Tenderness (11 page)

“You’re Jesse Louise,” she exclaimed. “My dear, I thought you would be older, plainer. I wasn’t expecting someone so young…
so pretty. It didn’t occur to me—” Her voice trailed. “Oh, dear, I’ve put my foot in it, haven’t I? I’m Louella Lindstrom.”
She held out her hand.

Good manners forced Jesse to take it. “How do you do?” Her voice was quiet and flat. “How long have you been here?”

“I came in on the train last Friday. Hollis, ah… Doctor Forbes said you had left that day to go up into the hills to care
for the sick. You’re tired, aren’t you? Would you like help in putting away your things?” There was an absence of real inquiry
in the woman’s voice, and Jesse suspected she was merely being polite.

“No, thank you. The key, please.” She held out her hand and the woman promptly returned the key.

She’s pretty in a pink and white way, Jesse thought as she emptied her medical bag—almost too pretty. Not one blond hair was
out of place. It was folded and pinned at the nape of her slender neck. Her face was very white and wrinkle-free although
Jesse guessed her age to be near that of her father. Her lips and cheeks were pink, her eyes large and cornflower blue. The
dress and apron she wore looked as if they had just come from the ironing board.

“Jes-se-eee!” As Todd’s voice reached Jesse, she heard his running steps coming down the hall. “You—’re h-h-home!”

Jesse crowded past Mrs. Lindstrom, who remained in the doorway, and hurried to meet her brother. They met in the hall. He
threw his arms about her waist and she hugged him to her.

“Yes, I’m home. How are you?”

“F-f-fine, I g-guess.”

Jesse ran her fingers through his dark hair. “You look fine. I’ve missed you.”

“I-I-I m-m-miss-ed you.”

“How did you know I was home?”

“I-I saw you p-p-pass the s-school.”

“You sly fox. You were looking out the window when you should have been looking at the blackboard.” Jesse kissed the top of
her brother’s head.

“Change your clothes, Todd. You have chores to do.” Mrs. Lindstrom spoke gently and placed her hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Jesse felt her brother stiffen and turned to look at the woman. She was smiling sweetly.

“What chores?” Jesse asked.

“His father insists that he keep the woodbox filled and that he do at least one other chore each evening. I’ve hung the hall
runners on the line. The rug beater is on the back porch. When you finish, I want you to go to the creamery for a pail of
buttermilk. Hurry along, dear. Dinner is served at six o’clock sharp.”

There was something so quiet and implacable about Mrs. Lindstrom’s manner that it chilled Jesse’s heart like the touch of
cold fingers. The woman’s words echoed in her mind.
Dinner at six o’clock sharp.
They had always had
supper
in the evening and it was never at six o’clock sharp.

Todd was looking at her, his eyes pleading.

“The woodbox has always been one of your chores, honey. Fill it and go get the milk. I’ll beat the rugs—”

“Oh, I don’t think the doctor—”

“I’ll speak to Papa, Mrs. Lindstrom. Todd needs a little time for himself before
supper.”

“Very well. I was merely passing along his father’s instructions.”

Todd was looking at his toes, his cap in his hands. Jesse gave him a gentle push toward the stairs. He didn’t move until the
new housekeeper had disappeared into the dining room.

“I-I-I don’t l-l-like h-her.”

Jesse put her lips to his ear. “I don’t think I do either, but let’s go along with it until I can talk to Papa.”

A grin split Todd’s face and he raced up the stairs.

Jesse looked around the house as if seeing it for the first time. It fairly shone. Chairs had been arranged in groups for
conversation. The windows sparkled and freshly washed and stretched lace panels hung to the floor. Starched doilies covered
tables that gleamed. Lace tidies lay on the backs and arms of the chairs and sofa. Bridal wreath filled vases she had forgotten
they owned. She walked slowly down the hallway that divided the house. In the dining room her stepmother’s crocheted tablecloth
covered the table, and in the middle a single pink peony floated in a bowl of water.

The swinging door to the kitchen was closed. It had stood open for so long that Jesse had almost forgotten it could be closed.
She pushed it open. The room in no way resembled the kitchen she had left six days ago. The breakfast table had been moved
to the space next to the pantry. The rocking chair from her father’s room and a small table with a book and reading glasses
now sat beside the windows. The kitchen cabinet had been moved over beside the enameled sink. Neatly folded towels hung from
a rack that had been attached above the high back. The new housekeeper had lost no time in making the house her own.

