Authors: Mona Hodgson
Opal’s riotous laughter drew more attention. “I stopped at the shop to see you.”
Vivian glanced across the street and down a block. From that distance, the slate sign she’d hung on the door of Etta’s Fashion Designs looked like a postage stamp.
Opal regarded the plate in Vivian’s hands. “Dinner for our legendary chief of police?”
“Yes.” Vivian felt her face warm with memories of her and Carter. They’d been married nearly eleven months now. Before their first Christmas as man and wife, he’d traded his job as a county-roaming deputy sheriff for his new role in law enforcement. A job that afforded him the opportunity to remain close to home and her the chance to surprise him with an occasional visit at the office.
“You know I’m happy for you.” A cloud shadowed the smile on Opal’s face.
“I know. Thank you.” Vivian glanced toward the police department on the next block. “You were looking for me?”
“Yes. To tell you I’m no longer working at the confectionary. I wasn’t making enough money to pay the rent.”
Vivian swallowed the trepidation threatening to overwhelm her.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t go back to the Homestead.” Opal straightened her shoulders. “I’m done working in the red-light district.”
Vivian’s deep sigh surprised even her, and they both giggled. “Good,” she said, “but what will you do?”
“It seems Mr. Updike feels guilty about leading a double life.”
“Oh?”
Opal’s green eyes sparkled in a wide grin. “He holds a lot of stock in the telephone company here.”
Vivian nodded. “He was the reason I was fired.” At least that’s what that sourpuss Mara Wilkening had said.
Opal nodded. “Yes, well, apparently our nocturnal banker was feeling guilty and suggested I apply for a job at the telephone company. I start work tomorrow.”
“Good for you.”
“I know you had trouble there, but—”
“You’ll do fine.” Vivian moistened her lips. “We’ll have to swap stories over tea.”
“Soon.” Opal looked at the plate in Vivian’s hand. “Right now you’d best take that to your man.”
Vivian nodded. “God bless you.”
When Opal turned onto Third Street, Vivian continued up Bennett Avenue and breathed a prayer for her friend to find a godly man who loved her.
A new two-story brick building in the middle of the block between Third Street and Second housed the Cripple Creek Police Department. At the glass door, Vivian shifted the plate to one hand.
Before she could grab the handle, the door swung open. Officer Gleason pulled his cap from his balding head. “Good day, Mrs. Alwyn.” He stared at her face as if looking at her pregnant belly was a sin.
“I brought him some dinner.”
“That’s good, ma’am. I was headed out to find him something to eat.” He glanced toward the short hallway on his left. “Chief’s in his office.”
“Thank you.” She dipped her chin and walked past a desk and a file cabinet and stopped outside the closed doorway.
“If that’s you, Gleason, you’d better have a big biscuit or a steak … something
for me to eat. Otherwise, I may take to chewin’ on this paperwork. Probably the only way to rid myself of it.”
Barely able to hold back the laughter bubbling inside her, Vivian opened the office door and peeked in at her man. “Chewing paperwork? Wouldn’t want to miss that, Chief Alwyn.”
Carter jumped out of his chair, sending it crashing into a file cabinet. “Mrs. Alwyn, am I ever glad to see you.” Taking long strides toward her, he pointed to the dish in her hand. “And that.”
She held the plate away from him. “What’s it worth to you?”
He gave the door behind her a shove. It hadn’t even clicked shut before his lips found hers. “Mm-mm.”
Vivian agreed. Carter’s affections still made her heart sing. “Another one of those, and the veal cutlet is yours.”
“My pleasure.” Love and hunger smoldered in his dark eyes. Bending to kiss her again, he rested his hand on her belly. Just as their lips met, their baby kicked at his hand. He laughed and met her gaze. “Not too surprising she’s a feisty little miss.” He tapped Vivian on the nose.
She pretended to snap at his finger. “Or an ornery lad like you.”
He gave her a lazy smile. “Either way, we’ll have our hands full.” He took the plate from her. “I thought you were designing a winter ball gown for Mrs. Johnstone.”
