Polka With Pauline

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Polka With Pauline Page 6

by Caroline Clemmons


  “You know I won’t if you ask me not to but Fred is going to find out soon enough.”

  “Creighton said he should ask Papa for my hand while Papa’s here. I told him to wait and let Papa get used to the idea of Creighton for a while.” She wheeled her aunt into the parlor.

  Her aunt laughed. “You’re right. I know my brother and he has to think about things for a while until he decides it was his idea in the first place.”

  Pauline laughed with her. “We do know Papa, don’t we?”

  Uncle Henry arrived with her father in tow. “Look who I found wandering the street.”

  Pauline rushed to hug her father. “I’m so glad you’re here, Papa. How are you? Are you alone? Have you had breakfast?”

  “Fine, yes, and yes. I could use a cup of coffee.”

  “Go into the kitchen while I bring Aunt Nancy.”

  “I heard you were on wheels Nancy. You’ll use any excuse to take it easy.” He smiled, supposedly to show he was joking. His voice didn’t sound jovial.

  “I have been taking life easy, that’s for sure. Pauline has taken excellent care of me as well as keeping me company.”

  Uncle Henry poured coffee for everyone. “She’s taking good care of me, too. I feel a lot better since she came. She’s a terror if I try to eat something I’m not supposed to have, though. This girl can be a tyrant when she wants to be.”

  “They threatened mutiny yesterday. I let them escape because they were going to hang me from the yardarm, whatever that is.”

  Her father appeared puzzled. He’d never acquired the hang of being playful or silly. Everything was serious to him. Aunt Nancy said he was even like that as a child. Pauline wondered what had shaped his personality.

  While the oatmeal was cooking, Pauline toasted bread. “Uncle Henry brought home oranges yesterday so we can have fresh orange juice.”

  Papa looked up from his coffee. “Sounds good. I’ll join you in a glass.”

  Uncle Henry sat to Papa’s right. “Tell me all the news. What’s going on in Denver?”

  “Same old things.” He launched into a review of what must be all their mutual acquaintances.

  She dished up the oatmeal and set it and the orange juice at each place then refilled coffee cups. At least the oatmeal wasn’t lumpy. She’d added cinnamon and raisins while it was cooking. In her opinion, the taste was good and it was one of the foods her uncle’s doctor had recommended.

  Papa frowned. “That’s what you feed your aunt and uncle?”

  “Did you not hear him say he felt better? It would do you good to eat like this occasionally.”

  Papa harrumphed and drank his juice. “I believe I’ll have a slice of toast.”

  Uncle Henry passed the butter and marmalade. “I like sausage and eggs with my toast but the Little Dictator here won’t allow it.”

  She smiled at her uncle. “Could that be because the doctor said you are not supposed to have those two things?”

  “As you can tell she sasses me all the time.” Her uncle winked at her.

  Her father looked at his sister. “How are you feeling, Nancy? You look well but you still have that cast. Must hurt like the devil.”

  “My leg did, but not so much now. I’m fortunate Pauline was able to find this wheelchair for me to borrow so I can leave the bed. But, if I sit in this too long, my foot and leg swell and that does ‘hurt like the devil’ as you put it.”

  Papa frowned in apparent concern. “What do you do when that happens—or to prevent it from happening?”

  “I rest each afternoon and so does Henry. You can see he’s much stronger and my terrible cast will come off eventually.”

  “So sorry that happened to you. Are you well otherwise?”

  “Oh, yes. I’m aggravated I can’t work in the garden or flower beds. Time has dragged since I’m confined to the house.” She looked at Uncle Henry, who had opened his mouth to speak. “Before you say it, I’m trying to be patient for another month until the cast comes off.”

  Papa smiled at Pauline. “And, my little girl can come home.”

  “Um, I need to stay longer than that, Papa. Aunt Nancy will be restricted in her movements for several weeks after she’s free of the cast. If she re-broke the leg that would be horrible.”

  “Harrumph. Wouldn’t have anything to do with this beau of yours would it?”

