Sew in Love

by Debby Lee

  Millie wished she hadn’t waited until the last day of the workweek to look for safety irregularities on the second floor. After her father’s unseemly behavior toward Abe, she hoped to impress him by supplying plentiful information when she met him at church tomorrow. Abe already knew about the locked fire escape door, and she could tell him about the sprinklers not activating during the fire, but that didn’t seem like enough.

  During the break, the others mentioned Mr. Berg spent every Saturday afternoon holed up in his office counting out money for their pay envelopes. If she intended to examine another floor, she had to do it now.

  Millie slipped into the elevator and went to the second floor, where she walked the perimeter of the room, shoulders back and chin up, as if she’d been assigned the task of examining the premises. She checked the fire escape door. Locked, just like the one on the third floor. Her attention settled on the overhead sprinklers. She followed the length of them to the far wall where they were capped off, no water pipes in sight. No wonder the sprinklers had not activated.

  Body shaking and sick to her stomach, Millie made her way to the privy where she retched until her stomach emptied of everything but fear.

  Mr. Berg must be brought to justice.

  At the end of the day, Millie stood in line to collect her pay. She followed Yuri to the exterior of the building before they opened their envelopes. Yuri removed the cash from the packet. A slip of pink paper fluttered to the ground. Millie bent to pick it up, knowing full well what it meant.

  Yuri had been fired.

  The young girl trembled. “I know what a pink slip means, but what does it say?”

  How could Millie soften the outrageous accusation listed as the reason for firing her friend? She hesitated. “It says you are a thief.”

  “But I’m not. Even when grandfather and I are hungry, I don’t steal.” She buried her face in her shawl and wept. “I have to talk to Mr. Berg. Plead my case.”

  “I can go with you.”

  “No. I should go alone.” Yuri stumbled back into the building.

  Millie waited. Within minutes, Yuri exited the building flanked by two men at least a head taller than her. Millie wrapped her arms around the sobbing girl.

  “Mr. Berg told me to leave or he’d report me to the police. Says I’m lucky he didn’t have me arrested.”

  “Don’t worry, Yuri. The union will help you,” Millie reassured her. “You’ll have another job.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Yuri scrunched her brow. “Who do you know?”

  “I have a friend at the union. I’ll see him tomorrow and ask him to help you. What is your address?” She took the pencil and paper from her pocket.

  “Village Tenements, Number 18, 232nd Street.” Yuri bit her lip. “How can I repay you?”

  “Don’t trouble yourself about that. I want to help you.”

  Yuri drew in a breath. “I’ll testify against Mr. Berg. Just tell me what I need to do.”

  Millie gathered the girl back into her arms and thanked her. “I will be by your side.”

  “And I will keep you in my prayers.”

  Abe sat on the risers with the other choir members. From his vantage point he could see everyone who entered the sanctuary, and so far, he hadn’t seen anyone from Millie’s family.

  Pastor greeted the congregation and led them in song. Normally, Abe enjoyed adding his strong baritone to the other voices, but distraction over the absence of Millie’s family weakened his voice. What if yet another misfortune had befallen them? This was to be a day of celebration when he surprised Millie’s family with the news they could move to the ground-level tenement.

  During the pastor’s opening prayer, Abe sent up his own request that Millie would appear. As if in answer, when he opened his eyes, she and her family stood in the aisle.

  After the service, Abe lingered near the doorway of the church hall. He gripped his hat between his fingers and grew weary when one of the parishioners engaged him in a conversation about the possibility of another strike. Any other time he’d pay close attention to a worker’s concerns, but this time he wanted only to be near Millie.

  “Is it true?” the older man wanted to know.

  Millie’s family crossed the room and melted into the crowd.

  The old man snapped his fingers in Abe’s face. “I say, Mr. Skala, is it true about the indictment?”

  Abe nodded. “It’s true.”

  “I heard the Triangle Factory bosses are paying folks to testify on their behalf. Lie about the conditions.”

