Laundry Lady's Love

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Laundry Lady's Love Page 4

by Sophie Dawson

Today, Laura was heading around to the front entrance of the barber shop. Vernie Preston, Pastor Noah Preston’s wife, was hosting a tea for the ladies of the church on Thursday. Since all the ladies of the House wanted to attend, Laura needed someone to tend her boys after school.

  She didn’t think the tea would last too much past the dismissal time, but wanted to be sure they were supervised until she could get to them. Duncan Ashburn, Ozzie Basking, and Kathryn Naylor would be watching the House children, but Laura was just a bit unsure that her two would behave. Eddie, especially, was pushing the boundaries set down by his mother and the other adults of the House. Besides, Hank had expressed the desire to get to know her sons a bit more. This seemed a good chance to offer a short time to do just that.

  No one was in the barber chair when Laura looked in the window. Hank was facing the counter doing something with his supplies so Laura opened the door and walked in, not something she would do if he’d had a customer.

  “Afternoon, Hank.” Laura smiled at him. He was handsome she thought. Maybe not the best-looking man ever but pleasing to her. He was always neat, had been even before she began doing his laundry. He had on a white shirt and black pants. Black suspenders ran up his back molding the shirt to his frame. There were black armbands holding his sleeves away from his wrists.

  She hoped he would want to court her, but he hadn’t made any indications that he was interested. Maybe he was afraid of taking on a family. That was another thing she hoped to accomplish with him watching her boys, getting Eddie and Mark acquainted with Hank a bit more.

  Turning around, Hank smiled a greeting. “Afternoon, Laura. What brings you into the shop?”

  Laura twisted her fingers into the fabric of her skirt. “I was hoping you would do me a favor.”

  “Anything.”

  Laura laughed. “You really don’t want to offer that. You don’t know what I might ask for.”

  “No, I suppose I don’t. Okay, how about—if it’s in my power, of course.” Hank finished wiping a comb and laid it on a towel on the counter.

  “Mrs. Preston is having a lady’s tea at the church on Thursday afternoon. All the ladies of the House are planning on attending. I, um, well—It will most likely go a bit longer than school. Several of the older children will be watching the younger ones, but I was wondering if you would be willing to have Eddie and Mark here for the time?

  “You had stated you wanted to get to know them better. I’ll make sure they know that what you tell them needs to be obeyed. I think they would enjoy watching you work. They’ve never been to a real barber. We just do the clipping needed at the House.” Laura’s words tumbled from her mouth at a rapid pace.

  Hank picked up a razor and his strop, stroking the blade along the leather. “I don’t see that as a problem. Might not have any customers even. Often don’t on a Thursday. It would give me a chance to get to know them a bit. How long do you think I’d have them?”

  “I can’t think more than an hour. Mrs. Preston must know most of the women have children who will be dismissed from school mid-afternoon.”

