Sew in Love

by Debby Lee

  She longed to see him again, but they were busy rebuilding the field and she was sure the games kept him busy. She’d sent an apology to him but hadn’t heard back. Maybe he couldn’t forgive her for her words.

  What if he didn’t love her? It crushed her to even think about it, but their last argument … what if he’d realized she wasn’t what he wanted after all? The threats, the differences in class … maybe it had become too much for him.

  Even as the thoughts stirred around her brain, in her heart Jeni knew that wasn’t true. Philip was above all that. He was a good and decent man. He’d just been overwhelmed, frustrated, and worried that day. Maybe it was simply going to take him time.

  A new plan hatched in her mind. If Mr. Crawford would grant her a day off, it might work. She could go to a baseball game … send him a note that she was there … and pray that he would see her.

  There were just a few things she needed to do first. And she would give him a little more time. A smile spread across her face, and for the first time in two weeks, she felt hopeful.

  A customer’s voice out front caught Jeni’s attention. She stayed silent for a moment. Why did the woman’s voice sound so familiar? Setting down the piece she was working on, she stepped quietly over to the curtain and listened.

  “This is absolutely lovely, Mr. Crawford. My favorite so far.”

  Her boss cleared his throat. “Thank you, Mrs. Belmont, I was thinking you would be particular to this one.”

  “It’s perfect.”

  Jeni dared to open a slit in the curtain and peek through.

  Mrs. Alva Vanderbilt Belmont was a proud supporter of the suffragette movement. Jeni had heard her speak on several occasions in rallies in the streets of New York City. While Jeni loved the idea of being able to vote, she hadn’t really thought too much about rights for women. It had been hard enough to earn her way as an Irishwoman.

  Mrs. Belmont had turned and was pointing to the window. Jeni had been lost in thought and missed what she said.

  Mr. Crawford looked a bit perplexed. “Well … um, I’m not sure.”

  “I understand it’s a bit last-minute for me to ask you to design something right now, but I need it for tomorrow evening and I want to make sure you are envisioning the same thing that I am.”

  “Of course, I’m sure I can have something in time for you tomorrow, I’m just having some difficulty creating in front of a customer.”

  “Isn’t this what you do, Mr. Crawford?” The woman was used to getting her way, that was easy to see.

  Jeni watched her boss hem and haw. The client was asking him to come up with the idea for the design then and there. So she could approve it. And she wanted it now.

  A surge of bravery ran through Jeni’s heart. Without giving it another thought, she split the curtain and walked confidently to the counter. “Perhaps I can help?”

  Crawford cleared his throat again. “Yes, Mrs. Belmont, I think you would love Miss O’Brien’s work.”

  Jeni pointed to the hat Mrs. Belmont had raved about. “I created that one, ma’am.”

  “Well …” Mrs. Belmont’s eyebrows lifted and she turned a questioning gaze to Mr. Crawford. “Why didn’t you tell me you had this talented young woman back there?” She didn’t give him the opportunity to answer. “Miss O’Brien, I have a fund-raiser tomorrow evening, and I simply must have a new hat to go with my dress. It’s an aqua color with a silver sash.”

  Jeni reached for a plain, cream-colored, satin-covered hat. “What if we were to match the silver sash on the dress with a silver band around the hat here.” Demonstrating what she envisioned, Jeni couldn’t believe she’d been so bold to jump in like that. But she turned to Mr. Crawford. “There’s some aqua feathers on my desk, would you mind fetching them?”

  The owner didn’t respond but moved in quick strides to the back.

  “What if we added some handmade flowers on this side over here. The feathers could be at the crown, and I could dye some tulle to match your dress that could surround the entire design.” With deft fingers, she grabbed flowers, tulle, and the feathers from Mr. Crawford and laid them out on the hat to show their customer.

  “I can see it.” Mrs. Belmont’s eyes lit up. “That will be perfect.”

  “Could you bring your dress by this afternoon so that I can ensure the colors match?”