Feeling like a stranger in her own home, Jesse backed out of the room and went down the hall to the front door. Through the
side glass she could see Susan coming up the walk.

Her sister was going to be a beauty, Jesse thought, as she waited for her to reach the door. Her light brown hair was tied
at the nape of her neck with a black ribbon. She wore a dark, two-piece sailor suit with a wide collar trimmed in red braid.
The skirt was the new mid-calf length, her stockings black. But Jesse was disturbed to see the usually high-spirited Susan
trudging along with such a dejected slump to her shoulders.

Jesse threw open the door. “Hurry up, slowpoke, and give me a hug.”

“Jesse! When did you get home?”

“A while ago. Todd saw me pass the school.” Jesse hugged her sister. “You look so pretty. That sailor suit finally came from
Sears Roebuck. Oh, I’ve missed you.”

“I’m glad you’re back. Have you met… her?” It was like Susan to get right to the point.

“I’ve met her. What do you think of the new housekeeper?”

“Not much! She’s got Papa wrapped around her finger.”

“Where did she come from?”

“She came to the door with her suitcases and told Papa she was mamma’s girlhood friend and had come to visit. She acted as
if she didn’t know mamma was gone and cried big crocodile tears. She and Papa went into the surgery, and before I knew it,
I was moving out of my room and into yours so she could have my room.” Susan’s jaw jutted a little.

“Hmmm…”

“She’s all sweetness around Papa, but when he isn’t here she’s as mean as a snake.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s do this, do that. Proper young ladies don’t do this, don’t do that. Do you want to shame your papa?” Susan mimicked
Mrs. Lindstrom’s voice.

“I suppose you have chores—”

“Do I have chores? She hasn’t washed a supper dish since she’s been here. Do you know what she’s done? She talked Papa into
letting Mrs. Klein go. She said that Todd and I could get up an hour early on Monday and work the lever on the washing machine
before we go to school and that soon school would be out and there was no reason to pay Mrs. Klein when we could do it.”

“Mrs. Klein has been coming for years. She depends on the money she makes.”

“Old Ghost-face said washing was part of a housekeeper’s duties and she would be most
happy
to do it. What she meant was she would be most happy for me and Todd to do it.”

“Ghost-face?”

“It’s milk-white, isn’t it? I’ve caught her putting buttermilk on her face three times since she’s been here. She says I’ll
be sorry for going without a hat when I have freckles all over my face. Well, poot on her!”

“What does Papa say to all of this?”

“He says it’s what he’s always wanted—someone to take the household duties off your shoulders so you can have more of a social
life.”

“Hmmm…” Jesse said again.

“Talk to Papa, Jesse. Maybe he’ll listen to you. He’s doing this because he doesn’t think it’s fair that you work in the surgery
and have to run the house. I’ll help more. I promise.”

“I’ll talk to him. In the meanwhile change clothes and, help me unload the buggy. The boot is full of payment for my services—full
of everything but money.”

As soon as they left the house Susan began to ask questions.

“What was it like up there all by yourself? Where did you stay? Did you see where Wade Simmer lives? Is it true he lives with
that darkie?”

“In the first place I wasn’t by myself. There are families scattered all through the hills, and, believe it or not, they are
a tight-knit group who, in a way, look after each other. I stayed with a different family each night. Wade Simmer does not
live in a dugout or a lean-to. He lives in a very comfortable house made of log and stone. His great-grandfather built the
original cabin and his grandfather added to it. Jody lives with him. Does that answer your questions?”

“Wade Simmer came twice to see Papa. It’s the first time I’ve got a good look at him. He’s handsome in a rough sort of way.
The first time they were in the surgery a couple of hours with the door shut.”

“He was very… helpful.”

Susan was too engrossed in her tale to notice the hesitancy in her sister’s voice.

“You would have laughed your head off when that darkie came to the door with your letter. Old Ghost-face tried to run him
off with the broom; but he wouldn’t go, and he wouldn’t tell her what he wanted. She was madder than a wet hen. He just squatted
out by the lilac bushes and waited until Papa came home. When he left he ran right down the middle of Main Street and thumbed
his nose at Marshal Wright. I laughed till I nearly peed my pants.”