  “I’ve heard the same thing.” Abe stretched his neck to keep Millie in his sight. “Excuse me.”

  By the time he made his way across the room, Millie, Rose, and their grandmother sipped at cups of fragrant hot tea and little Celia sported cookie crumbs in the corners of her mouth. Abe stood opposite Millie, close enough to see her eyes sparkle and distant enough to keep tongues from wagging. Was she as happy to see him as he was her?

  “I ate two ginger cookies,” Celia announced as she tugged on his jacket.

  “Shall we see whether there’s one more on the platter?” Millie’s grandmother led Celia away.

  Abe pushed his hands in his pockets. Not able to contain his excitement, he blurted, “I have news.”

  “Oh?” Millie asked.

  “I arranged to move your family to a street-level tenement in your building, that is if you want to. My friends from the union will assist.”

  Rose’s eyes widened. “When?”

  “Today.”

  “Oh my goodness!” Rose squealed. “Father will be able to go outside whenever he chooses. Thank you, Mr. Skala. I must go tell Babi.”

  He looked at Millie for confirmation his gesture had pleased her. Her russet eyes sparkled, and the smile on her face broadened. “Thank you. Father will be pleased. I have a surprise for you as well.” Millie glanced about the room, then lowered her voice. “Yuri will testify.”

  “Yuri?”

  “My friend from the factory. After Mr. Berg accused her of stealing and fired her, she changed her mind. I hope I didn’t overstep my boundaries, but I told her you could help her find a new job.” Millie passed him the slip of paper with Yuri’s address.

  “I’ll contact her tomorrow and see what can be done.” Abe looked at Millie. “You are to be commended. My boss will be pleased. I am pleased.” Why was he speaking so formally?

  Millie’s eyes glistened. “There’s more. The sprinklers are not connected to the water lines.”

  Abe raised his eyebrows. “That information just might be the undoing of Mr. Berg.”

  Abe insisted on driving Millie’s family to their tenement building. Babi, Rose, and even little Celia kept up a lively conversation about the move. They decided Millie would ask Father’s opinion of moving to the ground floor, even though everyone predicted he’d wholeheartedly agree. And once he agreed, she’d ask his permission for Abe and his friends to help them pack their belongings and move the furniture. By treating Father as head of their household, Millie hoped he’d be in better spirits.

  Upon arrival at the tenement, she suggested Abe wait in the hallway while she spoke to Father. She swung the door open then knelt at her father’s feet. He turned his face away and reached for the wheel of his chair. She laid her hand atop his to stop him from moving. “Father, I have the best news.”

  “Your news is no concern of mine.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek and tried again. “Our family has been offered the street-level tenement. We need you to make a decision about whether we should move.”

  He looked down at her. Was that hope in his eyes?

  “Street level?”

  “Yes. We can move today if you find the tenement agreeable.”

  He swiped at the corners of his eyes.

  “And, Father, I want you to know Abe made the arrangement, and his friends at the union hall have offered to help us move. They can come today if you’d like.”

  Then some
thing happened that she had not seen since before Mother died. Father smiled at her.

  When Mr. Crane and Sam arrived, the men carried the wheelchair and Father down the stairs. He sat upright in his chair, head held high while he inspected each of the four rooms, including an inside privy. He signed his name to the rental contract and exchanged pleasantries with the landlord. The rest of the afternoon, he rolled his wheelchair up and down the cobblestone sidewalk greeting the neighbors, with Paul and Celia on his lap.

  Abe and his associates carried furniture to the tenement while Babi directed the placement of each piece. After Mr. Crane and Sam took their leave, Abe helped Babi pack dishes into wooden crates while Millie and Rose gathered their personal belongings from the bedroom.

  Millie hummed one of the hymns they’d sung in church that morning. She asked Rose, “Do you believe the Lord is with us always?”

  “I do.”

  “Even after Mother died?”

