Circled Heart (18 page)

“Smart and obedient, two exemplary but rare qualities in a man,” I responded tartly. Then turning back to Fritz, I said, “I’m ready when you are,” and the long day began. I didn’t notice where and when Drew left because once Fritz let in the first applicant, who had been waiting in line since before sunrise, I didn’t have time for anything but the seemingly endless supply of needy women who came in search of work.

That day stayed with me a long time, especially through my dreams. For months afterwards, I awoke in the night, panicked by the vision of a mass of women on the shore of a small, crowded island, arms extended toward me, calling out my name in an ever-increasing din of desperation. In my dream, I stood exhausted and indecisive on the deck of a huge ship that remarkably resembled the Titanic and watched the crowd of women grow smaller and smaller as the vessel pulled away from the island. Angrily weeping, I began to search the ship for lifeboats, looking everywhere, yanking open doors and cupboards, asking for help from faceless people who promenaded the decks and invariably turned away from me, bored and annoyed.

“We can’t leave them behind!” I cried and in the way of dreams, my attempt at speech always awakened me. I would lie in the darkness, at first disoriented and then conscious of a great relief that it was only a dream after all. That day at Cox’s Fine Women’s Garments affected me so strongly, I suppose, because I held the power of a better life in my hands and could grant it only to a select few.

We never made it to the end of the line of applicants and eventually had to send women away. Coward that I am, I made Fritz do it.

“I can’t face them,” I admitted. “Thank you, Fritz.” Then I sat down gracelessly, tired and sad but triumphant, too. I believed I had selected the right women for the jobs, all of them hard-working and determined to better themselves.

Drew must have entered from the rear door because I didn’t see him return. Coming up behind me, he asked, “Are you satisfied with the results of the day, Johanna?”

“I’ll think too long and too often about the women we turned away, but yes, I am satisfied.”

He moved around in front of me and reached down to take a hand. “Come along, Miss Swan. You look all in. We’ll stop at my house where Yvesta has been working all day on a special dinner, and then Fritz can drive you home.”

I didn’t protest. At the moment, I was completely content to have someone else make the decisions. I had made enough for one day. We hardly spoke on the drive, but Yvesta more than made up for the quiet when she met us at the door.

“Johanna, I’ve been waiting all day to see you! When Mr. Gallagher said you might visit, I was so pleased I could have hugged him. Wait ‘til you see how the girls have grown. Mr. Gallagher said they’re to go to school in the fall. You were right to make me come.”

“I didn’t make you come,” I protested, oddly hurt by the words.

Yvesta only laughed. “No one can stand up against you when you’ve made up your mind, Johanna, and you had already decided this was the place for me. I didn’t have the nerve to argue much, but I sure didn’t want to come. You were right, though, and I was wrong.”

Drew interjected, “You’ve never admitted that to Fritz and me, Yvesta.”

“Because,” Yvesta responded, turning to start back down the hallway, “it’s yet to be true about either of you.” There was no rancor in her tone, only affection and humor. I sensed that Yvesta liked Drew Gallagher and was happy in her job, and the knowledge perked up my spirits.

“Come outside and sit on the terrace.” Drew led me into the library, the room where I’d first seen him weeks ago, and out the French doors onto the stone terrace that overlooked a broad expanse of green lawn. The yard, backed by a brick wall, had the look of a spacious private park. After he left to find refreshments, I slipped off my jacket, ran a hand inelegantly through my hair, and plopped into the nearest chair. Drew reappeared with two glasses of wine, sat down next to me, and stretched out his long legs in a casual pose, both of us shoulder to shoulder and looking out at the empty lawn.

“Two years ago Douglas gave an Independence Day party here on the lawn. As was his style, everything was coordinated and luxurious, expensive caterers, big pots of red, white, and blue flowers,” Drew waved an expressive hand out toward the yard, “tables with festive umbrellas draped in silk, and servants hovering everywhere. He’d invited his business and political associates and anyone else worth impressing, including his enemies. Maybe them especially. Douglas wore wealth so effectively that both his associates and his rivals sometimes wished him dead.” I couldn’t read Drew’s tone and sitting as we were, I couldn’t see his face either.

