by Debby Mayne
“Why do you care what kind of sandwich she eats? Not everyone likes a side of beef for lunch every day.” William gave his brother a onceover glance. “You might do yourself a favor by eating a pickle sandwich every now and then.”
“Touché, brother.” Mason patted his belly. “Some of the girls like me this way. There’s a whole lot more to love.”
“Good point,” William said, grinning.
“You could use a little more meat on those long, lanky bones of yours.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” William took a step toward the stairs then stopped. “By the way, no offense intended.”
“None taken.”
William loved his brothers, even when they got on his nerves. Mason was the oldest of five children, three of them boys. William was the middle child, and Amos was the youngest. Their two sisters, the second oldest, Loretta, and the second from the youngest, Virginia, had both married young, and they already had five children between them. William loved his nieces and nephews and hoped he’d be blessed with children of his own someday.
* * * * *
Lillian arrived at the Five and Dime five minutes before the store opened the next morning. Mr. Joachim pounced on her the second she walked in. “You’re late.”
She glanced at the wall clock. “I still have five minutes.”
“You know I need you here early to get the place ready.”
With a sweeping gesture, she shook her head. “I swept and dusted yesterday before I left, so there shouldn’t be anything left to do.”
“I don’t want you cleaning while we have customers in the store.”
Lillian opened her mouth to argue and say that she cleaned between customers, but she knew it would be a losing battle. Besides, Mr. Joachim already seemed to be in a bad mood, and there was no point in infuriating him further. “Have you looked at the receipts?” she asked. “We had a good day yesterday.”
“That’s nice. Now get back behind the counter. I’ll open up.”
Within an hour, the store was packed with customers—mostly women picking up personal items and things for their homes. During the lunch hour, working girls came in looking for accessories and hair products. None of them wanted to be bothered taking advice from a girl who obviously didn’t use what she was selling. Following a brief afternoon lull, a more eclectic crowd arrived—women pushing strollers, children who’d gotten out of school, and a few regular customers.
Mr. Joachim remained at the store until closing. Afterward, he stood at the end of the main aisle as she walked up and down the rows with the feather duster. When she finished the last of the rows, he held out the broom and dustpan. Good thing she’d worn her flats, or she’d be limping. As it was, she had a blister on her foot from the day before. It hurt, but it wasn’t unbearable.
After she finished cleaning, he handed her an envelope. “Get your things and get outta here. See you Monday morning.”
She gladly did as she was told, and she clenched her jaw to keep from saying anything. Mr. Joachim wasn’t as bad as he came across, but as tired as she was, her thoughts weren’t exactly pleasant. She stuffed the envelope filled with her weekly pay into her purse and walked out the door.
The first thing she spotted when she rounded the corner toward home was William Tronnier standing on the side of the road, leaning against his automobile. When he noticed her, he lifted a hand and motioned for her to get in.
“Thank you,” she said, “but I can walk.”
“Why would you want to, with me right here?”
Good point, but she couldn’t get in without an argument. “I like walking?”
“Maybe so, but you’ve been on your feet all day. I’m giving you a chance to ride home in style.” A playful smile teased his lips.
She paused then got into his automobile and waited for him to run around to his side. “What are you doing here again today?” she asked when he joined her inside the car.
“Waiting for you.”
“Tell me the truth.”
He lifted one hand as he shrugged and gave her a quick glance before turning his attention back to driving. “That is the truth. I just happened to be in town, so I hung around to take you home.”
The sliver of hope dashed, and she sighed. She should have known better than to think he’d drive all the way into town just for her.
“So how was your day? Better than yesterday, I hope.”
“It was good.” She smoothed her hands over her dress. “Busy.”
“I like hearing that. Business seems good for everyone. These are some very good times all around.”
Maybe for some people, but Lillian wasn’t exactly feeling the effects of such great times. “I suppose.”
* * * * *
Lillian wasn’t very talkative today, and William felt awkward. He racked his brain to think of something interesting to say.
Finally he forced a laugh. “My brother Mason told me he caught you eating a pickle sandwich.”
“He caught me?” Confusion replaced her look of exhaustion. “Is there anything wrong with eating a pickle sandwich?”
“No, not at all.” William hated that he’d made her defensive.
She folded her arms and slumped in the seat. “I eat pickle sandwiches when I don’t have anything else to bring for lunch.”
Of course. It had never dawned on him that she ate something odd simply because that was all she could afford.
“I am so sorry, Lillian. I had no idea.”
“I bet there are a lot of things you have no idea about.” She pulled herself straighter as they stopped in front of her house. “Like what it means to have to work for someone at a job you don’t love and go home too tired to do anything—and then have to repeat it all the next day.”
“Hold on there, Lillian. I never meant to insult you.”
“But you did.”
“I’m sorry, okay?”
She cleared her throat and nodded but wouldn’t look him in the eye. His mouth went dry as he tried to figure out what to say or do.
