THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER (22 page)

"I don't think you broke it," he said, gingerly probing. His spectacles sat askew, so
he pulled them off. One lens was cracked and the earpieces were both bent. "You did these,
though." He tossed them on the table beside him. "Yes, damn it, Soomey knows I don't
make an issue of my race, but I've never denied it either."

He probed at his nose again. It was going to be swollen tomorrow. "I'll probably
have a black eye, too."

"You poor thing. And will you tell your friends it was a
girl
who hit
you?" Her tone was sarcastic, biting. Slamming the flat of her hand onto the desktop, she
said, "Oh, why don't you just go? I'm tired." Her voice rose into a wail.

Sure now he wasn't going to bleed all over her, Tony rose and went to embrace her.
Although she resisted, he held her despite her feeble struggle. "Lulu, let's go back to the
beginning. You're going to have a baby? That
is
what you said, isn't it?"

Her head moved against his chest. "Uh-huh." It was the barest whisper of
sound.

Conscious of a sense of terrible loss, he said, "I take it you're not happy about the
situation?"

Her head moved from side to side.

He'd loved her when she'd been a skinny little girl with enormous gray eyes and a
mass of curls the color of old bronze. She'd grown into a slim young woman, strong with
conviction and enthusiasm, firm in her belief she could make a difference, could make the
world a better place. And now she was a beautiful crusader, compelling and persuasive. He
still loved her, even though she'd almost killed him with her betrayal. "Lulu, talk to me.
Tell me what I can do to help."

He had been her first lover, something that had thrilled him and had honored him.
In a way he almost wished he hadn't. For she'd gone from him to...to whom? Some other
man who must have meant more to her than Tony Dewitt, Chinaman.

"Who?" he demanded, not wanting to know. "Who's the father?" Was there any
chance the bastard would marry her? He hoped not. She was his. She always had
been.

She spoke against his chest, a single, not quite unintelligible word.

"What'd you say?" Disbelief made him certain he'd heard wrong.

"You are." She pushed away from him. "Who else? Do you think I'd let any other
man touch me?" Turning her back, she said, "It was a mistake, telling you. But I
promised... I'm sorry. Just go away, will you?"

"Go away?" The words came out in a croak, as his voice all but failed him.
"Go away
?"

"I'll be moving back to Boise as soon as I can pack everything. Regina...I can stay
with her until it's born. After that..." Her shoulders rose and fell in a slow shrug.

He didn't think he'd ever seen anything so lacking in hope. "Lulu..." Then he
stopped. His mind was spinning with the realization that he was going to be a father. That
she and he together had started a baby.
Oh, God, now she'll have to marry
me...

And with that thought came the realization that if she'd intended to marry him, she
would have told him long since. Mentally he counted back.
Great God! It's been five
months!
"How long have you known?"

Without turning around, she said, "I was pretty sure at Christmas. When I talked to
Katie, she confirmed my suspicions."

Again a fearsome surge of rage rose in him. "You knew...and you didn't say a
word?"

"It was none of your concern. I'm the one who's pregnant, and I'm the one to
decide what to do about it."

The implication of her words slowly penetrated. "You would have..."

"No, I wouldn't have done anything stupid or dangerous," she said, as if
reproaching him for even suspecting such a thing. "I had to decide what to
do...afterward."

Holding himself in tight control, Tony said, "And have you?"

"I thought I had. But--"

"You heartless bitch! You were going to give the baby away, weren't you? My
son! You'd have tossed him aside like so much unwanted trash."

"No, I--"

"Be silent! I don't want to hear any more! It's obvious you're not the person I used
to know." Now it was his turn to pace, as he examined and discarded possibilities. An
endless time later, he realized there was only one.

"We'll be married as soon as we can get a license. Start packing. I'll be here early
tomorrow with a wagon. There's more than enough room out at my place for all your
things."

"Are you crazy? I'm not going to marry you. I'm not going to marry anyone! I've
got a life of my own, and there's no room in it for a husband."