“And did his brother, too?” I asked. If my question startled Drew or offended him, he certainly didn’t show it. Instead, when I glanced over at him, he appeared deep in thought.

Finally Drew said, “I did on occasion, Johanna, but only on occasion.”

“Brothers sometimes quarrel, I’m told.”

“You’ve been told right. In retrospect it seems he and I were always quarreling. He thought I was too irresponsible, and I thought he was too serious. Now I believe we were both right. Douglas didn’t have much respect for me.”

“Did he love you?”

That question did startle him. “Love me? I don’t know. I never thought about it.” He took a sip of wine, frowning to himself. “I don’t think so. If Douglas loved anyone, it was the woman who refused him, and even that’s debatable. Douglas enjoyed acquiring beautiful objects for the twin purposes of display and prestige. Acquisition was a game and being refused only increased his desire and his sense of purpose.”

“Are you talking about the regal Katherine?”

Drew nodded. “I grant you Katherine looked regal, but she didn’t have a pretentious bone in her body. I know for a fact that she didn’t realize what a beauty she was. Douglas never understood that Katherine was much more interested in principles than appearances. For a while I worried that she would be drawn into a life with Douglas, and I knew that would never do. He had certain bad—habits—that would have ended up hurting her. Katherine was much, much too good for him.” I was conscious of a prick of envy at the admiration in his tone and ashamed of the sudden and completely unwarranted proprietary interest I felt for Drew Gallagher.

To make up for my shabby feelings, I said quickly, “Don’t be too quick to dismiss Douglas’s affection for you, Drew. You’re the one he thought of at the end, after all.”

Drew didn’t answer, and after a while he went on without reacting to my comment. “Now that I think about it, you’re very much like Katherine, Johanna.”

“Six inches shorter, unmanageable hair, a brown complexion, and a complete lack of elegance,” I responded with good humor, “but if you say so, who am I to argue?”

He turned to look at me sternly and ask, “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Turn every compliment against yourself. Poke fun at yourself.”

I started to argue that I never did that but stopped before I got out a word. Finally, I answered meekly, “I don’t have any illusions about myself, Drew. I’m not hideous, but I’m no beauty, either, so I don’t trust flattery, which is usually all superficial. I suppose I want to make sure that people understand I’m not taken in by it, but I can see it’s a boorish way to accept a compliment, and in the future I’ll try to be more gracious. Grandmother would say, ‘A simple thank you would suffice, Johanna,’ and of course, she’s right.”

Drew listened intently in the way he had that made you think you were saying words of enormous importance and then explained, “I didn’t mean you looked like Katherine. Obviously there’s a marked difference in physical appearance, though I’m amazed at how you see yourself. It’s in attitude and temperament that I recognize definite similarities between the two of you.”

“Do I say thank you now?”

He laughed. “You are incorrigible. No. A thank you is not necessary. I only meant that you and Katherine are both strong-minded women with a very clear vision of right and wrong. Neither of you is afraid to speak bluntly, but I give you the edge on that. No one takes me to task as forthrightly and as frequently as you.”

“Ah, at least I excel at one worthwhile thing.”

Drew laughed again and stood up. “Come along, Miss Swan. You’re getting light-headed from hunger.”

“No, from the wine on an empty stomach. If I don’t eat something soon, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

Drew held open the terrace door into the library and said in a low voice as I passed, “Don’t tempt me, Johanna. The idea of you with your defenses down is very appealing.” I stopped on the threshold and looked up at him, still standing very close.

“I’m flattered, Drew. Coming from you and considering the competition, that remark deserves another thank you.”

“That must be the wine speaking,” he responded lightly, stepping away from me to pull the doors shut behind us. But I knew in my heart the wine had nothing to do with it.

Over Yvesta’s carefully prepared dinner of a light summer soup, crusty bread, and a fresh fruit tart, we discussed the day’s activities.

“You look better,” Drew told me from across the table. “I thought the day had affected you and not for the good.”

