Jonathon stamped his feet to get the snow off, and then entered the office building. A light snow had started falling as he'd made his rounds outside, but by time he'd finished, it had become progressively heavier and now there was a thick coating covering the ground.
When Mrs. Gibson spotted him coming through the door, she got up from her desk and came to him.
"I'd like coffee," he said, brushing snow off his shoulders before taking off his coat and handing it to her.
"Right away, sir. There's a Miss Montgomery here to see you."
"Montgomery?" he said, wondering who she meant.
"Hello, Johnny," he heard, and turned around. Annie was rising from a chair in the small waiting area.
"Annie!" he said with surprise, going to her with his hand out. "Hello." She looked markedly different than the last time he'd seen her. She was wearing a simple navy suit, but it looked stylish on her on her slender frame. Her dark hair was neatly curled under a wide brimmed hat.
"It's good to see you," she said, smiling while she shook his hand. "It's been a long time."
"It certainly has. My secretary said you wanted to see me?"
"Yes – unless you're too busy."
"No, I've got some time to spare. Why don't you come into my office," he said, holding his arm out to show her the way.
"I'll bring coffee for two," Mrs. Gibson said heading in the opposite direction.
When Jonathon stepped into his office, he was about to close the door behind them, then thought better of it. "Have a seat," he said, indicating the chair opposite his desk.
"I heard about your mom," she said when he sat in his chair. "I'm real sorry, Johnny."
"Thanks," he muttered, gathering the correspondence he'd left on his desk to avoid looking at her. It had been some weeks since his mother died, but it wasn't any easier talking about it.
"How's Billy doing?"
"He's doing alright. He'll be graduating next June," he said, hoping to steer the subject away from his mother.
"It's hard to believe he's already a senior," Annie said with a bright smile.
"Yes, it is."
At that moment, Mrs. Gibson appeared with a tray holding a pot of coffee and two cups. After she'd served both of them, she left.
"Is he still seeing Kitty?" Annie asked.
"Yes, he is."
"I always said they made a cute couple. I remember those times when you invited me and Helen over to your parties. Gosh, we all had so much fun together!"
He winced, as a long forgotten pain pierced through him. Helen. He hadn't thought of her in a long time, not since it was clear his mother would never agree to him seeing her.
But your mother isn't here anymore.
A wave of guilt washed over him, and he quickly pushed the thought away. Then he realized Annie was watching him.
He cleared his throat. "You, uh, you said you wanted to see me about something?"
Annie dropped her eyes and set her cup on his desk. "Ye-es," she said slowly, her face flushing while she opened her hand bag. When he saw the folded sheet of newspaper she pulled out, his stomach sank. "I see you posted an advertisement for a housekeeper, and I came to ask if you would consider me for the job."
That's why she was there wearing a suit. How did she know it was him, he wondered, and then realized that as soon as she called the number and got Mrs. Gibson, she'd find out. She was waiting for him to say something, but he was at a loss. How was he going to tell her no without making it seem like a rejection? "I – I," he stumbled.
"I've been taking on a lot of cleaning jobs, so I know I can handle a big house like yours," she said, cutting him off. "I'm a snap at laundry, and any kind of sewing you would need since I've been helping my mom with that for years, and I'm a very good cook. You'll know that the first time you eat my food. My mom's friend, Mrs. Sullivan works for the Shaw's. She taught me how to shop with a budget, and how to keep records of everything I spend, and I'm a real hard worker. I've been helping my mom since I was little with whatever jobs she could get."
She stopped to take a breath, and he jumped into the break. "Annie, I don't think it could work. I mean, being a housekeeper, it's a business relationship, and we – we–"
"We're friends," she said quietly.
That wasn't the word he was looking for, but it would suit his purpose. "That's right. It wouldn't work because I'd be your employer."
"I understand," she said, nodding. "I'd have to be professional, but I can do that easy! That won't be a problem at all!"
He sighed. She wasn't getting the message. Then another idea came to him. "The ad says we need a live-in housekeeper. With you being unmarried..." He spread his hands out. "It just wouldn't do for you to be living–"
"I already thought about that!" she said, interrupting him again. "I can ride my bike to your place. I'll come early, before you get up, and once I'm done in the evening, I'll go back home."
"What about days like today? You can't ride your bike in the snow, or when it's raining."
"I thought of that too! Do you remember Olaf Erickson? He was in the grade ahead of us."
"Not really," he muttered, slumping back in his seat.
"Well, he lives next door to me. He and his brother work at Lindstrom's dairy farm, that's just down the road from you. He said he'd give me a ride in his truck on the days when I can't use my bike. I'll never miss a day of work, I promise!"
"Annie," he said tiredly, and then sighed again. He really didn't want to hurt her. "I'm sorry, I just don't think it will work."
"Please give me a chance!" she pleaded.
Mrs. Gibson happened to walk past his open door, and peered inside with consternation, but scooted away as soon as she saw he'd noticed. When he looked back at Annie, he was dismayed to see tears in her eyes.
"I know I'd be the best housekeeper of anyone you could find! And – and the truth is, I really need this job. My mom's worked hard for years, but she's getting arthritis in her hands, and she can't do things as well as she used to."
