Julia's Last Hope (9 page)
Mrs. Hammond moved forward just enough to peer into the main parlor and give it a quick assessment. Her children followed her. Julia was certain they acted out of nosiness, not interest. Their rudeness annoyed Julia. After all, this was still her home. But instead of being rude in return, Julia turned her attention to Hettie.
“Hettie, will you show the Hammonds to their rooms, please?” Then, trying another smile, Julia turned to the Hammonds. “I’m sure it has been a long train ride. You will wish to freshen up before tea. It will be served in the main parlor in fifteen minutes. Thomas will bring up your luggage.”
Tom was not used to being called Thomas. His stern face showed that he did not like it now. But he said nothing, only nodded and picked up two of the many suitcases and turned to follow Hettie and the guests.
Julia paused long enough to breathe a quick prayer. This was going to be much more difficult than she had imagined. The Hammonds dressed and bore themselves as though they were accustomed to elegance, to opulence. “Used to being pampered and served too, I imagine,” Julia said under her breath. “They will take my lovely home for granted and expect it to be at their disposal.”
She shook her head and lifted her chin. “In which case—we shall pamper them and serve them, and they shall—shall be made to feel at home. No, not at home. I will never let them feel that my home is theirs. They are only guests here.”
With renewed determination Julia went to the kitchen to prepare tea while Hettie finished helping the Hammonds get settled.
The guests were not in the parlor in fifteen minutes. Julia flitted about impatiently. The tea was getting cold. She sent Hettie to the kitchen to boil water for a fresh pot. “But don’t make it until they actually show,” Julia suggested.
After thirty-five minutes Mr. Hammond appeared. He had changed his traveling suit to something unlike anything Julia had ever seen. It looked very casual—very rugged—and very expensive. “Does he think he’s on a wilderness safari, or what?” she muttered to herself.
“Mrs. Hammond will be right down,” he growled. “I should like a cup of tea while I am waiting. Hot tea,” he emphasized. “We detest tepid refreshments.”
Julia went to tell Hettie to make another pot and to be sure it was as hot as she could make it. Then she returned to the parlor.
Mr. Hammond fidgeted while they waited for the pot to steep. “You should have had ample time to prepare,” he complained, pulling out an ornate pocket watch and studying the time. “We allowed you more time than you asked for.”
Julia bit her tongue to keep from expressing the impatient retort forming in her mind. “Yes, of course,” she replied softly. “We did want to be sure that the tea was fresh—and hot, so we held back from making it.”
Hettie relieved the uncomfortable situation by appearing with the fresh pot of tea. Julia poured her guest a cupful and placed it on the table near his elbow.
And he left it there until it cooled to lukewarm before taking a swallow.
When Mrs. Hammond appeared they went through the process all over again.
At last the children joined their parents. There were two girls about the same age as the twins and a boy of about five. Julia studied them. They looked snobbish, whiny, and undisciplined.
“Mama,” began the oldest. “You said I wouldn’t have to share a room with Miranda.”
“We have already been through that,” the woman argued. “I had no idea this would be such a tiny place.”
Julia’s indignation rose. She was about to remind the woman that the information she sent stated that the house had three bedrooms available for guests, but just then Julia’s attention was averted to the boy. He had lifted the whole plateful of sandwiches and was racing across the room with them.
Julia caught her breath, sure that the child was going to dump the whole plate on her fine blue carpet, but Hettie intervened. Before the boy knew what had happened, she deftly removed the plate from his hand. He seemed about to howl in protest, when Hettie asked, “Would you like a cream puff?”
His disapproval quickly changed to delight.
“I’ll serve you on the back swing,” Hettie continued. “Come. I’ll show you the way.”
Julia breathed a relieved sigh and watched the boy and Hettie disappear.
The Hammond girls caught her attention again.
“Fredrika used all the closet and all the drawers for her things.”
Julia could well imagine it. Tom had carried up more suitcases than she had been able to count.
“You must learn to share,” admonished the mother. Julia guessed that the concept was totally foreign to the two girls.
