Little Shoes and Mistletoe

by Sally Laity

  “That’s putting it rather mildly, but you did ask.” Ana wagged her head in disbelief, her pompadour shifting ever so slightly with the motion.

  “But, don’t you see?” Eliza pressed on. “It’s a way to help those who can’t help themselves. As Pastor Norman said in his sermon, it’s a way to serve God. A very noble way. Children are very dear to His heart.”

  “Yes, but one must look at the more practical side. Think of your sickly aunt in this houseful of lovely things having to endure the excessive racket children seem so fond of.”

  “But—”

  “And that’s another thing,” she went on, tapping the bowl of her spoon on the table for emphasis. “They wouldn’t even be children of. . .well, of class. They’d be riffraff, Eliza. Ragamuffins. Dirty, likely infested with lice or other such disgusting vermin. Perhaps even ill.”

  “But no less dear to the Lord,” Eliza countered. “One’s class is of little import here in America. We’re all equal. And as far as dirt, that would wash away in a bath, and then we could provide the ragamuffins with some decent clothing.”

  Anabelle regarded her steadily, then raised her chin a notch. “Micah couldn’t interest me in his plight, so he’s latched on to you. He put you up to this, didn’t he?”

  Stunned by her friend’s accusation, Eliza vehemently shook her head. “No. Aunt Phoebe asked me the same question last eve, and I assured her as I’m assuring you, this entire thing is my idea. Micah knows nothing of it. I haven’t mentioned it to him at all. There’d be no reason to unless my aunt agrees to it.”

  Appearing somewhat mollified, Anabelle’s features softened to their more natural beauty. “Forgive me, Eliza. I get quite upset when Micah suggests I involve myself in his calling. But I simply cannot do it. I loathe filth of any sort, bad smells, and places where diseases are rampant. Nothing would make me happier than for him to find some other line of employment.”

  “I’m sorry to say, I see little chance of that,” Eliza admitted in all honesty. “He truly cares for those poor little ones, Ana. And the Lord reaches out to them through Micah. I do wish you’d go with him once, just to see how he talks to them, how he loves them. You’d feel differently, I’m sure.”

  “I doubt that.” A shudder racked Anabelle’s slim shoulders. “I’ll never set foot in those hovels. I will pray for those people. I’ll sew quilts for them and contribute funds. I’ll even endure having my betrothed going among them when it’s necessary. But that’s as far as my constitution will allow.”

  Watching her friend’s expressive face, Eliza knew she’d spoken truthfully. Not everyone possessed the fortitude required to work among the lowly masses. Anabelle had a good heart, but it was one that needed to be in an environment that was clean and sterile. Letting out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding, she patted Ana’s hand. “Well, would you still help me to fix up an appealing room, if Auntie decides in my favor?”

  “I can’t see why I shouldn’t. It could be a lot of fun, really.”

  “And perhaps you might be prevailed upon to sew some dresses and nightclothes from time to time?”

  Grudgingly, Anabelle acquiesced. “If necessary.”

  “That’s all I ask,” Eliza said. But inside, she pitied her friend. She was so wrapped up in fear of the unknown, she could never know the joy that came from helping others.

  thirteen

  Phoebe watched Eliza fussing about the room without ever making eye contact in her hurry to straighten things up. The girl was trying so hard to pretend that this morning was no different from any other. But the request she’d made the night before hung between them like yesterday’s wash.

  From the day of her arrival, Eliza had been like a ray of sunshine in the gloom of her solitary existence, and she had so quickly grown used to her niece’s presence she could hardly remember what life had been like before. Eliza was a huge help around the place, quickly mastering the skills needed to keep the shop stocked with popular items. And she took it upon herself to do chores before they were mentioned. Yet the girl had not asked anything for herself. Not until now.

  Studying her, she saw that Eliza looked particularly fetching this morning, having donned a chocolate-colored morning gown with a printed design in shades of rust and gray. Switching her gaze from her niece’s lissome form to the nearly finished breakfast before her, she raised her cup and took a hearty sip of the freshly brewed tea.