  Aunt Nancy looked at her brother. “Fred, I will need her to help me for some time. Remember I haven’t walked in weeks. The doctor said I’ll be unsteady and will have to restrict my exercise. I simply can’t go through this again.”

  He looked contrite. “Of course not. Once is one time too many.”

  Uncle Henry patted his wife’s hand. “You have that right. Poor Nancy really suffered. Pauline has been a lifesaver. We couldn’t get this kind of loving care from someone we hired.”

  Papa had offered to pay for someone to nurse his sister instead of sending Pauline. His jaw clenched now but he said nothing else. He really hated her being out of his sight.

  She cleared the table and tried for a change of subject. “I thought Mama might come with you.”

  He shook his head and gave a dismissive wave. “She has some fool charity thing this afternoon that she’s directing. I can’t keep them all straight. I just give her a check and let her fill it in.”

  She laughed. “An admirable trait in a husband.” Oops, she’d opened herself to criticism there.

  “Do you think furniture maker husbands can do that?”

  “I don’t know, Papa. I don’t know any married furniture makers. Do you?” She turned her back to them while she washed dishes. She wished Papa and Uncle Henry would go into the parlor.

  Her uncle must have read her mind. “Why don’t we go where we’ll be more comfortable, Fred? I imagine you’re tired after your train ride. Nancy, I’ll wheel you in with us.”

  She heard the buzz of conversation and took her time cleaning the kitchen. When she’d dallied as long as she dared, she joined the others in the parlor.

  Her stomach muscles knotted and spasmed when she thought about the grilling her father would give Creighton this evening at dinner.

  ***

  Pauline had been listening for steps on the porch and answered the doorbell. Creighton stood on the porch smiling.

  He kissed her cheek and whispered, “Here’s the lamb, lead me to the slaughter.”

  She hissed back, “Don’t even joke about Papa’s attitude. He’s ready for me to return to Denver the moment Aunt Nancy’s cast comes off. I haven’t told him I won’t be coming back except to visit. Cowardly as it sounds, I told him I would be staying weeks after to help my aunt and to insure she doesn’t re-break her leg.”

  He caressed her cheek then tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Relax, Pauline. I promise to remain calm no matter what and I’ll watch what I say.”

  “No, I’m worried about what he’ll say and how he’ll make you feel, not what you’ll do or say.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll remember he’s your father and has in mind what he thinks are your best interests. Shall we go into the parlor or do you want to run away together?” He grinned and gestured toward the parlor doorway.

  “Don’t tempt me.” She punched him lightly on the arm then, speaking normally, she said, “Come in with the others and meet my father.”

  After she made introductions, she lingered. Essentially their meal was ready. She had it resting where nothing would burn or dry out for a short while. With a deep sigh, she tried to relax.

  Creighton sat on the couch. Pauline sat in the rocking chair, which she loved. Creighton smiled at her and she returned the gesture.

  Evidently her father noticed the exchange. He looked at Creighton and then at her.

  “Is this the famous rocking chair? Very nice workmanship. Unusual design.”

  Uncle Henry said, “Unique, Fred. Designed specifically for Nancy. No other like it in the world.”

  Aunt Nancy was parked next to where
Pauline sat. She reached over and patted Pauline’s hand. “How long until dinner?”

  “We can eat anytime.” She stood. “Papa, try out the rocker while I go set out the food dishes. You’ll love how comfortable it is.”

  Escaping to the kitchen, she tried to calm herself. She wondered what terrible things Jasper had said about Creighton. Obviously Jasper had mentioned a lot because Papa knew about the rocker.

  Creighton’s voice drifted in explaining about the wood used and the structure. She’d never realized how much went into creating furniture.

  After she’d called them to the kitchen they sat and began the meal of roast beef, potatoes, carrots, pickled beets, green beans, corn, and rolls.

  Aunt Nancy tried to swat her. “Why did you put out pickled beets? You know I can’t resist them and I drop food on me now I have to eat sideways like this. They stain, too.”

