Storing Up Trouble

by Jen Turano

  Theo blinked. “I don’t know if I’m willing to cut off any more of my hair, not with how much I’ve already parted with, and—”

  “Best leave this to an expert,” Gladys interrupted before she turned and nodded to a woman wearing a purple turban. “Della, do we have any available time this week to work Theodosia into our schedule?”

  “Oh, I don’t believe there’s any need for that,” Theo said weakly, a protest Gladys ignored as she kept her attention on Della, who was now rummaging around in a large bag she’d set by her feet, pulling out sheets of paper. She riffled through them and frowned.

  “Tonight’s out, as we’re on our way to attend a lecture held by the Cook County Suffrage Association.” She moved to another page. “Tomorrow’s out as well because you have a Chicago Woman’s Club meeting, followed by dinner at Mrs. Doggett’s home.” She considered the pages for a moment. “Saturday night you’re scheduled to go to McVicker’s Theater, and then Sunday isn’t feasible either because we have church, and then we’re taking a picnic lunch over to Mrs. Hanford in the hopes of raising her spirits after that nasty business of her daughter running off with that bounder who—” She stopped talking and shot a guilty look to Gladys. “Sorry about that. I included that tidbit in the notes I typed up, but that was for my personal benefit so I wouldn’t forget to be solicitous of Mrs. Hanford’s tender sensibilities.”

  Gladys inclined her head. “A prudent decision because Mrs. Hanford is still overwrought, but returning to the schedule?”

  “Right,” Della said, returning to the pages. A full minute passed before she lifted her head. “The Saturday after next is free. The only event scheduled is a seven-course dinner at home where Roberta and Susan are going to try to impress us with their culinary skills.”

  “Ah, marvelous,” Gladys said, nodding to Theo. “Dare I hope you have no plans for Saturday after next?”

  Theo shook her head rather reluctantly. “I don’t believe so.”

  “No engagements with a young gentleman scheduled?” Gladys pressed.

  “I don’t normally have engagements with gentlemen,” Theo mumbled. “Nor do I have a need of a schedule to keep track of those, due to the limited number of invitations I receive over a Season.”

  Norman frowned. “That’s not true. You often accompany me to social events, and you do have a scheduled engagement in a few weeks with a young gentleman since you’re attending the Palmer ball with Harvey Cabot.”

  “Harvey Cabot?” Gladys exclaimed before Theo could respond, the loudness of her voice drawing the attention of several diners. “Surely not, Theodosia. Why, he’s not suitable for you in the least. You’d be much better off going with Norman since the two of you seem quite comfortable in each other’s company.”

  “I’m not going with Norman,” Theo said firmly. “I’ve already promised Mr. Cabot I’ll go with him, and he’s really not an unsuitable gentleman for me to attend a ball with. Why, when he came to ask me to go to the ball with him, he was ever so charming and even brought me a bouquet of flowers.”

  Norman’s brow furrowed. “You never mentioned anything about flowers.”

  Theo lifted her chin. “Now I have.” She turned back to Gladys. “But Mr. Cabot aside, I do not have plans on the Saturday after next, but—”

  “Then it’s settled,” Gladys said before Theo could finish what was clearly going to be a protest on her part. “We’ll expect you at the house at . . . shall we say six? That’ll allow you to enjoy what I know will be a most exciting meal before Blanche attacks your hair.”

  A tinge of pink began to stain Theo’s cheeks. “The meals at your home can be considered exciting?”

  “The last time Roberta and Susan fixed a dinner,” Blanche said, “they tried to light a sauce on fire, but it caused an explosion and food went everywhere.”

  The trepidation residing in Theo’s eyes disappeared, replaced with curiosity. “Did they include too much alcohol in the sauce, or was extreme heat to blame for the explosion?”

  “You’ll be able to ask Roberta and Susan those very questions when you join us for dinner,” Gladys said with a nod, which sent her turban listing to the left. Pushing it back into place, she settled a smile on Theo, who was now staring at the turban, blatant curiosity in her eyes. “Is something amiss, dear?”

