A Mother in the Making (7 page)

He had hoped for more information about the young woman, and had specifically written to his mother to ask what she knew—but she had chosen to give nothing away. Why?

He grabbed his suit coat and slipped it on over his shirtsleeves and then stepped out of his room. The discussion about Miss Maren's past would have to wait for a more opportune time.

Miss Maren took several steps back, so she was standing closer to the stairwell than his bedroom.

He closed his door and joined her. “I'm in a bit of a hurry.” Winnie would be arriving shortly and he needed to finish getting ready. “What can I do for you? Is it the children?”

Miss Maren wore another elaborate gown. This one was a soft creamy color with lace lapels and a short train. Her curls were pulled back in a loose knot and she wore a pearl headband. She looked as if she were prepared to join him for supper—yet she was going to take care of eight children this evening. How she would manage in such an outfit was something John would enjoy watching.

Actually the thought of watching her do anything was appealing.

“I would like to talk to you about Mrs. Jensen.”

John pulled his thoughts off their ridiculous course and remembered that this woman was his children's governess. Their
temporary
governess. “Oh?”

She wove her fingers together and placed her hands in front of her waist. “I don't mean to be presumptuous—”

“But you will be.” John repositioned his stance and crossed his arms.

She lifted her chin in a way he was coming to recognize as defiance. “I feel I've spent enough time with your family to advise you.”

He leaned forward. “Oh, really?”

“I don't want you to make a mistake.”

A mistake? With Winnie? “Miss Maren, you have been in my house for precisely five days. I don't believe you're in a position to advise me about a woman you've never met.”

“I don't intend to advise you about Mrs. Jensen, per se. I hope to advise you about women in general.”

“I was married for eleven years. I hardly need advice about the opposite sex. You, on the other hand, have never been married.”

“But I'm a woman—doesn't that qualify me to give advice?”

“In this particular situation? No.”

“Things have changed in eleven years, and not all women are like your first wife. I just want to make sure you know what you're doing.”

He'd had enough of this conversation. “You're presuming I don't know what I'm doing, and your assumption is insulting. Winnie is a good friend and she is a good mother. I will make the best decision for me and my children, regardless of your opinion.” He straightened and repositioned his coat. “You will be leaving us in less than two months, so I don't believe you have much say in what I do.”

She unclasped her hands and lifted her chin even higher. “I just hope you don't make a grave mistake. A lifetime seems even longer when you're wrong.”

“Miss Maren, save your dramatic performance for the stage—”

“Screen.”

“This is real life and I intend to deal with it accordingly.”

“But what if you make a mistake? You and the children will be even more miserable than you are now.”

“This conversation is over. Please retrieve the children and bring them to the foyer. It's almost six o'clock and Winnie is always prompt.”

She exhaled a breath and then offered a brief nod. She spun on her heels and walked toward the other end of the hall and the third-floor stairway. She opened the door and the children's voices trailed down from the day nursery.

He ground his teeth and shoved his bedroom door open. Who was she to think she could give him advice about marriage? She was young and naive and didn't know the first thing about raising a family. Over the past five days, she had shown herself competent with the children—much to his surprise—but that didn't give her the license to intrude on his personal life.

John lifted the ends of his necktie and tied it tight, surprised at how Miss Maren's words had affected him. He understood, more than anyone, what he was planning to do. He would legally, and in the eyes of the church, bind himself to another woman for the rest of his life. Even after the children were grown and gone, his new wife would still be by his side.

He would not make a hasty decision.

For the first time since Anna's death, he longed to be on speaking terms with God. He needed to vent his frustrations and ask for guidance. What if he did make a mistake and they were more miserable? It was entirely possible that his good intentions could backfire.

He walked to the window and glanced out at the bleak world. His bedroom faced west and looked out at the buildings forming downtown Little Falls. The tall courthouse tower was visible over the leafless branches and the spire of St. Mary's Church reached toward the heavens just to the left. The Mississippi River cut through the cold earth, like a steel ribbon.

