THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER (33 page)

Somehow she didn't feel like a Dewitt yet.

She paused with her hand on the doorknob, listening. He was apparently speaking
to Mr. Eagleton, receiving instructions about what to do during his employer's absence. He
nodded in response to her small wave, then turned back to the telephone to say, "Yes, sir,
I'll take care of that too."

Lulu pulled the door closed behind her. It was scarcely eleven. What was she to do
with herself until four?

* * * *

Tony was deep in the correspondence Eagleton had said had to go in the mail
today when the door opened. Why the man couldn't have asked for this yesterday, he had
no idea. Getting it all done in time would be a near thing. Eagleton wanted it to be
typewritten, but Tony had convinced him of the impossibility of doing so. It would be a
long time before he could type as rapidly as he could write. Or as accurately.

He looked up. "May I help you?" he asked the roughly dressed fellow.

"I'm lookin' for a Mr. Dewitt. Boss says he works here."

"I'm Dewitt. What can I do for you?"

"Well, sir, I got me a wagonload of furniture down at the store and no place to put
it. I took it on out to the house I was give a map to, but there warn't nobody to home. Mr.
White, he says you're to tell me what you want done with it." He offered a flimsy, smudged
sheet of yellow paper. Tony took it and tried to make out what it said. It was obviously a
carbon copy of a purchase contract, but the quality was so poor he could only make out a
letter here and there.

The signature at the bottom was clear, however.
L.M. King for T. Dewitt.
He'd know that round, loopy hand anywhere. Dimly he remembered telling Lulu to go
ahead and get them some furniture. He sure hoped she hadn't gone overboard with her
purchases.

"I can't read this," he said, trying to figure out what the total cost was, "and my
wife didn't give me a list of what she'd ordered. What all are you delivering?"

The fellow scratched his head. "There's a parlor set, and a bookcase. A big
wardrobe, the kind that holds the ladies' fancy gowns-- and a couple o' crates. I don't know
what all's in 'em. I don't pack. I just deliver. Oh, yeah, there's a desk there, too."

Tony looked again at the total just above Lulu's signature. He sure hoped that was
a decimal point after the third number. The last digits disappeared under a dark blue
smudge.

Rapidly he thought about what to do. They needed furniture. Hell, he needed it,
even if Lulu refused to live with him. He was sick of living hand to mouth. "If I give you a
key, can you just put it all in the house? I can't get away and Mrs. Dewitt
is...unavailable."

"Sure. There'll be an extra charge for another trip out there, though. Two
dollars."

Certain he was being overcharged, Tony dug into his pocketbook. "Here," he said,
handing the fellow a quarter-eagle. "Just put it all in the parlor. I'll...we'll arrange it how we
want it later."

The fellow left, with a slam of the door. Tony sank into Eagleton's soft chair and
buried his face in his hands. What was he going to do with a house full of furniture and no
wife?

No longer able to fight the awful, sinking feeling that had sat in his middle ever
since last night, he finally admitted what it meant.

He was scared.

Stationery,
Fancy Goods,
Periodicals,
Newspapers
--AND--
WALL PAPERS!
PISTOLS, CARTRIDGES, AND A FULL LINE OF AMMUNITION
H.Z. BURKHART & C0.,
HAILEY, IDAHO
PRIZE FOR THE LARGEST BABY

