by Debby Mayne
Pop lifted his eyebrows. “You’ve never had trouble doing that before. I suspect I know what’s going on.”
William suspected his father did know, but he didn’t want to discuss it now. “This food is excellent, Mom. I’d like seconds of the squash casserole.”
Her eyes lit up. “Really? That’s the only thing I made all by myself. Nelda didn’t even have to tell me what to do.”
William knew that, but he didn’t let on. “You did an excellent job with it.”
That seemed to appease his mother and take the focus off his silence. He was able to enjoy the remainder of the meal without anyone commenting on how little he spoke.
After everyone finished dessert, William hung around with Mom and his sisters, Loretta and Virginia. “Why don’t you join the men in the living room?” Mom asked.
“I’d like to help you all, if you don’t mind.”
Virginia snorted. “I don’t know what has happened to you, Will, but I like it.”
Mom patted William on the cheek as she passed him to get another load of dishes off the table. “He’s always been such a good boy. He’ll make a fine husband someday.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” Loretta said. “I’ve heard that you’ve been visiting that Pickard girl. She’s cute in sort of an old-fashioned way.”
Now William regretted his decision to help out. He opened his mouth to explain, but Mom piped up instead. “Lillian Pickard is a lovely girl. Old-fashioned isn’t always a bad thing, you know.”
“Of course we know, Mom,” Loretta said. “I was simply making an observation.”
William couldn’t let go of Mom’s comment. “When did you see Lillian, Mom?”
Mom’s face turned a dark shade of pink. “Well, I just happened to be in town one day, and I needed some cold cream, and…” She cast a look of helplessness toward William. “Okay, I was curious, so I stopped in at Joachim’s Five and Dime.”
“Did you tell her who you were?” William asked, annoyed but somewhat amused.
“Of course not. Why would I?”
Loretta scowled at Mom. “I hope you didn’t ruin anything for William. If she ever finds out—”
“If she ever finds out, I’m sure she’ll understand,” William said. “She has parents, too, ya know.”
“Of course she does. I never said she didn’t.” Loretta pouted. “Forgive me for trying to stick up for you.”
William put down the gravy boat he had in his hands and closed the distance to his sister. He put an arm around her neck and ruffled her hair with his other hand. “I appreciate everything you do, sis. You and Virginia are the best sisters a guy could have.”
That seemed to satisfy Loretta. She pulled away and straightened her hair. “So what’s going on between you and the Pickard girl?”
“I wish I knew. I like her quite a bit, and I’m pretty sure she likes me. But something is holding her back…maybe pride?”
“Of course,” Mom said. “You can’t imagine how uncomfortable it is to wonder where your next meal is coming from while you watch others throw perfectly good food to the dogs.”
“You would be the one to know,” William said. He’d heard the story many times about how his grandfather had died, leaving his wife and children destitute. If it weren’t for Pop’s parents hiring his grandmother to help out with domestic duties, there was no telling where they would have wound up. And he probably wouldn’t even be here.
Mom changed the subject, but he could tell it was still on her mind as she passed him carrying dishes to the kitchen. He also saw that she had the look she always had when crafting a plan. And nothing would stop her once she got something in her head.
After all the dishes had been cleared and William did everything his mother and sisters would let him do, he started toward the living room, where he could hear the men talking. Loretta called out to him, so he turned around to see what she wanted.
“William, if there’s anything I can do to help you with Miss Pickard, please don’t hesitate to ask. There’s nothing better than being with the person you love.”
His heart was touched by his sister’s gesture. “Thank you, Loretta, but I’m leaving this in God’s hands.”
“I just wanted to make the offer.” She turned and went back into the kitchen.
* * * * *
“If you just happen to see Mr. Tronnier, don’t forget to thank him for all the delicious food.” Mama sighed. “That ham was heavenly.”
“Of course I’ll thank him.” Lillian also planned to find out whether the Tronniers truly did give out other gift baskets.
The day was particularly cold for the time of year, so she wore layers over her dress and topped them with Mama’s coat, which was warmer than her own. The wind was brisk, so she wrapped her wool knit scarf around as much of her face as she could without rendering herself incapable of seeing where she was going.
She’d gotten to the corner where she had to turn toward the store when she spotted the Tronniers’ automobile coming toward her. It was apparent that William didn’t recognize her when he drove right past without so much as a wave. He appeared to be on a mission, his gaze fixed straight ahead and both hands at the top of his steering wheel. Then another automobile passed and startled her. Progress had obviously not skipped Cary.
When Lillian walked into the already-opened Five and Dime, Mr. Joachim was uncharacteristically jolly. “A bit cold but a beautiful morning,” he said in greeting. “How was your family’s Thanksgiving?”
“Very nice,” she said as she removed her scarf. “And yours?”
“We had a delightful day. Between the meal my wife had planned and the food from the Tronniers’ gift basket, we’ll have enough to eat for a week.”
That answered one question. “When did Mr. Tronnier bring you your basket?”
Still smiling, Mr. Joachim replied, “Right before he went to your house. He was hoping to save the trip and deliver both at the same time. By the way, how is your mama?”