“You were right. I hated being the godlike figure, the one to decide who should be chosen and who rejected. Everyone was so needy and there were so many sad stories that every hour just became more burdensome. One more person to refuse. One more woman to turn away.”

“But also one more person to receive hope and one more homeless woman to have shelter.”

“Yes.” His words lightened my spirits. “You’re absolutely right, Drew. I was thinking of it backwards. That doesn’t mean I won’t have bad dreams about it, of course, but concentrating on the positive helps.”

“Do you have bad dreams? Somehow that doesn’t seem to fit with what I know of you.”

I felt warmth rise in my cheeks. “It’s not something I talk about.”

He ignored what must have been my heightened color and asked, “Have you always had nightmares?”

“Ever since I left China. Those particular dreams faded over time, but the Titanic disaster has bred its own new crop.”

“Is Douglas featured in any of them?”

“Yes, but don’t ask me details because I won’t share them.”

Drew put both elbows on the table and stared at me. “Bad dreams seem out of character for you, Johanna, so is there a touch of insecurity lurking behind that self-confident manner of yours? Could it mean that you’re as vulnerable as the rest of us, I wonder?”

“I don’t know what bad dreams signify, Dr. Freud, and stop looking at me in that smug way. See if I ever share another confidence with you.”

“I won’t tell a soul. I’m very trustworthy with confidences. Are there any others you’d like to disclose?” I scowled at him to discourage the line of conversation and asked about the factory instead.

“I told your new employees to show up next Monday for work. Will you be ready?” Drew took the hint and we spent the rest of the meal talking about the details of Cox’s grand opening.

After supper I stood. “This was a treat, Drew. Thank you. I feel much better, but I must get home. I’ll deliver Henrietta and Betsy and Mrs. McElhanie next Monday. After that, may I stop by Cox’s once in a while if I promise not to be a nuisance?”

“You may come by anytime, even if you are a nuisance,” Drew answered generously, making me laugh. He held my jacket and as I slipped my arms into it, his hands rested briefly and lightly on my shoulders. “Really, Johanna, come by anytime. I find I like the way I feel when I’m with you.” I turned around quickly to try to catch his expression, which looked more serious than he’d been all evening.

“Scoldings and all?” The brief, intimate moment passed, and he walked with me to the front door.

“Scoldings aside,” he corrected. He opened the front door where Fritz waited at the foot of the walk with the Gallagher luxury motorcar. “You’re not going to protest the ride, are you, and tell me you think you should take the train?”

I shook my head. “I’m too tired to protest anything and the ride is both welcome and appreciated. Good luck with the opening, Drew.”

“Thanks, Johanna. I have a feeling Cox’s will be a raging success. Good night.”

Once home, I checked in with Crea and then shared my day’s activities with Grandmother, who had taken to waiting for our evening time together before drifting off to sleep. Despite the prophesied dreams, which started soon after—the desperate women calling to me from their barren island followed by my frantic, ineffectual search for lifeboats—that first night I slept peacefully uninterrupted.

When I awoke the next morning, rested and inexplicably happy, my first unrestrained thoughts connected my unusually happy mood back to the evening with Drew Gallagher. That initial, early morning realization had a startling and somehow annoying truth in it somewhere that I chose not to explore. Drew Gallagher already threatened to occupy more of my time than was acceptable, and I wasn’t about to give him any help in doing so.

O summer day beside the joyous sea!

O summer day so wonderful and white,

So full of gladness and so full of pain!

Forever and forever shalt thou be

To some the gravestone of a dead delight,

To some the landmark of a new domain.

Chapter Nine

Life on Hill Street soon settled into a comfortable routine and July passed uneventfully. I arranged for Henrietta, Betsy, and babies to move into their new apartment home and personally accompanied Mrs. McElhanie to her small rooms on the second floor of Cox’s, where she would reside just outside the nursery. She was embarrassingly grateful and would not stop thanking me until I told her she should direct her gratitude to Drew Gallagher.