  “Of course. I’ll have my maid bring it within the hour.”

  “That will be perfect. I’ll have it ready for you by tomorrow at noon.” Jeni gave the woman a confident smile.

  Mrs. Alva Vanderbilt Belmont lifted her chin slightly and gave a sideways glance to Mr. Crawford. “Where have you been hiding this genius, and why haven’t I seen her before in all the times I’ve frequented your shop?”

  “Well, ma’am, Jeni likes to work in her office. But she does make the very best of the hats here.” Mr. Crawford puffed out his chest. “I only hire the best.”

  “Hmm … I see that.” Mrs. Belmont eyed them both. “Miss O’Brien, how would you like to help me with my campaign?”

  “Campaign?” What had her moment of bravery gotten her into?

  “A campaign for women. You shouldn’t be hiding in the back of this shop any longer. Especially since you are the designer of such glorious pieces of art. You should be praised for your accomplishments.” She turned her attention to Jeni’s boss. “And, Mr. Crawford, I guarantee you will gain even more clientele if you back my campaign and keep Miss O’Brien out front here.”

  “I’m not entirely certain—”

  “Oh, but you should be, Mr. Crawford. Don’t you realize that the majority of your clients are women? Just imagine the influx of customers you will have when they realize that you are supporting them. Mrs. Astor Wilson, I know, frequents your shop a great deal. I’ve heard her praise your designs again and again. But what if she found out that your master designer is kept in the back … because she’s a woman. Now, you wouldn’t want to lose her business, would you?”

  Mr. Crawford blinked several times. “Of course I’ll support you, Mrs. Belmont. It would be my privilege.”

  “Wonderful.” The woman was obviously a master at this. “Miss O’Brien, it was a pleasure to meet you. From now on, I’m sending all my business to you.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. That’s very gracious of you.”

  The austere woman headed for the door, where her driver waited. “I’ll be back tomorrow at noon.”

  In a flurry of movement, she was gone.

  Jeni stood rooted to the spot. Would her boss be mad at her now?

  Mr. Crawford moved a few things around and then coughed. Then cleared his throat. Then coughed. Again. “Miss O’Brien, I believe I owe you a debt of gratitude for coming out when you did. Thank you.” He moved to the curtain. “Why don’t we move your workstation out here? The women might all enjoy watching you work. Especially if you can design exactly what they want while they are here. I think Mrs. Belmont is onto something brilliant.” He slipped through the curtain, and all Jeni could do was stare after him. No discussing what had happened. He acted as if this was perfectly normal and they would move on from here.

  In the course of twenty minutes, everything had changed. Hadn’t she wished to be out in the front of the store?

  Excitement filled her as she watched Mr. Crawford move a worktable out from her little area. It put her feet into motion, and she went to grab the rest of her things.

  In less than an hour, she’d set up a lovely little area in a corner of the shop where women could come and order a special design or watch her work. It was posh and elegant.

  Her heart rejoiced as she praised God for all that He had allowed her to do.

  Now if she could just share it with Philip, everything would be perfect.

  Her elation sank for a moment. If only she could reach him.

  But then she lifted her chin. She had a plan and she would follow through. If God saw fit to keep them together, then He would make a way. She would move forward wit
h confidence and pray for His will.

  Chapter 18

  Bridget lit a match and tossed it into the metal waste bin. Once the paper in the bottom caught fire, she dropped a stack of letters on top. That March fellow was persistent, she’d give him that. Since Jeni worked all day, Bridget had been able to intercept all the mail from the baseball player. She’d hidden them until now, but the fear that Jeni would find them caused her to take a more final approach. Jeni didn’t need to see them. There was no reason she needed to read any of them. It was better this way.

  Wiping her hands on a towel, she watched the papers get eaten up by the flames. When there was nothing but ash left, she flicked some water into the bin to make sure the flame was gone. Now all she had to do was finish making dinner and she could show Jeni the letter from her friend in Wisconsin. It was time.