By now a tear had run down her cheek and she got a handkerchief out of her hand bag, to wipe it away.
"My brother, he's growing so fast we can barely keep him in clothes, and he's hungry all the time." She managed a small laugh. "I swear the boy is going to eat us out of house and home. I'm sure you have the same problem with Billy."
Jonathon dropped his head. He supposed Billy was hungry frequently since he was still growing too, but he never had to worry there'd be enough for him to eat.
"I've tried to keep it from him and Margie, how bad things are getting, but he knows we're having a hard time. He's started talking about leaving school and getting a job, but he's only fifteen. I don't want him to have to take on a man's job when he's so young!"
She stopped and while she wiped her tears, Jonathon couldn't help thinking of his own situation. He'd worked hard to take care of Billy and their mother after Father died. He had to admire Annie for trying just as hard to make sure her family was cared for.
He also admired her for what she hadn't said. They both knew the reason her mother had struggled to scrape together whatever jobs she could find. Her father had been killed long ago in an accident while working at Blackwell Iron and Mining. He appreciated the fact that she hadn't used her father's death as a reason why he should hire her.
"Give me two weeks!" she exclaimed when he still hadn't responded. "If you don't think I'm doing a good job, I won't say a word of complaint. I'll leave with no hard feelings, I swear it!"
Jonathon thought of the arrangements he'd made with a woman in town who took in elderly people that didn't have family nearby. She was going to have a room ready for Ingrid on December first, and that was only a few days away. It would be convenient to have someone installed so the household didn't fall apart while he searched for someone older and more experienced – someone who wasn't a former acquaintance.
"Alright," he said, and Annie slumped with relief. "But this is just for two weeks, then – we'll see."
"Thank you, John– Mr. Blackwell!" she said, correcting herself. "Thank you! You won't be sorry!"
Her effusive gratitude made him uncomfortable, and he stood, anxious to get rid of her. "It's nothing," he mumbled.
"I can start tomorrow, first thing in the morning," she said, trailing him to the door.
"That'll be fine. I'll let Ingrid know she can expect you."
"Swell! She can show me the ropes so I make sure everything is how you like it!"
He stopped just outside his office. "Goodbye, Annie," he said, taking her hand for a brief handshake.
"I'll see you tomorrow, John– Mr. Blackwell!" she said, her face glowing.
He gave her a curt nod, and escaped back into his office, gratefully closing the door behind him. Letting out a deep breath, he went back to his desk. He hoped she'd meant it when she said she'd leave without complaint.
~~
The next night when he and Billy came through the front door, Annie was in the hallway waiting for them in a black uniform.
"Good evening, Mr. Blackwell, Mr. Blackwell," she said to each of them.
"Awe geez, Annie!" Billy said while Jonathon took off his coat and handed to her. "Don't call me Mr. Blackwell! Just call me Billy like you always do."
Her eyes widened with alarm. "I – I don't think I'm allowed," she stammered.
"What? That's ridiculous!"
Jonathon rounded on Billy, wanting to stop him before he made things even worse. "It was one of the conditions of Annie working here. She's not doing this for a lark, you know. She's working for us."
"Then I should have a say in what she calls me, shouldn't I?" Billy said, lifting his chin defiantly.
Jonathon glared at his brother. Why was Billy insisting on undercutting his authority in front of her? He tried to think of a response, but he realized his brother had a point, and it made him angrier.
"Fine," he growled. "Just remember, if you insist on being too familiar with her, it could cost her this job. I won't tolerate a housekeeper who doesn't know her place!"
Billy opened his mouth but before he could respond, Jonathon stalked off in the direction of the dining room. Billy shouldn't be so cavalier about changing the natural order of things. Didn't he understand how important it was to maintain his superiority with the people who worked for them?
Jonathon pulled out his chair from the table forcefully, and dropped into it, grinding his teeth. He loved his brother, but sometimes Billy drove him to distraction.
When Billy joined him a moment later, he wisely kept his mouth shut, and Jonathon pretended to be busy unfolding his napkin. He didn't want to continue debating the point either. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep from losing his temper if he did.
Annie was all formality when she brought out steaming dishes and placed them on the table, and Jonathon was satisfied. At least she seemed to have gotten the message, even if Billy hadn't.
"This looks really good," Billy said, surveying the table with wonder. That's when Jonathon noticed the platter of fried chicken Annie had set in front of him. Ingrid never made fried chicken.
"I asked Ingrid to allow me to cook tonight's meal," Annie said, bowing her head, but she smiled with pride. "I hope both of you enjoy it."
"I know I will!" Billy said eagerly, handing his plate to Jonathon so he could start serving him.
Annie had certainly made an effort to show off her cooking skills. In addition to fried chicken, there was a plate piled high with fluffy biscuits, a bowl of mashed potatoes with chopped parsley on top, thick brown gravy, and green beans glistening with butter.
All of it was delicious, and by time they'd finished, Jonathon was in a much better mood. When Annie was taking away the dishes, he didn't hesitate to compliment her. "Dinner was good."