  “Yes. The Bible tells us to be courageous and not afraid. Are you afraid?”

  Millie contemplated the question. “I am, but not as much as the day of the fire or the day Nathan broke our engagement.”

  “Good riddance to Nathan. Abe is a much better match.”

  Warmth flooded Millie’s cheeks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Rose giggled. “I think you do. There’s no mistaking the look in Abe’s eyes when he sees you.”

  Millie fanned herself. Is Abe part of Your plan for me, Lord?

  Father invited Abe to join the family for their first meal in the new tenement. He even delivered the prayer and thanked Abe. The mood in the room was most joyous as Babi served the simple fare of cornmeal muffins and stew made from the tin of beef Abe had delivered last week. After dinner, Rose read to the twins and helped them prepare for bed. Millie fetched the pouch of tobacco she still had stashed away and gave it to Father.

  “You’re a good daughter, Mildred.” He smiled at her once again. “Thank you.”

  Millie blinked back tears.

  Father asked Abe to hold the doors open for him so he could smoke his pipe out on the sidewalk. Babi swooshed Millie out the door behind them. “Go thank Abe before he leaves.”

  Millie stood near Abe’s car and took in the sweet fragrance of her father’s pipe tobacco. Father finally gave Abe a handshake, then turned his wheelchair to roll down the sidewalk.

  Abe joined her, and Millie smiled at him. “You have made Father very happy indeed.”

  “He seems more at ease.” Abe intertwined his fingers with hers and held her hands to his heart. “I asked him whether I may call on you.”

  She gazed into his turquoise eyes. “I hope he consented.”

  “He did.” Abe placed the gentlest of kisses on each palm. “My heart is in your hands.”

  Chapter 6

  The next morning Abe lingered on the porch swing at the boardinghouse and waited for the mail delivery. He hoped Aunt Iris had responded to his request to visit her come Sunday next. He had not seen her since his mother’s funeral six years prior, but their monthly correspondence had afforded him a connection with his sole surviving relative. He scoffed. Second surviving relative if he counted his convict father.

  He wanted to call her the same day he confirmed his father was alive, but she and Uncle Clarence claimed they had no desire for such a contraption as a telephone in their home. And even if they did have a telephone, wasn’t it best to discuss his mother’s lie in person?

  Abe’s head swam with thoughts of Millie. He yearned to see her today, but he’d tamp down his impatience and wait until tomorrow when he’d join her family for her eighteenth birthday dinner.

  Had it been a mere twelve hours since Millie’s father gave Abe permission to court her? He closed his eyes and inhaled the fragrance of freshly turned soil in Mrs. Dunn’s flower beds—the scent of new beginnings.

  The mailman arrived and delivered a stack of mail. Abe flipped through the letters and opened an envelope addressed to him in an unfamiliar script. He slit the seal and read the few sentences from his uncle Clarence.

  Iris suffered a stroke. Recovery questionable. Come soon.

  Abe fetched his hat and coat from his room then drove to the nearest phone booth. He called Mr. Crane to explain why he wouldn’t be at work that day. On the four-hour drive to Albany, he prayed his aunt would recover.

  When he arrived, he checked the return address on the envelope against the house number of the brownstone. This had to be the right place. He banged the brass knocker, hugged the bouquet of purple irises he’d purchased at a roadside stand, and waited until Uncle Clarence opened the door.

  “Abraham.” His uncle gave him a hearty hug. “So good of you to make the drive. Come in.”

  Abe stepped over the threshold. “How is she?”

  “She hasn’t spoken since the stroke, but she can nod if asked a question,” Uncle Clarence said. “The doctor reports she’s not in pain, but her brain is muddled. She will be pleased to see you.”

  Abe slipped into the darkened room and held his aunt’s frail fingers in his. She opened her eyes and blinked back tears.

  He smiled and stroked her forehead. Abe wouldn’t burden her with his questions, even if she could nod her head to respond. Instead, he told her all about Millie and how her father had consented to a courtship.

