3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
There was so much to do that morning that Jane barely had time to catch her breath. Breakfast cleanup came first, then making sure all the girls were presentable for the Sheridan visit. She inspected their fingernails and the backs of their necks, spots that often were missed during their twice-a-week baths. Their hair was checked as well, to make sure that all of the plaits were tightly braided, no strands out of place. Mary, her counterpart, did the same with her small charges.
As Jane walked through the home, she was filled with a sense of pride. A Christmas tree in the entryway was festooned with ornaments created out of salt dough. The paper chains the girls had made earlier in the week were now draped over each doorway and window. They’d used donated newspapers and magazines, which had stained their little hands, but the ink had washed off with laundry soap and a bit of scrubbing. The girls were proud of their efforts, and Jane was pleased to have thought of these activities since it had kept them all busy and resulted in brightening up the place.
When she was done with the preparations, Jane was glad to see that every room and hallway looked clean and festive.
While Mary gathered the girls together to practice the Christmas songs they’d sing for Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan, Jane took the opportunity to freshen up. In the bathroom, she leaned over and stared into the mirror over the sink, critically assessing her appearance. For so many years her auburn-colored hair had been parted in the middle and braided, just like the rest of the girls.
As an adult, her style had not changed that much. She still braided it, but now it was in one long braid, wrapped around her head and pinned in place. Mary had once commented that Jane’s hair had a natural curl. “If you set it at night in pin curls, you could wear it loose and in waves. You’d look like a movie star,” she’d said, her head tilted to one side. Jane liked the idea, but there never seemed to be extra time in the day to fuss with her appearance.
Now, she checked her hairpins to make sure her braid was securely fastened around the crown of her head, then splashed a little water on her cheeks and forehead. After dabbing her face with a towel, she took a step back, smiled, and checked her teeth. Clean and presentable. As long as none of the girls misbehaved, the Sheridan visit should go well.
Mary and Jane lined the girls up in the front hall, half on either side. The Sheridans, usually so punctual, were late this time around, so Mary kept the children occupied by playing a game of Simon Says while Jane stood guard by the door, watching for the automobile to pull into the drive. When she spotted the dark vehicle making the turn and heading toward them, she called out, “They’re here! Everyone, take your places!”
As the girls shuffled into two straight lines, Mary gave them a last-minute pep talk. “Backs straight, face forward. Do not speak unless you’re spoken to first, then use your best manners.” Jane gave Mary a nod, then slipped out the front door to greet the Sheridans. She and Mary had flipped a coin to see which of them would have the honor. She’d won, but now, in retrospect, she wished she hadn’t.
The matron had always done this in the past, waiting outside and then ushering the grand couple indoors while regaling them with stories about the children. The anecdotes were designed to assure the wealthy husband and wife that their money was well spent and that these girls would grow up to be good citizens, a credit to the home. Jane, suddenly shy and tongue-tied, did not feel up to taking the matron’s place. At least she had her introductory sentence memorized.
She’d mentally practiced the words before she’d fallen asleep the night before: Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan. I’m Jane Shaw, taking the place of Mrs. Irving, who unfortunately could not be here today. We’re so pleased to have you visit us this holiday season.
Mary had assured her that everything after that would come easily. “They’re just people like us,” she’d said. “The matron says they’re always very nice to her. Pretend they’re like anyone else. ”
Now Jane stood outside the front door, back straight, face forward, her hands clasped together. Without a winter coat, she felt the full force of the December wind. A slight shiver came over her as powdery snow drifted down, dusting her shoulders and the top of her head. The sleek black vehicle came to a stop. The driver, a young man with sandy blond hair, came out of the vehicle and trotted around to the other side, giving Jane a friendly smile as he went. He opened the door, and to Jane’s surprise, only one person exited, a young woman wearing a cherry-red wool coat with an ermine collar and a matching red hat with a medallion of fur on the brim.
Hurriedly, Jane came down the steps. Her welcome speech, which had been on the tip of her tongue, slipped away at the sight of this unexpected person. Where are Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan? As her right foot hit the bottom step, it skidded on a patch of ice, knocking her off balance. As her feet came out from under her, she made a split-second decision. Grabbing the young woman’s arm, her only chance of staying upright, was not an option, so she fell to the brick pavement at the bottom of the steps, landing on her knees. The impact knocked her breath out. The driver rushed to her side and held out a hand, which she gratefully accepted. Shakily, she got to her feet. Facing the young lady who’d just exited the vehicle, she found herself looking into a familiar set of green eyes.
The elegantly dressed young woman narrowed that same set of eyes and turned to the driver. “Don’t tell me this is the girl you think looks like me?” She raised a haughty eyebrow .
“One and the same.” The young man’s voice was chipper. “Spitting image.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong.” Now the young woman sounded angry. “She looks nothing like me.”
“If you say so,” he said with a laugh.
Jane brushed off the front of her dress, which was now damp and ripped. She held out her hand. “Welcome to the Sheridan Girls’ Home,” she said. “Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?”