Chapter Nine #2
Vivian had expected more of a lecture, and she was left gaping at him for several awkward moments before she managed to reply, “She’s fine, I guess? Why?”
“No reason.” Dr. Harris crammed his hat on his head, looking embarrassed as he turned away. “Give her my regards, if you would.”
Vivian stared at him as he hurried out the door. But she didn’t have time to worry about Dr. Harris. When he was gone, the door closed firmly behind him and no one else in the room, Vivian turned back to Bea. “You’re going to let it go, just like that? After we found out—”
“Don’t be stupid,” Bea said, turning back to the dishes.
Vivian bristled, but she kept her mouth shut, knowing it wasn’t worth arguing over—not with everything else going on.
“Of course I’m not letting it go. But the last thing I want is people gossiping about my family.
Folks talk to the doctor about everything, and he talks right back. ”
“Oh.” Vivian took the dish Bea handed her, nodding. “Plus, I wouldn’t put it past a fella like him to go to the cops to keep us safe. And folks would notice them asking around long before they noticed us.”
“God, he would, wouldn’t he?” Bea shook her head. “He probably thinks the police actually help people.”
“They do,” Vivian said, an edge of bitter humor to her words. “Just not people like us.”
“That’s for damn sure,” Bea agreed. “So we’ll help each other, right?”
The look she gave Vivian was pleading. But it was also certain: there clearly was no doubt in Bea’s mind that her friend would be willing to help her out.
Vivian swallowed, suddenly nervous, but she nodded.
Dr. Harris might have been relieved to think that they would let the matter go, but what he had told them made that far less likely.
“Of course. And if there are other folks around here who have been getting threats, they’re going to need help too.
I’d guess if the doc has heard about a couple, there are more out there he hasn’t heard about.
And maybe…” She hesitated. “Maybe if we learn enough, I tell that coroner what really happened, and he can do something about it.”
Bea gave Vivian a sharp glance as she handed over another clean, dripping dish.
“Don’t you go saying anything to him without asking me first. I’ve got the kids to think about, and Mama, and now that baby…
” She shivered, her fear visible for a moment before she turned away.
“I’m not putting me or my family in that kind of danger until I know for sure it’s worth it. ”
“Of course,” Vivian agreed. “Not a word until you say so. You all right if I take off? If I don’t get home before Florence, she’ll worry. And I’m working tonight.”
Bea’s jaw was tight as she plunged her hands into the basin of soapy water once more, but after a moment she nodded. “I’m all right. Maybe you can ask around at the Nightingale, anyway? All kind of rumors end up there.”
Vivian nodded slowly. “That’s true. And I’ll tell Honor,” she added. “She said she wanted to know what we learned.”
Bea gave her a quick glance. “Did she know you were asking Leo for help?” When Vivian nodded, Bea almost cracked a smile. “Was she jealous?”
“Do you think Honor would ever let anyone see she was jealous?”
Bea’s expression grew into a real smile. “When it comes to you? Sure.”
“Things aren’t like that anymore,” Vivian protested.
“Sure they are,” Bea said, handing over another dish. “And one of these days you’re going to have to decide if you ever want to do something about it.” She smirked at Vivian’s scowl before her expression grew serious again. “But Pearlie first.”
“Yeah,” Vivian agreed, drying her hands on the thin towel. Florence would be expecting her home soon. “Pearlie first.”
Vivian and Florence arrived at their building almost at the same moment, Florence unlocking the door while Vivian dashed across the street, holding her hat on her head with one hand and ignoring the angry honking of the car she had nearly cut off.
“Where have you been?” Florence asked as they trudged up three flights of creaking stairs. Not long ago, Florence’s question would have been a brittle accusation, a line drawn between them that Vivian longed to cross but couldn’t. Now, it was genuine curiosity.
“With Bea,” Vivian said as she unlocked the door to their tiny home.
Florence nodded, yawning as she kicked off her shoes and settled into her rocking chair. “How are they doing?” she asked, letting her eyes drift closed for a moment. “I’ll get up, I promise, I just need a moment.”
“It’s fine,” Vivian reassured her. “I’ll fix us something for dinner. I picked up some groceries on my way home. You sit and rest.”
Days sewing at Miss Ethel’s dress shop started at eight in the morning and didn’t end until it was too dark to sew.
In the summer, only the fact that the city buildings blocked the sun around dinnertime made that bearable.
Florence looked dead-on-her-feet tired, but at least tomorrow was Saturday.
Ever since the spring, when Vivian had struck a bargain with Miss Ethel, they had Saturdays off.
Florence didn’t even have a bag of sewing that needed to be done at home, a luxury that would have been unimaginable just a few months before.
“How are they?” Florence asked at last, opening her eyes to watch Vivian puttering around the kitchen. “Anything new I should know?”
“They’re sad,” Vivian said. “But no, nothing new.”
She didn’t even hesitate before lying. Florence had spent years taking care of her little sister. The least Vivian could do was to take care of her in return. And that meant not making her worry.
“Nothing new at all.” She handed Florence a plate with a sandwich on it. “I’ve gotta get ready for work.”