Suitor by Design

by Christine Johnson

  After Doc Stevens drove away, Mother stood on the porch a long while. Minnie didn’t dare interrupt. Mother would not speak until she was ready. Minnie waited at the kitchen table that seemed so small yet had once seated six at every meal. Minute after minute ticked by. She drummed her fingers and then checked the clock. She straightened the salt and pepper shakers and then checked the clock. She made sure the hot-water tank was full and then checked the clock.

  Jen burst in, coatless and hatless. She halted the instant she saw Minnie. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. Doc Stevens was here. Mother hasn’t left the porch yet.”

  “She didn’t tell you anything?”

  Minnie shook her head. “Doc said there was no other choice, but I don’t know what he meant.”

  Jen blew out her breath and sank into one of the kitchen chairs. The scene felt just like the one they’d gone through last summer except this time Ruthie wasn’t there. “Did he have another stroke of apoplexy?”

  “I don’t know, but what else could it be? Doc said Daddy was resting now.”

  “Well, at least there’s that.” Jen gnawed on her knuckles. “Maybe he’s just weaker.”

  Minnie heard the front door creak. She touched a finger to her lips and pointed toward the living room to make Jen stop talking.

  Mother walked into the room. “Well, girls, we have work to do.”

  She sank into the chair that Jen kicked out for her without even correcting Jen’s manners. This must be very bad news indeed.

  Mother sighed and folded her hands. “Your father needs to go to the hospital in Grand Rapids.”

  “Grand Rapids?” Jen exclaimed. “Why there when his doctors are in Battle Creek?”

  Minnie noticed the blotchiness of Mother’s cheeks and kicked her sister’s shin under the table.

  “Ouch!” Jen glared at her.

  Minnie glared back.

  Mother seemed not to notice. She stared off into space, unnaturally calm. “Doctor Stevens doesn’t believe your father is strong enough to make the trip to Battle Creek. Grand Rapids is closer. The hospital has fine doctors, and your father would only have to transfer once from the train to a taxicab.”

  “Peter said he’d drive Daddy to Battle Creek,” Minnie repeated.

  This time Mother noticed that Minnie had spoken. She laid her hand on Minnie’s, but it shook so much that the gesture did nothing to comfort. “I know, dear, but we can’t ask Peter to leave work for the entire day. Your father was adamant. The train will do. But I will need you to watch the shop and both of you to take care of things around the house. I will wire Ruth in the morning, but it’ll be a few days before she can get here. Until then, I’m looking to both of you to manage.”

  Mother and Daddy were leaving them again. Minnie looked at Jen, whose stricken expression made Minnie feel even worse.

  “Will you stay there?” Minnie choked out.

  “As long as necessary.” Mother gave Minnie a soft smile. “How did the audition go, dearest?”

  A lump grew in her throat. She had completely forgotten her misery of the past hour, but not Mother. “How can you think of something so unimportant at a time like this?”

  “It’s important to you,” Mother said, “so it’s important to me.”

  “It went all right.” Minnie wouldn’t say more. She wouldn’t reveal the dead silence and shocked expressions in the audience. She couldn’t add to Mother’s burden.

  “That’s good, dear.” Mother patted her hand. “I’m sure you did your best. The Lord might have touched hearts through your singing tonight.”

  Minnie hung her head. How selfish she’d been! The entire audition, she’d thought only of what she wanted, instead of how her singing might reach others. No wonder Mother wanted her to sing a hymn. She hadn’t wanted Minnie to fail. Her focus was on higher goals, while Minnie dreamed of lesser, unimportant things. A sob rose in her throat.

  “I’m sorry, Mother.”

  “Oh, dearest. I know.” Mother enveloped her in an embrace and kissed the top of her head. “I know. This is hard on all of us, but remember that your father is in the Lord’s hands.” She wiped a tear from Minnie’s cheek. “There’s no better place to be.”

  A loud rapping on the front door startled them all.

  Jen hopped up. “I’ll get it.”

