Gabrielle Meyer - A Mother In The Making

Lilly lifted her finger to her mouth and nibbled on her nail. “Papa might not like you in those dresses, though. I don’t think I ever saw Mama wear anything like them.”

Marjorie’s attention returned to her task, and she took another gown out of the trunk, this one a soft muslin morning dress. She paused. “What was your mother like?”

Lilly’s face filled with sadness and she dropped her gaze. “She was wonderful.”

Marjorie lowered the gown and sat next to the girl. “You must miss her very much.”

Lilly nodded but didn’t speak.

“I’m sure she would be very proud of how you’re helping take care of Laura and Petey.”

“Mama was very gentle and kind. She was never angry.”

“And what of your father?”

Lilly lifted her shoulder and toyed with a loose thread on the quilt. “Papa wasn’t home much before Mama died. He was usually gone by the time we came down for breakfast, and he often came home after Mama put us to bed.”

“But he’s home more now?”

Lilly nodded.

“Do you like having him home?”

Again, the girl nodded. “I like it very much—but I’m afraid that since you’ve come, he might go back to working as much as before.”

“Did your mother ever ask him to stay home more?”

“Mama always said we must never complain about how much he worked. She said he was a doctor, and doctors needed to make people well. Her father was a doctor, too, and she said it was our job to sacrifice so they could do their work.”

Marjorie wanted to deny what the girl said. Yes, Dr. Orton had a demanding job, but his family should not have to suffer because of it.

More than anything, Marjorie had wanted her own father present in her life when she was a child. He had always used his work as his excuse—and Mother had never pushed him to be present.

Indignation rose in Marjorie’s gut. If Dr. Orton could make time to be home with his family now, surely he could have made time before his wife died.

Marjorie looked off toward the window where the November landscape looked bleak against a pale blue sky. What kind of woman would Dr. Orton choose for his second wife? Would she be as compliant as the first Mrs. Orton? Would she keep quiet as he sacrificed his family? In the few minutes Marjorie had spent with him, she could tell he was authoritative and probably ruled with a stubborn set of principles—just like Marjorie’s father. He needed a woman who wouldn’t be afraid to stand up to him and tell him when he was being too rigid.

Someone she wished her mother had been.

But was Dr. Orton capable of finding someone like that?

An excited bubble fluttered through Marjorie’s midsection—the same feeling she had every time she was about to undertake a new project. But this time, she wouldn’t leave the task half-completed. She would finally finish something she started. She would find a new wife for Dr. Orton—and she would make sure the woman he married was exactly who the doctor and his children needed.

Marjorie could almost picture the lady in her mind now. She would be bold, vivacious and charming. She would stand up to the doctor when she needed to, and be an excellent mother to the children. Hopefully she was pretty and would look nice standing next to the handsome Dr. Orton—but that was a secondary concern for Marjorie.

As soon as she had a moment, she would make a list of all the attributes Dr. Orton’s second wife should possess—and the first item on her list would be whimsical. He didn’t need a practical woman. Practical women forced their daughters into practical marriages and didn’t leave room for things like love and romance. He needed someone who would be his opposite, to balance his personality.

Clearly Dr. Orton needed help with this important endeavor, and Marjorie was in a position to help him.

“Don’t worry, Lilly.” Marjorie stood and lifted the muslin gown in her hands once again. She walked to the wardrobe and hung the dress inside. “I have a feeling your father will be around the house much more now that I’m here.” She would make sure of it...somehow.

“Really?”

“Why don’t you run along and play? I have some work to do this afternoon.”

Lilly stood obediently and crossed the room to the door. “I like you, Miss Maren.”

Marjorie paused and smiled. “I like you, too, Lilly.”

A bit of Lilly’s sadness seemed to disappear. She slipped out of the room and left the door open.

A new face peeked around the door and then disappeared just as quickly.

Marjorie walked across the room. “Charlie?”

After a moment, Charlie appeared in her doorway, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes lowered to the floor. “Hello, Miss Maren.”

She hadn’t seen him since he took her bag. “It’s nice to see you again.”

He dug his toe into the plush carpet and wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I brought you something.”

“A gift?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Something like that.”

“I love gifts—how did you know?”

Again, he shrugged. “Most girls like gifts—at least my mama and Lilly do. Or did—my mama, I mean.”

The corners of Marjorie’s mouth tipped down. She couldn’t imagine losing her mother as a child. What a horrible experience for these children to endure. Maybe, along with finding a new wife for Dr. Orton, God had brought Marjorie to this home to bring some life and enjoyment into these children’s lives. “Have you ever been to a movie theater?”

That got his attention. Charlie looked up. “No.”

“Would you like to go? Maybe to a matinee?” She didn’t have any money to bring them, but surely Dr. Orton would give her an allowance to spend on the children’s activities.

Charlie’s eyes lit with excitement. “Could we?”

Marjorie nodded. “I’ll even ask your father to come.”

The excitement disappeared from his gaze. “He won’t take the time to come. Especially now that you’re here to take care of us, and he’s so busy with all the influenza patients.”

Marjorie nibbled on her bottom lip. There had to be a way to get Dr. Orton to have some fun with his children. “You leave your father to me.” She offered him a smile. “Didn’t you have a gift to give me?”

The tops of Charlie’s ears turned red and he brought his right hand out from behind his back. Nestled inside his palm was a dried rosebud. “My mama has a rose garden behind the house. This was from the last bush that bloomed this past summer—before she was sick. Mama and I picked the roses, and she showed me how to hang them upside down to let them dry.”

Charlie extended his hand, and Marjorie gently took the rosebud.

“Charlie—” Her voice caught. “This is a beautiful gift. But are you sure you want me to have it?”

Charlie nodded. “I have others. I just thought—” He let out a breath and put his hands in his pockets. “I thought, since you didn’t know my mama, you might like to have something she loved here in the house with you.”

Marjorie swallowed another lump of emotion. “Thank you. I will keep this on my bureau so I can look at it often. But this isn’t the only thing in the house that she loved. You, Lilly, Petey, Laura and your papa are all examples of things she loved dearly.”

Charlie lifted his gaze and his expression softened. Without a word, he turned and left Marjorie alone.

She stood in her doorway for a moment and fingered the delicate rosebud. It might have been plucked from life too early, but its beauty would live on—just as Anna Orton would do in her family.

Chapter Three

John sat in his home office and pulled a fresh sheet of paper out of his desk drawer. Now that he had secured a governess—even a temporary one—he could turn his attention to the next order of business on his to-do list: find a wife.