He looked at her, really looked, for the first time since he'd walked through her
front door. In Shoshone and on the train she'd always worn several layers for warmth, but
now, in her plain skirt and shirtwaist, the changes in her body showed. Her waist was
thick, her breasts so full that the delicate lace inserts in the shirtwaist seemed about to tear
away from the fabric. How had he missed seeing how...how
ripe
she
appeared.

Desperation made his voice hoarse when he said, "Lulu, I swear to God, if you
don't marry me, I'll ruin you. How much credibility will you have when word gets out that
you not only advocate free love, but you have a child born out of wedlock? Even though
the father was willing to marry you. Think about it. Every time you climb up onto a stage,
I'll be there to ask embarrassing questions. Every time you go to a city to speak, there will
be an article in the paper about brazen women who laugh at morality and decency."

He took three steps, putting him so close her breasts brushed his chest. "You've
got a choice. I'll be here tomorrow at seven for you to tell me what you've chosen."

Grabbing his coat, he left, wondering if she'd call his bluff.

* * * *

What is wrong with me? I never used to be this indecisive, this emotional. It's
as if being pregnant destroyed all my good sense.
She turned again, kicking at the
flannel sheet that had somehow wrapped around her legs. The heavy quilt, one Aunt Hattie
had pieced from worn-out wool britches and shirts the winter she was twelve, seemed to be
smothering her, so she flipped it back.

In seconds she was freezing. The bedroom, unheated and kept closed off from the
rest of her apartment, never was warm, but tonight it was like an icebox. She pulled the
quilt back up. And forced herself to lie still, did her best to relax.

After a while the indigestion that had been troubling her for days made itself
apparent. It was the strangest sensation, as if gas was moving through her gut, yet it felt at
once more substantial and less persistent than anything she'd felt before.

One more change in her body, due to her pregnancy. She hated the way she
seemed to be living inside a stranger's skin, a fat, bosomy, emotional stranger.
If you
want to dance, you have to pay the piper
, came her mother's voice in her mind.

And oh! Such a dance it had been. She had never realized how...how
overpowering and compelling the sexual act could be. There had come a point where
common sense and responsibility had been swept aside by her body's demands.

Obviously one had to impose self-control before that point. And she hadn't.

She could excuse herself by saying she hadn't realized how imperative passion
would be, but that was a weak apology for something she should never have allowed to
proceed so far.
Good grief, I was the one who started--

The indigestion struck again, this time like a fluttering just behind her belly button.
Strange...
Oh, my God!

She laid her hand over her rounded belly, felt the fluttering movement faintly against
her palm.
It's not indigestion. It's the baby!

And then it stopped. "Oh, no! Why did you stop? Are you all right?" She pressed
her hand against her abdomen, feeling around, seeking the small movement again.

Nothing. What if she had harmed it, poking at herself like that?

Lulu lay very still, almost afraid to breathe, both hands gently pressing against her
belly. At last, when she had almost drifted into exhausted sleep, she felt another flutter.
Oh, thank God! You're alive!

* * * *

She was still asleep when a knocking came at her door. For a moment, she
couldn't remember where she was, until she saw the familiar shape of her bedstead in the
dim light.

"Just a moment," she cried, knowing full well no one outside could hear her.
Feeling stiff and aching and centuries older than twenty-eight, she rolled out of bed and
slipped into her robe. Her slippers were nowhere to be found, so she crossed the icy floor
on bare feet.

The knocking continued.

"Will you stop that?" she muttered grumpily as she peered under the sofa, seeking
her slippers. "You're going to disturb Mrs. Graham."

Her next-door neighbor was usually up with the chickens, but still... "I'm
coming," she called, and this time the knocking ceased. Lulu found the slippers in the
corner behind her sewing basket. "I wonder how they got there." She hadn't used them
since she got home, so they must have wandered in her absence.

She peered through the sidelight. Sure enough, it was Tony. Jerking open the door,
she said, "You didn't have to rouse the whole neighborhood."

"Are you ready?" He pushed past her. "You're not even dressed yet!"