For some reason, John felt closer to God when he could look out his window at the sky. He swallowed his pain and spoke from a raw place in his heart. “I'm having a hard time understanding why You've allowed all this to happen, but I'm choosing to believe You at Your word. I know You have a purpose, even if I never fully understand what it is.” He rubbed his face and closed his eyes. “Please help me make the right choice. Please guide me in this important decision. I want what's best for my children. Amen.”

It wasn't grand or eloquent, but it was real and heartfelt. And it was a beginning.

Chapter Seven

J
ohn entered the front foyer and found Miss Maren standing at attention with Laura in her arms. Charlie, Lilly and Petey stood like little soldiers about to get their marching orders. Gone was the gentle teasing and lively conversation they had been enjoying with Miss Maren for the past few days.

John smoothed back his hair and adjusted his tie one last time. The hall clock said it was five minutes to six. Outside the windows, the sky had begun to darken, with only a hint of light in the west.

“All of you look very nice this evening,” John said to his children. “I hope you'll make me proud and be on your best behavior.”

Charlie looked at John with accusation. “You're not thinking of marrying Mrs. Jensen, are you?”

Lilly turned to John, the blue bow in her hair matching her startled eyes. “You're going to get married?”

John offered her a reassuring smile and put his hand on her head. “Don't worry about what I'm going to do. You're only eight, and you don't need to be concerned about grown-up things.”

Lilly put her hands over John's, and pulled his fingers off her head. She grasped John's hand and held it tight. “Don't get married again. Please.”

The front door suddenly opened and John's mother-in-law entered the house. She blinked several times at seeing them all standing in the foyer. “What do we have here?”

Dora walked in just behind Mother Scott, her sweet smile already in place.

“Aunt Dora!” The three older children stepped out of line and rushed to their aunt.

“Hello, children.” Dora hugged each one. “Charlie, you need a haircut,” she laughed as she ruffled his hair. “And, Lilly, I love the way your bow matches your eyes.” She reached down and picked up Petey. “And look at you! Is that a new toy?”

Petey held up a toy airplane, a grin on his face. “I can fly it!”

Where had Petey gotten a toy airplane?

“I would love to see.”

Petey arched the plane high over his head, making the appropriate airplane sounds.

Dora tickled his ribs and the two of them giggled. She finally glanced at John. “Hello.”

It was a mystery to John how Anna and Dora could be raised by Mother Scott and turn out so kind. “Hello, Dora.”

“Papa is getting married,” Lilly said to Dora with a scowl.

“Lilly.” John said her name quickly and with force.

Lilly took a step closer to her aunt.

“What's this?” Mother Scott asked.

Dora blinked several times, but didn't say a word.

“It's nothing.” John wanted to crawl into his office and disappear. “Mrs. Jensen is coming over for supper and the children made assumptions.”

Mother Scott's blue eyes narrowed. “Winifred Jensen?” She said the name as if Winnie were a leper. “Why would you marry her? I've never cared for that woman.”

“Mother, please,” Dora said. “Mrs. Jensen was Anna's friend.”

“I'm not marrying anyone,” John said evenly. “I'm simply having her over for supper.”

The hall clock chimed the hour. Winnie would arrive at any moment. The last thing John wanted was for Mother Scott to be present.

“Is there something I can do for you?” John asked.

“I was just coming to check on the children.” Mother Scott sent Miss Maren a withering look. “I've been worried sick about them since
she
arrived.”

Miss Maren opened her mouth to speak, but John cut off her retort. “You needn't worry. Miss Maren has been doing a splendid job.”

Miss Maren looked at John for the first time since he had entered the foyer, a bit of surprise in her eyes. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” John cleared his throat and took a step toward the door, hoping his mother-in-law would get the hint to leave. “You don't need to trouble yourself with checking on the children anymore—”

“I'll be keeping a close eye on this place,” Mother Scott said, still looking at Miss Maren. “Don't think I won't.”

Miss Maren hardly acknowledged Mother Scott, and John didn't blame her.

Over Dora's shoulder, through the open front door, Winnie appeared on the sidewalk carrying her twin girls, while the boys trailed behind.

John nearly groaned. This was not how he pictured this evening unfolding.

“Here's the woman now,” Mother Scott said, crossing her arms over her bosom.