She smiled widely. "Thank you, Mr. Blackwell."
"I don't know if I have room for dessert," Billy said, leaning back in his chair and patting his stomach.
"I hope you do. I made pie."
"Really?" he said, immediately straightening. "What kind?"
"Apple."
"I love apple pie!"
"Well, I better go get it," she said with a laugh, heading back through the swinging door.
She reappeared a moment later with the pie and two dessert plates. "I'll be right back with your coffee," she said, setting the pie in front of Jonathon.
"Hey, Annie, I have a question," Billy said, stopping her. "Do you ever see Helen Anderson these days?"
Jonathon's hand froze in the process of slicing into the pie, and he stared at his brother.
"Helen?" Annie said. "Yes, I see her all the time. Why?"
"Oh, I just wondered how she's doing."
"She's doing swell! She's got a nice job working at her uncle's bank."
"That's good to hear. Thanks!"
Jonathon waited until Annie was gone and the swinging door had stilled. "Why did you ask about Helen?" he hissed.
"Don't you wonder how she's doing?"
Jonathon turned his attention back to slicing the pie. "No," he said, but he could feel his face heating up.
Annie came in with the coffee, and both brothers were silent while she poured it for Jonathon. As soon as she was gone, Billy leaned forward. "I don't believe you. You still think about her."
"Why do you think that?" Jonathon said, concentrating on the pie in front of him, cutting it into more pieces than was necessary.
"Because you've never brought up another girl since you met her."
"That doesn't mean anything," Jonathon muttered.
He handed Billy his plate and got a slice for himself, even though he no longer wanted it.
"I think you should pay her a visit. I think you should ask her out."
"That's – not possible."
"Why not?"
Jonathon looked in his brother's brown eyes for a long moment. "I shouldn't do it. Mother didn't want me to."
"I can't believe it. Is that really the reason?"
"Yes."
"You didn't believe Mother was right about Helen, did you? Because she was poor?"
"No."
"Then why let that keep you from seeing her now?"
"Because it doesn't feel like the right thing to do! Mother told me she didn't approve. Just because she's not here to stop me, doesn't mean I should disobey her wishes."
"But Mother was wrong! You won't be hurting her by not taking her wrong advice."
Jonathon speared his pie with his fork. "I don't know," he muttered.
"You do know, Johnny... in your heart."
Jonathon put his napkin on the table and stood. "I'm tired."
Billy's face fell. "Alright, good night."
"Good night."
Jonathon headed out of the room, wracked with equal parts guilt and heartache. He couldn't be that horrible, doing the very thing his mother had forbidden him to do as soon as she was dead. What kind of son would do something like that?
But what Billy had said, made a certain amount of sense. His Mother had been blinded by her old fashioned ideas about wealth and class. Just because Helen wasn't from a certain kind of family didn't mean she wasn't as good a person as anyone else. And if his mother was wrong about that, should he be bound to her wishes?
He shook his head as he climbed the stairs. He couldn't do it. It would be a betrayal to his mother's memory.
Over a week later, he was still debating with himself about whether he should pursue Helen or not. In fact, he was spending so much time going back and forth about it, it was distracting him from his work.
And on that particular Sunday, with the office empty of everyone except him and Mrs. Gibson, he felt like he was going mad. With no noises of people working outside his office to distract him, or urgent business that had to be dealt with, he was mired in his swirling thoughts.
Sitting behind his desk, he looked out the window at the pit. He'd already made the rounds earlier that morning, but maybe he could come up with an excuse to do it again?
"Do you know what you'd like for lunch?" Mrs. Gibson asked, and he swiveled his chair to face her. "I saw James arrive a minute ago, and I wondered if you wanted to send him into town now rather than wait until noon."
"I want..."
Mrs. Gibson waited, while he struggled to make a decision.
"I'm going to eat in town today," he said finally.
"Oh?" she said, clearly surprised.
"Why don't you take the rest of the day off? There isn't anything pressing that can't wait until tomorrow."
Her mouth dropped open. "Are you sure?"
He stood and strode towards her. "I'm positive."
"Well, alright."
As he headed for the exit, she rushed to get his coat and fedora. "But what if you need anything?"
"I'm sure I'll be able to manage on my own."
When he took his coat from her, he smiled, then he stepped out into the winter sun. With the doors closed behind him, he paused and took a deep breath of the chilly air before heading towards the Duesenberg, finally feeling like his head was clearing.
****
Just like the chapter title says, some changes are being made to Jonathon's life. You're probably guessing that Jonathon's decision to only keep Annie on temporarily isn't going to go according to plan. And what will happen when he sees Helen? I can't wait to hear your guesses!
Thank you so much for continuing to read! I can't tell you how much I appreciate your support through my erratic posting schedule. The truth is, I've found this story much harder to write than Boy because I have certain plot points everyone has to get to, with no clear path in my head how they're getting there. And on top of that, I have a very firm historical dates schedule along with certain children's birth dates.
If you would like to give this story a vote to show your further support, you would have my undying affection. The picture in the multimedia is a young Annie aka Joan Loring.
Cheers!
Katherine