“He’s the one who spent his money on the building, set up the factory, and refurbished and furnished the apartments. All I did was recommend you to watch the children, and there may come a time you won’t thank me for that, Mrs. McElhanie. I don’t have that much experience with little ones, but I know they can tire a person out without much effort. You’ll let me know if it’s too much for you, won’t you?”

The old woman straightened her shoulders. “I raised five babies of my own, Johanna, though where they’ve got to now, I couldn’t tell you. I’m looking forward to being useful again. Besides,” she winked, “their mothers are right downstairs so I’ll know where to find help if I need it.”

I went back a second time a week later to see all the machines up and running but didn’t run into Drew on either visit, a disappointment, but I wasn’t about to admit that to anyone.

Crea’s presence in the house was a godsend. Grandmother listened to her and followed her instructions better than she ever would have with me, and when I came home one late afternoon at the end of July and found Crea sipping tea in the kitchen as Mayville prepared supper, I knew another battle was won.

“This is a cozy scene,” I observed, coming in and plopping into a chair at the old butcher block kitchen table. An aproned May stepped away from the stove long enough to set a teacup in front of me. Despite the heat wave that had recently hit the city, the kitchen with its brick walls and northern exposure remained relatively cool.

“I should get back upstairs,” Crea stated guiltily and moved to rise.

May finished pouring my tea and rested a hand on Crea’s shoulder. “There’s no need for you to go rushing off. Mrs. McIntyre was sound asleep fifteen minutes ago when I checked, and Johanna won’t hold it against you if you rest a minute.” To me, May added, “Miss Crea spent all morning cleaning every inch of your grandmother’s room, besides giving her a cool bath, reading her the newspaper, and assisting her with her exercises. There’s no call for her to jump up like a frightened rabbit just because you’re home.” May turned back to the stove so that I was forced to respond to her back.

“Of course, I won’t hold it against Crea,” adding indignantly, “And I didn’t deserve that scolding, Mayville. I’m the one who invited Crea to join us and against the protests of certain people in this house as I recall.” Mayville made a tsk-ing sound but didn’t turn around.

I turned to Crea and mouthed the words Miss Crea to her with a surprised expression. Obviously there’d been a change in opinion over the past weeks of which I had been unaware.

Smiling, Crea shrugged and rose. “I’m sure Johanna doesn’t care one little bit that I’ve stepped away, but I’m not comfortable being gone too long, May.”

After she left, May volunteered grudgingly, “I know I was against Crea staying here, her being Irish and all, but she’s hard-working and kind to your grandmother. Mrs. McIntyre is in good hands when Crea’s with her. She’s got a way about her that makes a person feel at ease. And she’s no shirker, I’ll say that for her.” High praise indeed from Mayville.

I finished my tea before responding, “I won’t say I told you so, May, but only because I’ve been raised right.” At Mayville’s snort, I rose to give her an affectionate pat on the arm. “You know that’s true. Anyway, I’m glad you’re learning to like and trust Crea as much as I do.”

Grandmother still slept when I looked in on her. “What did the doctor have to say, Crea?” I asked.

Crea, who sat next to the bed with a book open on her lap, answered, “Not much, Johanna, only that we should keep moving her right arm and leg and continue to encourage her to speak.”

“Do you see any progress?”

“I’m careful not to exaggerate and offer false hope, Johanna, but yes, I do. This morning I wrapped her fingers around her coffee cup and for a moment she was able to hold onto it without my help. And when I read her an editorial about corruption in city government, she gave me a look and said, ‘No surprise there,’ the words very clear, followed by a grin that didn’t seem lopsided at all. I think at that moment she was the woman she had been before the attack.”

I sat down and looked at Crea across the sleeping figure in the bed, suddenly overwhelmed with hope, my eyes pooling with tears.

“I hope you’re right, Crea. I’ll love her any way she is, but I want that woman back, more for her sake than mine.” I surreptitiously brushed a tear away with a forefinger, sniffed, and changed the subject. “Congratulations on getting past May’s defenses, by the way. I’m impressed. How did you manage that in such a short time? I thought it would be half a year at least.”

“The first week she gave me the cold shoulder at every opportunity, and I knew I couldn’t live like that. So we had a serious discussion and decided we could coexist as adult women and that was that.”