“You’d better not let ah… Old Ghost-face hear you say that.” The sisters giggled and hugged each other.

When they entered the kitchen with the first load from the buggy, Mrs. Lindstrom was bringing a custard pie from the oven.
Jesse ignored her and headed for the pantry, where she found the shelves definitely tidier than when she had last seen them.
She and Susan placed the jars of pickled peaches, beets, relishes and jams on the shelves and without a word went back to
the buggy for a second load. They returned with sacks of new potatoes, winter onions, dried pumpkin and squash. Susan carried
a tin of rendered lard.

“Where in the world did all this come from?” Mrs. Lindstrom asked.

“From my patients.”

“Forevermore.” It was all she said but it was enough for Jesse to detect the disapproval in her voice. “Set the table, please,
Susan. It’s twenty minutes till six.”

“But… Papa isn’t here yet.”

“He will be.” Mrs. Lindstrom turned back to the stove and Susan poked out her tongue.

“I’d help you, but I’ve got to beat the rugs.” Jesse caught her sister’s eye and winked.

A few minutes before six o’clock Doctor Forbes came into the house, dropped his bag beside the surgery door, tossed his hat
on the hatrack and hurried down the hall to the lavatory. A few minutes later he came out, hair combed, tie straightened,
and entered the dining room.

“Hello, Papa.” Jesse came from the kitchen.

“At least ten people told me they saw you come through town. You all right?”

“Fine. No new cases in two days.”

“Good. Good. What do you think of my surprise? You didn’t even have to cook supper.”

“Dinner is ready, Doctor. Please sit down.” Mrs. Lind-strom, coming in from the kitchen, saved Jesse from having to answer.
“Children,” she called.

Lacking the exuberance they usually had at suppertime, Susan and Todd came to the table. “Hello, Papa,” they both said at
the same time.

Jesse moved to her regular place opposite her father and near the kitchen. Before she could sit down, Mrs. Lindstrom slid
gracefully into the chair.

“Oh, dear! Is this where you usually sit, Jesse? I’ve been sitting here so I could serve Todd. If you’d rather—”

“It isn’t important.” Jesse slipped into the chair beside her brother. “But I think Todd can serve himself. He’s been doing
it for years.”

“I’m sure. He’s such a little gentleman at the table.”

Doctor Forbes didn’t seem to notice the bite in Jesse’s voice or the housekeeper’s smooth reply. He was helping himself to
the pot roast. Susan rolled her eyes to the ceiling; Todd nudged Jesse with his foot.

The meal Mrs. Lindstrom had prepared could not be faulted. Doctor Forbes ate his roast, mashed potatoes and gravy with obvious
enjoyment. He attempted to talk with Jesse about the epidemic; but after she said that they could discuss it later, he too
fell silent.

Mrs. Lindstrom moved smoothly in to fill the void.

“How was your patient, Doctor?”

“He’ll make it. Damn fool waited long enough to call me.”

“He’s lucky you went at all, considering—”

“Some people have more pride than brains.”

“And some have none at all. How fortunate they are to have such an unselfish doctor.”

“Delicious meal, Mrs. Lindstrom.”

“Thank you, Doctor. Save room for the custard pie.”

Jesse’s eyes went from the housekeeper to her father. A tight knot began to form in her throat; and although the meal was
very good and she was hungry, it was difficult to swallow.

“I-I’m g-glad Je-Jes-se’s ho-ho-ho-” Todd glanced at Mrs. Lindstrom before looking down at his plate. His face reddened because
he couldn’t get out the word.

“I’m sure your sister knows that you’re glad she’s home, dear,” Mrs. Lindstrom said kindly and then spoke to the doctor, effectively
shutting off further conversation from the boy. “I met a very nice lady today. She invited me to join the Harpersville Historical
Society.”

“I can guess who that was.” Jesse placed her knife and fork on the edge of her plate.

“Old Barrel-belly,” Susan said, under her breath but loud enough for Mrs. Lindstrom’s sharp ears.

“Whom did you say, dear?” The voice had lost some of the sweetness.

“It could be none other than Roberta Harper.” Jesse grinned at her sister before looking directly into Mrs. Lindstrom’s eyes.
“She’s terribly proud of the fact that her husband’s grandfather founded the town.”

“Yes, she told me. Well, if we’ve finished, I’ll serve the pie. Susan, dear, will you remove the plates?”