“Much better. I think she was just overworked.”
Mr. Joachim’s smile faded a bit as he studied Lillian. “How are you feeling? I’ve had you working pretty hard lately too.”
“Oh, I’m just fine.” Lillian didn’t need Mr. Joachim to worry about her being able to do the job. This would be a terrible time to lose her income—not that there was any good time. She needed to act more energetic.
“Let me know if you get tired, Lillian. I know how difficult this season can be for retail clerks.” His expression didn’t seem threatening; instead it appeared to be more filled with concern. But she still wasn’t taking any chances.
“Are we putting up more decorations this weekend?” she asked.
“Oh my, you are enthusiastic, aren’t you? I got the impression that you didn’t want to decorate any more.”
The bell on the door jingled, so they dropped the conversation for the time being. Mr. Joachim skittered back to his office, while Lillian tended to the flow of customers. Most people came in for standard items, but a few customers were shopping early for Christmas gifts.
As she was about to close the shop, Mr. Joachim approached her. “I’m going to stay open an extra hour every day, including Saturday, until Christmas Eve. I’d planned to hire someone to help out during the extra hours, but so far no one has come in looking for a job.”
A sense of dread washed over Lillian. She couldn’t let him know how difficult her life already was, so she simply nodded and said, “I’d be happy to work the extra hours, but if you want me to, I can help you find someone.”
“Why don’t you do both?” he asked. “I’ll pay you a bonus for the extra time.”
“I’ll start by putting an ad in the window.”
“Only if you have time to interview people. I didn’t do that because I don’t want to bother.”
He expected more from her than he should, but she nodded. “I’ll do whatever I need to do.”
“I might not tell you this enough, Lillian
, but I appreciate having you here. You’re reliable, and I never have to worry about your walking out.”
His compliment shocked her. “Why, th–thank you, Mr. Joachim.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you.” The warmth in his smile touched her heart.
The first thing Lillian did the next morning was make a HELP WANTED sign. Within five minutes of sticking it in the window, an applicant appeared.
“I’ll need Saturdays and Wednesdays off,” the middle-aged woman said. “I can’t stay past dark, and I am unable to lift anything.”
“I see,” Lillian said as she tried hard not to frown. “When can you work, and what can you do?”
The woman’s face scrunched as she leveled Lillian with a disapproving glare. “Don’t get sarcastic with me, young lady.”
“I—I wasn’t.” Lillian hoped this wouldn’t be her only applicant. “I was just trying to find out what hours you would be available.”
“Most days, no nights.”
“During the holidays, we are staying open until seven during the week and Saturday until six. We really need someone who is flexible and can come in any time we’re open,” Lillian explained.
“You’re young. You can work the late hours. I have responsibilities at home, but we could use some extra money.”
Lillian wouldn’t know what to do with extra money, since every dime of her income was needed for essentials. She tried her best not to let the woman see her exasperation.
“Well? Do I get the job or not?”
“I just started interviewing, but I should know something soon. Please check back on Tuesday.”
The woman tossed her scarf over her shoulder and huffed. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do that. One of my friends is hosting a tea that afternoon, and I promised I’d help her set up.”
That pretty much sealed Lillian’s notion that this woman wouldn’t work out, no matter what. “Then check back whenever you’re available.”
After the woman left, Lillian realized that the store was already crowded. Mr. Joachim had gone behind the counter and started ringing up a customer. He cut a glance in her direction, so she went over to relieve him. He didn’t waste any time scurrying to his office.
They were busy for the remainder of the morning. By the end of the day, she’d interviewed a total of three people, and the only one who seemed like a good candidate was Rose, a woman in her early twenties—a year younger than Lillian—and she was able to work whatever hours Lillian needed her. Lillian’s only concern was that Rose had left her job at a drugstore in Raleigh a couple of months ago, and she was evasive when asked why.
“Can you come back on Monday morning?” Lillian asked. “I need to discuss all the applicants with my boss.”
Rose nervously nodded. “I’ll come in first thing Monday morning.” She turned toward the door to leave but stopped. “I’m a very good salesperson. Most customers like me.”
Lillian smiled. “I’m sure they do. You seem very nice.”
After Rose left, Lillian reflected on the interview. Everything about Rose seemed perfect for the job—her willingness to work whatever hours she was needed, her pleasant personality, and the fact that she showed up at the right time. But there was something Lillian couldn’t put her finger on that bothered her.
She presented Rose’s application to Mr. Joachim at the end of the day. He looked it over and nodded. “Looks good. When does she start?”
Lillian started to tell him about her feeling, but she stopped herself. It was probably just silly nerves. Her lack of experience with this sort of thing likely just made her jittery.
“She’s coming in on Monday morning to find out whether or not she got the job,” Lillian said.
“Good. When she comes in, we can start her right away, if she doesn’t have any other commitments.”
Since she couldn’t think of a way to find out what happened with Rose’s last job, she had no choice but to take a chance. None of the other applicants came close to fitting what they needed in the store.
