Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles] (37 page)

He was thinking of the Friendship Home with more than a little nostalgia. It was hard to imagine any other project would provide the kind of satisfaction this one had.
Unless I get to build something for my bride one day.
He put that thought away and headed back inside to see if he could help the kitchen crew by hauling boxes out of the back hall.

“Mr. Gregory, could I bother you for just a moment?” Mrs. Harrison stood in the doorway to her office. “I think I underestimated the amount of space there would be in here.” She stepped back from the doorway to let him in. “I have a bookcase—a small one—in the house that I brought from Wisconsin. Do you remember it?” When Cass nodded, she chuckled. “Indeed, how could you forget it. I hovered like a mother over a newborn when you hauled it into the cottage.” She paused. “The thing is, now that I’m moved in here, I think there’s room for it.” She pointed at an open space beneath one of the windows. “If I put it there, it would form a wing off the desk.” Cass nodded. “Very functional.”

“It was my husband’s. I like the idea of having part of him here where I’ll be spending so much time. I know you’ve sent the crew home, and I don’t want you to make a special trip back out here. Do you think the two of us could manage it? I’m stronger than I look.”

Cass hesitated.

“Can we at least try?”

Reluctantly, he agreed. There was no way this birdlike little woman was going to be able to haul an oak bookcase this far.

“Excellent!” She smiled. “If Johnny’s still napping, I’ll ask Jenny to hold the door open for us.”

Much to Cass’s amazement, the little birdlike woman was, as she said, stronger than she looked. They carried the bookcase out of the house and over to the steps, and then into Friendship Home and her office without a hitch.

When they had it settled into place, Mrs. Harrison clasped her hands together and stood, beaming down at it. “It’s perfect.” She stood on tiptoe and gave Cass a hug. “Thank you so much.” She swept her hand across the smooth top. “I’m going to get one of my antimacassars and set Reggie’s Bible atop it. Right here.” Her voice wavered. “I like to think he’d be proud of my striking out this way.”

“I’m sure he is,” Cass said. He turned about at the sound of someone clearing her throat. Aunt Theodora stood in the doorway.

“I believe we have concluded for the day,” she said. “I wanted to leave Mrs. Harrison with my notes. For her files.”

“Thank you.” Mrs. Harrison stepped forward and took the stack of papers in Miss Theodora’s hand. She opened the top drawer of the oak filing cabinet that stood between the two windows just behind her desk and said something about “my first official filing.” She turned about. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you about something, Miss Theodora.”

“Indeed.” She looked at Cass.

He reached up to wipe his mouth, thinking maybe he still had food on his chin from lunch. Ma had served the most amazing berry pie for dessert today. He was already looking forward to a second piece after supper tonight.

Mrs. Harrison seemed oblivious. She went on to ask Miss Theodora if she’d consider helping her organize the files that would be coming in when the residents began to arrive. “I’ve seen how gifted you are at organization. I don’t want to impose on your good graces, but I wondered if you would be able to spare a little time that first week.”

Miss Theodora didn’t hesitate. “I’d be delighted.”

“That’s wonderful! Thank you!” Mrs. Harrison beamed.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll excuse myself,” Cass said. He retreated, very nearly shivering under Miss Theodora’s icy stare. What had he done?

Juliana pulled the last pillowcase onto the last pillow in the upstairs room that would have been Aunt Theodora’s and settled the pillow on the bed. She and Lutie Gleason had had a pleasant afternoon together as they made up beds and chatted about toy drives and book drives and whether or not they should have green plants in every room in the house or only in the rooms downstairs and what kind of framed art they should put on the walls. Lutie thought they should have something inspirational in each room, and Juliana agreed.

“Although I suppose there will be varying opinions as to what is and is not inspirational.” Juliana smiled. “We do have several members on the committee who have somewhat strong opinions.”

“Really?” Lutie forced surprise into her voice. “I hadn’t noticed.”

The two women shared a laugh, and then Lutie said, “Are you familiar with the hymn ‘What a Friend We Have in Jesus’?”

Juliana nodded. “Enough to know it’s perfect, and I wish I’d thought of it.”

“I thought I would stop at the stationer’s next week and see how much it would cost to have the lyrics printed up. Something attractive that we could frame and hang in each room.”

Juliana took a deep breath. “It doesn’t seem that we’ll ever be truly finished.”

“I think,” Lutie said, “that for those of us who care to do it, Friendship Home can be a lifelong project. But for today, I think we say we’re finished.”

Juliana was on her way out the front door with the aunts when Mrs. Harrison called to her from the doorway to her office. “If I might have a word alone, Mrs. Sutton?”

Juliana stepped into the office. “It looks like you’re ready to go to work today,” she said. “We were concerned this room wouldn’t be large enough.”

