Mail Order Mix Up (16 page)

“I went to visit my sister, and she was in a panic because Wesley told her he wanted
fried chicken for lunch, and although we’ve made it together probably a hundred times,
she had no clue how to do it.  She’d just helped me.”
  She grinned as she told him the story, holding onto his arm as they walked to the
back of the house.

He laughed.  “So did you do it for her?”

“No, I made her do it, but I explained each step and wrote them down for her.  Now
she’ll be able to do it herself next time.”
  She was glad to be needed, but she knew her sister needed to be self-sufficient,
and she’d do everything she could to get her there.

“Good.”  He sat on the swing and pulled her down beside him.  “Sounds like you had
an exciting day.”

She shrugged.  “I’m just glad there was something to do.  It was nice to help her
with the housework because I felt useful for a change.”  She knew she shouldn’t complain
about being the wife to a rich man and having servants, but she couldn’t help it. 
She hated sitting around idle.

“Well, now you have a dinner party to plan.”

“I hope I do all right at that.  Do you know what you want for dinner?”
  What was she supposed to serve at a dinner party?  Hopefully Alice would have some
ideas about how he liked to do things.

“I have no idea.  Whatever you feel like having Alice fix, I guess.”

She rested her head against his shoulder looking out over the garden.  “I’ll figure
something out.  How formal do you want it to be?”
  She hoped it wouldn’t have to be terribly formal because she wasn’t sure how she
would manage that.

“It needs to be very formal.  We’ll need to hire maids to help serve the meal.  It
needs to be perfect.”

“I hope I can manage perfect.”  She stifled a yawn.  “I’ll talk to Alice about it
first thing in the morning.  I’m sure she’ll have some ideas.”
  What would she do without Alice?  She seemed to know exactly what to do about everything. 
She was so glad the woman was there to help her.

“She will.  We’ve done this a couple of times before.”

“Okay.”  They sat in silence for a few moments simply enjoying being together and
listening to the sound of the Colorado night. 

“Are you tired?” he asked.

She nodded.  “I’m always up before the sun comes up.  Once a farm girl, always a farm
girl.”
  She stifled a yawn behind her hand.

“Well, go on up to bed.  I’ll be up in a minute.”

Ellen stood up and walked up the stairs.  She quickly changed into her nightgown and
got into bed.  Within minutes, he was there, stripping and climbing into bed beside
her. 
She turned into his arms, happy to be able to be with him again. 

After they’d made love, he fell asleep immediately, and she lay in his arms staring
at the ceiling.  She hoped she could do a good enough job on the dinner party.  Malinda
would have been thrilled to get to entertain a group of rich men and their wives. 
She couldn’t help but wonder if they’d made a mistake by marrying the men they did. 
She was much more suited to doing housework and cooking than her sister was, and Malinda
was more suited to dinner parties and being idle.  She sighed.  She could do what
she needed to do.  She loved Patrick, and she wasn’t going to give him up because
he expected her to do things that weren’t what she was used to.

*****

The week seemed to speed by.  Every morning she went to her sister’s house to help
her with her chores.  Malinda seemed much happier, but Ellen didn’t feel like it was
her place to know the intimate details of her sister’s marriage, so she didn’t ask
any questions.  Between the two of them, they’d get the house clean, just like they
always had at home, and Malinda slowly learned how to cook meals for her husband.

Ellen spent the afternoons at home planning the dinner party.  She spoke with Mrs.
Smith about hiring extra staff for the party, and spent hours with Alice planning
the menu.  Finally, she was satisfied that everything would be fine, but when it came
time to dress for the party, she was wracked by nerves.  She was just a simple farmer’s
daughter.  What did she know about entertaining bankers?

At six on the dot, she went down the stairs to stand beside Patrick and wait for their
guests to arrive.  He slipped his arm around her shoulders and felt her shaking. 
“Are you nervous?”

She smiled up at him.  “I’m petrified.”
  She wanted to make a good impression on the others while making him proud.  She
hoped everything went without a hitch.

He laughed.  “It’s all going to be fine.  What did you and Alice decide on for dinner?”

“She made a vegetable soup to start, and then we’ll have a special chicken dish she’s
assured me will go over well along with asparagus.  For dessert she made some raspberry
tarts that she’s certain will make a good impression.  I hope she’s right.”

“It’s going to be fine.  Just be polite and entertain the other ladies, while I talk
business with the men.  We’ll eat at seven, and everything will go fine.”

She nodded nervously, biting her lip.  “I hope so.”
  She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to forgive herself if she did something wrong that
c
ost
him the deal he was trying to make.

The first knock on the door came then, and they greeted their first guests, the president
of the bank in Denver, Mr.
Ernest, and his wife.  Ellen smiled and talked with Mrs. Ernest, inviting her into
the parlor to sit and chat.  The Ernests were an older couple, in their sixties at
least, and seemed very formal to Ellen.  She took one of the chairs in the parlor
while Mrs. Ernest took the
sofa
.

“Do you have any children?” Ellen asked.

Mrs. Ernest nodded.  “Oh, yes.  We have two.  Stanley works at the bank with Richard,
and Beatrice and her husband have three children.  The oldest just married and gave
us our first great-grandchild.”

Ellen smiled.  “Oh, that’s wonderful.  I’ve always wanted to have a large family.”

“How long have you been married?  I wasn’t aware that Mr. Harris had taken a wife.”

“We were married on Saturday, so the news hasn’t had time to travel around yet.”
  She wondered if the older woman would have advice for her on being a banker’s wife.

“Well, you have plenty of time for children then.  Enjoy your time alone together.” 

The other two women came in then.  Mrs. Chandler was the wife of the vice-president
of Patrick’s bank, and Ellen had met her at the wedding, so she smiled happily knowing
someone there.  She introduced herself to the other lady, Mrs. Merryweather. 