At the end of the day, Lillian and Mr. Joachim closed the store together. “You put in a good day’s work, Lillian.” He slipped her an envelope. “Here’s a little something extra for everything you’ve done.”
She wanted to rip into the envelope to see what was in it, but she didn’t want to appear crass, so she tucked it into her coat pocket. “Thank you.”
He smiled and patted her shoulder. “See you on Monday.” Then he turned toward his house and left her standing there alone.
Lillian stood and stared after her boss, thinking about how he’d recently softened his demeanor with her. He used to be stern, but now he treated her with a gentleness that made her wonder what had happened.
Finally, she turned and started walking home. She jumped when she heard the sound of an automobile coming from behind. Her heart hammered as she thought it might be William, but when the rattling noise passed her, she felt let down. It was one of the other automobiles that had begun to appear in town.
Feeling dejected, she continued her walk home. But when she got within sight of her family’s tiny house, she saw an automobile parked in front. There was no doubt it was William’s vehicle. And it took every ounce of self-restraint not to run the rest of the way.
Chapter Nine
William had driven by Joachim’s Five and Dime a number of times throughout the late afternoon. The last time he’d spotted Lillian, she was chatting with another woman, so he didn’t stop. Not wanting to bother her, he decided to wait for her at her house. It was risky since her parents had turned cold toward him, but maybe he could find out what was going on without her there.
Her mother had answered the door. He could tell she wasn’t thrilled by him being there, but since the temperature outside had dropped significantly, she let him in.
“We appreciate the gift basket you brought,” Mrs. Pickard had said. “Don’t think you have to continue bringing us food.”
“That was something my family wanted to do,” he said. “Mom and Nelda, the woman who helps Mom around the house, enjoyed making the baskets. I think it was more fun for them than anything.”
Mrs. Pickard forced a smile and nodded. “It is always fun to give to others if you have something to offer.”
Lillian’s father was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, bundled up in blankets and reading a book beneath a dim light. He glanced up when William walked in.
William started talking about the weather, which led to farming. When William brought up the fact that his father was expanding some of his crops and livestock holdings, Lillian’s father’s eyes lit up. He’d finally hit on something they could discuss without the conversation being so one-sided.
It didn’t take long to figure out that Mr. Pickard was actually very good with numbers and seemed to have a pretty good head for business. As they discussed specifics about the farm, Mr. Pickard had some excellent suggestions on ordering seed.
“Too bad I didn’t invest in some land when I was younger,” Mr. Pickard said. “If I had, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now, and my daughter wouldn’t be out there in the cold, hard-working world.”
“She’s good at what she does,” William said. “And I think Mr. Joachim treats her well.”
A rattle of the front doorknob caught their attention. He turned his head just in time to meet Lillian’s gaze as she stepped inside.
“Close the door, Lillian,” Mrs. Pickard ordered. “You’re letting all the cold air in.”
Lillian did as she was told. The warmth of seeing her superseded the chill in the tiny house.
William watched as she shrugged out of her scarf and coat. Her hands were red and chapped from the bitter cold. She should be wearing gloves, but he suspected she didn’t have any. If he didn’t think it would injure her pride, he would bring her some. His mom certainly had enough to spare.
“How was your day at work?” he asked. “Is business picking up?”
“It alw
ays does right after Thanksgiving.” She crossed the room and stood next to her dad. His heart melted as she placed her hand on the man’s shoulder, leaned over, and asked, “How’s your leg feeling?”
Mr. Pickard shrugged. “It hurt earlier, but ever since Mr. Tronnier and I started talking, I’ve forgotten about it.”
Lillian looked up and met William’s gaze. “I s’pose I owe you my gratitude for whatever you’re saying to take Daddy’s mind off his pain.”
“It’s not me so much as the subject,” William said. “Your father has an excellent mind for business.”
Mr. Pickard straightened in the chair and pushed one of the blankets to the side. “I’ve always had an interest in business, but the opportunity to do anything about it has never come up.”
“Perhaps one day it will,” William offered.
Mr. Pickard chuckled good-naturedly. “I’m afraid it might be too late for me, but I can at least talk about it.”
Lillian cast a curious glance between her father and William. He wanted to ask what she was thinking, but Mr. Pickard spoke before he had a chance.
“Did you find someone to help out in the store?” he asked.
“I think so. She’s coming in on Monday, and Mr. Joachim has given me permission to offer her the job.” Her lips spread into a slight grin as she added, “I’m even going to have some supervisory responsibilities.”
William delighted in her obvious joy. It didn’t appear to take much to make Lillian happy—unlike some women he’d known.
“You’ll be very good at it too, I’m sure,” he said.
Even in the dim lighting he could see her blush. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture and glanced over at her father. William turned toward Mr. Pickard and saw that he was thoughtfully watching them.
“Would you like to go for a ride in my automobile?” William asked.
Lillian started to shake her head, but her father spoke up. “That sounds like an excellent idea. Your mama is cooking supper, though, so don’t stay gone too long.”
“But…” Lillian glanced at her father then looked back into William’s eyes. “Yes, that would be very nice, if you can have me back home soon. I’d better talk to Mama first, though.”