“I came to inquire about the position?” she asked suddenly feeling very unsure of herself.
“Ah, of course,” he said. A smile lit his face, and even in the dim light of the dusty shop, he suddenly looked much younger. “My name is Jonah Henderson I run the store.”
“Rose O'Neil,” she said quietly.
“Irish?” he asked. Her eyes widened and she found herself unsure of what to say. She knew some shop owners back east did not like to hire Irish employees. She thought it would be different out west.
“Is...is that a problem Mr. Henderson?” she asked.
“Absolutely not,” he said. She felt relief wash over her as his bright smile remained in place.
“My mother was Irish,” he continued. “Her last name was McDonna. She came west with her parents a little over thirty years ago.”
“I settled in Boston originally,” Rose said feeling much more at ease now. “My parents sent me there to live with my Aunt when I was only fourteen. I’ve only just moved to town. I’m afraid I’m a little out of place here.”
“Do you have any family in Denver?” he asked.
She shook her head no.
“That’s why I need a job,” she said. “Fairly urgently.”
“May I ask what brings you all the way out here by yourself?” he asked. Rose felt herself bristle at the question. His smile had faded a bit though he still looked more curious than cautious. And, she knew if she wanted a job here, she would have to answer his question as best she could.
“I lost my position in Boston,” she said. “And, I... decided I needed a change.”
He looked at her skeptically for a moment and Rose prayed silently that he would not press the matter. He did not. Instead, he nodded silently at her and gave her a small smile.
“I’ll fetch an application for you,” he said.
Rose’s heart dropped to her stomach once more. An application meant writing. Not to mention reading. She couldn’t really manage either.
“Is that necessary?” she asked quickly before he could take a piece of paper from a stack near the register. “I have experience, I promise you.”
“You have worked in a shop before?” he asked turning away from the applications and back to her. Now, he wore a confused look tinged with suspicion.
“No,” Rose answered honestly though her voice trembled as she did. “I worked as a maid in a large house back home in Boston.”
She suddenly wondered if coming into this shop hadn’t been a large, very costly mistake. Mr. Henderson moved away from the papers entirely and a look of recognition came over his face. As though he’d just understood something that had previously been a mystery to him.
“And, when you worked as a maid,” he said, “did you do any work that required reading or counting?”
“No,” she answered again, honestly. “But, I can do basic sums. I can also sign my name and read...a bit.”
“But not enough to fill out an application.” he said. It was not a question and Rose thought she knew what was coming next. She also knew that the sun was getting lower in the sky and she had nowhere to go. She had to put in another defense.
“I promise, Mr. Henderson,” she said quickly, “I am a fast learner.”
“I’m sorry, Miss O'Neil,” he said with a sigh. “But, I’m afraid I need someone to work behind the register. That requires both reading and sums.”
“Please, sir,” she said, too desperate to be embarrassed by the pathetic pleading note in her voice. “I might not be able to start at the register right away. But, I can clean the shop. I can stock shelves, run errands, do whatever else you need to be done.”
He sighed again and looked at her as though he was considering how best to turn her away politely. But, there was a note of compassion in his expression too. One that told her that he truly wished to help her.
That was when the idea came to Rose.
“Just give me one month,” she said quickly. “You won’t even have to pay me. Just let me sleep in the back room and I’ll work for free.”
“I could not allow you to work without pay-”
“Please,” she said. She heard her voice shake on the last note and her eyes welled up with tears. A hint of embarrassment came back to her as she pushed the water away from her eyes and tried as hard as she could to stare steadily at the man in front of her.
Jonah tilted his head and looked at her thoughtfully. There seemed to be a great debate taking place behind his eyes. Rose felt her heart begin to pound as she awaited his verdict.
“I can only afford to give you one week,” he said finally. “There is a small storage room in the back of the shop that can be made up into a bedroom. If you do not object, you can stay there.”
“Thank you, sir,” Rose said quickly breathing a sigh of relief. For the first time since she set out on this journey, she felt a smile cross her lips. “I promise you won’t-”
He held up a hand to stop her. The smile faded as Rose looked into his eyes and waited for some kind of horrible condition. Perhaps it would be similar to what her last employer had asked of her. Perhaps, after fleeing such an arrangement, she would find herself in another.
“I insist on giving you some kind of monetary compensation,” Jonah said. “And if you prove unsuitable here, I will help you find another position in town.”
Rose stared at him for a moment. Though the news was beyond thrilling, she found that she could not smile. She could not move. After dreading Mr. Henderson’s stipulation, after dealing with employers who would not have dreamed of doing half as much for her, it was more than overwhelming.
“Thank you, sir,” she said quietly. “That is...very kind of you.”
“Not at all,” he said. “I don’t think I could live with the idea of a young lady on her own with no means of support.”
He smiled at her. That sad, wistful half smile that barely reached his hazel eyes.
Rose felt her heart lighten and did her best to smile back at him. Though, she was not sure that she had managed it. He did not seem to notice anything strange in her expression as he stood from his desk.
