Providence (15 page)

Despite our early start, Mrs. Jeanie Applewood arrived at the store shortly after we opened. She was carrying her brand new baby in one arm and a cardboard box in the other. A young man paced back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the store with a cell phone pressed to his ear. I took him to be Mr. Applewood.

Mrs. Applewood shoved the box at me. “This is it,” she said. “The gown. The christening gown. The christening gown that has been in my husband’s family forever. The one my mother-in-law bestowed upon me the day we returned from our honeymoon. The one I stuck up in the attic, because I didn’t appreciate her interfering. Not that she interferes—she would be the first one to tell you that she never does that. And not that I’m judging, because I’m really not the kind of person who jumps to judgments. It’s just that … Can you fix it?”

Mrs. Applewood looked more nervous than a bird in a roomful of cats. I opened the box and examined the gown. The Applewood’s attic was home to one hungry batch of moths. When I looked up Mrs. Applewood was pacing the floor in step with her husband pacing outside.

“Well?” she asked. “Is there any hope?”

Rosie walked over and stood beside the woman. I think she wanted to be ready to catch the baby in case I said the gown was a lost cause.

I pointed to the paper taped to the cover of the box. “Do you know if this is a list of everyone who wore this gown?” I asked.

Mrs. Applewood nodded. “The Applewoods are very organized people. I’m sure the list is complete.”

“Well, I can’t make it look like it used to look, but I can try something a little different,” I said. The poor woman looked like she was about to melt into a puddle on the floor, so I started talking faster. “I could cover the holes with embroidery. I could stitch the name and baptism date of everyone on the list onto the gown. I’ll stitch your baby’s name on it, too. It will look like you wanted to do something special for the family. No one will ever have to know about the little moth problem.”

Mrs. Applewood bit her bottom lip. Her eyes filled with tears. Rosie put her arm around her. “Can you imagine how impressed your dear, sweet mother-in-law will be when she sees the gown? The history of the whole family will be a permanent part of that dress. And you can always come back and have the names of any future Applewood members stitched onto it, too.”

Mrs. Applewood sniffled. “Mother Applewood will love the idea,” she said.

“And she will love you for doing this,” Rosie said.

I held baby Chloe while Rosie took care of the business end. Chloe felt light as a feather compared to Georgia. I brought her over to Georgia’s carriage and let Baby Girl have a peek. Baby Girl looked so big compared to the baby I was holding that I doubted she would still fit into a christening gown.

I waved to the Applewoods as they drove away. I decided to do a little housekeeping around the store before starting in on the gown. I pulled out a dust rag and got to work.

“Becky, I can do that. You need to get to work on your stitching,” Rosie called out without lifting herself from her seat.

I walked back up the aisle and looked at Rosie. The day I met her, she moved up the aisle like a steam engine chugging down the tracks. Today, less than three months later, she reminded me of a car on its last drops of gas. My chest ached with worry that living with Georgia and I was the cause of this change. When Rosie leaned forward and tried to pull herself up, I said, “You just sit there and keep an eye on Georgia. Cleaning frees my mind and it will give me a chance to think through this project. I can bring the gown home with me to work on, and I have a few days to finish.”

After lunch, I opened the box again to take another look at the gown. The white thread I had would look too bright against the fabric. “I need to go down and see Lydie about some floss for this project. I’ll take this with me,” I said folding the dress back into the box. “And I’ll bring Georgia along. I think she would like to go for a little stroll in the sunshine.”

“Tell Lydie I said hi,” Rosie said. She turned her chair slightly, so she could soak in some of the warm sunshine that poured through the window.

I explained my project to Lydie when I got to Needles and Notions. She looked at the gown and found the perfect floss. It was the color the dress would be, if a tea bag had been allowed to steep a little longer. And it had a shimmery finish that made it pop out against the gauze-like cloth. Lydie was impressed by my idea for the project, and I felt myself getting excited just talking with her about it.

“Becky, I’d be happy to put a sign up right here in the Needles and Notions advertising your services. You would enjoy more business, and I would enjoy having more business from you,” Lydie said.

I was flattered, but I was pretty sure Rosie would not like the idea. “I have all the business I can handle over at Second Hand Rose. Thanks for offering, though.”

I waved to Rosie when I reached the sidewalk in front of the store, but she didn’t wave back. That worried me a little so I picked up the pace and was huffing and puffing by the time Georgia and I got back inside. A customer stood at the counter with a pile of would-be purchases in front of her. Rosie was slumped in her chair, sound asleep.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting too long,” I said.

The lady jumped a little. I think she had been staring so hard at Rosie, trying to will her awake, that she hadn’t noticed Georgia’s and my arrival. I wrote up a receipt and helped carry her bags to her car. When I came back in I contemplated waking Rosie, but decided instead to push the stroller over next to Rosie’s chair and let the two ladies nap together. I settled into the chair and threaded my needle.

