Sew in Love

by Debby Lee

  “Easier?” Abe lowered his voice and made no effort to disguise his disdain. “Don’t tell me you cared about what was easier for anyone but yourself. Mother went to an early grave mourning your death.”

  “I never meant to hurt her. She was a good woman.”

  She was a good woman. Better than his father deserved.

  “Abraham. I’m sick.” His father grasped Abe’s arm. “Doc told me I don’t have long to live. I’d like my last days to be near my son.”

  What would Mother want me to do? Please, God, I need Your guidance.

  Abe answered through clenched teeth. “I’ll ask Mrs. Dunn to prepare a pallet in my room for you and arrange for two meals a day. But not a word to the other boarders about your time in prison. At least spare me that.”

  “Fresh start?” His father offered his hand.

  Abe’s arms fell to his sides.

  Abe suffered through supper while his father regaled the other tenants with stories of his early days in Poland. At the end of the meal, Abe offered to help Mrs. Dunn clear the table.

  Once inside the kitchen, Mrs. Dunn questioned him. “Are you sure you want him here?”

  “I don’t, but I think it’s what Mother would want me to do.”

  “Don’t be too sure after the heartache he put her through.”

  “He says he’s dying.” Abe raked his fingers through his hair.

  “If you’re comfortable with your decision, then I’ll support you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Abe went back to the dining room and escorted his father to his bedroom, then made his excuses to leave. He had to talk to Millie before he could get even one minute of sleep.

  Millie sat at the bus stop near St. Paul’s, unable to move. She clutched her pay envelope and watched the buses come and go. Once she finally boarded, the chill of the spring evening wrapped around her.

  How would she tell her family she was no longer employed? Even with Rose’s wages, they wouldn’t last two weeks without her paychecks. Her family was one step from the poorhouse all because she’d blindly trusted Abe.

  By the time the bus ground to a halt, her head throbbed. A group of children played hopscotch on the sidewalk fronting the building. Even their laughter did nothing to lighten Millie’s mood.

  Movement in the alleyway caught her eye. She took a step backward.

  Celia reached into a trash can and held up an apple core. She took a bite.

  “Stop,” Millie called as she ran to her sister.

  “But I’m hungry.” Celia stuffed the rest of the apple into her mouth before Millie reached her.

  Millie gagged and gathered the child into her arms. “Didn’t you eat leftover stew today?”

  “Father said the stew was for Paul. Babi gave me food, but my belly hurts. Are you angry with me?”

  “No. I’m not angry with you.” Millie clenched her teeth. She wasn’t angry with Celia. She was furious and couldn’t decide with whom she was most furious—Nathan for his lies, Abe for his manipulation, or Father for his blatant disregard of Celia in favor of Paul.

  With Celia in her arms, Millie marched into the tenement, where Babi and Rose washed the supper dishes and Paul listened to Father reading.

  Millie helped Celia wash the stench of garbage from her hands and face. “Is there any beef stew left?”

  “Henryk thought it best to save the stew for Paul,” Babi answered. “The rest of us ate bread and broth.”

  Millie pursed her lips and spread lard on a piece of bread for Celia. “I found her in the alley eating from a garbage can.”

  Babi gasped and clutched the edge of the table as she swayed on her feet. Rose wrapped her arm around Babi’s waist and helped her to sit, then lowered herself into a chair and bit at her knuckles.

  “Too many mouths to feed.” Father glared at Babi.

  Babi shook her head. “I should’ve kept a better watch on her. She asked to go outside to play hopscotch with the other children.”

  “We can’t leave her unsupervised,” Millie said. “Celia, do you understand? You’re not to eat from the garbage cans again.”

  Celia whimpered. “I was hungry.”

  Father frowned at Millie. “Why aren’t you at St. Paul’s?”

  I might as well tell them. “Berg’s factory is chained closed and my boss at the laundry fired me.”

  “I’ve never been fired in all my life,” Father exclaimed. “What did you do wrong?”