  Jeni came bounding in the door a few minutes later. “Auntie!” Her excited voice filled the room as she ran over and hugged Bridget. “You won’t believe what happened today!”

  “Go on. I can see it must be exciting.” She turned and stirred the stew she had bubbling on the stove.

  “Mr. Crawford moved my workstation to the front of the store. You wouldn’t believe it. Mrs. Alva Vanderbilt Belmont came in and asked for a hat designed right there in front of her …”

  Bridget tuned out the fast-talk from her niece. Let her have her say, then while she was still happy, they could sit down and discuss the move to Wisconsin.

  “… it’s everything I’d been hoping for and more! Well, not owning my own store, but right before I left, Mr. Crawford even talked to me about being a partner with him. Can you believe it?” The exuberance in her niece’s voice pricked at Bridget’s conscience.

  “That’s wonderful, dear.” She set two bowls of stew on the table. “Now, let’s sit down. There’s something very important I wish to discuss with you.”

  Jeni did as she asked, but her face fell.

  Bridget said a quick blessing and placed her napkin in her lap. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this for a while, and I think it’s finally time. What with your falling out with that baseball player.” She shouldn’t have brought that up, because Jeni looked even sadder. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. A friend of mine is in Wisconsin, and we’ve been writing back and forth about the area and the lovely community of Irish that are there. I think it’s time we left New York City. We could pack up and leave next week and be all settled in Wisconsin before the beginning of June.” She glanced at her niece. “Won’t that be nice?”

  Jeni sat there with her mouth wide open. “You didn’t listen to a thing I said, did you?”

  “Of course I did, dearie. Your boss moved your workstation …” The rest of it escaped her.

  “While that’s a great plan for you, Aunt Brig, I have no intention of moving to Wisconsin.”

  “You’ll do what you’re told, young lady.”

  “No.”

  “What did you just say?” Bridget put her hands flat on the table.

  “No. I won’t move to Wisconsin.”

  “Yes, you will.” She narrowed her eyes.

  “No, Auntie. I won’t. After all the work I’ve put in, after I’ve supported you for all these years and worked my way up. You just decide that we’re going to leave? No. You didn’t even listen to one of the greatest blessings I’ve ever had.”

  “But—”

  Her niece held up a hand and stopped her. “No. No buts. I’ll not stand for it. I won’t be moving to Wisconsin. I have an opportunity to really excel with Mr. Crawford and Mrs. Belmont. They believe in me. And the baseball player? His name is Philip. I’m not leaving him. I don’t want to live without him. I … I love him.” She stood from the table and slapped her napkin down. “I’m going to bed.”

  Bridget leaned back in her chair and let the shock wash over her. Why hadn’t that gone as planned?

  One thing was certain, she’d underestimated Mr. March’s charms.

  And her niece’s stubborn streak.

  Well, she knew how to break that.

  Thursday, May 18, 1911

  For three days in a row, Jeni had purchased a ticket and watched the New York Giants play at Hilltop Park. For three days, she’d learned all she could about this fascinating game that Philip loved. And for three days, she’d hoped and prayed that he would notice her in the stands.

  Baseball had become her favorite pastime now. She loved it. And not only because she loved and adored a certain center fielder. The game was quite enjoyable. In her imagination she could see herself proudly cheering on Philip for years to come, and she would love doing it.

  If only she could get his attention. Each time, she’d worn a hat that he would recognize. But center field was a long way from her seat.

  An idea struck, and she didn’t waste any time putting it into action. Taking her program, she tore it in half and wrote a note to Philip. Telling him she was in the stands and where to look for her. Then she begged for his forgiveness.

  When the Giants ran in from the field to the dugout, she made her way down the stairs and leaned over the railing. Waving frantically, she got the attention of one of the other players. He jogged over to her.

  “Would you give this to Philip March, please?”

  The player nodded at her and smiled. “Sure will.”

  “Thank you so much!”