"I was sleeping," she said. "What time is it, anyhow?"

"Seven." He tossed his coat and hat onto the sofa. "I brought some boxes. Let's get
started."

"Started?" Not having had her morning tea, she felt as if her head was still stuffed
with cobwebs. "Are we going somewhere?"

"You are. Out to my place. I want to get as much of your stuff packed before ten
as I can. Eagleton should be in about then, and I'll need to talk to him, see about taking
some time off."

The morning fuzziness was gone, just like that. "Wait a minute! I haven't agreed to
anything yet. Go away, Tony. We'll talk this afternoon, after I've had time to do some
thinking."

Yes, she definitely had some thinking to do. From her first realization of her
condition, her pregnancy had been a disaster, a significant complication in a well-planned
life. She had about made up her mind to give the child up for adoption, sight unseen.

Motherhood had never been a role she'd seen herself playing. She wasn't like
Mamma, or Aunt Hattie, naturally maternal. She had never, as Katie had once admitted
doing, looked at someone's infant and immediately wanted one of her own to cuddle and
love.

She'd even thought a cat would be too much bother.

Until last night. Now the small life growing in her womb had become real, a part
of her she would protect and defend with her life, if need be.

But she still had no intention of getting married, not even to Tony.

"Lulu, I'm not going to argue with you. Either you pack up your stuff, or I'll do it
for you. And you won't like the results. I haven't much time."

"You've got all the time in the world, Tony Dewitt, because I'm not going
anywhere with you, not today, maybe not ever. So go on and string a telephone wire or
something, and let me decide what I want to do." As she spoke, she'd filled the tea kettle
and set it on the stove. Fortunately she had laid this morning's fire last night, so all she had
to do was set a match to it. "I refuse to do anything, even thinking, until I've had my
tea."

"I'll buy you tea when we go--"

She turned on him. "Listen to me, Tony. I am not going to go anywhere with you
until I've had time to decide what I want to do. I don't care if you are bigger than I am. I
can do considerable damage to you, if you try to force me. Now, I'll admit you might have
a right to know what decision I make regarding this child, but you do
not
have the
right to force me into a marriage that would be a total mistake.

"I give you my word that I'll think this through and whatever decision I come to
will be, in my opinion, the best for the child and for me. Once I've decided, I will tell you
before I do anything. Do you understand me?"

His stance did not change, and the hard expression on his face softened not one
whit. "I'll give you until noon. That's all."

She had the feeling he was trying to look deep inside her, to read her thoughts. She
hoped he could make better sense of them than she seemed to be doing.

"Just remember this, Lulu. If I don't like what you've decided, I'll fight you. The
child is mine, as much as yours, and I have an equal say in what happens to him."

"Her," she corrected. "The baby is a girl."

"How do you know?"

"I just do. Now go away."

To her great surprise, he went, without another word.

...if acceptable servant-girls can be secured for $5 per week, families will prefer to
employ them rather than Chinamen, whom they are compelled to pay at least $6 and
sometimes $8 per week. If a sufficient number of capable girls were here now, we have no
doubt that the last Chinaman would be discharged.

Wood River Times

~~~

Tony raised the shades as soon as he was inside, even though he'd sooner leave
them down and let the town think the office was closed today.
It's not as if I have
anything to do, unless something broke overnight. I'm an engineer, not a secretary.
He
went into his office to get the letters he'd spent most of yesterday afternoon writing. All
five of them.

A typewriting machine! What'll he come up with next?
He had to admit the
finished product was a lot easier to read than Eagleton's handwriting, but at what cost?
He'd wasted a dozen sheets of stationery for every finished letter. He could have turned out
every one of them in an hour, printing them in the precise hand he'd learned in his drafting
classes.

A folder was lying on top of the letters. His name was scrawled across it. His
employer often came in early and left him work to do. Eagleton liked to breakfast with
other businessmen, and sometimes didn't return to the office until nearly noon. "I get more
business done at the table than at the desk," he'd once told Tony. "Folks just naturally are
less apt to be suspicious when a man's feeding them."