  “Can I do anything else for you, Aunt, before I open the shop?” Eliza asked, finally looking her way.

  “No, dear, I’m quite fine, thank you. But I would like to say something first.”

  Eliza’s expressive features fell a few notches in uncertainty. She approached the bed and stood there, nervously twisting the handle of the feather duster in her hands, eyes bright with hope, her heightened coloring revealing the fragility of her dream.

  “I’ve been giving a good deal of thought to your proposal, Eliza, along with conferring with the Lord about the matter.”

  Eliza moistened her lips.

  “And I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but. . .I’m willing to give you the opportunity to do what you feel you must.”

  Her niece let out a tiny gasp. “Truly? Oh, Auntie!” Bending over, Eliza threw her arms about her and kissed her cheek. “Oh, thank you. Thank you. Anabelle and I will start looking for things we’ll need right away.”

  “Before you go too much out of your way, check the attic. I did sell some of the furniture I wasn’t using after Cap died, but I’m quite sure there’s a sturdy bedstead, at least, and perhaps a few other items you might find handy.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea. I’ll go right up and see what’s there. It’ll give me a better idea of what’s lacking.”

  “Indeed.” She continued to regard her niece with a wary eye. “Of course, we may find out this whole scheme is impractical, you know. So I thought perhaps a trial run of, say, a month to six weeks. And, keep in mind, dear, you’ll be taking on a lot. Should you decide to give up the plan later, I’ll not fault you in any way.”

  Eliza’s smile eclipsed the sun’s brilliance. “I just can’t thank you enough. I was afraid even to hope.” She paused to draw breath, then continued in a rush, her words tumbling over themselves. “I realize it’s going to cause some changes around here, but I promise to do my utmost to see that your life and your routine are affected as little as possible. You’ll see.”

  “Yes, well, I assume we both will. In any event, you may take my tray now. And thank you for the lovely breakfast.”

  “You’re ever so welcome. I’ll be back to check on you soon.” With the dazzling smile making her appear even younger than she was, she left the room.

  Phoebe sank back against her pillows. “Dear Lord, I sure hope You know what You’ve gotten me into.”

  ❧

  Eliza could hardly wait to get started on the new project. Working closely with Anabelle would be great fun—and not to be overlooked was the added bonus of keeping her own mind too busy to dwell on matters best ignored. With that thought, she headed for the enclosed staircase leading to the attic.

  Not enough heat wafted from below to do much good in the steep-slanted top story of Harper House, she discovered upon ascending to its lofty heights. And in contrast to the warm sunshine, a brisk breeze whistled and howled around the structure’s angles, adding an eerie quality to the venture. The cold made Eliza’s teeth chatter as she stepped over a toppled dress form and picked her way through the dusty memorabilia of years gone by.

  Arms crossed as she glanced around, Eliza debated going through any of the storage chests abutting one of the low walls. Undoubtedly they would contain outdated clothing, perhaps some seafaring mementoes that once belonged to Uncle Amos. And the old lamp standing dejectedly at the end of the row was not suitable for a child, nor would any of the paintings be, she was sure. Her captain un
cle’s tastes had leaned toward dark stormy seas, with stalwart vessels tossing among the churning waves.

  But then her gaze fell upon the bedstead Aunt Phoebe had mentioned, and she stepped nearer to examine it more closely. Even under the coating of dust she recognized the rich cherrywood bed which had once graced her aunt’s other guest room. As her fingers lightly traced the carved design in the wood, it brought back pleasant memories. She saw that the headboard and footboard were propped against each other, with the side pieces stacked neatly on the floor in front of them. There didn’t seem to be a mattress anywhere in sight, but it couldn’t take more than a few days to arrange for one. During that time, the room could be made ready. And against the far wall, she noticed, stood the matching wardrobe. Together the set was a wondrous find!