  Hank smiled at her. “I’d be most pleased to host your boys for an hour or so on Thursday.” He winked at her. “Just put the fear of God in them about minding what I say. I was a boy at one time myself, you know.”

  ~~~~~

  A plate of cookies sat on a high shelf beside the mirror above the counter waiting for the Duffle boys to arrive. Hank had gone to the bakery next door and purchased a variety to offer them, remembering how hungry he had always been when he’d gotten home from school. Maybe they would get a snack at the House before they came to stay with him at the barbershop, but he wanted to be ready to feed them if they came straight there.

  One thing was concerning him, however. He’d been unusually busy this afternoon. A number of men had got off the morning westbound train and entered the hotel earlier in the day. Several had come into the shop requesting shaves and baths. Employees of a railroad company, they were having a meeting in Stones Creek to decide if a spur heading south would be built here. More arrived on a later train. Now, he had one man in the chair, two more wanting shaves, one in each of the bathing rooms, with all the rest of the men in the shop also wanting baths. Hank would be busy tending to not just the barbering, but also the bathing needs.

  Hank knew Laura would understand if he canceled, but he didn’t want to disappoint her. He also wanted to spend time with her boys, but this crowd in his shop wasn’t going to allow that.

  He wiped the last of the shaving soap from the customer’s face and raised the back of the chair. “You’re all done here. Have a seat, and as soon as there’s a bathing room available, you’ll have it.”

  The man stood and moved to a chair, expressing his thanks. Hank went down the hall and knocked on each of the two doors, calling that the bath time was up and they should finish and dress. He pulled his pocket watch from his vest and marked the time. If they weren’t out in around five minutes, he’d knock again.

  He asked the next man to get in the chair as he heard running footsteps on the boardwalk outside. He was wrapping the man’s face in a steaming towel as the door opened and two boys entered, stopping dead in their tracks as they saw the five men looking at them.

  “Come on in, boys,” Hank said, making sure he gave a smile of welcome. “It’s a bit crowded at the moment, but it’ll clear out some shortly. I’ve got some cookies here if you’re hungry.”

  The tentative looks on the young faces vanished, and they came forward, pulling their caps from their heads as they came. Hank noted that both boys could use a trim and hoped he’d have time to give them one before their mother came to get them.

  He settled the boys in a corner with the plate between them and went to tend the bathing rooms, getting them prepared for the next bathers. The men were chatting with the boys about their favorite subjects; lunchtime and recess, when he came back.

  “Eddie,” Hank said. “Can you get towels and place two in each of the bathing rooms, for me, please?”

  “Sure,” the boy’s excitement over having a job was palpable. “From the basket Mama brings back?”

  “Yes.”

  Eddie ran down the hall while Hank began shaving his customer.

  “Their mother is at a church tea and asked if I’d watch them after school.”

  “She does Mr. Johnson’s laundry. A bunch of other men’s clothes, too,” Mark said around the cookie he’d stuffed in his mouth.

  “Oh?” one of the railroad men said.

  “Yes, she has a laundry business here in town. Much appreciated by the single men around these parts.” Hank tipped his customer’s chin a little.

  “Hear tell you have single women here in town,” another man said.

  Hank went on to explain about Sanctuary House and the women and children living there. Meanwhile, the men who had bathed, paid and left. Eddie came back and sat beside his brother, scarfing several cookies off the plate. With wide eyes, he also watched Hank as he shaved, then trimmed the hair of the man in the chair. That made Hank stand a little taller. Having the youngster interested in his work appealed to him.

  It wasn’t long before all the waiting men were shaved, and the last two were being led down the hallway to the bathing rooms. Once they were settled, he’d spend some time talking with Eddie and Mark. He hoped they’d ask him questions about barbering since he didn’t really know what else to talk with them about.

  When he reentered the shop, he stopped, took in a breath to yell, then, instead, leaped forward, grabbing the straight razor from Eddie’s hand. Hank couldn’t speak. His heart was pounding, and no air seemed to be in his lungs.

  Little seven-year-old Mark was swathed in the large white and blue striped apron. Shaving soap was daubed on his face and neck. He looked so little sitting in the big chair. A thin line of red stained the foam on his throat.

  “What did you think you were doing?” Hank finally gasped out. He looked from the slowly welling blood to Eddi
e.

  “I was gonna shave Mark.” Eddie looked at his brother, and his eyes rounded wide. “I cut him. I cut his throat. Is he gonna die? Did I kill him?”

  Mark put a hand to his throat. “Ouch. The soap stings.”

  Hank threw the razor onto the counter and, grabbing a towel, wiped the soap away from the cut. Relief flooded him. It was a slight wound. No more than a paper cut on a finger. It could have been a tragedy though.

  Eddie was crying, and Mark was holding his fingers over the cut which wasn’t really bleeding anymore. Hank gathered both boys in his arms and mumbled what he hoped would be comforting words. He was totally lost with what to do.

  The shop door opened, and Laura walked in.

  ~~~~~

  Laura smiled as she pushed the barbershop door opened. She’d had such a good time at the tea. Leah Steele, Norie Pierce, Almeda Wilson and Sara Cutler were becoming good friends to all the ladies of the House. So was Vernie Preston, but she really had to be since she was the pastor’s wife.