  Mother handed Minnie a clean handkerchief. “Now wipe your eyes, child. You don’t want company to find you out of sorts.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” When it came to public appearance, Mother was a stickler for putting on a good face. Minnie blotted the tears from her eyes and blew her nose.

  By the time she’d tucked away the handkerchief, Jen led their oldest sister, Beatrice, into the kitchen.

  “Minnie! There you are!” Beattie bubbled with excitement. “Eugenia was looking for you everywhere.”

  Minnie stared blankly before remembering that Eugenia was Mrs. Kensington’s first name. “Oh. The audition. I’m sorry I wasn’t more gracious. I should have thanked her like the others did.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Beattie said. “That’s not why I’m here. You made the show!”

  Half an hour ago, that news would have sent Minnie into fits of excitement. Now it meant nothing.

  Beatrice looked from Minnie to Jen to Mother. “What’s wrong? Why the glum expressions? This is good news.”

  Jen’s lip quivered for a second before she reined it in. “Daddy has to go to the hospital.”

  “What?” Beatrice sank into a chair. “What happened? When? What can I do?”

  “Your father felt worse this evening,” Mother replied. “I went to the mercantile and called Doc Stevens. He said there’s nothing more he can do for your father, that he needs to go to the hospital. Jen and Minnie will handle things here while your father and I take the train to Grand Rapids.”

  “The train! You’ll do no such thing. Blake and I will drive you there.”

  “Your father insisted on the train. He wouldn’t want Blake to miss a day of work.”

  Beattie’s face blanched, and she looked down at her fingernails for a second before coming back up with an expression of fierce determination. “We will take you in the automobile. It will be faster, and the road is relatively good between here and there.”

  “Your father—” Mother began.

  Beatrice held up a hand. “I won’t listen to any objections. We are taking you, and that’s all there is to it.” She stood. “I’d better tell Blake.” That odd expression returned for a moment before Beattie wiped it away. “What time do you want to leave?”

  While Beatrice and Mother made arrangements for Friday morning, Minnie’s thoughts drifted back to the startling news that she’d gotten a spot in the musical revue. It was an enormous opportunity, but she would have to turn it down. There would be no time for frivolous pursuits. She must run the dress shop and help keep up the house. Her family needed her.

  * * *

  Once again Peter had intended to tell Vince that this was the last car he would customize when his friend arrived on Saturday. After learning that Mr. Fox had suffered another attack and needed to go to the hospital, he was torn. The family would need the extra money. Badly.

  Recalling Pastor Gabe’s offer to talk things through, Peter headed for the church after closing the garage for the day. The minister was just leaving when Peter arrived, out of breath.

  “You have a minute?” Peter asked between gulps of air.

  “Sure.” Pastor Gabe pushed open the door. “Felicity can hold supper.”

  Now Peter felt badly. “I don’t want to keep you from your family.”

  Gabe chuckled. “It happens four out of five days. She’s used to it.”

  “All right.” Peter followed the minister to his office. The late-afternoon
light cast a warm glow on the room.

  “Have a seat.” Gabe motioned to a comfortable-looking stuffed chair tucked into a little nook with another chair and a little round table.

  Peter sat down. He’d never been in here. No reason to. His ma and pa had made sure he was baptized, and Aunt Ursula took care of getting him confirmed. He’d never caused trouble in Sunday school. Until today, he’d had no reason to consult the minister. He looked around while Pastor Gabe riffled through his desk drawers for something.

  Two desks occupied opposite ends of the office. One was neat as a pin, without a single paper out of the place. Pastor Gabe’s overflowed with open books, notebooks and papers.

  “It’s in here somewhere.” Pastor Gabe scratched his head. “Aha!” Turning around, he looked through a pile of folders until he found the one he wanted. “Here we go.”

  “What were you looking for?” Peter asked. “I didn’t say why I wanted to talk to you.”

  Gabe sat down in the other stuffed chair and leaned slightly forward, as if eager to chat. “You’re right. I’m probably jumping to conclusions. I thought you might want to know a little more about your friend.”