“I was.” She removed her shawl. “Then I remembered that my poor police chief left the house early, before I could make his dinner plate. I knew you wouldn’t take the time away from your city council reports to go to the café.”
“Pretty
and
smart.” After kissing her on the cheek, Carter placed his other hand in the small of her back and guided her to an armed chair near his desk. Seated, he uncovered the plate and pulled a fork from a desk drawer. Midbite, he regarded the sack on her lap. “More surprises for me in the sack? Dessert?”
“You started with your dessert, remember?” She winked. “Going to the parsonage from here. I have apple scones for Ida.”
“Still not back to work?”
“No. She’s not leaving the house much. Miss Hattie’s concerned about her. We all are.”
“I’m sorry.”
Vivian nodded, automatically pressing her hand to her middle, inviting a kick. She and Carter didn’t talk about Ida’s miscarriage. For obvious reasons.
Fifteen minutes later, Vivian left Carter to his paperwork and walked up the street. When the white steeple of the First Congregational Church came into view, her mind strolled down memory lane. She remembered the first time she visited the parsonage, saw the church and the steeple. She’d arrived in Cripple Creek earlier in the day feeling like a lost sheep. An outcast in disguise. She’d felt unlovable. But in a matter of months, God and Carter Alwyn had extended amazing grace to her and proven her wrong.
So much had changed for her.
And for Ida.
As Vivian walked the graveled path to the parsonage, she asked God to give her the words to encourage Ida. Should she even be here? Her big belly was probably the last thing Ida wanted to see. She’d never understand God’s ways. And today she was having trouble accepting His way with Ida.
Vivian knocked three times. Ida may have gone out. But what if she was all alone, melancholy and refusing to see anyone?
Vivian leaned forward. “Ida, it’s me. Are you in there?”
She heard sniffling, and then the door crept open. Her big sister stood before her, stoop-shouldered, her face blotchy and damp. A stream of sunlight striped the drab frock Ida wore.
Vivian breathed another prayer. “I’m coming in.”
Ida nodded.
Inside, Vivian closed the door behind her and glanced into the parlor. “Your curtains are drawn.”
“I was in the bedroom.”
“Are you feeling ill?”
Ida sniffed. Red rimmed her dull blue eyes. “I’m a terrible person, Vivian. The worst sister-in-law ever.”
Vivian had never seen her sister like this. “Willow adores you.”
“How can she?”
“Let’s go to the kitchen.” Vivian held up the sack. “I brought scones. We’ll have some tea.”
“I’m not good company.”
“I can see that.” Her turn to be the big sister. “Let’s go to the kitchen anyway.” She drew in a deep breath and held her hand out to Ida.
Ida gripped Vivian’s hand and followed her to the table.
Vivian pulled out a chair. “How about you sit, and I’ll serve you for a change.”
The tea made and the scones set out on dessert plates, Vivian carried the serving tray to the table. She sat across from Ida and slid a teacup to her silent sister. “Did something happen with Willow? Was she here?”
“I went to her.”
“To the showroom? You were out?”
“Hattie came by.” Ida tucked a strand of light brown hair behind her ear. “Said she’d had tea with you and Nell this morning.”
Vivian nodded. “You were invited.”
“I didn’t feel like going out. Hattie said Willow might appreciate seeing me, said a stroll to the icehouse would do me good.” Ida stared at her teacup. “Hattie was wrong.”
That was hard to believe. “Do you need a lump of sugar?”
“I don’t know what I need.” Ida reached for the sugar bowl. “Willow needed me. She had a big sale and didn’t know how to fill out the order forms.” Her spoon clanged against the sides of the cup.
“It’s good you went to the showroom.” Vivian sipped tea, savoring the tingle of mint on her tongue.
“Willow was happy to see me, and so was the impatient customer.” A
frown dimpled Ida’s chin. “I couldn’t stay. As soon as the papers were signed, I remembered my baby. Two weeks ago tomorrow.” She let the spoon fall against the cup and met Vivian’s gaze. “I get sad.”
“There’s nothing wrong with feeling sad.”
Ida quirked a thin eyebrow.