  Laura wished she’d had a new dress to wear, but her one good dress had to do. Everyone had seen it before. Most of the women only had one good dress which they wore every Sunday and to any event worthy of their best outfits.

  Several of the town women weren’t interested in becoming friends, exhibiting disapproval of the House ladies. They were the ones who, from the first proposal of Sanctuary House, objected to ladies of questionable background moving to Stones Creek. Though they didn’t speak their disapproval at the tea, the sentiment was evident.

  Even with the frowning ladies, Laura enjoyed the tea. They had made plans for the children’s Christmas pageant and planned a potluck for New Year’s Day, weather permitting.

  As Laura stepped into the barbershop, her smile froze on her face. Hank stood there with a boy on each arm. Eddie was crying and Mark, wrapped in a barber apron, had spots of shaving foam all over his face. She drew her eyebrows together. Something was wrong with his hair.

  “Um, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

  Eddie began crying harder. Mark wiped a hand across his face, got some of the soap in his eyes, and began crying. Hank looked like a rabbit smelling a fox. If he hadn’t been holding her sons, he would have been running out the back door as fast as he could.

  Laura picked her younger son out of Hank’s arms and set him on the counter, moving the razor to a high shelf. Placing a towel in the basin, she poured water on it and proceeded to wipe the soap from his face. Once Mark was cleared of foam and had stopped crying, she shifted her gaze to Hank. Eddie had stopped crying too, so the shop was quiet.

  “Okay, what did these hoodlums do?”

  “You’re mighty calm for coming in on that scene,” Hank said.

  “As the mother of two boys who live in a house with five others, not much other than copious amounts of blood or bones sticking through skin upsets me.”

  “Mama, I’m sorry. I didn’t know I coulda killed him.”

  Laura shifted her gaze back and forth between Mark, Eddie, and Hank. “Well, now I might get upset. Tell me what happened.” Laura knew her voice was tight, and she really needed to know just what she had walked in on.

  “I’ve been really busy this afternoon. Some railroad men came to town today and wanted shaves and baths. There are still two in the back rooms now. The boys had been really good.” Laura saw Hank flick his gaze between them. “I left them with a plate of cookies to tend the bathing rooms and came back to—“Hank swallowed, his Adam’s apple lifting as he did so.

  Laura lifted an eyebrow.

  “Eddie was attempting to shave Mark.” Hank swallowed again, then hurried on. “I grabbed the razor, but there was a tiny cut. It stopped bleeding almost immediately. I think it was more of a scrape than a cut.”

  She turned back and examined Mark’s throat, relieved when she found the small red line. It was as Hank described. Not more than a shallow scrape.

  Laura stabbed her older son with a stern glare. “Were you supposed to touch any of Mr. Johnson’s barbering equipment?”

  “No, ma’am.” The words were uttered barely above a whisper.

  “What did I say the consequences would be if you touched them?”

  “No dessert for a week and, um, have to stay in my room after school every day for a week.”

  “So, where are you going right at this moment?”

  Eddie lifted his face from looking at the floor to peer at her. “To my room.”

  “That’s right and no dawdling. Now git. No, wait. Do you have anything you should say to Mr. Johnson?” Laura drew her brows together and tilted her head. Eddie got the message.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Johnson. I shouldn’t have touched your things.”

  Hank cleared his throat. “No, you shouldn’t but— You’ve learned a lesson, I hope. If you don’t know what you are doing, barbering tools can be dangerous.”

  “Yes, sir.” Eddie turned to leave then turned back. “Sorry, Mark. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “It didn’t hurt much. The soap in my eyes hurt worse.”

  Laura cleared her throat. Eddie headed down the hall and shortly, they heard the back door open and close.

  “I’m sorry, Laura,” Hank began.

  She held up her hand stopping him. “Mark, honey.” Laura turned to face her younger son. “Why did you let Eddie try to shave you and um…” She flicked her fingers through his hair. There were chunks missing from various places all over his head. Seems the boys had been left to themselves a bit too long.

