16. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
October 1931
T here had been frost the second week in October followed by unusually warm weather. Currently, the windows in the house were thrown open to let in some fresh air. It wouldn’t be long before storm windows would be put on until the spring. Lenore hated unopened windows. She’d been busy washing down woodwork in the front of the house, crawling along the baseboards on her hands and knees with a kerchief tied around her head to keep her hair clean.
Just outside the back door, two men who were down on their luck ate sandwiches of bread and butter and a little leftover Hoover stew. They sat on the top step, shoveling food into their mouths, silent, no conversation.
Not only did residents from town show up at the back door from time to time, but men riding the rails turned up with increasing regularity. The trains ran along the Great Lakes, carrying hobos in search of work and a meal wherever they could find it. Gibson’s Grape Jelly factory was known to offer these men occasional day work doing odd jobs around the factory, providing them with some necessary dollars and a meal at the company’s canteen. The ones that showed up at the Wainwrights’ back door pocketed what little fruit was left from the orchard, grabbing an apple or a peach, if it wasn’t too rotten, and taking it with them. Lenore couldn’t blame them.
She stepped between them, holding the coffeepot.
“Would you like more coffee?” The scent of unwashed human lingered around them. They were both in need of a bath and a shave.
One of the men held up his tin mug, which was his own. “If you don’t mind.”
She recognized him. He was a resident of Lavender Bay. A single man, he’d been hired by the grape jelly factory in the summer of 1929, before the economic collapse. It was pitiful to see a young man reduced to such a sad state of affairs.
She topped off their mugs.
The other man looked at her and announced, “Lady, you’ve earned your bed in heaven.”
She smiled. “I don’t know about that. But eat your fill. I have a little bit of cake you can take with you. ”
They smiled and went back to finishing what was on their plates. She pulled the cake out of the larder and cut two thick slices, wrapping each in wax paper. The doorbell ringing interrupted her, and she set the two slices of cake aside.
She wiped her hands on her apron and headed to the front door. The doorbell rang a second time before she reached it.
No one was home but her. Hilda had walked up to town. Her father was at his office and wouldn’t be home until midday, and her mother had taken Laura out dress shopping. Her younger sister had whined and moaned about how she hadn’t had a new dress in more than a year, and her mother caved and said they’d see if they could get something marked down.
When she opened the door, she was surprised to see John Hadley standing there. Of all people, she least expected him, especially late in the morning on a weekday. Since he’d arrived in Lavender Bay, he joined them for Sunday dinner on a regular basis. The previous weekend, he’d had two servings of her tomato soup cake.
He must have come to his senses and realized, like so many other men, that Laura was the one for him. The previous evening, Lenore couldn’t help but overhear Laura on the front porch with her newest suitor, the fella already declaring his undying love and proclaiming that he couldn’t live without her. At the time, Lenore had rolled her eyes, wondering if this was the sort of palaver couples talked about. Maybe she wasn’t missing out on anything at all. Maybe she was better off alone.
“Mr. Hadley, this is a pleasant surprise,” she said. Though she wished she’d had a chance to remove her apron and headscarf, and brush her hair and splash cool water on her face. She must look a wreck.
“Unexpected, I expect,” he said.
“Do come in,” she said, opening the door wide.
He followed her in.
“I’m sorry, I was in the middle of something,” she said over her shoulder as she led him back to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry if this is a bad time,” he said.
“Not at all, come on back. I’m the only one home right now,” she said. In the kitchen, she pulled out a chair for him and he sat in it, not stating his business.
“Would you care for some coffee?” she asked. Sensing his hesitation, she added, “It’s a fresh pot.”
“I’d love some.”
She took down two cups, poured the coffee, and put the mugs on the table. She put the creamer and sugar within his reach. Once she’d laid spoons on the table, she said, “Excuse me for one moment.” She picked up the slices of wrapped cake and headed out the back door, handing them to the two men, who stood waiting at the bottom of the steps .
They waved goodbye, said their thanks, and she wished them well.
When she returned, the wooden screen door slamming behind her, John said, “Who do you have out back? Is that where you keep your suitors?”
As if. “No, there were two men who were looking for a meal.” This was a regular occurrence. People were hungry. It was the times.
His expression darkened. “Lenore, please be careful.”
These men that traveled along the railroads were drifters and for the most part, Lenore was always careful. There were usually other people around. Most of the men were only looking for a meal. There had been one incident, last fall, when a man had entered the kitchen and she’d caught him going through Hilda’s purse. She’d chased him out, brandishing a rolling pin.
But who did John Hadley think he was, coming into her kitchen and telling her to be careful? She bristled a bit, lifting her chin and her shoulders, and he chuckled.
“I take it you’re not used to someone telling you what to do, Lenore,” he said, taking a sip of coffee.
There it was again. Her name rolling off his tongue like he’d been saying it all his life. She tried to ignore the pleasant prickly sensation that rolled down her back, but it was practically impossible.
Unsure of quite what to do or say, she joined him at the table with her coffee the way she liked it: black. She liked to save the sugar and milk for baking, that way there was more to go around.
The silence stretched out between them. Why was he here? He knew her father would be at his office during the weekday. Had she missed something? She jumped up and said, “Would you like some cake? I’ve got a little bit left.”
He stood as well. “No, thank you.”
Why did she feel this was a surprise test she had not prepared for? He looked ever so handsome, and relaxed in a maddening way as if drinking coffee in the kitchen with her was the most natural thing in the world.
Confused and exasperated, she tucked a stray strand of hair out of sight beneath her scarf, wishing he hadn’t stopped by on heavy-cleaning day. And wishing she hadn’t decided upon rising that the woodwork in the house needed a good scrub.