Dora touched her sleeve. “Mother, we should take our leave.”

“Nonsense. If the woman is going to be the mother of my grandchildren, she'll need to get used to me now.”

John looked to Miss Maren, hoping she would somehow help, but her gaze was on Winnie as she walked up the front steps.

Winnie glanced up and found eight people staring at her. She faltered on the top step, her eyes sweeping the room until her gaze landed on John.

Poor Winnie. She was about to enter the inferno.

John took two giant steps to the door and met Winnie and her children there. “It's nice to see you again.”

Winnie looked at Mother Scott, Dora and then Miss Maren. “Is everyone joining us for supper tonight?”

“No.” John lifted his hand and indicated that she should enter the house. “My mother-in-law and sister-in-law were just leaving.”

“Yes,” Dora said, coming to John's rescue. “We were on our way out when we saw you coming.” She took her mother's elbow and walked her over to the door. “It's so nice to see you again, Mrs. Jensen. Do have a nice meal.”

“But, Dora.” Mother Scott yanked her arm away. “This woman could very well take your place. Won't you stay and fight for John?”

Dora's cheeks turned pink and she glanced at John quickly. “Mother, please hold your tongue.”

“Why am I the only one who speaks her mind?” Mother Scott asked. “I'm simply saying what you're thinking.”

“I'm thinking no such thing.” Dora took her mother's arm again and managed to get her outside. “Goodbye, John. Children. Miss Maren. Goodbye, Mrs. Jensen.”

John could have kissed Dora right then and there for removing Mother Scott from the house. “Goodbye.”

“You're making another mistake,” Mother Scott said over her shoulder. “First hiring Miss Maren and now dining with Mrs. Jensen.”

John closed the door tight against the woman's words. “I'm sorry,” he said to Winnie and Miss Maren.

Winnie stood in the middle of the foyer, her brown eyes filled with apprehension. She looked pretty this evening with her hair styled carefully. All four children had been cleaned, their hair still slick with water.

“Winnie, this is my governess, Miss Maren.” John indicated Miss Maren.

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” Winnie said.

“Two sets of twins?” Miss Maren shook her head in amazement. “How do you do it?”

“I don't have much choice, now, do I?” Winnie asked with a smile, though her words were underlined with exhaustion and irritation.

Miss Maren closed her mouth and didn't respond.

John quickly intervened. “Miss Maren will take the children up to the day nursery, where they will eat a meal and be entertained.”

“How nice.” Winnie passed a toddler into Marjorie's available arm and then set the other girl on her feet. “I'm ready for a bit of a break.”

Miss Maren jostled Laura in one arm and one of the twins in the other. Her gown was splotchy from Laura's drool, and her hair was pulled out of its pins in various places from Laura's curious hands.

She looked like a mother—a very pretty mother.

“The two older boys are Isaac and Isaiah, and the girls are Daphne and Delphine,” Winnie said. “The boys will tell you who is who.”

Miss Maren looked at each of Winnie's children, her brow tilted in curiosity. “Come with me children,” she finally instructed. “Lilly, please take the other little girl's hand, and, Charlie, make sure Petey and the Jensen boys follow.”

Miss Maren confidently walked up the stairs looking like the Pied Piper with all the children following her. She glanced back at John, her green eyes probing. But for what, he didn't know.

The foyer was now silent, save the ticking of the grandfather clock, and it was just the two of them. “You look beautiful, Winnie.”

Winnie touched her brown hair a bit self-consciously. “Do you think so?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Thank you.”

They stood for a moment, the air feeling awkward around them. The last time Winnie had been in his house, Anna had been the hostess and John hadn't considered that one day he would be interviewing Winnie to be his wife.

“Would you like to go into the dining room? Mrs. Gohl has dinner prepared.”

Winnie sighed. “It will be a treat to eat a meal I haven't cooked with my own hands.”

She was much thinner than he recalled, and her skin had a pale tone he didn't like. She had taken Calvin's death hard, which didn't surprise him, and the grief had not been kind to her.

John held out a chair for her, the one directly to the left of his chair, and she took a seat. She smelled of rosewater and something else, maybe bread.