  Millie clenched her jaw and turned away from him. Why does he always assume I’m the guilty party?

  “I could ask my boss for extra duty,” Rose offered.

  “I’ll tell you what we need to do,” Father said. “Florence should go to the poorhouse and Celia to the orphanage so we have enough food for Paul.”

  “No.” Millie slammed her fist on the table. “No one will be sent away. Rose and I will find a solution. We’ll have money from the hat sales. I’ll ask my buyer to recommend me to her friends.”

  “Get your head out of the clouds. There’s nothing more to figure out,” Father insisted.

  “I don’t want to be a burden.” Babi’s chin shook. “I’ll go.”

  “No, Babi,” Millie said firmly. “I won’t let you. Father has no say in the matter.”

  “Who are you to tell me what I can say?” Father bellowed. “You’re not the head of this family.”

  “What am I, then?” Millie scowled at him. “Since your injury, I’m the one who has kept this family housed and fed. Me, Father.”

  A knock silenced them all. Rose opened the door a crack. “May I wait here for Millie to come home from work?”

  Millie ground her teeth. It was Abe.

  “I’m here.” Millie strode into the hallway, slammed the door behind her, and spun on her heels to face him. “Do you want to know why I’m here when I should be working?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I’m here because I lost both jobs in one day. You could’ve warned me the union planned to shut down the factory.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “How could you not know? There are just three men in your office.”

  “I promise you, I didn’t know until I went to Berg’s this afternoon and the doors were chained.”

  “The others shouted and shook their fists at me,” she yelled. “Called me a snitch. Blamed me for the loss of their jobs.”

  He reached for her.

  She recoiled. “Don’t touch me. Because of my involvement with you and the union, I can no longer provide for my family.”

  “We can remedy this. I’ll help you get another job, maybe at the same factory as Rose.”

  “I’ve been labeled a snitch, and all the garment factory bosses know one another. Thanks to you, no one will want to hire me.” Millie clutched her torso, elbows pressed to her sides.

  “I hate to see you like this. Please, allow me to help.”

  Millie spat out, “The last time I trusted you to help me get a job, you took advantage of my vulnerability and set me up as a union spy, knowing full well the implications.”

  He took a step backward and shook his head. “Are you saying you don’t trust me? Without trust, we’ve no future together.”

  Millie swallowed and tried to ignore the ache in her heart. “I don’t trust you.”

  Chapter 9

  Abe strode out of the building and left Millie alone in the hallway outside her tenement. She leaned against the wall, squeezed her eyes shut, and balled her nervous hands into fists.

  Has it been only a few weeks since Nathan walked away? Am I to repeat the same pattern with each suitor? Trust their word is true, then be left alone?

  Millie slammed her fists against the wall.

  Am I incapable of judging a man’s character? Was I so desperate for a job I was blinded to the real reason Abe helped me get a position with Mr. Berg? Fine. I have no more obligation toward him or the union. The union had all the information they needed to close the factory.

  Millie covered her eyes an
d slumped to the floor, determined not to give in to what her heart begged her to believe. What if Abe did tell me the truth when he said he didn’t know the factory would be chained shut?

  He had seemed like such a gentleman, ready at every turn to assist her family, a devout man who had demonstrated his allegiance to her. How could that man be the same one who set me up as the scapegoat?

  None of that mattered anymore. She told Abe she did not trust him, and he walked away without a backward glance. How could she ever trust a man again when the man she hoped she’d spend the rest of her life with simply walked away from her? Wasn’t she worth fighting for?

  Her thoughts reeled back to the message in last Sunday’s sermon and the scripture the pastor had quoted from Psalms—“My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.”

  Although she couldn’t rely on men, she could no longer deny her need for God’s provision. She prayed God would reveal His plan.

  Millie took two measured breaths. She needed to earn money to contribute to the family, but she wouldn’t seek employment in another factory. She’d rather work as a scullery maid on her hands and knees than work for another garment factory boss.