Taking a step back, she said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Hadley—” She was pretty sure she was imagining the pulsating heat she felt passing between them.
“Please, call me John.” His gaze was unnerving.
“Look, John,” she started, closing her eyes and scratching her forehead with her forefinger and middle finger. “Laura isn’t here, and I don’t know what time she will be home.”
He took a step toward her. “I didn’t come to see Laura.”
“Dad won’t be home until midday for his lunch. Did you want to wait, or . . . ?” Her voice trailed off. That was a ridiculous suggestion as her father wouldn’t be home for another two hours. Surely, John Hadley had better things to do than sit with her in the kitchen all day. Wasn’t he supposed to be keeping Lavender Bay safe?
She backed up until she hit the edge of the counter.
John’s eyes were alight with mischief and merriment, and she didn’t move from her position. She couldn’t. Something was happening here, but she was afraid to name it. She hoped she wasn’t the butt of some joke.
“I need to ask you a question,” he said, coming close enough that she could have reached out and touched him, close enough for her to see the lines beginning to form at the corners of his eyes and the fine details of the scar that marked him as having fought in the Great War.
She laughed nervously. “It sounds serious.”
“Nothing to worry about, I assure you.”
She bit her bottom lip. John’s gaze traveled to her lips, lost focus for a moment, and then he lifted his gaze until their eyes met.
“Lenore,” he started again. “Are you seeing Alistair Young?”
The question was not one she’d expected, and she burst out laughing. She might even have snorted. “What?”
“I was under the impression that you and Alistair were seeing each other.”
“No,” she clarified. “Alistair and I have known each other since we were children. We’re very good friends.” To further drive the point home, she added, “That’s all. Nothing more.”
“I’m relieved to hear that.”
“You are?”
He smiled and the warmth reached his eyes. They were eyes she could get lost in. “Are you seeing anyone?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m unencumbered.”
He laughed. “Unencumbered. I like that.”
She held her breath, waiting.
But he glanced at his watch, breaking the spell, and frowned. “I have to get back to work.”
Flustered, she said, “Of course.”
He closed his eyes and took a breath. Then he cleared his throat, and Lenore realized he was nervous. That endeared him to her all the more.
“I was wondering,” he said, “if an unencumbered Lenore would like to go for a walk or a picnic with an unencumbered me.”
Her response was a generous smile, and she said, “Yes. I would like that very much.”
His expression was beautiful for how pleased he looked.
Time was suspended for the briefest of moments, all that hope and good feeling lingering between them as fine as gossamer strands. Lenore could only look at him in wonder. Her heart beat so fast she could hear it in her ears .
The spell was broken by the back door opening and Hilda stepping inside, her handbag on one arm and a brown paper bag of groceries in the other.
“Oh good, you found her,” Hilda said, setting everything down on the table.
Lenore looked to Hilda and back to John, and then her gaze swung back to Hilda.
“What?”
“I ran into Mr. Hadley on my way to town earlier. I told him you were all alone in the house.”
“You did?” Lenore said, trying to catch up.
Hilda said to John, “Our Lenore is very intelligent, of that there is no doubt. But sometimes, she can’t see the obvious right in front of her. It needs to be spelled out.”
“Thanks for the advice,” John said with a laugh.
Hilda’s gaze swung between the two of them and she announced, “I think I’ll sweep off the back porch.”
When she was gone, John said, “As much as I hate to leave, I really must go.”
Lenore nodded, understanding.
He reached for her hand and put his over hers, and she stared at it for a moment. His hand was large and held a reassuring warmth. It dwarfed hers and made her feel oddly feminine. She liked the way her hand felt in his.
“You’re trembling,” he said quietly.
She looked up at him quickly. “Am I?”
“I’ll see you soon, Lenore. ”
He left by the back door and exchanged some words with Hilda that were indiscernible to Lenore, who walked around the kitchen in a daze. She heard Hilda laugh and wondered briefly what was so funny. It had been a strange morning with a sudden, dramatic change in events. She could hardly believe it.
Hilda stepped back into the kitchen with a smile on her face.
“So you were behind this?” Lenore said. She’d have preferred it if John had come here of his own free accord. But honestly, he didn’t strike her as a man who did anything he didn’t want to. After all, he hadn’t ended up with Laura.
Hilda rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Stop trying to talk yourself out of this,” she said.
“I’m not.”
“You are! Now stop it. The way you two look at each other. And no progress. It was too painful.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Lenore.”
Lenore opened her mouth to protest, but then thought better of it and closed it.
Hilda continued. “Those times he’s been here for Sunday lunch, he can’t take his eyes off of you. But he’s just as bad as you are. How can someone so smart be so thick?” she asked, looking heavenward. “When I saw him this morning, I said hello, enquired after his health, and then told him that you were home and would be pleased if he stopped by to call on you.”
“You didn’t say that!”
“Of course I did. How else was I to get the two of you together?”
Lenore was about to protest, thinking the whole affair was unseemly, when Hilda cut her off. “As soon as I said it, he took off and left me standing there on the sidewalk.”
Lenore smiled to herself.
Hilda laughed and began to go about the preparation of lunch. “I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life in the kitchen with me doing menial work.”
“It may be menial work, but I love doing it. I love taking care of people,” Lenore said.
“I know that, Lenore. But you need a nice man, a home of your own, and lots of children. It’s what you were born for.”
In good humor, Lenore narrowed her eyes at the older woman. “And you think John Hadley is the right man for me?” she challenged.
Hilda looked at her. “John Hadley is the perfect man for you. Now, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. My work here is done.”
And that ended that discussion.