“I think there was more to it than you’re telling me.” When Crea didn’t answer, I commented in mock accusation, “This house suddenly seems full of secrets,” and was surprised to see a delicate color creep up Crea’s cheeks. I thought I had somehow made her feel uncomfortable and added, “I really am glad you’re here, Crea. You’ve managed to fit in so well that it seems as though you’ve been with us much longer than five weeks. It took months for May to accept my presence in the house when I first arrived. Obviously, you have a gift for getting along with people that I would do well to copy. ”

“You’re the one with gifts, Johanna. You’ve traveled the world, studied in England, and graduated from two well-known schools. Everyone who meets you talks about how intelligent and how fearless you are. I’ve never been outside the city limits of Chicago. My first automobile ride happened just a few weeks ago with Levi and I’ve never been on any kind of boat. And you know about my education. There’s nothing about me to strike admiration.” Her tone was wistful, not bitter.

“I was given a number of advantages, including family and education, that I didn’t earn or deserve. If I had your start in life, I know I wouldn’t be nearly as self-assured and persistent as you.” Then, standing and stretching, I said, “Everyone’s got strengths and weaknesses, Crea. That’s what I think. The trick is to figure out which is which, build on the former and overcome the latter.”

“Easy for you to say.” A brusque retort but said with a smile.

“Easier for me to say than do, that’s for sure,” I agreed, “but I’ll never stop trying to be better at what I do and how I act.” After a purposeful pause, I said with a grin, “Of course, I have so much room for improvement that I’ll be working at it ‘til the day I die.” I heard a low laugh from Crea as I left the room.

An August heat wave intensified July’s stifling temperatures and oppressive humidity. I put on my lightest dress and took the train to Cox’s, concerned about the effects of the heat on the women in the factory and the children on the second floor. The building was certainly hot, but the windows Drew had installed allowed a cross current of air to move continually through the work area so that while not ideal, the temperature was bearable. I found Betsy at one of the sewing machines and after lunch pulled her away into the alley for a quick chat.

Betsy said the work was all right, not hard but boring sometimes, and the apartment she shared with Henrietta, although hot right then, was “just about perfect.”

“There’s more room than either of us ever had before, Johanna, and we’ve done it up real nice. With Mrs. McElhanie and the nursery for the babies, both Etta and me can work straight off. Now that we’re both earning money, we can put some away in the bank, in case of an emergency or for Christmas presents. We even thought maybe we’d take a trip somewhere. Mr. Gallagher made Ethel Poltis the floor supervisor. ‘I’m putting a woman in charge to make sure things get done right,’ he said. All the girls think Mr. Gallagher is just about the handsomest man they’ve ever seen and he seems real nice. If he wasn’t your friend, I believe I might try to catch his eye.”

“Mr. Gallagher has done a good deed setting up this factory, Betsy, but I’d be careful around him. I’m guessing he has a weakness for a pretty girl.”

“You’d better listen to Miss Swan, Betsy. She’s the moral voice of caution we all need to hear.” Drew Gallagher, looking unfairly cool in a fawn beige suit that had neither wrinkle nor smudge, walked up behind us in the alley.

“We don’t mind listening to Johanna, Mr. Gallagher. She never acts any better than anybody else even though she’s probably smarter than all of us put together. Johanna hasn’t steered any of us wrong, and she always seems to have the answers we’re looking for.” Betsy, not exactly sure if I’d been disparaged, sprang to my defense just in case.

Drew held up both hands. “I didn’t mean to insult her, Betsy.” The whistle blew, ending lunch.

“Well, all right then,” Betsy replied agreeably and with a brief wave went back inside to her place at the sewing machine.

“You really don’t have to warn these girls away from me, Johanna. My tastes run to older, more sophisticated, and less vulnerable women.” I decided not to acknowledge that remark, which he made lightly but with an undertone of annoyance I didn’t miss.

Instead I commented, “I had to come down to see how everyone was tolerating the heat. I thought it might be unbearable inside, but while it’s not exactly comfortable, it’s livable. Your windows catch a breeze just right.”