“But—” began Fredrika.
“Now—no buts. We are not in a hotel, you know. We will be making do for a few days. Your papa wanted to get off to some quiet place. Away from civilization.”
The look the woman gave her husband told Julia that the two were not in agreement about their destination. The man ignored his complaining wife and fussing children as he stirred cream and sugar into a second cup of hot tea.
Making do,
thought Julia.
Making do—away from civilization.
Though seething, Julia maintained her composure.
“More tea, Mrs. Hammond?” she asked politely.
“The last cup was a tad cold,” the woman snipped. “I do hope that shan’t be the norm.”
Julia went to the kitchen to make a new pot. She detested fussiness, and they were being impossible.
“I do hope that young ruffian is behaving himself in my backyard,” she mumbled to herself. Just then the kitchen door burst open and Felicity entered, her eyes wide.
“Mama,” she exploded, “that boy is trying to tip over the swing!”
“He’s what?”
“He’s trying to tip it over. He’s swinging hard, and he said he’s going to go so high that it flips right over.”
“Oh my!” exclaimed Julia on her way to the back porch.
Tom was there by the time Julia arrived. He couldn’t reason with the young boy, and he couldn’t discipline the guests’ child, but he could thwart his action. Tom’s big, broad hand held the swing firmly so the boy, push as he might, went nowhere.
Julia thanked Tom and returned to the kitchen. Felicity and Jennifer followed her.
“How long will he be here, Mama?”
“He kicked a flower pot all across the yard.”
“He ate four cream puffs all by himself.”
“He says he’s our boss and we are his servants.”
“How long will he be here, Mama?”
Julia sighed, and her eyes pleaded for the girls to be patient.
Jennifer caught the message and nudged Felicity. Both girls fell silent.
Julia drew her two daughters close. “I didn’t know that it would be this hard,” she admitted. “But we must do it. We must help Papa. Do you understand?”
Both girls nodded.
“It won’t be long. In fact, they are so unhappy with our accommodations that they might not even stay. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least.”
Seeing hope in the girls’ eyes, Julia hurried on. “But we must try to keep them—to convince them. We must. Your papa—the—the other committee members—they are counting on us. Do you see? We must do the best we can—the very best—to endure.”
Julia spoke the last word softly but with such determination that the girls knew how difficult the ordeal was for her. They nodded their consent.
“Can we go to our room?” asked Jennifer.
They had been told to wait on the porch in case the children needed entertaining. Julia could not ask that of them in the present circumstances. She nodded, and the girls left for the sanctuary of their room.
Oh, if only I could run and hide in my room,
thought Julia, but she couldn’t, so she picked up the pot of hot tea and the plate of sandwiches and returned to the parlor.
“My, it takes a long time to make a pot of tea in the wild,” complained Mrs. Hammond. She refused the sandwiches, saying, “My waistline. One must not overindulge.”
In spite of the difficult start, things did settle down over the next few days—or perhaps the residents of the big white house just adjusted.
Mr. Hammond was determined to make his visit a wilderness adventure. He spent most of his hours walking mountain paths pretending, Julia surmised, to be the first man who had set foot on them. To the family, he talked incessantly of his “discoveries,” much to the annoyance of his wife and the boredom of his children.
The young boy, Hadley, was directed to the vacated mill site, where he spent hours running over sawdust piles and investigating the small empty buildings the mill had left behind. He roared and ran and hooted and climbed, returning home for mealtimes in a dirty, dishevelled state. But at least he was out of everyone’s hair, and all those with whom he shared the house, including the Hammonds, seemed thankful for that.
Felicity and Jennifer offered friendship to Miranda and Fredrika, but the city girls turned up their noses and continued to bicker and whine. No amount of coaxing or enticing could persuade them to do otherwise, and soon the Harrigan girls gave up and left them in their own misery.
Mrs. Hammond took possession of the porch swing, demanding pillows to soften the wooden seats. Her back was bad. She had to put her feet up as well, and needed more cushions for them. Snuggled in the softness, she read penny novels and devoured so many imported chocolates that Julia figured they must have completely filled one of the mysterious suitcases.