  “I made provision.” Pauline unfolded a small tablecloth and wrapped it around her aunt.

  Aunt Nancy and the men laughed.

  Her aunt smoothed the fabric over her. “This should help. This old tablecloth was in the ragbag to be cut up for cleaning rags.”

  They chatted about the weather while they dug into their food.

  Papa looked at her. “You’re an excellent cook, Pauline. I admit I’m surprised since you never had to cook at home.”

  “I cooked more than you knew. Mama didn’t like for me to be in the kitchen. She thought I should leave that to Mrs. Brown because that’s what she was paid to do. I wanted to learn, though, and pestered Mrs. Brown until she taught me. I often prepared a portion of our meals.”

  “I had no idea. Well, I suppose it’s a good thing you can be a pest.” Papa smiled at her.

  “I’m sure you must mean some other daughter is a pest.”

  Papa directed his attention to Creighton. “Where did you grow up?”

  “In Denver until I was sixteen.”

  Papa appeared to mull that over. “Reed, are you related to Sam Reed in Denver?”

  “I have no idea. My father died when I was a few months old and I know nothing about him except his name, which was Thomas Ezekiel Reed. My mom was Naomi Ruth. Her maiden name was Sanders.”

  “You should ask your mother. You might have influential relatives.”

  “Believe me, I’d love to ask her many things but I don’t know where she is. I haven’t seen her since she left me at the Denver Children’s Home when I was two and I’m twenty-six now. She couldn’t support herself and look after me. I remained there until I was sixteen. All I have about my family is a photo of the three of us when I was a baby.”

  Her father “That’s too bad. You ever tried to look for her?”

  “Yes, but I don’t even know that she’s still in Denver or even still alive. All I know is her name but she’s probably remarried by now.”

  Pauline shook her head. “If she’d remarried and had a way to provide for you, she would have come for you.”

  Creighton smiled at her. “Depends. Many men don’t want another man’s child in the house.”

  “That’s a horrid attitude.”

  Papa sent her a sympathetic look. “Sad but true. Instead of thinking of the child as part of the woman they love, they see him or her as another man’s child.”

  “That’s terrible. I don’t think that’s true love.”

  Creighton patted her hand. “Life’s not always fair. Don’t worry, I’ve survived. I’m sure she did what she had to in order to survive herself and make certain I had care. That part of my life is over so I concentrate on now and on the future.”

  Uncle Henry raised his coffee cup in a toast. “Hear, hear. A sensible attitude, Creighton.”

  Papa wouldn’t rest until he’d put Creighton through The Spanish Inquisition. “I understand you make furniture full time. Is that profitable?”

  Creighton laughed. “By whose standards? I can’t compete with your bank account, but I do all right. I get orders from other cities as well as locally. Last week I shipped a bedroom suite to someone in Denver.”

  That seemed to impress her father. “Stealing our customers, eh? You must do a fair amount of advertising.”

  “No, sir, just word of mouth. People see one of my pieces at someone’s home and ask where it’s from. You can’t buy better advertising than that.”

  “That’s true. Still, a few well-placed ads couldn’t hurt.”

  “Until I’ve located an apprentice, I have all the work I can manage. Actually, I’d like two young men to apprentice. There are a lot of things they could do and give me more time to do the unique parts.”

  Eager to end her father’s questioning Creighton, Pauline held up an apple cobbler. “Who’s ready for dessert?”

  Chapter Eight

  Creighton thought Mr. Brubaker would seek him out before the man returned to Denver. Clearly, her father had planned for Pauline to marry Jasper Taggart and live in Denver. If she were Creighton’s daughter, he’d no doubt feel the same—but only because her father didn’t know Taggart as well as he thought he did.

  He wasn’t surprised when there was a knock at his workshop door the following afternoon. As he’d expected, Fred Brubaker was his guest.

  Creighton stood aside to allow the man to enter. “Good afternoon, Mr. Brubaker.”

  The visitor scanned the surroundings. “You don’t act surprised to see me.”

  “I suspected you’d talk to me privately before you went back to Denver.”