After she sat, John took his seat. “Again, I'm sorry for my mother-in-law's comments. She's grieving her own loss, in her own way.” He had stood up to her once after Anna's death, and the woman had retreated in tears for almost a week. John had been very careful around her since, which meant she got away with much more than he would normally allow.

Winnie set her clasped hands on the table. “Have you given any more thought to my proposal?”

He had, a great deal, but now wasn't the time to talk about it. “Shall we enjoy a nice meal before we talk business?”

She nodded, though she looked anxious to get on with their conversation.

For now, they would try to have a normal meal and get to know each other better.

They had plenty of time to talk about marriage later.

* * *

The third-floor nursery had become one of Marjorie's favorite rooms in the house. Large and airy, with pine plank floors and a steep ceiling, it had little alcoves where the dormer windows looked out in three directions around town. To the south and east were the rooftops and trees of neighborhood homes, with a glimpse of the children's yellow brick school, and to the west, the beautiful downtown buildings and Mississippi River. Petey and Charlie's room was behind the north wall, with one more dormer window.

“One of those boys took Petey's airplane,” Lilly said with her hands on her hips.

“Which one?” Marjorie asked, looking at the identical Jensen boys. They both had their hands behind their backs.

One of the little girls began to cry—but which one was it? Daphne or Delphine? “What happened to her?” Marjorie asked Charlie, who was standing near the stairway door, watching the whole circus.

“I don't know.”

The other little girl began to cry, too, her head tipped back, her face red, and tears seeping out of her eyes.

Petey put his hands over his ears and tucked his knees up to his chest. He closed his eyes tight and rocked back and forth on his bottom.

“Petey.” Marjorie took a step to the little boy, but Laura began to fuss from the basinet near the south window.

“Lilly, could you please pick up Laura?”

“But what about Petey's airplane? That Jensen boy still has it and won't give it back.” Lilly pointed to the little boy who clutched the airplane to his chest now.

The other Jensen boy walked up to Marjorie and tugged on her dress. “I have to go.”

Marjorie wanted to put her hands over her ears and join Petey on the floor. Instead, she looked at Charlie. “Could you please take him down to the water closet for me?”

Charlie sighed and nodded. “Come on.” He put his hand on the boy's shoulder. “Which one are you?”

“Isaac.”

They left the nursery, but the crying prevailed. Marjorie bent over and touched the first Jensen girl who had begun to cry. “What's wrong, sweetheart?”

“I want Mama!” she wailed.

“Me, too,” cried the other one.

“Laura needs her diaper changed,” Lilly said loudly from the south side of the room. “It leaked through and now her dress is spoiled.”

It wasn't right to ask Lilly to change Laura's diaper—but it didn't seem right to ask her to stay with the crying children, either.

“Can you please get a new diaper and a change of clothing? I'll have to change her up here.”

Lilly set Laura down in the basinet again and left the nursery.

Petey suddenly stood up, his face red. He raced across the nursery on his way to the stairway door.

Marjorie caught him a moment before his hand touched the doorknob, swinging him up into her arms. “Where are you going?”

Petey tried to wiggle out of her hold. “I want Papa.”

“I'm sorry, but you can't go to your papa right now.”

Petey's lower lip began to tremble and he crossed his arms, but he didn't try to get away again.

Marjorie set him on his feet and looked at the boy holding Petey's airplane—Isaiah. Should she tell Petey he must share, or should she insist that Isaiah return the item, since he took it without permission? How did you deal with a situation like this?

“Petey, Isaiah is a guest. Let's let him play with the airplane for a few minutes and then we'll ask for it back.”

Petey's bottom lip quivered. He ran across the room and raced into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

Laura and the Jensen girls continued to cry, and nothing Marjorie could do would convince the twins to settle down. She tried pointing out toys in the room, and then items outside the window, but nothing distracted them from their tears.

Finally Lilly and Charlie returned to the nursery with Isaac, and Marjorie was able to change Laura.

“Is this what it would always be like?” Charlie asked, his face sullen. “If Papa marries Mrs. Jensen?”