“Mrs. Harris was just telling me she only got married last Saturday,” Mrs. Ernest
told the others.

“Congratulations,” Mrs. Merryweather said, smiling warmly.  Mrs. Merryweather looked
to be in her thirties, while Mrs. Chandler was closer to Ellen’s own age. 

“Thank you.”
  Ellen hated being in the spotlight, but she knew her new marriage would put her
there repeatedly.

Ellen looked at the clock and realized they had fifteen minutes before dinner, so
she tried to come up with a topic.  “How long have you been married, Mrs. Merryweather?”

The older woman smiled at her.  “Oh, seventeen years.  That’s a long time to be a
banker’s wife.”

Mrs.
Ernest
nodded.  “I’ve been a banker
’
s wife for over forty years.  I think the first five years were the hardest.  Never
knowing when he’d come home, and eating alone almost every night.”

Mrs. Chandler laughed.  “Never knowing when they’ll work all night after they get
home and ignore you.”

Ellen’s eyes were wide as she listened to the other women.  “I thought it was just
me!”
  She was thrilled to hear that her husband wasn’t meaning to neglect her.  He was
just doing what all bankers did.

Mrs. Ernest shook her head.  “It’s all bankers, my dear.  We all joke about being
bankers
’
widows.  It’s like our husbands come home to sleep, but never spend time with us.”

Ellen sighed.  “So it’s not going to get any better?”
  She’d hoped that Patrick would someday be able to spend more time with her, but
it sounded like they’d be raising any children they had together alone.

The other women laughed.  “Poor Ellen,” Mrs. Chandler said.  “You’ll get used to it.”

She saw by the clock it was time to go into dinner.  “If you’ll follow me?”  She strode
toward the dining room.  She really wished she’d had a chance to talk to these women
in depth before she’d married Patrick.  Not that she would have made a different choice,
but at least she would have been prepared.  She was starting to think the only time
he realized he was married was when they were in bed together at night.

She blushed immediately after having that thought as if the others could hear her
thoughts.  She took the seat at the foot of the table as she’d promised Patrick she
would, and the other women grouped around her while the men went to the other end
of the table.  The women changed their topic to children, and she discovered that
Mrs. Chandler had a little girl who was only a year old while Mrs. Merryweather had
four children.  She’d had three girls and kept trying until she had a boy.  “A man
needs a boy to carry on the family name.”

For the first time Ellen wondered if her father had been disappointed to only have
girls.  He’d never said anything if he was.

The other women all seemed to know one another, and Ellen found the job of keeping
the conversation going very easy.  At times, she would pick up pieces of the topic
from the men’s end of the table.  They seemed to be having a good time discussing
the logistics of the plans they’d made.

As much as Ellen had been dreading the dinner, she felt like she could have a true
friend in Elizabeth Chandler and hoped to get to know her better.  She was certain,
if nothing else, they’d be thrown together over and over socially.

She wondered how Malinda would have fit into the party, and was sad to admit, she
would have done a much better job at steering the conversation and keeping the other
women occupied.  She enjoyed social setting
s
so much more than Ellen did.

After dinner the women once again retired to the parlor, while the men went to Patrick’s
study.  The women talked about the different things to do in Denver, none of which
Ellen had experienced.  “There’s a wonderful theatre there.  You must go,” Elizabeth
told her.

“Yes, you should,” echoed Mrs. Ernest.  “And when you do, be sure to let us know,
and we can all have dinner at a restaurant there in town.”  She smiled.  “I’m afraid
I don’t entertain as much as I used to.  I don’t mind going to dinner parties, but
hosting them has become a chore in my old age.  I’m ready for Richard to retire so
we can just enjoy the grandchildren.”

Ellen smiled.  “I’ll make sure we do that.  I don’t know how to make sure of it, but
I will.  Maybe I can offer to drive so he can work along the way.”
  She did her best to keep a straight face as she made the suggestion.

“That might work!” Mrs. Merryweather
laughed.

The Chandlers stayed for a bit after the two other couples had left for the evening. 
“It does get better,” Elizabeth told Ellen.

“Are you sure?”
  Ellen hoped it did, because she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life thinking
she didn’t matter to her husband.

Elizabeth nodded.  “I don’t know if it gets better because they realize they’re ignoring
you and spend more time paying attention to you, or if it’s because we get used to
it.  Either way, in a few months you’ll be fine with it.”

“But what do you
do
all day?”
  Ellen knew her voice sounded desperate, but she’d reached a point where if she didn’t
have something constructive to do, she would lose her mind.

Elizabeth laughed.  “Now that I have Annabelle, I spend my days with her.  I take
her to the park and we play.  I feed her and my life revolves around her nap times.” 
She shrugged.  “Before she was born, I did some volunteer work at the local church. 
I’d take meals to shut
-
ins and that sort of thing.”

“I always expected to keep house for a man
to
cook and clean and use my skills to take care of my home.  I feel at a loss.  I spend
most mornings with my sister, because she’s just learning to cook, but the afternoons
are mine.  I’ve had this party to plan all week, but I don’t know what I’ll do now.”
  She really was at a loss for something to do.  If she hadn’t been new to town, she
would surely have friends to invite over or to go visit, but she’d been there less
than two weeks.  She only knew a handful of people.

“Why don’t you talk to Patrick about it?  I’m sure you can find some sort of volunteer
work to do.  Or you could redecorate the house.”

Ellen bit her lip as she thought about it.  “I did meet some orphans the first week
I was here.  I could go work with the orphans.  Do you know if they need help?”
  She hadn’t been able to get the orphans out of her mind.  She knew taking an active
role in their lives was what she wanted more than anything.  Hopefully Patrick would
agree.