  Mr. Brubaker examined the completed furniture against the wall. “You do exceptional work. I’ll give you that.”

  “Thank you. I invest thought and skill into each piece I create. Those are speculation samples. Most of my sales are for customers who want something specific designed for them, something unique.”

  “You can’t possibly make much money because of the time that must take.”

  Creighton ran his fingers over the table he’d created for his new home. “I do all right. I’ll never be wealthy by your standards, but I make enough to be secure and live comfortably. In fact, as I mentioned I’m looking for an apprentice or two to train so I can produce more.”

  “I see.” Mr. Brubaker gestured around the workshop. “You plan to remain here for the near future?”

  “No, eventually I’ll be customizing a new workshop with more space. Not a lot more, but I can arrange it so that the work area is more efficient.”

  “You’ll have to move your living quarters, won’t you?”

  Creighton debated telling his future father-in-law his full plans. Pauline had suggested he wait. He wouldn’t lie, though, and Mr. Brubaker had asked him a direct question.

  Mr. Brubaker snapped, “Well, had that occurred to you?”

  “It had and I plan to move to another place.”

  Mr. Brubaker gestured with a sweeping swing of his arm. “I hope it will be in a better area than this. You’re close to decent homes but this hardly qualifies.”

  He gestured around the workshop. “When I moved here, this was the only space available that fit my requirements. I never intended this to be permanent. Did you begin with a large department store?”

  Shock spread across his visitor’s face. “Uh… well, no. As a matter of fact, I rented a space and took over the stock of a small dry goods store. Since then, I’ve worked long hours and built a chain of four department stores.”

  “Pauline explained that. She’s proud of you and all you’ve accomplished.”

  Mr. Brubaker’s features relaxed and he smiled. “Hearing that is a relief. I’ve been afraid she might resent me working late so often.”

  His smile disappeared and he waved dismissively. “See here, I didn’t come to talk about me. I came to negotiate a deal with you.”

  “What is that?” Creighton couldn’t think of anything he had that this man would want.

  Mr. Brubaker took something from his inside jacket pocket. “I’ve made this check out to you for the sum of five thousand dollars. It’s yours
if you agree never to see my daughter again.”

  Fury swelled in Creighton. “Mr. Brubaker, you not only insult me but also Pauline. Regardless of your opinion of me, you should trust your daughter enough to know she is too intelligent to be interested in an unsuitable man. She is twenty-two, not sixteen. She is a strong, independent woman with sound judgment.”

  Mr. Brubaker shook the check under Creighton’s nose. “If she’s interested in you, she’s chosen an unsuitable man. I warn you that if she marries you I’ll disinherit her.”

  Creighton took a deep, slow breath to quash his desire to throttle the older man. “I realize I’m not good enough for Pauline. I doubt any man is. Let me assure I do not want your money or control of your department stores. Can’t you understand that I love your daughter more than my life and love her for herself? When I told you she is proud of you what I didn’t tell you is that she resents your efforts to control her life.”

  “Control her life? Of course I try. I’m her father and it’s my job to see she’s protected and cared for. To do that, I’ll see she marries a man from her own social circle who can give her the things she has now. One who will provide whatever is needed for her children.”

  “What about love? If you see her marrying Jasper Taggart, you’re mistaken. Now there’s a man who is after your stores and willing to do whatever it takes to get them and Pauline.”

  “I don’t have to listen to you criticize me or Jasper.” He slapped the check on top of the table. “If you cash this, I’ll know you’ve taken my warning.”

  Creighton grabbed the check and ripped it into four pieces. “That’s what I think of your offer, Mr. Brubaker. My integrity is not for sale. I don’t believe we have anything else to discuss. You can see your way to leave”

  “You… you are throwing me out? Young man, you have no idea what you’re doing.” Mr. Brubaker’s face reddened until Creighton feared the man was having a heart attack.

  But, he stalked to the door and opened it then pointed at Creighton. “You’ll regret this. You’ve made a grave error.” He slammed the door as he departed.

 

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