  Tossing a cursory glance around the remainder of the chilly area, she brushed her hands together and left for the stairs, decidedly elated over her good fortune.

  “Well,” Aunt Phoebe asked on her return, “did you come across anything you might be able to use?”

  “Yes. As you said, the bedstead is there, along with the wardrobe. The two of them will be perfect.”

  She nodded. “Perhaps next time Micah comes by, we can prevail upon him to move those things down to the room for you.”

  “That would be marvelous. Well, I’d best wash the dust from my hands. It’s time to open the shop.”

  It was all Eliza could do to keep her mind on business that afternoon, so taken was she in imagining a wallpaper pattern that would turn the dreary room into a charming haven and what type of yard goods to purchase for curtains. And she’d only just now thought of toys. At the very least there should be picture books and some dolls to cuddle, perhaps a miniature tea set.

  It might do to have a ball and some toy soldiers, as well, though at the moment it seemed more prudent to plan for girls. With the likelihood of the Riccio sisters not being able to stay where they were for much longer, Eliza wanted to let Micah know there’d be a place where they would be looked after until permanent arrangements could be made.

  “I say,” the rather portly matron dressed entirely in black spoke up as she compared two lengths of handmade lace Eliza had given her to peruse. “Which of these would you say might look better used to accent the front of a shirtwaist?” She looked from one to the other and back, then peered up at Eliza.

  “If it were up to me, I’d use the one in your left hand. It’s just a touch heavier and would stand more wear.”

  “That’s just what I was thinking,” the older woman said with a smile. “I’ll take both.”

  “Excellent. Will that be all?”

  “Yes, miss. This is all I needed to finish my Christmas shopping.” Handing money to Eliza, along with her choices, she meandered among the remaining displays while her purchases were wrapped. “I thank you,” she said then, and with parcel in hand, she left.

  Eliza checked the mantel clock and sighed. Closing time at last. She hoped Anabelle would come by soon to hear about Aunt Phoebe’s decision.

  ❧

  “That should about do it, I’d say.” Micah set down his end of the wardrobe he and his friend Charles Sprocket had lugged down from the attic. “How many trips up and down those stairs did this enterprise entail, anyway?”

  The wiry redhead wiped his forehead on his sleeve and narrowed his gray eyes to a wince. “Between what we toted up there and what we brought back down to this room, must’ve been a dozen at least.”

  On the edge of his vision, Micah saw Anabelle jab an elbow into Eliza’s ribs. “Would you listen to those poor, soft, overworked fellows. I never heard such moaning and groaning in my life.”

  “Nor have I,” she agreed as she and Ana began wiping down the wood cabinet inside and out. “Why, Aunt Phoebe was quite set on doing the entire chore herself until I convinced her some strong, handsome gentlemen would make short work of it.” She slanted Anabelle a merry glance, and they both giggled.

  Charles straightened to his full, unimpressive height and puffed out his chest, which only strengthened the nasal quality of his jesting voice. “Strong as a bull, eh?”

  The lad’s more-than-interested glances toward Mrs. Harper’s alluring niece were not lost on Micah. Obviously his friend was looking forward to escorting her to this evening’s sacred concert. “Don’t forget handsome,” Micah quipped, trying to keep the mood easygoing. “She said ‘handsome,’ too.” But the wink he’d intended for Ana ended up heading in Eliza’s direction instead. In their bustling about, the two had somehow changed places. He felt his neck growing warm.

  “In any event,” Eliza said more seriously, not letting on if she’d noticed his mistake, “we thank you for your trouble. It’s been a huge help.”

  “Seems like an awful lot to go through in wintertime for a mere bedroom,” Charles remarked.

  Micah tilted his head back and forth. “Oh, I don’t know. Mrs. Harper likes company. Must be more relatives coming for the holidays.”

  At his comment, Anabelle and Eliza traded sly smiles and returned to their chore with renewed fervor.

