Winnie Griggs - Her Holiday Family

This time the widow frowned slightly. “I do not.” There was definitely a tone of “and I don’t want one” in her voice. And there was also no offer to let the kids call her by an endearing name.

“When we get to Hatcherville,” the boy said proudly, “Gee-Gee says I can get a dog.”

“Gee-Gee?” Mrs. Pierce cast him a questioning glance.

“It’s what the children call Miss Fredrick,” Simon explained. “Her first name is Georgina.”

Mrs. Pierce nodded, then turned to Joey. “I’m sure that will be very nice.” Then she turned back to Simon. “The rooms are ready for you and your charges. I hope the children won’t mind doubling up.”

“They’re used to sharing,” Simon assured her. “Their former home wasn’t nearly as grand as this one and they had much tighter sleeping arrangements.” He’d seen their bedrooms, crowded with bunk beds like a cramped dormitory. It was one of the reasons Miss Fredrick planned this move. “Do you have a specific way you’d like to assign the rooms or are you leaving it up to us?”

“I have put you and the boys in three rooms on the third floor,” the widow responded. “The girls will be in three rooms on the second floor with me and Miss Jacobs.”

He nodded. “An excellent arrangement. If you’ll show us the way, we’ll get everyone settled in.” He paused. “By the way, I asked the young man over at the train depot to have our bags delivered here so they should be arriving soon.” Most of the kids’ belongings, along with all the household items, had been sent on ahead to Hatcherville, but luckily Miss Fredrick had seen that they each had a change of clothing packed for the trip. At least clothing wouldn’t be a problem for the next few days.

He wished the same were true about everything else to do with this setback.

* * *

Eileen led the way up the stairs, trying her best to remain composed. Seeing all those children up close was more than a little overwhelming. The questions the two youngest had asked had bordered on impertinence. They were little more than toddlers, of course, but her mother and instructors had always insisted one was never too young to learn good manners.

She certainly hoped Mr. Tucker had told the truth when he said they were well behaved. Of course, the conditional that he’d tagged on about their age hadn’t inspired her with much confidence.

These visitors seemed impressed with her home, but they were about to see how starkly furnished their rooms were. What would they think? Of course, one could hardly expect children to be discriminating in such matters. But Mr. Tucker was a different matter. And she found his opinion did matter.

When they reached the second floor, she turned to Dovie. “Would you please help the girls get settled in while I show Mr. Tucker and the boys to the third floor?”

“Of course.” Dovie smiled at the girls. “I’ll let you all decide how you want to pair up and then we’ll pick out rooms for everyone.”

Eileen led the way up the stairs to the third floor. A part of her envied Dovie’s easy manner with the children. It might not be dignified, but the children seemed better able to relate to her. Then she mentally took herself to task. As her mother had often drilled into her, Paylors always maintained their dignity and composure, no matter what.

As they stepped onto the landing she felt the need to apologize. “These rooms haven’t seen any use in the past two years. Miss Jacobs and I aired them out but they may still be a bit musty.”

“I’m sure it’ll be just fine.” Mr. Tucker looked around and she watched him closely for signs of judgment. To her relief, he seemed to see nothing amiss.

“Do you have a preference for who gets which room?” he asked.

Good—they were going to keep things businesslike. “The three on this end have been made ready—you may assign them however you wish.”

With a nod he turned to the boys. “Harry and Russ, you two take the far room. Albert, you and Joey can have the middle one. And I’ll take the one nearest the stairs.”

The doorbell sounded and Mr. Tucker turned back to her with a smile. “That’s probably our bags.” He waved to the two older boys. “Harry, Russell, come help me get everything carted upstairs.”

“We’re coming, too,” the one he’d called Albert said.

“Yeah, we’re coming, too,” Joey said with a great deal of bravado.

To Eileen’s surprise, Mr. Tucker merely grinned at this bit of assertiveness. “All right, men, the more hands, the lighter the load I always say.”

By the time they made it to the first floor, Dovie had already opened the door to their caller. As Mr. Tucker had predicted, it was Lionel from the train depot.

As soon as Lionel saw Mr. Tucker over Dovie’s shoulder he straightened. “I brought your things, Mr. Tucker, just like you asked. It’s all on the wagon—I’ll get it unloaded in a snap.” He reached into his pocket. “And I brought this telegram that came for you, too.”

Eileen stiffened slightly. Mr. Tucker was already getting telegrams here? It certainly hadn’t taken him long to make himself at home.

She watched as he sent the four boys to help Lionel unload the cart, and then unfolded the piece of paper.

Whatever the news, he didn’t appear to like it. Had he received more bad news on top of today’s events?

* * *

Simon stared at the very terse telegram he’d received in response to the one he’d sent Miss Fredrick’s brother.

KEEP ME APPRISED

W. FREDRICK

Apparently Wilbur Fredrick didn’t intend to rush to his sister’s bedside. Simon didn’t understand that—he would have given anything to have had that opportunity with Imogene, to have been able to have a few last words with her before she passed on.

He refolded the paper and shoved it into his pocket. Perhaps this was his fault. Maybe he hadn’t made it clear just how serious Miss Fredrick’s condition was. Should he send another telegram?

He glanced up and caught Mrs. Pierce watching him, a hint of sympathy in her expression. But she immediately turned away, her demeanor once more aloof, and he wondered if he’d merely imagined it.

Lionel and the boys deposited the first load of baggage just then and went back for more. Before he could join them, the girls were trooping downstairs to investigate what was going on. So Simon pushed aside thoughts of Wilbur Fredrick, and Mrs. Pierce’s show of concern, to ponder at a quieter time.

He joined the “menfolk” unloading the wagon and they managed to get the remaining items in one more load.

Once everything was deposited in the entry hall, he dismissed Lionel with a coin and his thanks. When he turned back, the children were already digging into the pile with noisy enthusiasm as well as a bit of good-natured shoving, each looking for their own items. Mrs. Pierce cringed and drew back into herself. Was it the noise level or the overall chaos that bothered her more?

Then she straightened. “Children, please.” Her voice, while not loud or strident, carried the ring of authority, and the children closest to her paused in their scrambling to look her way.

“Quiet, please.” This time her voice carried to the rest of the children, and everyone turned to stare at her in surprise.

“There is no need for this unruly behavior. You are all old enough to know how to conduct yourselves in a more orderly fashion.”

Simon frowned. This might be her home, but she couldn’t expect the children to act like miniature versions of herself. “Mrs. Pierce, I believe what you are seeing is enthusiasm rather than unruly behavior.”

“One can be excited and show decorum at the same time.” She turned to the children. “Now, starting with the oldest and the youngest, step forward and find your things. Then take them up to your room.”