  Of all nights for Abe to have his father sharing his room, this had to be the worst. Certain his face would give away his heartache, Abe drove with no direction in mind and ended up in Yuri’s neighborhood. He parked along the sidewalk in front of her building, slumped down in the seat, and scrutinized the darkness. At this point, he assumed Millie wouldn’t testify, and he had no one else. Perhaps if he had been more attentive to his union duties instead of helping Millie’s family, he’d have the number of witnesses Mr. Crane expected.

  What was more important? He loved his work and the notion he participated in making factories safer for generations of workers to come, but he also loved Millie.

  I do love her. Had he known before this moment? If he was sincere in his love for her, why had he ended the argument by telling her they had no future together? Would he allow his wounded pride to keep him from a chance at happiness?

  Abe had to show her how much he cared, even if it compromised his job. He’d locate Yuri for Millie’s sake and not concern himself with finding people to testify.

  The illumination of a kerosene lantern caught his eye.

  Someone was in Yuri’s tenement.

  Millie was determined to cut the fabric for the second hat before bedtime. She helped Babi clear the kitchen table while Father read to Paul and Rose helped Celia write the letters of her name. Millie retrieved her sewing basket and lifted the luminous green satin from atop the blue and yellow yardage.

  Don’t think about Abe. Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. She positioned herself with her back to the family and surrendered her worries to God. She cleared her mind of Abe and Nathan and Father and inhaled and exhaled to the methodical in and out of the needle through fabric.

  Warmth radiated throughout her body as inspiration enveloped her. She’d use the blue and yellow satin to make two more hats to show to her buyer when they met on Saturday morning. Three hats in less than three days, but she’d stay up all night, if needed, to finish them. Lifting her eyes to the heavens, Millie thanked God for giving her the ability to sew and the creativity to design hats.

  She hummed her mother’s favorite hymn as the scissors sliced through the green fabric, barely aware her family was still in the same room.

  “Mildred, I hope you see now what your association with the union has yielded,” Father barked at her. “No employment.”

  She chose neither to respond nor to allow Father to dissuade her from her vision.

  “Is there meat for tomorrow?” Father asked.

  Millie looked up from her project. “I will buy some after breakfast.”

  “Won’t you be seeking employment?”

  “No.” She kept her voice steady. “I’ll be sewing hats to sell.”

  “May I remind you that if we don’t have meat for Paul every day until he’s fully recovered, you’ll deliver your Babi to the poorhouse and Celia to the orphanage?”

  Millie held his gaze. “I don’t recall agreeing to that solution. Rose and I are aware of the need to provide for the family. It’s our concern, not yours.”

  Without a word, Rose picked up a needle and stitched two sections of the green fabric together. Babi removed her apron and followed Rose’s lead. Even little Celia threaded her own needle and stitched a straight seam.

  Father harrumphed. “Mark my words, nothing good will come of fooling yourselves. You are not businesswomen.”

  “Perhaps we are not,” Rose said as she approached Father and knelt at his knee. “But you and Mother always taught us to persevere.”

  He opened his mouth, then clamped his jaw shut.

  “Shall I make you a cup of tea before you retire?” Rose asked.

  “No. I’m ready for my nightclothes.”

  Relieved Rose had calmed their father, Millie assisted her sister in lifting him into his bed. “Good night, Father.”

  “Kerosene costs money. Shut down the lanterns and go to bed.”

  Millie understood Father’s need to have the last word, but she chose to ignore his command. Hadn’t she and Rose earned the money to buy the fuel? They’d burn the lanterns all night, if necessary, to complete the green hat.

  On Saturday morning Millie packaged the completed hats—one sky blue decorated with peacock feathers and ribbon rosettes, one yellow cloche style with embroidered floral details, and the two mushroom-shaped green hats—and set out to meet with her buyers. She’d practiced how she’d ask the sisters for referrals and prayed she wouldn’t lose her nerve when the time came.