  Whatever this pair was up to, he decided, they seemed to be gaining a lot of enjoyment out of it. He hadn’t seen Ana so lively and bubbly in ages. As for Eliza, well, she’d been unaccountably effervescent since Dr. Jenson pronounced her aunt well two days ago. Still, what Anabelle had mentioned regarding a sad loneliness being evident in Eliza’s dusky blue eyes now seemed so obvious, Micah wondered why he’d missed noticing it before. He only hoped his redheaded pal treated the gently bred young woman with the respect she deserved.

  Beside him, Charles brushed some lingering dust from his trousers and vest, tugging the latter back into proper position. Then he arched his golden brows. “Well, hard work gives a man an appetite. I’m starving.”

  “Don’t fret,” Anabelle answered. “Eliza’s aunt is planning to serve us a light supper before we leave for the program.”

  “And we seem to be finished here,” Eliza added. “The food must be ready by now.”

  ❧

  The fact that Micah’s friend had come to lend a hand with the heavy furniture enabled Eliza to relax more than she normally would have in the presence of the virtual stranger. It also made it less awkward for her to agree to Anabelle’s suggestion that they make a night of it, since one of the area’s larger Presby-terian churches had scheduled a concert that evening.

  By the time they arrived to enjoy the collection of hymns and carols rendered by organ, flute, and violin, she felt at ease, if not thrilled, at being in the company of the jovial bachelor. She wasn’t quite ready to be escorted places by any young man but assured herself she could endure anything for a few hours. After all, she’d agreed to do this for Anabelle’s sake.

  Charles, she discovered not long into the program, had what appeared to be a nervous habit, in that he sniffed quite often. It hadn’t been obvious at Aunt Phoebe’s, as he’d been in and out of the room so much. But here in the quietness of the sanctuary, the intermittent sniffing stood out rather blatantly. Trying not to let on that she noticed, Eliza pretended to be looking the other way whenever he wiped his nose on a wrinkled handkerchief from his pocket. She almost wished he’d just blow the silly thing and be done with it. But the comical mental picture of him honking like a foghorn made her giggle inwardly.

  “Something the matter?” Anabelle whispered from the other side of her.

  Eliza shook her head and forced her attention toward the front, but it took awhile for her to completely compose herself, until well into the musical numbers.

  After the program, the foursome went to a nearby coffee- house called the Wooden Shoe. Each table was decorated in a Dutch motif with a red-and-white checked tablecloth and a vase containing red paper tulips, and Eliza noticed the menus were shaped like windmills. Only a few other tables were occupied when they entered, and those patrons gave them onl
y casual glances as they passed.

  Micah led their party to a quiet spot near the back of the establishment and seated Anabelle, while Charles pulled out Eliza’s chair for her with exaggerated aplomb. “Your throne, milady.”

  “I thank you,” she replied, elevating her eyebrows. His overt attentions merely encouraged her to maintain her distance from eager young bachelors in the future.

  Within seconds, a waitress in Dutch attire took their orders for pie and coffee.

  “That was a lovely concert,” Anabelle remarked over their dessert. “They played some of my very favorites.”

  “And I noticed you paying particular interest to the woman at the organ,” Eliza said.

  “It’s a habit of mine,” she confessed.

  “Well,” Micah told her, “that young woman couldn’t hold a candle to your talents, don’t you agree, Eliza?” He flashed a warm smile.

  Anabelle gave her no time to answer. She wrinkled her nose, her green eyes alight. “He always says the nicest things. Not always true, but nice, nonetheless.”

  Watching the interplay between them, Eliza wondered why they didn’t sit closer to each other and why their little shows of affection seemed so few and far between. They almost gave the impression of being an old married couple rather than a man and woman deeply in love.

  Well, it was no affair of hers, she told herself, and sampled another portion of her pie.

  “Did you enjoy the ensemble’s selection of musical numbers, Eliza?” Charles asked, his tone sincere.

  “Yes, I thought it was a splendid program, especially the carol arrangements. I had a lovely time.”

  “Good. I was hoping perhaps you’d consider attending another similar concert with me two evenings hence.”