  “You’re welcome.” He ran into the dugout, and all Jeni could do was wait.

  She went back to her seat and prayed that Philip would read her note.

  When he came up to bat, he turned and looked toward her section.

  Jeni stood.

  Their eyes connected and she clutched her hands to her chest. Had he forgiven her?

  Still on her feet, she took a deep breath and watched as he swung.

  “Strike!” The ump’s shout could be heard across the field.

  The pitcher wound up for another …

  Crack!

  The ball went flying, and Jeni clapped and jumped up and down. Another home run! Pride filled her chest.

  A nudge to her right made her turn. A large man stood there. “This is for you, miss.”

  Jeni smiled and took the missive. With anxious fingers, she opened the note, so excited to see what Philip would say. But it wasn’t from him.

  Someone was threatening her. That if she didn’t leave the game, something horrible would happen to her aunt.

  Jeni scurried out of her row of seats and raced up the stairs so she could get out. On her way, she bumped into the man who’d delivered the note. Grabbing his arm, she tugged. “Who told you to give this to me?”

  The man shrugged. “Some lady paid me two dollars to deliver it.”

  The answer threw her off. Two dollars was a small fortune for someone to pay just to deliver a letter. “A lady? What lady? Is she still here?”

  The man looked around. “Nah. I don’t see her.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “About this tall”—the man demonstrated with his hands—“blue dress. Big hat.”

  Jeni didn’t need to hear any more. She stuffed the letter into her handbag and headed toward the exit.

  Thirty minutes later, she stomped up the stairs to her apartment.

  Unlocking the door, she fumed. As she turned the knob she prayed for God to help her to calm down. “Aunt Bridget!”

  “Whatever is the matter, dearie?” A look of dramatic innocence was plastered on the older woman’s face.

  “Don’t even attempt to lie to me. I know you paid that man two dollars to deliver your little threatening note.”

  Her aunt’s jaw dropped. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “It’s written all over your face. Don’t deny it. I’m sure it was you who sent the notes to Philip. And you went to my job and ruined some of my work? What? Just to prove a point? To keep me from seeing a non-Irish boy?”

  The facade dropped and Aunt Bridget put her hands on her hips. “How dare you spe
ak to me in such a tone! I did what I had to do. It was for yer own good too. You ungrateful—” She gasped and grabbed at her chest.

  Several seconds passed before Jeni realized that her aunt wasn’t faking it. She rushed to her side. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Her aunt’s eyes glazed over and then her whole frame went limp.

  Jeni laid her down and ran out the door. “Help! Someone please, help!”

  Chapter 19

  Friday, May 19, 1911

  Jeni paced in the hospital room. The crazy events of the past days had turned everything upside down.

  Once she’d gotten help to take her aunt to the hospital, everything seemed to speed up only for it to come back to a screeching halt. The doctors weren’t sure if Aunt Bridget could completely recover from her heart episode.

  Auntie had woken up and apologized for what she’d done. Said she couldn’t face the good Lord without confessing her sins. While Jeni forgave her aunt, it was still hard to believe that her own kin—her own blood—had been so hateful and cruel.

  It all seemed like a bad dream.

  Aunt Bridget lay pale in her hospital bed. The sun shone through the window.

  But what would she do now? Would her aunt recover? Would she need Jeni to care for her?

  Then there was the matter of Jeni’s own heart. She’d thought for certain that Philip saw her at the game yesterday. The question was … would he have come to see her after the game?

  She’d never know, because the note from her aunt made her leave the game. And even though Aunt Bridget had been wrong and had done some horrible things, it sounded selfish to Jeni’s own ears to even be thinking about her own desires and hopes at a time like this. Wondering whether her last living relative would live or die.

  Walking over to the window, Jeni wrapped her arms around her middle. Lord, what do I do?

  She looked at the clock. It was almost the top of the hour. Maybe she could go grab a paper and find out what happened at the game yesterday after she left. Anything to connect her to Philip.