
Chapter Three
Violet thought it was a beautiful day as they sauntered down the street to Third Avenue, where she assumed they’d find a hack to take them around the city. She couldn’t help but be pleased that Michael had come home to tell her about the Butterick opening and wanted to accompany them today. But she didn’t want to be a burden to either of the Heatons. She hoped she got the job at Butterick. At least that way, she’d have Lila to help her learn her way to work and back, and Michael and his mother wouldn’t be worrying about her.
“Is it a long walk to the Butterick Company from here?” she asked.
“It could be done in around a half hour. But it would be much quicker to take the El or another mode of transportation,” Mrs. Heaton said.
“We’ll be traveling by the El today.” Michael smiled down at her. “I want you to get familiar with the stops and comfortable with getting on and off at the right places.”
While the sound of the traffic she’d witnessed the day before couldn’t be heard from Mrs. Heaton’s boardinghouse, as they got closer to the avenue, the sounds of horses’ hooves and drivers yelling became more and more noticeable. When they reached the corner, Violet pulled up short and inhaled sharply. Somehow the traffic seemed even worse when one was on foot.
“What is it? Is something wrong?” Michael asked, his hand at her back.
Violet put her hand to her throat and expelled a deep breath. She shook her head, but there were no words for what she was seeing or feeling as she watched people from all walks of life hurrying along the busy thoroughfare, some even crossing the street, dodging the horse-drawn vehicles as best they could. And that had to be taking their lives in their own hands, because there seemed to be every kind of vehicle imaginable, and some Violet had never seen before, racing up and down the street. Then she heard a train and had to look up to see it. There, high above the traffic down below, was the El. Mrs. Heaton had pointed it out to her the day before. She didn’t know whether to laugh or exclaim.
“It’s the traffic, Michael,” Mrs. Heaton said, grasping her hand.
“Of course it is. I’m sorry, Violet. I didn’t realize—it is quite a change from Ashland, isn’t it? But don’t worry. One day you’ll know your way around and the traffic will just seem normal to you.”
Violet hoped so, as she tried to get her breathing back to normal. But she had to admit that as much as it all frightened her, there was something about all the hustle and bustle of this place that exhilarated her and had her heart pounding to keep pace with all the sounds around them.
Michael led her and his mother up to what she supposed was an entry to get on the train, which had stopped only a block away. He handed the man a coin for a ticket, then gave a coin to her and his mother and they did the same. Then they were allowed to go through a turnstile into an area where they waited in front of doors with glass windows until they were allowed to enter the train on the other side.
“Take a window seat, Violet. You’ll see more that way,” Mrs. Heaton said.
Violet sat down and Mrs. Heaton took the seat across from her. Michael sat down beside Violet. A conductor collected their tickets and, as the train took off, Violet couldn’t keep an excited giggle from escaping as she looked down on the street below.
“It is quite something, isn’t it?” Michael asked. “Seeing your reaction reminds us of our own just a few years ago. Mother and I were just as amazed as you are.”
His words made Violet feel better, but she didn’t have time to say so, as he leaned across her and pointed. “Look, there’s City Hall on your left.”
The train stopped just then for some of the passengers to get out and others to get on, and Violet got a good look at where the city government was conducted. Then the train was on its way again. They made a sudden turn and Violet slid closer to Michael. His nearness and the scent of his cologne were hard to ignore as she tried to right herself. Trying to compose herself, she pointed to the tallest building she’d ever seen. “What is that?”
“That is the Tower Building over on Broadway. It’s thirteen stories high and is one of the tallest buildings in the city at present.”
Violet was certain she wouldn’t want to be on the top floor looking down. She shuddered at the mere thought of it.
“We’re on Sixth Avenue now and we’ll get off at the next stop,” Michael explained. “Butterick isn’t far from here.”
“If we have time, I’d love for Violet to at least get a glimpse of the Ladies’ Mile,” his mother suggested.
“The Ladies’ Mile? What is that?” Violet asked as the train came to a stop once more and Michael and his mother both stood. Violet scooted out of her seat, shook her skirts and stood beside Mrs. Heaton in the aisle.
“Oh, my dear, the Ladies’ Mile is blocks and blocks of the most wonderful shops and department stores. Some weekends the girls and I come down just to window-shop. Even if one doesn’t buy anything, it’s the place to go to know what is in style. Besides, several of the shops that need help are there, so it will be helpful if you know where they’re located,” Mrs. Heaton said.
Violet followed them out of the train and down to ground level again. Michael hired a hack and off they went once more.
“Aren’t we going to show her Central Park, Michael? We’ve come this far.”
“Perhaps we can go there tomorrow after Sunday dinner?”
“That is a wonderful idea. She can’t see New York City all in a day, that is for certain.”
As the Heatons talked over her, Violet began to believe she could live here the rest of her life and never see it all. Back on street level, in the traffic of a Saturday morning, Violet once again found herself closing her eyes from time to time as one or another vehicle seemed bound to run into them.
Michael was right. It wasn’t far to Butterick on Broadway. Violet looked up at the building with the signs that said E. Butterick and Company. Ornate molding framed the windows and doors. The building was very nice, and Violet didn’t think she would mind working there, but in her present circumstance she’d be glad to find any respectable position.
Michael pointed out all the El stops, but Violet had a feeling it would t
ake a while before she knew exactly which one to take. He promised to draw her a map to keep with her, to make it easier for her to remember.
Mrs. Heaton pointed out Brooks Brothers, Tiffany’s Jewelry and Lord & Taylor along with other stores on Broadway. Michael had the driver turn up and down several different blocks and, new as she was to the city, even Violet could tell when they got close to the Ladies’ Mile.
Traffic slowed and became more congested. Carriages of all kinds, landaus, rockaways and phaetons moved slowly, giving them a glimpse of the ladies inside. That these women belonged to society was evident by the gowns they wore and the fact that many had liveried men driving them.
But there were others—everyday women dressed much like Violet and Mrs. Heaton—who were there, too. They were lined up, looking in the shop windows of Macy’s, Le Boutellier Brothers, Hearns Department Store and Orbach’s on Fourteenth Street. Violet remembered that Macy’s and Hearns both had ads in the classifieds. She’d apply at them on Monday as well as Butterick.
Part of Violet wanted to be looking in the windows along with all of those other women, and the other part of her could not have been more relieved when Michael told the driver to take them back to the boardinghouse.
If anything, traffic was even more frenzied than earlier in the day, and Violet closed her eyes at more than one intersection. When Michael chuckled, she opened them to find him looking at her with a smile on his face.
“I’m sorry, Violet, it is just so entertaining to watch you try not to watch the traffic.”
“I can’t seem to help it. I fear a calamity is bound to happen at any moment, and I don’t want to see it or be part of it.”
“Oh, accidents do happen, and frequently. But most times they aren’t all that serious.” He grinned at her. “However, it might be best if you try not to shut your eyes, or pray that our driver doesn’t shut his, as well.”
Violet laughed with him. “Yes, I can see how that might help. I’ll try, but I can’t promise.”
Just then, an omnibus careened around a corner and seemed to be heading straight for them. Violet scrunched her eyes shut tight and screamed.
Somewhere to Call Home (Love Inspired Historical) Page 4