  “I was merely wondering why all of you are wearing turbans.”

  Gladys gave her turban a pat. “Oh, well, that’s easily explained, and is all due to—”

  Blanche suddenly interrupted her by clearing her throat in a very dramatic fashion.

  Gladys frowned. “Whatever is the matter with you, Blanche?”

  Blanche jerked her head in Theo’s direction. “Do you believe it wise to go into the turban business, what with how I’m soon to get an opportunity to test out my new product on Theodosia?”

  “Ah yes, quite right” was all Gladys said to that before she turned to Norman. “Because you’re apparently not going with Theodosia to the Palmer ball, may I be so forward as to inquire who you’ll be taking instead?”

  Norman shifted in his chair. “Weren’t we just talking about turbans?”

  Gladys gave an airy wave of her hand, sending her many bracelets jangling. “Not much else to say about those except that we feel they’re very fashionable and are hopeful this particular trend will catch on soon.” Her gaze sharpened. “Returning once again to the ball, who are you escorting?”

  “Ah . . .” Norman began.

  “His mother believes he should take Miss Pauline Dinneen or Miss Caroline Ashburn,” Theo said, finishing for him when he continued to sputter.

  “That will never do,” Gladys declared. “Those two ladies, while charming and the perfect pictures of decorum, will bore you to tears.” She nodded. “You’ll take Beatrix.”

  Beatrix sent her aunt a scowl. “You can’t order Norman to escort me to the ball. Besides, what if he doesn’t want to take me?”

  Gladys quirked a brow in his direction, which had him swallowing and turning his attention Beatrix’s way.

  “I wouldn’t, ah, mind taking you to the ball.”

  Gladys laughed even as she patted his arm. “How marvelous, Norman, although I do believe I’ll need to fit you into my schedule as well because you could certainly use a bit of help regarding how best to secure a lady’s agreement to attend an event with you.”

  “I never said I’d go to the ball with him,” Beatrix said, which, oddly enough, caused his stomach to lurch.

  “Of course you will,” Gladys contradicted. “Ladies enjoy having an opportunity to dance, and I know you’re no exception to that.” She smiled. “Now, mind your manners and tell Norman you’d be delighted to attend the ball with him.”

  Beatrix threw up her hands. “Fine, I’ll go to the ball with you, Norman.” She shot a look to her aunt. “Happy now?”

  “Ecstatic.”

  Unexpected relief slid through Norman until a troubling thought struck. “Will I be escorting you to the Palmers’ ball as well, Gladys?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Gladys said. “Edgar will be accompanying me.”

  “Your butler?” Norman asked.

  “Indeed. And now, with all of that settled, I’m in desperate need of some tea and cake.”

  The next thirty minutes were some of the most unusual minutes Norman had ever passed, probably because he’d never been in the company of such unusual women before.

  The conversation swirling between the two tables was what one could only describe as rousing. Gladys and her band of turban-wearing women first launched into a discussion about politics, which he always thought was a subject one shouldn’t discuss in company, given the animosity such a topic could bring out in people. They then began an earnest debate about the labor unions and how those unions were attempting to secure better hours and working conditions for the laborers. After that, Mamie broached the subject of bustles, which again, he’d thought was a subject that women never broached while in mixed company. How
ever, because Theo sat forward and was listening intently to every word uttered about bustles, he sat back in his chair and didn’t lodge a complaint, learning more than he ever thought he would about the subject.

  After Gladys and the women polished off most of their tea, coffee, and cakes, Blanche abandoned her table and pulled up a chair right beside Theo, where she immediately started inspecting Theo’s hair again.

  Theo, after sending Blanche a startled look, began trying her best to ignore Blanche’s attention, resettling her attention on the women sitting at the other table, who were now earnestly discussing the best theaters in Chicago to see a show, but at a reasonable price. Norman couldn’t help noticing the clear longing in Theo’s eyes as she watched the other women interact, although what she was longing for, Norman couldn’t say.