“It’s perfect. I love it. I love the view, and all this light? It’s spectacular.” She glanced pointedly into the entryway. The house was silent. She took a deep breath. “I can’t help but sense, Mrs. Sutton, that I’ve done something to offend you. If so, I apologize. But I need to know what it is, so that I don’t repeat the offense.”

“I don’t know why you’d think that.”

“You’ve always seemed in rather a hurry to get away from me. At church. This past Monday morning. And most of this week, to be quite honest.”

Juliana glanced out the window. Aunt Theodora was talking to Cass. What was that about? “Monday was …” She shook her head.

“It was probably very difficult for you.” Mrs. Harrison’s voice was gentle. “You’ve only been a widow for a few months. It’s been two years for me. It may be hard to believe, but it will get easier.” She rested her hand atop a Bible sitting on the bookshelf beside her desk. “Not a day goes by that I don’t miss Reggie terribly. Of course nothing can ever fill the space in our lives they leave. But you learn to live around it. The raw edges heal with time.”

Juliana could only nod. After all, the woman meant well. “I didn’t mean to be rude on Monday,” she said. “I’d ridden out here to be alone in the house for a few minutes before everything changed for good. And you clearly had plans with Mr. Gregory.” She swallowed. “As for Sundays, every time I’ve intended to say good morning, you’ve been deep in conversation with Mr. Gregory. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Mrs. Harrison stood transfixed, and then she smiled. Nodded. “I see.” She glanced out the windows. “I am hoping that, in time, you and I will be friends.” She smiled. “I suppose I am at an advantage, since I’ve heard so much about you. I feel like I know you, thanks to the time I’ve spent with Theodora and Lydia. They speak so highly of you. And then of course there’s Cass. We’ve been rather ‘thrown together’ these past few weeks, what with all the plans for this place.”

Juliana knew. Yes. She knew how that was, being thrown together with Cass because of the project.

Mrs. Harrison seemed to be studying her. Finally she smiled.

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“About Cass.”

Juliana’s heart thumped. She didn’t want to hear this. Not today.

“He’s in love with you.”

She gasped. “What? But he hasn’t … I thought you …”

Mrs. Harrison laughed. “Just as I thought. You didn’t know.”

“How could I? He hasn’t said anything.”

She crossed the office and looked out the window. “I think they’re waiting for you.” She nodded toward the Bible atop her bookcase. “Everyone is different, Mrs. Sutton. I don’t think I’ll ever remarry, but if I’m not mistaken, you will.” She smiled. “He’s a very good man. I hope you’ll give him a chance when the time comes.” She paused. “And I hope you’ll reconsider my bid for friendship.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes,” Mrs. Harrison said. “And call me Caroline.”

There be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four which I know not:
The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; and the way of a man with a maid.
P
ROVERBS
30:18–19

O
n Saturday, Lutie Gleason came to the front door in a dither to show Juliana and her aunts what she’d found at the printer’s. “Just look!” she said and opened the folder in her hand. “You won’t believe where the printer sent me.” She chattered as she followed Juliana into the library where she and the aunts had been taking their morning tea.

“To Lindermann’s!” She nodded at the aunts. “He has all kinds of connections to various types of cards and greetings—for comfort, you know. And—” She held up a beautifully engraved sheet of paper, a poem in the center, a garland of forget-me-nots around it. “Or we can have dogwood, or even poppies. It’s up to us. I suppose we could get some of each, depending on the room it’s going in. But Mr. Lindermann said that he would be happy to provide them. As many as we want!” She broke off, breathless, and waved at Juliana. “You tell the rest of our idea.”

“Lutie came up with the idea of framing the words to ‘What a Friend We Have in Jesus’ in each room.” She glanced at Aunt Theodora. “Do you remember the words? I don’t know that we ever sang it at First Church. Lutie recited the words for me.”

Aunt Theodora shook her head. “I don’t recall. Read them.”

Juliana read:

She swallowed. Cleared her throat, and managed to get through the next two verses:

When she had to stop reading again, she looked at the aunts and Lutie. All of them had tears in their eyes. Juliana laughed. “Well, it seems we’ve hit a nerve.”

Aunt Theodora nodded. “It’s perfect for a place called Friendship Home.”

Juliana managed to read the last verse through tears:

Together, the ladies removed to the dining room and spread out the samples Mr. Lindermann had provided.

“Now, what about frames?”

“Cabinet frames,” Aunt Theodora said. “From Miss Stein’s studio over on P Street.”

Aunt Lydia chimed in. “Or Herpolsheimers?”

“You wouldn’t want to go now and see?” Lutie asked. “I’d love to have these up when we have the open house.”

And so the ladies set out on an impromptu Saturday afternoon shopping trip. The Sutton women offered to stop at Lindermann’s and place the order for the prints on their way home. Mr. Lindermann, gracious as always, reassured them that it was his privilege to provide the prints at no cost to a good cause and promised that he would forgo the “courtesy of Lindermann’s Funeral Parlor” insignia that he usually put at the bottom of such things.