Wood River Times
- Regular Advertisement

~~~

Lulu briefly considered going to Tony's house so she could get some writing done.
She had to occupy her mind for more than five hours, until her appointment with him--an
appointment with her own husband! Her mouth tightened. What a sorry mess they had
made of their marriage, and it not yet a week old.

No, she wouldn't go to the house. Nor would she return to Mrs. Graham's, for the
woman's chattering would allow her no peace. After a few moments' thought, she went to
Burkhart's and purchased a ream of writing paper and a dozen pencils. Thence to the
Nevada Hotel, where she obtained permission to use one of the tables in the lobby. With
her back to the room, she went to work.

The article all but wrote itself. She wasn't certain where she would submit it,
because it was bound to be controversial. Probably one of the journals that supported
suffrage, although most of them paid very little, especially for opinion pieces. By the time
the watch pinned to her breast told her it was time to return to Tony's office, she had
written fifteen pages of argument for and against a married woman's retaining her maiden
name.

She had convinced herself of neither alternative.

After stacking the closely-written pages in order, she gathered the discarded sheets
into a second stack. It was her habit to make notes to herself on the unused backs, a habit
learned when she had lived on a shoestring in the early days after college. She felt good
about the article, and had no doubt it would speak to many women facing the same
dilemma.

The clock behind Mr. Eagleton's empty desk was just striking four when she
opened the door. Would Tony see her promptness as eagerness? Was she undermining her
own case by arriving on the dot of four?
Does it matter? We must settle our differences
once and for all, or live in misery the rest of our lives.

One point she had made in her article was that a man and woman bound in
matrimony were morally and ethically obligated to work toward common goals, an
obligation transcending the mere social convention that said a wife took her husband's
name. In developing her thesis, she had realized both she and Tony had given both pride
and ambition far too much power over their relationship. The issue before them was not
who was right and who was wrong, who was to blame for their situation, or how marriage
would affect her dedication to the cause of suffrage. They had made a contract to work
toward a common goal, and must now live up to its terms.

"Tony?" she called, when no one came forth. "Are you here?"

"In my office," he called.

She started toward the hall entrance, then turned back. Although there was no key
in the lock of the entry door, there was one hanging on a nail just beside the door. She used
it, determined they would have their discussion without interruption.

The telephone on the wall caught her eye.
Bother! I suppose there is no way to
turn that contraption off.
She'd just have to hope no one rang the office while she was
here.

Tony was at his drafting table, sleeves rolled up, an eyeshade casting the upper
half of his face into shadow. "You're prompt," was all he said.

She set the box of papers on the corner of his small, cluttered desk. "We have
much to discuss," she replied, as she removed her coat and hat. "May I sit?"

There were two chairs in the room, a scarred one looking as if it had been
discarded from someone's kitchen, and a nearly-new swivel chair with a leather padded
seat. She took the latter at his rather grudging gesture.

"Your furniture was delivered this afternoon," he said, not looking directly at her.
"How much did it cost?"

"Oh, dear, I forgot all about it. I
am
sorry." Feeling at a disadvantage now,
she said, "You
did
say I could..."

"We needed furniture. I just hope you didn't spend more than I could afford. I
couldn't read the total on the bill, and I haven't had time to get over to pay it."

"I was quite frugal, I assure you. The total was a bit more than I had set as my
limit because I decided to get a wardrobe large enough to hold all of our clothing. There's
no sense in having two--"

"Lulu, how much did you spend?"

"One hundred seventy-three dollars and fifty cents," she said, and waited for the
explosion. She really hadn't needed to buy those pictures. Or she could have purchased
them from her own funds.

"We can afford that. How much did you say you'd pay Mr. Lee and his son?"

"Five dollars a week. Each. But--"

"I'll take care of them, too. But if you want a maid, you'll have to pay her." He
shrugged, still not meeting her eyes. "Unless she can help with the baby."

"I have no idea if Xi Xin knows anything at all about infants," Lulu admitted. "I
suppose I will need help then. At least for a few weeks." She fidgeted with the fringe on
her jacket, vastly uncomfortable. "Tony, I shouldn't have hired the Lees without discussing
it with you. I realize that now."

At last he turned to face her. "And I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. You
caught me by surprise. And you hit me where it hurt."

Lulu waited, while he obviously sought the right words.

"I've managed to avoid taking sides on this anti-Chinese movement so far, and had
