Janet Barton - Somewhere to Call Home

Violet followed them out of the train and down to ground level again. Michael hired a hack and off they went once more.

“Aren’t we going to show her Central Park, Michael? We’ve come this far.”

“Perhaps we can go there tomorrow after Sunday dinner?”

“That is a wonderful idea. She can’t see New York City all in a day, that is for certain.”

As the Heatons talked over her, Violet began to believe she could live here the rest of her life and never see it all. Back on street level, in the traffic of a Saturday morning, Violet once again found herself closing her eyes from time to time as one or another vehicle seemed bound to run into them.

Michael was right. It wasn’t far to Butterick on Broadway. Violet looked up at the building with the signs that said E. Butterick and Company. Ornate molding framed the windows and doors. The building was very nice, and Violet didn’t think she would mind working there, but in her present circumstance she’d be glad to find any respectable position.

Michael pointed out all the El stops, but Violet had a feeling it would take a while before she knew exactly which one to take. He promised to draw her a map to keep with her, to make it easier for her to remember.

Mrs. Heaton pointed out Brooks Brothers, Tiffany’s Jewelry and Lord & Taylor along with other stores on Broadway. Michael had the driver turn up and down several different blocks and, new as she was to the city, even Violet could tell when they got close to the Ladies’ Mile.

Traffic slowed and became more congested. Carriages of all kinds, landaus, rockaways and phaetons moved slowly, giving them a glimpse of the ladies inside. That these women belonged to society was evident by the gowns they wore and the fact that many had liveried men driving them.

But there were others—everyday women dressed much like Violet and Mrs. Heaton—who were there, too. They were lined up, looking in the shop windows of Macy’s, Le Boutellier Brothers, Hearns Department Store and Orbach’s on Fourteenth Street. Violet remembered that Macy’s and Hearns both had ads in the classifieds. She’d apply at them on Monday as well as Butterick.

Part of Violet wanted to be looking in the windows along with all of those other women, and the other part of her could not have been more relieved when Michael told the driver to take them back to the boardinghouse.

If anything, traffic was even more frenzied than earlier in the day, and Violet closed her eyes at more than one intersection. When Michael chuckled, she opened them to find him looking at her with a smile on his face.

“I’m sorry, Violet, it is just so entertaining to watch you try not to watch the traffic.”

“I can’t seem to help it. I fear a calamity is bound to happen at any moment, and I don’t want to see it or be part of it.”

“Oh, accidents do happen, and frequently. But most times they aren’t all that serious.” He grinned at her. “However, it might be best if you try not to shut your eyes, or pray that our driver doesn’t shut his, as well.”

Violet laughed with him. “Yes, I can see how that might help. I’ll try, but I can’t promise.”

Just then, an omnibus careened around a corner and seemed to be heading straight for them. Violet scrunched her eyes shut tight and screamed.

* * *

After a much-needed nap, Violet woke refreshed and looking forward to dinner, in spite of feeling horrible about screaming in Mrs. Heaton’s ear. When that omnibus had come straight toward their hack, she’d been certain it was going to topple them over. Thankfully, the Lord had been with them and, just in the nick of time, their driver had avoided the calamity.

The Heatons had assured her, over and over again, that they understood, and told her that if not for her scream, their driver might not have acted so quickly. Still, she felt a bit silly and embarrassed about it all. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a topic of conversation at dinner.

She chose a gown of purple moiré that was several years old, but still in style. At least it had been back home. She only hoped it wasn’t terribly outdated here in New York City.

After dressing her hair into a psyche knot, Violet turned this way and that in front of the standing mirror in the corner. The dress had an ivory lace inset in the bodice and a high collar and waistband of a darker shade of purple. It showed little wear, and, well, it would have to do. Even if she chose another gown, it would not be new.

After Mama had her stroke there’d been no money for new clothes, not even homemade ones, and Violet had no interest in them anyway. All she’d wanted was for her mother to get well. But that wasn’t to be and, oh, how she missed her. Grief, sudden and sharp, threatened to engulf Violet, until she remembered the promise she’d made to her mother just before she had passed away.

Mama had been so alert for just those few moments as she’d grasped her hand and said, “Violet, now don’t you give yourself over to grief once I’m gone. You’ve been a blessing to me and I don’t know what I would have done without you. I want you to get on with your life. The Lord has great plans for you. I know you’ll miss me, but I pray your days will be full of life and joy and living according to the Lord’s will. When you start to give in to the grief, think of me in Heaven. Promise me, Violet, for I’m ready to go.”

“I promise, Mama,” Violet had said. Her mother had squeezed her hand, closed her eyes and slipped away. Remembering how peaceful her mother had looked, Violet let one last sob escape before she wiped at her tears. They wouldn’t bring her mother back, and Violet wouldn’t have wanted her to suffer just to stay here for her sake.

She let out a huge sigh and nodded to herself. Enough of this—it wasn’t what Mama would want. She would honor her mother’s wishes and her promise to her. But, oh, how she wished she’d been with her today to see all the sights and hubbub of this city. It comforted her to think that maybe she saw it all from Heaven.

Hearing the sounds of the other boarders begin to make their way downstairs, Violet hurried into the bathroom to splash water on her face, trying to get rid of the telltale tears. She pinched her cheeks to give them color and took a deep breath before stepping out into the hall.

Violet hoped she wasn’t overdressed, or underdressed, as she headed down to the parlor to join everyone. She was relieved to see that Elizabeth was dressed much as she was in a pale blue gown, and she put her worries about how she looked away.

“Violet, did you have a good day?” Elizabeth asked as she led the way downstairs. “I asked my friend about openings at Tiffany Glass, and as I suspected, there aren’t any at present. Still, she said she’d let me know when one comes up. Evidently it’s fairly often.”

“Thank you for asking about it, Elizabeth. I did have a good day. I rode on the El for the first time and I know where several companies are that I’ll apply at on Monday, including Butterick.”

Elizabeth chuckled. “Riding on the El for the first time is an experience, but you get used to it very quickly. I’m so glad there is an opening at Butterick. I’ll be praying you get that position and then we can be coworkers, too.”

They were both laughing when they joined the others in the parlor just as Mrs. Heaton called them to the dining room. Again, Violet found herself sitting adjacent to Michael and across from Lila.

After Michael said the blessing and began carving the large ham Gretchen had set before him, Mrs. Heaton introduced a new man at the table as John Talbot, a reporter for the New York Tribune. He’d been covering a charity ball the night before.

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Burton,” he said. He was about her age and clean-shaven, with rust-colored hair and greenish-blue eyes. He didn’t have the rough demeanor she’d thought a seasoned reporter might possess; instead, he looked like someone she could have gone to school with.