Chapter 39 Iris #2
“They haven’t thus far, but my new friend Marjorie mentioned that I might consider adding figures to my work after she saw some sketches I made at the fashion show.
” Mrs. Putnam pointed to a half dozen sketches pinned to the wall on her right.
“The sketches I made of Orla while I was with her yesterday were just the thing I needed to give her suggestion a try.”
“I’m glad to hear that you were able to make good use of your time.”
“Orla inspired me. I feel as though she did me more of a favor than I did for you.” Mrs. Putnam dabbed a bit of blue paint from the back of her hand with a rag. “I don’t mean to tell you your business, but have you had her evaluated by a doctor?”
Iris nodded. “He says she is on a downward path and there is nothing to be done about it.”
The memory of Dr. Jennings sitting in Orla’s own kitchen, delivering the awful news, washed over her.
A lump rose in her throat, and her eyes stung as if she were chopping piles of yellow onions for a beef stew.
Her mother had always sworn by plenty of onions.
She gave her head a shake, as if that would clear the image of the doctor’s kindly expression from her mind’s eye, but it only sent a trickle of tears rolling down her cheeks.
She reached for a cleaning rag from the pocket of her apron and dabbed her eyes.
How could she have been so foolish as to break down in front of a guest, especially one as esteemed by Miss Arden as Mrs. Putnam?
She considered it likely that Alice was leaning over the pearly gates and gasping at her lack of professionalism.
The thought of her friend unleashed a fresh cascade of tears down her face.
Mrs. Putnam stepped forward and took her by the arm, steering her towards a wooden folding chair placed near the easel. She propped her backside on one of the windowsills and looked Iris over.
“It’s a wonder that the resort is running so smoothly, with all that you’ve had to shoulder. That said, I can’t see how you will be able to keep it up if you’re worried sick about your mother every moment you’re away from her.”
Iris drew in a deep breath and considered how to respond. She knew she ought not confide in a guest, but Mrs. Putnam gazed at her with such encouragement, leaning slightly forward and gently nodding her head.
“It has been a bit much, but I mustn’t lose this job. If my mother is going to become as addled as the doctor predicts, I’ll need to have put aside some money for help with her care.”
Mrs. Putnam slapped her thighs with her broad palms. “Then I have just the solution—at least, for the rest of the season. I shall send Mrs. Burns to stay at Orla’s and keep an eye on her.”
“Mrs. Burns, your cook/housekeeper?”
“The very one. I have no need of her services while I am at the Maine Chance.”
“I couldn’t possibly afford to pay Mrs. Burns.” Iris’s heart began to thud at the very notion of coming up with such an amount.
Mrs. Putnam snorted. “That won’t be necessary. I’m already paying her.”
“But I would never ask you to do that.”
“Of course you wouldn’t, which is why I am going to do it.
” Mrs. Putnam smiled. “Even though the presence of my in-laws drove me from my own home, I’m paying Mrs. Burns her regular wage to make them more comfortable than they have any right to be.
They never ask me for favors either; they simply appear and expect I will offer them. ”
“But won’t they be offended?” Iris asked.
“I certainly hope so. They have offended me with their shameless presumption for years. It has only grown more egregious since my husband died.” The older woman got to her feet. “With any luck, they will be so offended that they will leave.”
“What about Mrs. Burns? Won’t she mind being uprooted? I would hate to put her out.”
“I can promise you that relocating to Orla’s will come as a relief for long-suffering Mrs. Burns. My plague of in-laws is a sore trial to the poor woman. I’m lucky she hasn’t left my service on account of them.”
It was a novel suggestion, and one that would solve her problem. And she did like the notion of doing Mrs. Burns a good turn. Still, she couldn’t help but feel it was some sort of charity on Mrs. Putnam’s part. And what if Miss Arden found out that she had taken advantage of one of the guests?
“I just don’t think it would be right to accept,” she said.
As if she had read Iris’s mind, Mrs. Putnam waggled a paint-stained finger in her direction. “What would your employer think if she heard that you had refused to accommodate one of her guests?” she asked.
Iris felt the knot that had become a permanent fixture in her stomach over the past few weeks begin to loosen.
“Well, since you put it that way, it wouldn’t do for her to hear that I have provided anything less than extraordinary service.”
“That’s settled, then.” Mrs. Putnam picked up a rag from a nearby table and wiped her hands on it. “I’ll walk over to the Arden House and telephone Mrs. Burns. I’ll ask her to head to Orla’s straightaway.”