“It’s what you do with the sadness. It’ll push on you every chance it gets, but you can’t let it hold you down.”
“How did you get so smart?”
“By making mistakes.”
“Maybe you should’ve been the big sister.”
“No, thank you.” Vivian tilted her head. “It’s far too much work for me.”
Ida blurted a giggle. “But you’re so good at it.”
“I am?”
“I’m out of bed and sipping tea, aren’t I?” Ida raised the cup to her mouth.
Vivian slid a dessert plate toward Ida. “It’s apple. If you like the scone, I’ll give you the recipe. It’s a specialty of Carter’s mother.”
“How is he?”
“Happy and full of veal. I took him dinner before coming here.”
“You’re a good wife.”
“So are you.”
“I don’t know. Lately …”
“You’ll feel better.”
“You’re easy to believe, little big sister.”
They both laughed and Vivian dropped a bite of cinnamon-laced apple pastry into her mouth. “Mm-mm. Delicious. Even I have to say so myself.”
Ida pulled the dessert plate closer, then scooped a forkful of the scone into her mouth.
Her eyes widened and she licked her lips. “I need to get the recipe.”
They finished the scones and drained their teacups, and Ida stood and
started filling the tray with the dirty dishes. Vivian leaned forward to slide her empty cup to Ida and felt as if she’d run into a brick wall stomach first. She looked down and stared at the space between her and the table.
“What’s wrong?” Ida returned the tray to the table.
“I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right.” But just as suddenly as the sensation appeared, it left. She blew out a breath, relieved.
Ida sank into a chair, her brow creased. “Are you having the baby?”
Vivian’s pulse quickened. “Now?”
“I don’t know.”
“The baby needs to wait. I wanted Father to be here first.”
Ida dipped her chin and raised an eyebrow. “You may not have much say in the timing.”
“Everything felt tight, but not for long.”
Ida stood. “We should call Kat. She’s had a baby, and her husband’s a doctor.”
“Did you call her when—”
“This is different.”
Vivian pressed her lips together, wanting to believe her big sister. But what if it wasn’t different? She’d heard of too many women who’d lost their babies well into pregnancy.
In an instant, Ida stood beside the telephone on the wall talking to an operator. Then she said, “Hello, Kat. You need to talk to Vivian.” She waved Vivian over.
Vivian joined her sister and took the cone from her.
“Viv?” Kat’s calm voice seemed to mock the storm brewing in Vivian’s thoughts.
“Yes.”
“You’re at Ida’s? Is she all right?”
“Better. But—”
“Something’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t know. I had a … It wasn’t actually a pain, but it was my belly.”
“Feel like someone was squeezing you around the middle?”
“Yes, that’s what it felt like.”
Ida pushed a chair toward her, and Vivian sat.
“How long did it last?” Kat asked.
“It takes me longer to blow my nose.”
“How many times has it happened?”
“Just that once.”
Ida wrung her hands. No, it wasn’t easy being a big sister.
“How long ago, Viv?” Kat asked.
“Just before we called you. Four or five minutes.”
“And you’re not feeling anything else?”
“Like I drank two cups of tea.” Vivian giggled.
“But you haven’t felt any leaking or seen any blood today?” Kat could’ve been interviewing her for a magazine article.
“No, nothing else.”
“It could be a false start then. I had some of that before Hope was born.”
“How long?”
“About a month.”
“A month? What do I do? How will I know?”
“If my niece or nephew is ready to come, you’ll have more of the tightening
and
pain, closer together.”
“I feel fine now. I was about to leave.”
“I wouldn’t just yet. Wait a few minutes to be sure nothing more is going on.” Hope fussed in the background. “I can have Morgan stop by on his way home to check on you.”
“That’s not necessary.” At least she hoped it wasn’t. “I’ll telephone if anything else happens.”
Vivian hung up, and she and Ida visited for another forty minutes without incident before Ida walked with her to the road.
“Thank you for coming to see me. And for the scone and the distraction.” Ida gave her a gentle hug. “Amazing how thinking of others can so affect one’s disposition.”
“It certainly works for me.” And right now the baby had her full attention.