  “Yeah, I suppose, but I don’t think he’s my friend anymore.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Peter explained how Vince had ignored Peter’s decision not to customize any more automobiles. “You can’t tell me he didn’t get the wire. I sent it days before.”

  “I see.” Pastor Gabe sat back and set the folder on the little round table. “So he just assumed you would do the job. You told him no, of course.”

  Peter threaded his fingers together, pulled them apart and knit them again. “I couldn’t refuse. Minnie needs the money for her pa and all. And that was before he had another attack. Anyway, I figured one more job wouldn’t hurt.” He waited for Gabe to criticize that decision, but the minister said nothing.

  Peter took that as a signal to go on. “Now I’m not so sure. I want to keep helping out Minnie’s family, but Vince said he was working for Mr. Al Capone. What if the compartment isn’t for luggage? What if they’re hauling something illegal, like bootleg liquor?”

  Pastor Gabe stroked his clean-shaven chin. “I see the dilemma.”

  “I was hoping you’d have an answer.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what you’ve done so far?”

  “Well, I did pray on it.” Peter figured that was what the minister would want to hear.

  “Good. Anything else?”

  “I tried the Bible, but I can’t find anything in it on bootlegging.” Peter propped his elbows on his knees and hung his head. “I might have missed it. It’s such a big book, and I didn’t have time to look through it all.”

  “The Bible can be pretty intimidating for a newcomer. I’m glad you accepted my invitation to talk. Maybe we can think of something together.”

  Peter felt better already. “Isn’t there something in the Bible about sharing the burden?”

  Pastor Gabe grinned. “You know more of the Bible than you think. Both Solomon and Jesus talked about sharing the load.”

  “They did?” Pastor Gabe’s approval filled him with confidence to ask what he really wanted to know. “You said you know more about Vince?”

  “Not exactly.” Pastor Gabe leaned back and lifted the folder. “Mr. Galbini is a bit of a mystery to me. I did call Mr. Isaacs, the former director of the Orphaned Children’s Society.”

  Peter squirmed in the chair, unsure he wanted to hear this.

  “He couldn’t shed much more light on the man than you already know.” Pastor Gabe flipped open the folder. “Mr. Galbini worked part-time at the orphanage for two years. He quit the job to take a better one in Brooklyn. Mr. Isaacs didn’t know what type of job it was or Mr. Galbini’s new employer. Mr. Capone’s name certainly didn’t come up. Vince might not have met him yet.”

  “Maybe, but Mariah said Vince ran with a rough crowd back then. Did Mr. Isaacs say anything about that?”

  “No, but my brothers were aware of Mr. Galbini’s friends. Charlie said he once suggested to Mr. Isaacs that he shouldn’t hire someone with those kinds of connections, but Mr. Isaacs stressed the need to give everyone a chance. That’s a good principle to keep in mind, Peter. Rumor and innuendo can doom a man.”

  “I suppose so.” Peter mulled that over. “But what if it’s true? What if a guy falls in with a bad lot? Does that mean we shouldn’t protect the people we care about?”

  “Of course we need to protect those in our care. On the other hand, we shouldn’t condemn a man based on rumor. Even if those rumors prove true, he still deserves a chance to change his ways. Sometimes those are the people who need our witness most.”

  Peter heaved a sigh. “That doesn’t really help me decide what to do.”

  Pastor Gabe’s gaze met Peter’s. “Let me tell you the mistakes I made a few years ago. I think it might help you.”

  Peter had a feeling this was serious stuff, the kind of thing a man like Pastor Gabe didn’t tell just anyone. “Yes, sir.”

  Pastor Gabe sat back, gazing off into the past. “I arrived in Pearlman in the summer of 1920, a little before you did. It wasn’t long before I noticed strange goings-on behind the drugstore.”

  “The speakeasy.”

  Pastor Gabe nodded. “They called it a blind pig back then. Seems it had been open for years. You see, Michigan was dry long before national prohibition. I found that refreshing and didn’t expect to find a saloon operating without drawing any interest from the police. Some of the town’s prime citizens visited it.”

  “Still do.”