“You can make yourself at home in the shop,” he said. “I’ll fix up a bed for you in the back room. You’ll start work tomorrow.”
“I can start now if you need-”
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, Miss O'Neil,” he cut her off with a trace of amusement lining his voice. “But, it’s not necessary. I’m sure you are tired from your trip. I think I’ll be able to manage on my own one day more.”
Rose stared at him again, not quite sure what to do with this man. No man before had ever treated her with such kindness. Not since her Da had doted on her before his death.
Unsure how to react, Rose pressed her eyes to the floor and said quietly.
“Thank you once again, Mr. Henderson.”
“Once again, Miss O'Neil,” he said with another note of amusement that caused her to look up from the floor once more, “there’s no need.”
He smiled fully at that. Finally, the light from the corners of his mouth reached his hazel eyes, making them dance. Rose felt her stomach constrict in a way she was certain had nothing to do with the child growing there.
He took his smile around the corner and into the back room where her bed would be. She watched him long after he disappeared from sight. She could not help but think that she had never met a man quite like Jonah Henderson. And she could only marvel at the fact that she had entered both his shop and his employ.
*****
One week passed more quickly than Rose had expected. It was amazing how freeing it was to be allowed to work and not have to worry about what sort of mood the boss would be in.
When she worked as a maid in Boston, she was constantly terrified. The man of the house kept a tight hold on the staff. If he came home in a bad mood, he would yell at each of the maids in turn for some tiny infraction until they cried. But, even that was better than some of his other moods.
Rose remembered when he would enter the house with the stench of brandy on his breath. The wiser maids always scattered. He always ordered Rose to stay. She didn’t like to think about what happened after that.
But here, there was no need to tremble when the boss came into the shop. Indeed, she looked forward to seeing Jonah. He would talk with her when the shop was empty or as they closed for the evening.
Sometimes he would tell her jokes he’d heard in the tavern or stories about his family.
“My father used to own the shop,” he’d told her just one day after she’d begun working. “He bought it just after we moved here.”
“Were you born here? In Colorado?” she asked. She had never imagined meeting someone who was actually born out west. Not a white man at any rate. She’d always imagined the west being peopled with Indians and adult settlers.
“I was,” Jonah answered. “Truth be told, I was born in the back room where you’re sleeping.”
“I didn’t know my bedroom had such a prestigious history,” she said smiling. She could feel a blush coming into her cheeks when he smiled back at her. She hoped it wasn’t noticeable.
“I wouldn’t call it prestigious,” he said, “I came earlier than expected. It took both my parents by surprise.”
“You survived,” she said. “That’s prestigious enough these days.”
Without thinking, she moved her hand to her stomach. When she looked down and saw where her hand had chosen to rest, she removed it a little too quickly not to be noticed.
When she looked to Jonah, she tried to smile casually as best she could. He looked at her thoughtfully before answering.
“I suppose it is.”
He gave her another half sad, half wistful smile but did not say anything more on the subject.
Birth and death were not mentioned the rest of the week.
Rose focused instead on stocking the store’s shelves, sweeping the dust that customers brought in with them, and cleaning windows and hanging signs.
By the end of the week, she had almost fallen into a familiar routine.
She began to recognize some of people who came into the shop such as Mrs. Jennings with her children, and old Mrs. Basil, who always asked for brown sugar and hard tack.
They began to talk to her, to recognize her as well. There were moments when she imagined herself becoming a fixture here. She vaguely imagined being ‘Miss Rose’ who works in the shop.
There were other moments when she imagined the shop patrons calling her by a different name. She imagined, again very vaguely, maybe perhaps even Mrs. Henderson.
That same daydream overtook her just as she was closing the shop on Saturday evening. She turned the sign to signify the shop was closed on the glass window and saw Jonah coming towards her from the back in its reflection.
She felt her heart begin to pound and she found herself pretending that they would not simply say goodnight and go their separate ways as they always had. She pretended for a moment that there was a gold ring on the finger of her left hand. That Jonah would escort her back to the apartment near the shop that they shared together as husband and wife.
“Miss O'Neil,” he said awakening her from her reverie.
“Yes,” she said, half startled.
“I believe we agreed that, at week’s end, we would discuss your employment,” he said coming towards the door.
Her heart began to sink and her pulse pound for an entirely different reason. Perhaps her work had been unsatisfactory. Maybe he was going to dismiss her.
Intense panic rushed through her veins as she turned to face him.
“Mr. Henderson, I can work harder,” she said. “If there are any other chores you need to be done I can-”
He put up a hand to stop her, giving her that charming smile once more. She fell silent.
“Miss O'Neil,” he said, “please. You’ve been an excellent worker. I could not have asked for better.”
Rose wanted to sigh in relief, but kept her guard up nonetheless. She could sense some qualifier coming. Some horrible “but” or “however” that could put an end to her work here.