He reached out and gently touched her cheek. She slowly turned to face him. “Please don’t feel sorry for me, William.”
“I don’t.” More than anything, he was embarrassed by what he’d said. “My apology wasn’t about feeling sorry for you, but more about asking forgiveness for sticking my ugly foot in my mouth.”
Her lips curled into a grin as she glanced down at his feet. “I bet those boots taste terrible.”
“Oh, trust me, they do.” His hand lingered on her cheek for a few seconds before he finally pulled away. “I’ll see you again soon, Lillian.”
She started to say something, but she closed her mouth, nodded, and got out of his automobile instead. “Thank you again for the ride, William. I hope you don’t feel obligated to make this a regular thing.”
He didn’t feel obligated, but he fully intended to make this a regular thing. Waiting for Lillian was torture, but seeing her had become the highlight of his day. He waited until the front door closed behind her before pulling away—but not before the front window curtain fluttered back into place. Someone had been watching them.
Chapter Two
Lillian walked into the house in time to see her parents pretending they weren’t spying from the front window. “Before you say a word, yes, I did get a ride home in William Tronnier’s automobile.”
“Be careful, Lil,” her daddy warned. “I’m sure he’s a very nice man, but people like him…well, they have different expectations.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Mama added. “I have no idea why he’s giving you all this attention, but it can’t be good.”
Her mama had stepped over the line with her last comment. Lillian spun around to face her. “Why do you say it can’t be good? You don’t think he’s merely a nice man who wants to do a girl a favor?”
Mama and Daddy exchanged a knowing glance before Mama took her by the arm and led her to the sofa. Daddy disappeared to another part of the
tiny house. “There are some things that you learn from experience. I was once courted by a young man of means. I thought he liked me for who I was, but he just saw me as a temporary diversion between more suitable young women.”
“That was a long time ago, Mama. Besides, a couple of rides home in an automobile don’t constitute courting.”
Her mama lifted a finger in the way that annoyed Lillian. “Mark my words. Either he feels sorry for you or he wants something a girl from his social class won’t give him.”
“Mama!”
“I know it sounds harsh, but it’s better to learn this now than to find out later the hard way.”
Daddy reappeared at the doorway. “When’s supper going to be ready? I’m starving.”
Mama hopped off the sofa and scurried toward the kitchen, her voice trailing her as she went. “It’ll be ready in two shakes of a bunny’s tail.”
Lillian rose and started to follow, but Daddy stopped her. “Your mama is just trying to protect you. She knows what it’s like to be a young girl with a broken heart.”
“You didn’t break her heart,” Lillian reminded him.
“No, but I was right there after it happened.” He offered a self-satisfied grin. “In fact, when I saw her in distress, I swooped down and claimed her for me. I was glad to do it, too. I couldn’t have found a better woman, even if I’d gone looking in the upper class.”
“Daddy, that’s all good, but this has nothing to do with looking for someone.” Why couldn’t her parents get it through their heads that she and William Tronnier were not seeing each other?
“Speaking of looking for someone, what’s wrong with Walter Adams? He’s a hardworking man, and he would be better suited for you.” Daddy rubbed his chin as he pondered his suggestion. “In fact, I think he’d be very understanding about you working.”
Walter Adams didn’t have a gentlemanly bone in his body. “I’m not interested in Walter.”
“He might not be as handsome as Mr. Tronnier, but you should look past all that. If you’d like, we can invite him over one evening so you can get to know him better.”
“No, Daddy, I’ve known Walter long enough to know that he’s not a good match for me. Besides, I can’t see myself ever wanting to be with Walter.”
“Don’t say no so fast, Lillian. Age tends to advance quickly, and as the years go by, you may not have the luxury of being so picky.”
* * * * *
The next morning, Mama entered Lillian’s bedroom and swished open the curtain. “Time to get up and ready for church. I’m ringing bells, so I have to be there early for our final rehearsal.”
Lillian slowly sat up in bed. She felt as if she’d been hit by a steam locomotive. “Where’s Daddy? Is he ready yet?”
Mama laughed. “He’s still sawing some Z’s. Give him another five minutes before you try to get him up. Ever since it’s cooled off at night, he’s been more difficult to wake up. Maybe if I yank the blanket off the bed and hide it, he’ll be more agreeable to join the land of the living.”
Lillian watched Mama leave for church before she stood and pulled on her own robe. At least Mama had made the coffee. She poured herself a cup and sat down at the table to enjoy a couple of sips before making an attempt to wake Daddy.
She was about to go get him up when she heard the sound of movement in the hallway. When she glanced up, she saw him trudging toward her. “Where’s your mama? Has she already gone off to church?”
Lillian nodded. “Want some coffee?”
“Sure.” He limped toward the table.
“Are you hurting?” she asked as she poured the coffee and added cream and sugar.
“A little.” He rubbed his leg. “Sometimes I can almost kid myself into thinking I might be able to go back to work someday, but then on days like this, I wake up feeling like it happened yesterday.”