  “Good heavens, would you look at the time,” Gladys exclaimed after she’d pulled out a gentleman’s pocket watch. “We’re going to be late.” She returned the watch to her reticule, blotted her lips with her napkin, set the napkin aside, then clapped her hands, drawing everyone’s attention. “Ladies, we must take our leave.” She then gestured to one of the servers, who immediately stepped up to their table.

  “The check, if you please,” she told the man.

  “My treat,” Norman said, nodding to the server. “You may bring me the check.”

  Gladys nodded in approval as he helped her from her chair. “You are a surprisingly delightful man, and I certainly hope I’ll see you running through Hyde Park again.”

  “You’ve been running in Hyde Park?” Beatrix asked, moving closer to him, so close in fact that a hint of her perfume drifted to him, a scent he found most compelling.

  “Norman enjoys trying new places to run so that he doesn’t become bored with his chosen method of keeping himself in fine form,” Theo said for him, earning his eternal gratitude when he realized he’d allowed Beatrix’s perfume to render him all but mute.

  “Seems to be working for him since his form is very fine indeed,” Mamie said, which earned her a roll of the eyes from Gladys, who then bid him a hasty good-bye before she hustled Mamie out of the restaurant. The rest of the women followed quickly behind.

  “Do let me know if you hear anything of interest from the Pinkerton man,” Beatrix said, a statement that left him wincing because he’d forgotten all about the near disaster they’d experienced.

  “We’ll be certain to do that,” Theo said briskly as Beatrix nodded, bid them a good evening, then hurried to catch up with her aunt.

  Retaking his seat because he’d yet to settle their bill, Norman ran a hand over his face. “This has been a very interesting afternoon.”

  Theo didn’t hesitate to nod, her gaze settled on Gladys, who was now bustling past the restaurant window, her pink turban bobbing. “I have the uncanny feeling that I’m soon to find myself taken in hand by Gladys Huttleston.”

  Norman grinned. “I’m afraid you might be right about that, although if it makes you feel better, she seems to want to take me in hand as well.”

  Theo turned from the window. “Too right she does. She effectively maneuvered you into agreeing to take Beatrix to the ball with relatively little protest on either your or Beatrix’s part.”

  Heat crept up his neck. “I couldn’t very well have refused to take her, not with how you first extended her an invitation on my behalf earlier. Then, with Gladys all but insisting I escort Beatrix to the ball—”

  “You’re fond of her.”

  “Gladys is an acceptable sort.”

  “Not Gladys,” Theo said. “Beatrix. You hold her in some type of affection, and now I understand why you insisted we visit Marshall Field & Company today. I am, however, still confused about how you knew Beatrix was working at the store, unless you’ve actually taken to running in Hyde Park as an attempt to encounter Beatrix by happenstance, or to learn her daily schedule.”

  Norman’s first impulse was to deny everything, but he pushed that impulse aside because . . . he was fond of Beatrix. He found her fascinating, more fascinating than he found electrical circuits at the moment, a notion that should have been incredibly disturbing but wasn’t for some unfathomable reason.

  “I suppose I’m rather fond of her, at that,” he finally admitted. “And while you’re certainly going to find this surprising, I feel compelled to admit to you that I have been running around Hyde Park in the hopes of checking on her.”

  Theo’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Well, thank goodness you’ve decided to admit that to me. Here I’ve been growing more and more concerned about your odder-than-usual behavior, but now I understand the reason behind it.” She considered him for a long moment before she gave a decisive nod of her head. “You’re going to need some help.”

  “With what?”

  “Wooing her.”

  “I didn’t say anything about wanting to woo Beatrix, and do people even call it wooing anymore?”

  “No idea. I’m not exactly up to date on matters like that.” Theo’s nose wrinkled. “But even if you’re not intending on wooing her, you admitted you hold her in affection, so I have to imagine you’d like her to hold you in some type of affection as well.”

  “You don’t believe Beatrix is fond of me?”

  “Well, she might be, but it’s difficult to say for certain, what with how annoyed she seems to be with you at times.”

  “I do have a tendency to annoy her.”

  Theo lapsed into silence as the server returned with the bill. After settling the bill, Norman tucked his billfold away right as Theo sat forward.