  Within fifteen minutes, Aunt Iris fell asleep. Abe kissed her cheek and whispered goodbye. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand how she and his father could have such opposite personalities.

  Abe joined his uncle in the parlor where a tray of hot tea and a tin of shortbread cookies sat on the maple coffee table.

  Uncle Clarence served the aromatic black tea—a skill he admitted having learned since Iris’s stroke. He asked Abe about his work, and when the conversation waned, Abe broached the subject of his father.

  “Did you know Tymon is alive and confined to prison?”

  His uncle furrowed his brow. “Where did you hear that?”

  “I met a man who claimed my father was in prison. I called Clinton Correctional, and the warden confirmed he’d been there for seven years.”

  “Did you tell Iris?”

  “No.”

  “Good, because she put him to rest when we received notice he died. I won’t allow the good-for-nothing to impose on her again, especially in her current condition.”

  “Why did you think him dead?”

  “All I know is a man who claimed to be your father’s friend came to our door.” Uncle Clarence shook his head. “He said Tymon was already buried and asked whether Iris would contact anyone else who needed to know. That’s when she sent the letter to your mother.”

  “Why would he lie about such a thing?”

  “I don’t know, but it was a relief to have your father out of our lives. I think you’re aware he swindled his own sister in one of his con games.”

  “Yes. Aunt Iris told me as much.” How many more people had suffered because of his father? “I wonder how long he’ll be in prison.”

  Had he said that aloud?

  His uncle muttered, “For the rest of his worthless life, I hope.”

  Abe bid his uncle farewell. Should he go to the prison and confront his father about the lie they’d been told? No. There was no reason compelling enough to visit a man who had caused so much heartache for so many.

  On Wednesday evening Abe arrived at the Pulniks’ residence with a bunch of yellow daisies and a gift-wrapped box. Mrs. Dunn had accompanied him to the dry goods store to select one yard each of yellow, green, and blue satin fabric and matching spools of thread.

  Millie’s face lit up as soon as she opened the door. Abe gave her his presents.

  Celia and Paul scrambled to her side as she arranged the flowers in a mason jar then sat on a kitchen chair and laid the present on her lap. “Oh my. It’s so lovely.”

  Abe shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “My landlady wrapped it for me.”

  �
��Tell her I can’t remember ever seeing such a lovely package.”

  He grinned and kept his gaze on her.

  “Open it,” Celia squealed, jumping up and down.

  Millie removed the wrapping paper and folded it neatly before she opened the box. Her brown eyes shimmered, and her fingers caressed the fabric and spools of thread. “Oh Abe. How thoughtful. The colors are perfect for hats. Rose, look.”

  “Hats?” Mr. Pulnik grumbled. “Why would you need more hats? Haven’t you two already?”

  “The fabric is meant to give Millie and Rose a little inventory to start their millinery shop,” Abe answered.

  “Millinery shop?” Mr. Pulnik huffed. “Women can’t run a business. They don’t have the wherewithal for such things.”

  Millie sank into a chair, arms crossed and teeth clenched.

  “Still,” her grandmother said, “it’s a lovely gift, Abe. Lovely indeed.”

  “You best forget about a hat shop or any other kind of shop, for that matter. Your mother shouldn’t have promoted such a ridiculous notion.” Father wheeled himself to the door, and as if on cue, Paul held the door open and followed him out of the building, while Celia scampered right behind.

  “Excuse me,” Millie muttered as she left the room.

  Rose followed her.

  “Shall I leave?” Abe asked Millie’s grandmother.

  “No. Stay. Your presence might be Millie’s only beacon of light. I’m sure she’ll return once she’s composed.”

  After several minutes, Rose and Millie returned from their bedroom. Millie apologized for her father’s behavior. “Tell me how Yuri is doing while Father is out of earshot.”

  Abe softened the news as best he could. “I have not seen her yet—”

  “But it’s been three days,” Millie interrupted.