“My only concern is that the manual responsibilities are not shared between us as they should be,” he said.
“That was what we agreed on, Mr. Henderson,” Rose reminded him. “I promised to take on the physical tasks so that you would be able to focus on the sales and bookkeeping.”
“Yes,” he said, “but if you are going to remain here, and I would very much like you too, you will have to take on some of the sales yourself. And I’m afraid you’ll have to let me sweep and stock sometimes,” he added with a chuckle and a smile.
Rose wanted desperately to mirror his infectious smile back to him, but found she could not. She still was not quite sure what he was trying to say to her.
“It will be hard for me to handle sales when I cannot read or do complex figuring,” she said.
“That’s what I wanted to discuss with you,” he said. “I would like to teach you in the evenings. If that is agreeable to you, of course.”
Rose’s heart stalled in her chest. It was a few moments before she truly understood what Mr. Henderson had told her.
“You...you would like to teach me to read?” she asked.
“And write. And do some basic sums,” he said. “If you’ll agree.”
She let a smile light her face, her heart beating this time with excitement. She moved towards him coming next to one of the shelves.
“Of course I-”
Suddenly there was a crash from the shelf next to her. In her haste, she seemed to have bumped the display and one of the tin cans had fallen to the ground.
She moved to pick it up, but Jonah stooped down before she could.
“Please allow me,” he said taking the can in hand.
Moving forward, he held it out to her. She moved to take it and felt her hand brush against Jonah’s as she did. Her heart leaped in her chest and her hand became suddenly warm as she looked into his eyes.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For everything.”
“I take it that means you’ll agree,” he said, his eyes not moving from hers.
“I will,” she answered. “I would very much like to learn how to read.”
“Good,” he said. “We’ll begin tomorrow after the shop closes.”
He seemed to hesitate for a moment before moving past her to the door.
“Until tomorrow, Miss O'Neil,” he said with a nod to her as he opened the door.
“Good evening, Mr. Henderson,” she said. And, with another swift, half smile, he left the shop. She went to the window and watched him walk down the street just as the sun began to set westward along the horizon.
As he walked around the corner and out of sight, she absently touched the place where his hand had touched hers only a few moments ago. She could still imagine the warmth of his skin beneath her own.
She was almost lost in her own lovely daydream when she felt a jolt in her stomach. She moved her hand to rub against the spot where her baby had kicked against her.
Her child seemed to do that each time Rose thought too longingly of Jonah. Each time this fantasy threatened to overtake her, she would feel her stomach lurch.
The baby inside her would move or kick and she would remember why her silly little daydreams could never come true.
Her stomach would begin to grow soon. She had no way to hide it.
She would have to leave town before that happened. She would have to go somewhere else. Perhaps invent a dead husband and change her name.
Whatever she did next, she knew she could not stay, no matter how much she wanted to.
*****
“Most of what you’ll see are one and five dollar bills,” Jonah told Rose as they stood beside the cash register at the store’s back desk.
They were working with change today. Something that, as they had discovered this past week, did not come quite as quickly to Rose as reading did.
Onl
y one week in and she had already memorized several small words by sight.
She knew how to read meal and flour as well as open and closed, one and five, including some others that would be useful for the shop. Making change, however, was proving more difficult.
“Say an item costs twenty-five cents,” Jonah said, “and the customer gives you one dollar.”
He set a one-dollar bill down in front of her.
“How much change would you give him in return?” he asked.
Rose stared at the bill in frustration for a long while. She had tried to memorize amounts of change for five and one dollar bills the same way she had memorized words on labels. For some reason, the numbers did not seem to stick in her mind as easily as letters did.
It took her, at least, a minute of hard thinking before she remembered what she had written down during their last lesson.
“It takes four quarters to make up a dollar,” she said finally thinking allowed. “So, if an item costs one-quarter and I’m given a dollar. That means the customer will need three-quarters back.”
“And what does that add up to?” Jonah asked.
“Seventy-five cents,” she said feeling a swell of pride. She looked over to Jonah who was now beaming proudly at her.
“Perfect,” he said. “I think you’re starting to really understand this. You’re picking things up very quickly.”
She felt heat race up her cheeks immediately accompanied by another fluttering sensation in her chest.
“If I am,” she said, “it’s only because you’ve taken the time to teach me. No one’s ever bothered before.”
“Well, I’m glad I did,” Jonah said with a smile. “It will take a load off my mind to have your help behind the counter.”
“I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” Rose said suddenly feeling her heart pound with anxiety rather than delight. While it was true that she had enjoyed her lessons with Jonah after the shop closed in the evenings, the thought of having to perform sums in front of customers still terrified her just a bit.
“Perhaps not,” he said. “But, you will be soon.”
She tried to smile at him but, the idea of failing at basic figuring in front of a customer still caused her palms to begin to sweat. It did not help that, at that exact moment, the baby in her stomach lurched causing bile to lurch up into her throat.
Sunlight and Shadows Page 51