“Your friend Mr. Goldwyn’s windows,” Drew corrected. We walked along the alley toward the street, all the sounds and smells of a large industrial city around us, the heat trapped between the buildings and bouncing off the pavement. We reached the front of Cox’s and stood under the awning for shade.

“I didn’t know Allen had a hand in any of this.”

“Douglas respected his architectural firm, and I considered it more than coincidence that Goldwyn was a friend of yours. If it hadn’t been for you, I doubt I’d have become so involved in this project, so not using Allen Goldwyn’s expertise would have been flying in the face of fate. He’s a creative man with true talent.” The compliment was generous and ungrudging.

“Yes,” I agreed warmly, “Allen sees color, shape, and structure in everything, and he has an eye for perfection of form. He’s happiest when he’s building things.” Then, changing the subject, I asked, “Are you content with the results of the Cox Experiment, Drew? You won’t lose money on the arrangement, will you?”

“I’ve surprised myself because I enjoy commerce, Johanna, and I find I possess a previously unrecognized flair for business. It must be in the Gallagher blood, after all. So no, I won’t lose any money on Cox’s. There’s always a market for ladies’ undergarments and the ones we manufacture are fashionable and growing in demand. I expect I’ll eventually make a comfortable profit. If I don’t, I won’t blame you, though, so don’t worry that I’ll send you a bill. I wouldn’t want you to feel obligated to spend your life savings on failed lingerie.”

His patronizing, amused tone made me retort, “My life savings, as you call it, will be enough to cover several experiments, so don’t hesitate to call me to account. I’m willing and able to pay all my debts in full.”

“Are you sure?”

To squelch the laughter I still detected in his voice I added haughtily, “You’ll have to wait eighteen months, however, because I don’t come into my share of the McIntyre fortune until I’m twenty-five.”

“A real fortune, Johanna? I had no idea.”

“It’s from my Grandfather McIntyre’s side of the family and appears substantial. Mother shared the original bequest with Uncle Hal and now Mother’s share is mine. I expect I’ll be rich in a few years.”

More seriously than I expected, Drew told me, “Being rich may not be what you expect. I’ll deny I said this but the well-intentioned use of money is a lot more difficult and time-consuming than I ever imagined.”

I patted his arm. “Thank you for your counsel, but I already know that and have started plans for a trust to dispense the funds on worthy purposes.”

“Be careful. One handsome fortune hunter could change your plans.” The glint in his eyes made me wonder if he considered trying out for the role.

“If you’re implying yourself, Drew, you can’t be a fortune hunter. You already have a fortune.”

“Maybe I’ll have run through mine by the time you come into yours.”

Through the open front door of Cox’s, I could hear the steady hum of sewing machines, see boxes stacked just inside waiting for pickup.

“I doubt it. Whether you want it or not, I’m afraid you’re destined for success.” The idea seemed to surprise him and as he considered its implications, I added, “I need to go home, but I’m glad the experiment is working out, Drew. I wouldn’t want you to regret the undertaking.”

Without acknowledging my words, Drew volunteered, “Let Fritz run you home, Johanna. The automobile will be cooler than the train.”

“That’s true, but it’s not saying much. The only place in the city of Chicago I have any interest in right now is the lakeshore. Unfortunately, half the population of the city has the same idea. You couldn’t figure out a way to clear a beach for me, could you?”

“As a matter of fact,” he responded thoughtfully, “I think I could. How does a small excursion on a yacht sound?”

“Don’t tell me you have yacht!” Drew looked sheepish at the awe and amazement in my tone.

“It’s not my fault, Johanna. I inherited it along with the house, the motorcar, and the business. It’s nothing I would ever have bought for myself and I’ll probably sell it, but until that happens, why shouldn’t I take it out? What do you say? Or won’t that missionary streak allow you to play a little hooky from the responsibilities you’ve piled on yourself?” He gave that lop-sided, engaging grin I found more attractive each time he flashed it. Standing on a hot city pavement with beads of perspiration forming on my forehead gave his proposal an immediate and legitimate appeal I could not resist.