Lillian knew there was no point in getting her hopes up about Daddy going back to work. The doctor had said he’d never be able to hold a job that required any standing or walking for long periods of time, and that was the only type of work Daddy knew how to do.
“I’d get a job at the bank if they’d hire me, but you know how it is. All those jobs are held by relatives and friends of the old bankers.”
She offered him a look of sympathy as she set the coffee cup in front of him. “Eggs?” There were two eggs in a small bowl in the icebox.
He nodded. “Scrambled, if you don’t mind. And some toast. When are you getting paid again?”
“I got paid yesterday,” she replied.
“Good. You can give your mama some money to get some decent food. I’m getting sick of potatoes and onions.”
Lillian was sick of a lot of things, but she didn’t mention it. Instead, she prepared the eggs and toast for her daddy and then served him.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” He shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth and watched her as he chewed and swallowed.
“I might fix myself a piece of toast after I get ready for church. Do you feel like going?”
“No, but I’ll go to make your mama happy. She hates when I miss church—especially when she’s ringing bells.”
An hour later, Lillian and her daddy were on their way. Fortunately, their church was only a couple of blocks from their house. A group of people hovered near the door. When she got close enough to see their faces, she spotted someone she never expected to see.
* * * * *
William knew the instant Lillian saw him. Her face lit up with recognition before doubt and distrust covered her like a shield. Her father didn’t seem to know what was happening. He hobbled up the three steps and edged past the few people who stood in his way, while Lillian hung back.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in a loud whisper.
“Same thing as you. Worshipping God.”
“I’ve never seen you here before.” She diverted her gaze. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her father chatting with Walter Adams.
“That’s because I generally attend church with my family,” William replied, pulling her attention back to him. “But I thought—”
“You thought you’d come to this side of the tracks where all the poor people worship God.”
Instead of arguing with her, which he knew would be pointless, William countered her with what he knew was true. “We all worship the same God, so what does it matter?”
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Walter pulled away from Lillian’s father and approached them.
“Hey there, Lillian,” Walter said in a husky voice, “I’ve been thinking me and you might should get together sometime.”
William pulled back in astonishment. That took some gall.
“It’s very sweet of you to think about me, Walter, but I don’t think our getting together is a good idea.”
Walter now seemed stunned. “But I thought…your daddy…well—”
“Now run along and find a seat near the back, Walter. Those pews are always the first to fill up.”
William had to hand it to Lillian. She sure didn’t pull any punches if she wasn’t interested. Then it dawned on him—she’d never spoken to him like that.
“Would you mind if I sit with you and your father?” he asked.
“Suit yourself.” Lillian barely glanced at him before setting out for the front of the church toward her father.
As they sat down, her father extended his hand. “I would stand, but I have a gimp leg. I’m Frank Pickard.”
“William Tronnier. Pleased to meet you,” William said as he shook Mr. Pickard’s hand. “I don’t expect you to stand. I just thought it would be nice to visit Lillian’s church this morning.”
“It’s a fine church,” Mr. Pickard said as he nudged Lillian. “Isn’t it, Lil?”
“Yes.” Lillian fumbled with her Bible and squirmed in the seat between the men.
Occasionally, William spotted some of the other church members leaning forward and staring at him, until he turned around
and met their gazes. All of them offered brief smiles and quickly looked away. Some of them probably knew who he was, but many didn’t. Regardless, he was sure they wondered what he was doing there.
As the pastor preached his sermon, William thought about how similar the service was to his own. His mother was in the bell-ringer group at his own church, and when they started playing a familiar tune, he leaned over and whispered this to Lillian. She gestured for him to be quiet, so he did as he was told.
Finally, when the service was over, William stood and helped both Lillian and her father to their feet. “This was very nice—almost exactly like the service at my church.”
“Only the people at your church dress much smarter, I’m sure,” Lillian blurted.
The instant she said that, her father gave her a stern look. “Where are your manners, Lillian Pickard?”
“That’s all right,” William told Mr. Pickard. “I can’t say I didn’t expect something like that. It’s really my fault, showing up uninvited.”
“Well, the way I was brought up, you should never have to wait to be invited to any church,” Mr. Pickard said. “The Lord’s house is for His believers, no matter who you are.”
“Thank you.” William extended his elbow toward Lillian. “Would you like to go outside?”
“It’s cold out, and I don’t intend to leave this building until it’s time to go home.”
“Oh, that reminds me. I’d like to offer you and your parents a ride home.”
Lillian shook her head. “That isn’t necessary, Mr. Tronnier.”
“William.”
She rolled her eyes and sighed. “William. Like I said, that isn’t necessary. We are perfectly capable of walking home. We do it every week.”
“Your father’s leg…well, I think he might enjoy a ride in this cold weather. And your mother too.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea.” The female voice behind William sparked his attention. It sounded similar to Lillian’s voice, only slightly huskier. He turned around. “Mrs. Pickard?”