  She steadied herself then knocked on the door of the brownstone. An elderly maid, dressed in a full-length black cotton dress and crisp white apron, opened the door and invited Millie into the formal sitting room where the two elegantly dressed sisters perched on a rose-colored settee. Millie paused. She’d never seen a room more luxuriously appointed. She adjusted the hat boxes she carried to disguise her own threadbare skirt.

  “Come in,” Hazel called. Her fingers flitted to the lace collar on her turquoise gown. “Violet, meet Millie. Millie, my sister, Violet.”

  “Well now.” Violet smoothed the skirt of her pink taffeta dress. “Please sit, and let’s see what you’ve brought.”

  Both women gasped when Millie pulled the green hats from the first box.

  Violet held her hand over her chest. “Breathtaking. We will be the talk of the gala, won’t we, Sister?”

  “Yes, we most certainly will. The hats are gorgeous. Simply gorgeous.”

  “I’m so happy you like them,” Millie said. She swallowed hard then held her head high and her shoulders back. She reached into the second box. “I brought two more styles to show you.”

  “Oh my.” Hazel leaned closer. “They are both divine. Are they for sale?”

  “Yes.” Millie willed her body to quit trembling. “The price is a dollar more for the embroidered cloche.”

  “We’ll take both, won’t we, Sister?” Hazel caressed the peacock feather on the blue hat.

  Had Millie heard correctly? She wanted to dance a jig, but she’d wait to celebrate with Rose, Babi, and little Celia.

  A surge of confidence coursed through her. “Have you other friends interested in designer hats?”

  “Oh yes.” Violet clapped. “Our friends in the Women’s Club would love to see your creations.”

  Hazel nodded. “Most certainly.”

  “May I bring a selection to your next gathering?” Millie asked.

  “Oh my, that’s a perfect idea.” Hazel babbled on, “Do you take custom orders? Do you ever work with chiffon or silk?”

  “Yes, I can take custom orders.” Millie’s palms were moist, but she maintained the voice of a woman conducting business. “My grandmother, sister, and I have worked with a variety of fabrics and embellishments.”

  Violet scanned a daybook. “Our next
meeting is the eighteenth of May. Bring your hats and join us for lunch. We will promote you ahead of time.”

  “Thank you.” Millie’s mind tumbled with hat design ideas.

  “This is not my business,” Hazel said, “but do you have an inventory of supplies?”

  Millie’s voice wavered. “No. I started selling hats just this week.”

  The sisters looked at one another and stepped to the side for a whispered conversation. What are they discussing? Have I presented myself as an amateur?

  Violet took paper and pencil from a desk and scribbled something. “We’d like to sponsor you by setting up an account at our dry goods store. Here is the address and a note to the proprietor to record all the supplies you require. You can pay the debt after you sell the hats. We will guarantee the account.”

  Millie tipped her head back for a moment and tried to compose herself. Despite her efforts, tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “I … I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “Pish posh.” Hazel waved her hand in the air.

  Millie dabbed at her tears. “How many hats shall I bring to the meeting?”

  “As many as you can.”

  Millie left the brownstone with more money in her pocket than she’d ever earned in one week. She went directly to the dry goods store with the letter from the sisters and charged a variety of satin, silk, chiffon, thread, grosgrain ribbon, embroidery thread, and ostrich and peacock feathers—enough for ten hats.

  She bought food, including a big slab of beef, tobacco for Father, and kerosene for the lanterns. With her arms full of parcels and money left in her pocket, she rode the bus home, determined to convince Father she knew how to run a business.

  Once inside the tenement, she set all her packages on the table before sharing her good news with Babi. “The buyers paid top dollar for all four hats.”

  “How wonderful,” Babi said as she hugged Millie. “I’m so proud of you. Your mother would be proud too.”

  “There’s more.” She bounced from one foot to the other. “I asked if they knew other women who would like to see our hats, and they invited me to bring as many as possible to the next gathering of their Women’s Club.”