Nan's Journey (10 page)

“Dear me! Yes, I suppose I might be able to arrange a meeting between you and Mrs. Malone. You will take tea with us when it can be arranged at my home. I will send word to you on the day and time. You do know where my house is?”

“Of course
,
” Mary lied
.
“Thank you for your assistance in this matter.” Mary managed a friendly smile as she made her purchase of chicken feed. She would have to go to the mercantile across the street for yard goods so that Mrs. Brown wouldn’t know that the dress she wore for tea was stitched especially for the occasion.
Occasion? Yes, of course it was an occasion.
She felt like a debutante at a coming out party. Maybe this would be the key to acceptance that she had longed for all her life.

Mary worked long into the night on the dress. She toiled over every stitch trying to make it perfect. One good quality Mary had was determination, and she was determined to make a good impression. The chicken feed dress would have to wait until next week.

Morning blazed into her room and she hopped out of bed chiding herself for sleeping so late.
She hurried through the chores, promising
herself that she would do a much better job the next time.

She had to add some culture to her vocabulary. Daily she had studied the one book that had escaped the shipment to Boston. It was a rare novel that had belonged to Nancy.

Mary had at first thought that the language was quite uppity, but then realized that people in social circles probably spoke like that. How would she learn to speak like this? She decided to just use a few of the phrases that struck her as the most cultured. She noticed that people said “children” instead of “kids
”
or
“
youngins” and spoke in a quiet way.

She looked through the book to see if any references were made to teatime. Luckily, the mistress of the house had a good many callers and prepared tea quite regularly. The book spoke of the little cakes eaten with the pinky finger extended. Mary got the last piece of cornbread from the pan. It was cold and hard but edible even if it was left over from the night before. She also read about the large linen napkins that were to be draped over the lap.

“Goodness sakes, it is plum stupid to put the napkin there, a whole lot of food could end up down the front of your dress that way. I wish they put the napkin into the neck of their dress like normal folk!” So with a dry dishcloth and her cold cornbread and hot coffee, Mary practiced the art of being a lady taking tea with the social elite.

After her hours of practice she began the chore of cleaning up the dishes. As she dried the few things that she had washed, she noticed her hands. My, but they were red and callused. She remembered that her mother had rubbed horse medicine over her hands and elbows to soften them up.

Being a lady was such a bother, but Mrs. Malone might not know the hard work a lone woman had to do on a farm. When she got the message that she was to come to Mrs. Brown’s house, she would ask the messenger where the house was located and then have to take a bath. That would be a lot of work too. Was it all worth it?

Mary heard the clock on the mantle chime and realized that she was quite behind on her evening chores. She would do without supper tonight. She was too anxious to eat anyway.

*****

After the meeting with Mrs. Malone, Mary kept a busy pace in the social circles of the large church in the center of town. She became a regular at the Monday morning quilting circle and the Tuesday afternoon bridge club. Never mind that she had to rise earlier and go to
bed later to keep up the break-
neck pace. She had new friends and acquaintances.

If there was to be an event, Mary was called upon to participate in it. It didn’t seem to bother her that she was never called upon to chair any particular event. Goodness knows that she really didn’t know much about such matters, but she did have a stubborn will and desire to learn all the th
ings that she put her efforts into
.

It was after one of the mornings of quilting that she walked into the farmhouse to discover Mr. Dewey sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of lukewarm coffee. “Where have you been this fine morning, Mrs. Dewey?”

Mary didn’t like the smirk that lurked in the corner or his mouth. “Why, I have been at the church quilting bee, Mr. Dewey. How is your Mother?”

“She has passed away, my dearest Mary.” He was studying the appearance of Mary and couldn’t quite put a finger on the difference in her looks. “Did you take those two kids to town with you or what?”

“I sent them to Boston to live with their
g
reat
a
unt. She wrote and was quite firm about their living with her. She did say that the place is ours if we care to keep it seeing that we took care of them all these months.” The lie was so familiar to Mary by now that it s
eemed to be the truth to her
.

Sam studied her face and decided that she was speaking the truth. He wasn’t at all sure that he liked the idea of a woman making a decision like this without him, but it had to be easier to get by with two less mouths to feed. Of course they did earn their keep, at least Nan did
.
What
was Mary up to? She was all gussied up for something. “Have you made a good number of friends since I have been gone, dear wife?”

Mary didn’t like the tone that Sam was using. She would have to be very careful about how she answered him. “Not so many as you might think. I have managed to make a few acquaintances that may be beneficial to us. It may be to our advantage to have people speak well of us … say, if we were ever to want to get a loan for improvements or start a small enterprise.”

At that Sam gave a small chuckle. “Well said, good woman. You know how to butter your bread on both sides, now don’t you?”

“So, you are home for good now, or is there other business with your family’s estate that you have to finish up?”

“Got it all sewed up day before yesterday. I’m here to stay. Come to me, Mary. I might get the idea that you aren’t glad to see me.”

“Well Sam, you have been gone so long, I thought that you might have just decided to stay away. You didn’t write or try to get word to me. You haven’t been home for months.”

“Get over here!”

Mary gingerly walked over to Sam. She was almost afraid to look him in the eye. She didn’t know
exactly what kind of mood
he was
in. Things certainly were a lot less complicated when he was gone.