  “You said I needed a haircut and Eddie had been watching Mr. Johnson cut the men’s hair. He said he could do it since it looked so easy.”

  Laura pulled her lips between her teeth to keep from laughing or even smiling at Mark’s assessment of what it took to be a barber. She glanced at Hank. His mouth was pulled down in a frown. No doubt about it. Her sons hadn’t endeared themselves to him.

  Just then voices could be heard approaching from the hallway leading to the bathing rooms. It must be the railroad bigwigs. They entered the shop, and Hank spent a few minutes chatting and being paid. Once they left, he came to her side with tentative steps.

  “How about I fix the mess Eddie made of Mark’s hair?” The question was asked quietly.

  “I’d appreciate that. I’m able to do a simple trim but this—“ Laura flicked Mark’s hair again. “It’s beyond my skill level. Even though my children seem to think barbering is a pretty easy thing to do.” She eyed Mark letting him know his opinion was in error. He looked down and fiddled with the apron he was still enveloped in.

  Hank grabbed a wide board from beside the counter and placed it on the barber chair. It straddled the arms, raising the seating area. Sitting Mark on it, he picked up a comb and pair of scissors. Laura stepped back.

  Spying the empty plate on the floor, she stooped and picked it up. “Just how many cookies were on here to begin with?”

  ~~~~~

  Hank swept the last of the hair on the floor into the dustpan and dumped it into the wastebasket. Laura simply amazed him. She had seemed so calm and collected during the entire unfortunate episode. She was picking up around the shop while he cleaned up the mess Eddie had made of Mark’s hair.

  Since Laura hadn’t wanted him to shave the boy’s head, there were still places that were shorter than others, but time would take care of that. Hank had told her to bring him back in a couple of weeks, and he’d trim it more evenly. Right now, his scalp would show through in a few places.

  Hank picked up the board he’d thrown onto the seat of the barber chair when he began sweeping. When the back door closed behind Mark as he headed back to the House, Laura had shoved it off, letting it slam onto the floor with a loud bang. She’d flopped down in the chair and curled over placing her face in her hands.

  “Oh. My. Word. I can’t believe Eddie thought he could not only cut Mark’s hair but also give him a shave with a straight razor. What was he thinking?”

  Then she’d lo
oked up at him. Her eyes finally revealing the stress of holding her emotions in while her sons had been in the shop.

  “It’s my fault. I should have made sure the boys understood they weren’t to touch the tools.” Hank’s guilt at what might have happened ate at his soul. Laura had trusted him with her most precious possession, her children, and one might have been grievously injured.

  “Yes, you could have told them, but they had been warned by me, and they chose not to obey. The responsibility for their obedience belongs to them. There is no temptation we don’t have a way out from, if we will take it. I don’t know how many times I’ve told those boys that. But I’m just their mother. And they are just boys.”

  Hank watched her shoulders slump in defeat. He realized then that it must be extremely tough to raise boys without a father in the picture. His father had been the one to place the fear of God in him. To show him that there was always someone to be accountable to.

  Boys needed men to be that for them. They knew they would grow up and be physically stronger than their mothers. There would come a time when character mattered more than strength of body. That making the right choice came from an inner strength rather than an outer one. Some men never learned that.

  “Laura, I’m sorry. I know I failed you and them. I…”

  “No, Hank. You know boys.” She grinned at him. “You were one once. I’m sure you got into just as much trouble as mine did today. Thankfully, nothing but a bad haircut and small scrape on the neck were the consequences. At least we didn’t need Doc Eli. That’s always a blessing.”

  Even though Laura was smiling at him, Hank still felt the weight of the events of the last hour.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Hank opened the door to the barbershop and stepped outside. “Come on in, Eddie. It’s cold out here. I don’t want you to catch a fever.” The next day was Thanksgiving, so he’d been busy all day. It was late afternoon, and school had let out at noon. There would be no school on the holiday or the day after.

  The nine-year-old turned red from being caught spying in the window. With shuffling steps, Eddie passed Hank and entered the warmth of the building.

 

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