My waistline, indeed!
thought Julia.
Along with the busy days for Julia and Hettie, John and Tom were also pressed with responsibilities. The garden needed constant care. They had a wood supply to maintain, lawns to mow, and shrubbery to trim—not only at the Harrigan house, but also at empty neighborhood homes.
In addition, Mrs. Hammond never stopped making suggestions as to how the Harrigans could make her and her family more comfortable.
“Surely, you must have attic space. If your youngsters used it, my girls could each have her own room. They are not used to being crowded together, you know.”
“If this porch was screened in, it would be much more pleasant.”
“The gardens would be more becoming if there were more flowers and fewer vegetables.”
Julia tried to let it all pass. She ticked off each day as she left the kitchen at night. In the meantime she and Hettie devised little ways of meeting the demands.
They kept water boiling at all times. Two teapots were put into service, so there was always a hot pot at teatime.
Hettie made hearty lunches for Hadley so the whole family did not need to wait for him to return from his exploring before sitting down to dinner.
Mrs. Hammond was undisturbed on the porch swing, additional cushions borrowed from the committee members.
Men loitering in front of the train station told Mr. Hammond enough stories of bears and mountain lions to convince him that the area was truly wild and dangerous. He would have many stories to tell when he returned to the city.
And the two bickering girls—they were ignored as much as possible.
Eventually the two weeks ended, and the suitcases were repacked. Mr. Hammond took one last walk, hoping to see an elusive grizzly bear. Mrs. Hammond wriggled free of her cushions, stood up, and ate her last chocolate as she left the porch. Miranda and Fredrika whined over who would get the window seat on the return trip, and Hadley roared up and down his sawdust trail one last time before being force cleaned for the train journey. Then they were on their way.
The whole Harrigan household breathed a sigh of relief. It was over. They had made it.
“I never would have survived without you,” Julia admitted to Hettie. “I was so close to giving up.”
Julia drew the payment from her apron pocket. It really wasn’t much for all the work involved, but it would help—and it was a start.
“I hope the Greenwald guests are easier to manage,” Hettie stated.
“Oh my! I had forgotten. They arrive tomorrow, don’t they?”
Hettie nodded. The committee had decided that each member would have a turn at keeping guests. Mrs. Greenwald was to host a young couple starting the next day.
Julia looked about her disrupted home. She was eager to restore it to its proper state. The whole place needed a good cleaning.
Hettie knew her thoughts. “We’ll get to it,” she assured her mistress.
“I’m sure we will,” Julia stated, “but first let’s have a cup of tea.”
“Hot?” asked Hettie, a twinkle in her eyes.
“Very hot!” said Julia, laughing.
Only Julia and three other committee members had the room and the desire to keep overnight guests. The other ladies hoped to make their living by selling goods from their craft shop. Julia was beginning to wonder if each of the four ladies would even get one turn at playing hostess.
Mrs. Greenwald’s young couple quickly became bored with the small town and left before their time was up. Mrs. Clancy’s first clients made other plans and did not show up at all. That meant Mrs. Clancy would have the next people on the list. Eventually an elderly couple wrote for accommodation.
Julia had received permission from four shop owners to use their facilities. The women, along with their husbands, got busy preparing the space to display merchandise. They expressed some disappointment at the meagerness of their stock as they tried to make so few items fill such big shelves.
“It will be much better next year,” Julia encouraged. “We will have all winter to prepare things for the stores.”
Although the women looked a bit more hopeful, Julia knew they were all wondering where they would get the funds needed to buy supplies to make the items.
“These will have to do for now,” Julia continued. “It does look much better to have some of the boards off the shop windows along Main Street.”
Summer was drawing to a close when two letters arrived. A family of three wanted a quiet accommodation for a two-week period and a “genteel” couple requested two rooms for an undetermined number of days. Julia hastily called a committee meeting for that afternoon.
“We don’t have much time,” she told the group. “Both parties plan to arrive next week.”