  Pastor Gabe ignored that observation. “One day early on, I happened to stumble across a shipment of bootleg whiskey and took it upon myself to stop the ringleader, whom I mistakenly thought was my future father-in-law.”

  Peter sucked in his breath at this revelation.

  Pastor Gabe chuckled. “That’s right. I could have lost Felicity right then, thanks to jumping to the wrong conclusion. I thought the police were corrupt and that I was the only one who could save Pearlman. Now, that’s a pretty sorry display of pride, and the Lord wasted no time showing me just how arrogant I’d become. I was so busy trying to root out evil that I didn’t notice Felicity’s anguish. She ran off and got tangled up with the real bootleggers while I was trying to accuse the wrong person. It turned out that her father was working with the police, and my interference nearly cost Felicity her life.”

  “I don’t want to hurt Minnie! That’s why I came to you.”

  “I know, and that’s why I’m telling you this. Don’t go it alone like I did. Talk to the police. Sheriff Ilsley is a good man. He’ll lead you in the right direction. If you want, I’ll go with you.”

  Peter recoiled at the thought of approaching the police. Many of the New York policemen had been bribed by the owners of the gambling halls and brothels. “I don’t know. What if Vince gets mad? What if I’m wrong?”

  The pastor grasped Peter’s shoulder. “That’s why you need friends to stand with you. Don’t claim more than you know. Just tell the sheriff what Vince asked you to do and state your concerns. Do you have any proof that the compartment might be used for liquor?”

  Peter recalled Blake Kensington’s comment, but neither man had mentioned liquor. No proof. Just guessing. He shook his head.

  “Well, the size of the compartment might tell us if liquor would fit inside.”

  “Maybe,” Peter said, “but how do we know what size they’d need to haul liquor?”

  “The sheriff would probably know. If not, he can contact the federal prohibition agent. One way or another, we’ll get the dimensions. Shall we go there now?”

  Peter hesitated. Years ago, the policeman he’d talked to about his dead friend said he couldn’t do a thing, even when Peter gav
e him the thugs’ names. But Pearlman wasn’t New York. If Pastor Gabe said the sheriff could be trusted, maybe he could.

  “I’ll be with you the entire time,” Pastor Gabe added.

  Fear battled against doing the right thing.

  Pastor Gabe must have sensed why Peter hesitated. “The sheriff can protect Minnie. He helped save Felicity.”

  That testimony had to be good enough. Peter couldn’t think of another choice that wouldn’t put Minnie in peril.

  “All right.” Peter stood. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Blake and Beatrice came for Mother and Daddy early in the morning. Blake had used his influence to drag the telegraph operator into the office to send a wire to New York late last night. Jen would check for a response from Ruth and Sam at noon. If nothing arrived then, Minnie would close the shop early to get the reply.

  On this crisp early-April morning, Mother had bundled Daddy in layers of clothing and his heaviest winter overcoat. Even with all that bulk, his thin frame couldn’t be hidden. He wheezed and coughed every few steps. Blake had to assist him down the staircase, with Mother hovering over every step.

  “I’m all right,” Daddy stated between coughing fits. “Stop fussing over me, Helen.”

  Minnie and Jen stood their posts at the bottom of the stairs like twin guard dogs. When he reached them, Jen took his arm. “Walk with me, Daddy.”

  He stood a little straighter. “Someday I’ll walk you down the aisle, Genevieve.”

  Jen didn’t even flinch at his use of her much-hated first name. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  He’d smiled then but had to sit a spell at the kitchen table and again in the living room. That was where he addressed Minnie. “I understand you got a part in the upcoming musical revue.”

  “Yes, Daddy.” Minnie sat at his feet, like she’d done as a child.

  “You always were quite the songbird.”

  “I was?”

  He smiled softly, dim eyes seeing only the memory. “I remember you singing when you were on that old rope swing we put in the oak tree out back. I’d wait behind the shed on my way home from work so you wouldn’t see me. You never wanted anyone to hear you singing.” He coughed. “Now think, my little songbird is going to sing in front of the whole town. I’m so proud of you.”