hoped to go on doing so," he said slowly. "I felt I owed it to Eagleton, to stay on until he
gets the telephone business running smoothly. He gave me a chance, when I thought I'd
never work as an engineer again."

"An engineer? I would have described your job as handyman, from what I've
seen."

"That too," he said, with a hint of smile in his tone. "I admit I've had to turn my
hand to all sorts of work since I came here. But the point is, he let me prove I wasn't a
failure, wasn't incompetent. When I went to the conference in Denver, everyone accepted
me as one of them. They didn't care about what I'd done before. It was what I've done here
that mattered. I'll be able to find work pretty much anywhere there are telephones. Which
means anywhere at all, Lulu." He smiled widely. "Telephones are the future, Lulu, and I've
got a piece of it."

"That's wonderful, Tony," she told him, forcing herself to sound enthusiastic. "I'm
happy for you." How ironic, she thought, that his future was bright with promise again,
while hers had just gone into limbo.

"The future is what I came here to discuss with you," she said after a moment's
pause to remind herself of her decision. "
Our
future."

He sobered instantly. "Yes, we can't go on the way we've been, can we? We...I
rushed into this without thinking. I'm sorry, Lulu. I should have given you the option of
saying no. We could have worked something out."

"You were right to insist we marry. No child should have to live with the handicap
of bastardy." Her hands went to her belly. "I want this child to have the very best life she
can, without giving her a start she might never overcome. I will do whatever it takes to
ensure her wellbeing."

He looked at her long and hard. "That's a different tune than you were singing a
few days ago. What changed your mind?"

"I felt her move. Before that she had been an... an abstract concept. An
inconvenience, not a person. But when I realized she was alive within me, she became
real." Just then she felt the now-familiar stirring. "Here. She's moving now. Feel." She took
his hand and guided it into place. "There. Can you feel her?"

"No, I...Great God! I did. I felt him move!" He knelt before her and spread both
his hands across her belly. A look of wonderment came across his face.

For as long as the babe moved, they sat in silence, both caught up in the marvel of
the life they had created together. When the tiny movements finally ceased, neither stirred
for a moment. Then he raised his head and smiled at her. "This sort of makes everything
else seem unimportant, doesn't it?"

"Everything but making sure she is born into a house filled with love and mutual
respect," Lulu agreed. "I'll try if you will." They had created a new life together, and in
doing so, had, unaware at the time, taken a step into an unknown future. What it held was
up to them. She knew with a terrifying certainty that the decisions they made now, this
afternoon, would form the basis for the rest of their lives.

"Oh, God, Lulu. Yes!" He gathered her into his arms, pulling her to her knees.
Gently, carefully, he lifted her hand, pressed his lips into her palm. "I love you so much,"
he said hoarsely, his words muffled by her hand.

A yearning so strong it weakened her made Lulu collapse against him. He caught
her in his strong arms and held her close. His mouth was against her ear and he spoke soft
words of longing, of love. Of desire, hot and urgent.

Yet Tony hesitated, not willing to force her again into withdrawal. "Be sure, Lulu.
Because if I don't stop now, I won't be able to."

She was soft in his arms. Pliant and willing. "I am sure, Tony. As sure as I can
be."

Perhaps it was because he had loved her so long, knew her so well, that all sense
of urgency was gone. They had all night.

No, they had forever.

Tony held her close, burying his face in her hair, her wondrous, curly hair that
always smelled faintly of some exotic flower. "I don't want to take you here, on the floor,"
He whispered. "I can wait."

Her arms tightened around him. "Now, Tony. I don't want to wait." She slid from
his arms until she lay on the floor. When she reached for him, he went to her, gladly, only
hesitating when his bare hand felt how cold the hard wood was.

"There's a cot..."

"The floor's not so hard..."

"Are you cold?"

"Not with you for a blanket."

"I've never stopped loving you."

"I tried to put you out of my mind, but no one else seemed as
right
."

"That feels good. Do it again."

"Like this?"

"Great God, yes."

They learned each other's bodies in a way they had not before, tasted new flavors,
sampled new sensations. When at last they joined, it was as if for the first time. The
desperate urgency that had marked their first coming together was transmuted into a
smoldering hunger he knew could never be entirely satisfied, only eased for a while, until
it was reborn. Her small gasp, as she neared completion, pushed him closer to his own
edge. He drove into her, burying himself in her incredible honeyed heat, feeling her spasms
until his own carried him beyond
now
into a place where they could only cling
together in satiated exhaustion.