  “We need to go to the bookshop, and if they don’t have what we need, we’ll need to go to the library.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I believe the first order of business is to get Beatrix less annoyed with you. There must be books printed on that subject, and they may very well lend some insight into steps you can take to have Beatrix return your affection.”

  “I doubt there are any books that can give advice about that.”

  “Sure there are,” Theo argued. “There’s an entire section at the bookshop dedicated to etiquette books, after all, and I’m certain that mixed in there are suggestions about how to win the affections of a lady.” She smiled. “We simply need to look at this like any other experiment we’ve done. We’ll try out different theories until we land on one that has Beatrix becoming less annoyed and more charmed by you.”

  “Charmed might be wishful thinking on your part.”

  “I’m sure you have charm in you, although it must be buried somewhere deep down inside.”

  “I don’t know, Theo . . . dosia.” He winced. “There I go again, addressing you as Theo, which suggests I’m incapable of charm since you’ve made it clear you prefer Theodosia over Theo.”

  She smiled. “I don’t actually mind it when you call me Theo, and I have to imagine it would be difficult for you to change now, what with how long we’ve known each other.”

  “Well, that right there shows that you are certainly capable of being charming as well as gracious, but I’m going to make a concerted effort to be more mindful about what you like and don’t like in the future. I’m afraid I’ve been sadly remiss with that over the years, and for that, I do beg your pardon.”

  She began blinking rapidly, taking a second to dash her napkin over her eyes.

  “Are you all right?” he asked slowly. “Got something in your eye?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, abandoning her napkin. “Do you realize that this is the first time in our long acquaintance that we’ve actually exchanged personal tidbits?”

  Norman’s lips curved. “So it is, but I could have done without learning that you prefer men’s garters and half hose over more, ah, feminine articles of clothing.”

  Theo grinned. “The look on your face was priceless. I know I shouldn’t have said that about the garters, but I just couldn’t resist.”

  “You’re very odd.”

  “As are you, which is why I
imagine we really are friends, aren’t we?”

  “I imagine we are at that,” Norman agreed, rising from his chair, then helping Theo out of hers. Taking her arm, he noticed that her eyes were suspiciously bright, and this time he knew without a doubt that it was not because she’d gotten something in them.

  Giving her arm a pat, he walked with Theo out of the restaurant, feeling quite as if his world had changed yet again, but he found that this time it didn’t bother him in the least.

  Chapter 18

  Beatrix opened her eyes and barely managed to swallow a shriek when the first thing her gaze encountered was a black creature staring down at her, its eyes glittering in the dimness of the room.

  That creature, or rather the oddly stealthy cat by the name of Phantom, continued its perusal for another ten seconds, until it lifted a paw and began grooming itself. Shifting her attention past Phantom, Beatrix discovered an additional six cats sitting on the very end of her bed, all of them regarding her with unblinking eyes, a situation that, in all honesty, was incredibly unnerving.

  She looked back at Phantom. “I’m going to have to insist you discontinue this habit you’ve adopted of waking me up by sitting on my chest. I assure you, I’m more than capable of waking up without your assistance.” Beatrix pushed herself up on her elbows, which had the desired effect of Phantom moseying his way across her stomach, stepping a dainty paw to the black and gold coverlet Aunt Gladys had chosen to match the Egyptian style of the room, then leaping to the floor. He then crept silently across the room and out a door that was barely open.

  Returning her attention to the six cats still on the end of her bed, she received what seemed to be condescending looks from all of them before they jumped silently to the floor and padded out of the room as well.

  Throwing aside the covers, Beatrix swung her legs over the bed and shoved her feet into slippers before shrugging her way into a dressing gown. She gave a bit of a stretch, then switched on a gas lamp sitting on a small table. Light immediately flooded the papered walls covered with images of pyramids and camels, the furniture made out of unusual Egyptian artifacts, such as ancient spears making up the backs of chairs, and, Beatrix’s favorite, the gigantic four-poster bed that had yards and yards of billowing fabric cascading over the posts.