As Mary came across the room, Sam was struck with the subtle changes in her. Maybe he would wait a while before taking action, if any, on the news that she gave him today. She had a softer, more feminine look about her. He noticed that her eyes were a deep shade of blue, like the calico dress she wore. Her sunbonnet had slipped to expose her brown hair. It was different. It looked good and she smelled like vanilla. “Mary, I am very hungry and couldn’t find anything in the makings. I want dinner now.”

Mary thought better than to answer him with a strong retort. Actually, he had never been this kind to her. “How about some sourdough biscuits and gravy? I’ll fix a proper supper by sundown.”

“Sounds good to me.” Sam was amazed that she took his order so casually. Maybe having a wife at home to take care of him was better than memory served.

*****

Mary woke up before daybreak to the sound of Sam’s snoring. She was strangely glad to have him back and yes, even in her bed. There was a comfort in having a man around that defies description. He had held her close just a moment after the act of marriage. There was almost
tenderness
in it.

Mary could only hope that things wouldn’t deteriorate like they had before he left to see about his mother. He had the ability to be extremely cruel. He had made a comment about the fact that she was an old maid when he “rescued” her from spinsterhood. She had answered him back angrily and told him that she had another offer of marriage a few years back. When Sam found out that her intended had run off with her younger cousin who was established better financially, he laughed at her and mocked her because she obviously was still nursing a broken heart.

Mary
was
so angry that she slapped his face. He then punched her so hard that she lost her breath. That
was
the first time he
took
a hand to her. He had started calling her names and making her feel degraded.

Somehow, since his return she was in his good graces. She was going to have to watch her step and be sure to keep from upsetting him. She smiled when she thought of the conversation they had when he first got home and how she had matched wits with him. He seemed to like that.

She would try to be interesting to him. Maybe she would be fortunate enough to have a child. No one would ever call her a spinster again. She turned toward Sam and fell back to sleep watching him as he snored.

In two short hours Mary awoke for the day. She studied her face in the glass as she brushed her long brown hair. There were plenty of women who were much better looking than she was, but there were many more that were not.

She decided that she fit somewhere in the middle. The excitement of Sam’s being home again had brought some color into her cheeks and the daily administration of cow medicine and salve to her hands and face had softened the ruddy completion.

She had not realized that taking pains on her appearance gave her a more pleasing countenance and that practicing her manners, choice of words,
and voice inflection were
making
a
notable
difference in her overall feminine appeal.

She donned the same new blue calico print dress that she wore upon Sam’s homecoming. She usually wore one of her old dresses when she was at home, but somehow she felt more confident in her new dress. Her eyes sparkled just a little as she started frying eggs and sausage in the pan.

She placed some biscuits into the oven just as Sam made his way to the table and pulled his chair out to sit down. She brought him a cup and poured the fragrant coffee into it. She put the sugar bowl on the table with his teaspoon. “Sam, I remember that you like a little sugar in your coffee and no cream. Is that still to your liking?”

Sam paused his spoon in mid flight to the sugar bowl and wondered just who this woman was that was living in his house. She certainly didn’t sound like the Mary Dewey that he had left some seven months ago. The old Mary put a meal on as if she were slopping hogs or something. “Yep, that’ll do.” He had to be careful or she would get the upper hand on him. A smile slipped to his lips before he could squelch it.
Man, it was good to be married again.
He had forgotten how much enjoyment a man could acquire in the arms of a wife. He mustn’t let it go to his head or she would be able to wrap him around her little finger.

One thing about Mary, she was a healthy woman with no recollection of a wonderful dead husband. She ought to be able to give him the son that he wanted. The “namesake” was necessary for him to obtain his inheritance from his father.

Clarence Dewey had specifically stated in his will that not one penny would be left to Sam until a son was born to him and named Clarence Samuel Dewey III. It didn’t hurt that the tide had turned and she appeared to be more agreeable and even a sight better to look at than she had been.

He would keep her in line though. A well-landed punch could do the trick. He would have to not hit her in the stomach until after the boy child had been born and now that she was into the society… well, there were other ways to keep control of a sassy wife.

Mary saw the smile cross his face and blushed to think of what probably put it there. She smiled too.

She was very glad that she still had all of her teeth and could smile a full, happy smile.
“It is true, you do get a lot more flies with honey that with vinegar! We’ll see how far this ‘killing with kindness’ will take me.’”
Mary thought as she put the eggs and sausage onto their plates.

This was a sight better than the complaining and grunting mornings of the past. Maybe Sam was like the townspeople. The smile reappeared.
People are such fools, you don’t even have to mean it, just act like you like them and they fall for it every time!
The memory of the last beating Sam gave her was enough to keep this playacting going indefinitely.

Maybe she could learn to love him. She had sworn never to love another man again after Lester had run off with Cousin Mildred, but she deserved happiness if she could latch onto some. She smelled the biscuits baking and knew that it was time to get them out before they were too brown or burned altogether for goodness sake! They were perfect. What luck! Sam would never believe this. After the satisfying breakfast, Sam made his way to the barn and began the work of a farmer while Mary cleaned the kitchen and was so thankful to only have to do “woman’s work.”

Today was washday, so she changed into her oldest dress and began heating the wash water on the old wood stove. She dug through Sam’s bedroll and found a wad of filthy clothes and long-handle underwear. She
rifled
through the pockets of his pants and got out his pocketknife and various other odds and ends that men always carried.