Baby Girl woke first and served as Rosie’s alarm clock. Rosie seemed a little confused by the time. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long,” she snapped.

I chose my words carefully. “It has been quiet in here all afternoon. I was thinking that maybe we could close up early today.”

“Why, of course, Becky. We can close early. You and Georgia must be tuckered out from your first day back. I told you we shouldn’t rush back to work,” Rosie said. “I’m sorry if I seemed a little impatient with you a minute ago.”

“No need for an apology,” I said.

We got about halfway down the block when Rosie stopped. “I forgot to pick up something to make for dinner. I checked the freezer this morning and there was nothing to defrost,” she said.

“We have plenty of leftovers. Why don’t I heat them all up? It will be like buffet night at the Tick Tock,” I suggested.

After dinner, I played with Georgia until it was her bedtime. She was looking lively again and enjoyed the attention. Rosie turned in right after I put Georgia in her crib, and I got back to work on the gown. By the time I turned out the lights, I had stitched a third of the way through the list.

The next morning, the phone was ringing when we walked into the Second Hand Rose. Rosie hustled behind the counter and opened the drawer where she kept the phone tucked away. By the time she accomplished this, the phone stopped ringing.

“What’s wrong with people today? Why place a call if you don’t have the patience to wait for an answer?” Rosie complained. She closed the drawer and walked over to flip the sign on the door from “closed” to “open.”

The phone started ringing again. “I’ll get it,” I said. I didn’t want Rosie rushing across the room again.

Mrs. Applewood was on the other end of the line. I explained to her that I was making good progress, but that I wasn’t done yet. “Don’t you worry. It will be ready by Saturday afternoon, like we agreed,” I said.

“I said Saturday because the christening is this Sunday, but now my mother-in-law is coming up on Saturday to make sure I’m doing everything right. I just know she will want to see the dress,” Mrs. Applewood said, her voice rising with every word.

I could practically see her crying through the phone line. “Then we will have to make sure the work is done before she comes visiting,” I said. “You go take care of your baby, and I’ll take care of the dress. I’ll call you as soon as it’s done.”

I told Rosie about Mrs. Applewood’s predicament and we agreed that I would stitch all day while she took care of the customers. By afternoon, I was two-thirds through the list and Rosie was tuckered out. She sat in her chair and asked me to bring Georgia over to her. I had noticed about a month ago that Rosie no longer held Baby Girl when she was standing. I guessed it was because Georgia was growing so fast; she was getting too heavy for Rosie to lift.

When I got them settled, I went back to my stitching. Watching them together made me smile. Georgia had quite a personality now, and the two of them always seemed to share a secret joke. When they both showed signs of needing a nap, I took a break and gave Baby Girl a bottle and a lullaby before putting her down for a rest. Rosie dozed off before Georgia. I sat for a few minutes, watching the two of them sleep before getting back to work. I hoped Mrs. Applewood was enjoying a moment like this in her day.

At closing time, the phone rang again. Two calls in one day must have been some kind of record, since the phone rang so rarely that I worked there for two months without even knowing there was a phone.

“I can guess who that is calling,” Rosie said. “Do you want me to talk to her?”

“I’ll get it,” I answered.

Once again, I told Mrs. Applewood not to worry and that I would call as soon as I finished. She was starting to get me worrying and thinking about all of the things that could go wrong. I double-checked to make sure I had plenty of floss to finish the project without needing an extra trip to Needles and Notions. Rosie volunteered to go up to the market, so I wouldn’t lose any stitching time. I considered the offer, but figured my eyes and fingers needed a break before a night of sewing.

When we got home, Rosie made dinner while I fed Georgia and gave her a bath. Rosie volunteered to tend to her after dinner, so I got right to work. It was after midnight when I slid my needle through the fabric for the last time. I was tempted to give Mrs. Applewood a call right then and there.

I know Mama always said it was a sin to be prideful, but I admit to taking a few minutes to admire my handiwork the next morning. Georgia was still asleep, so I gently laid the gown on top of her. Rosie walked in at that very moment. “Doesn’t she look like the angel she is,” Rosie said. “I’ve wanted to bring up having her christened at my church, but I was afraid you wouldn’t approve. You never want to come to church with me on Sunday mornings. Now that I know we’re of one mind, I’ll go ahead and speak to the reverend about it.”

For the first time in my life, I was so nervous I couldn’t speak. Christenings meant paperwork and questions. Questions I couldn’t answer truthfully, or didn’t want to answer truthfully. And a christening is
permanent
. Since finding Baby Girl, everything I did was
for now
. I changed her diapers
for now
. I named her Georgia
for now
. But a christening is
forever
. I would have to stand before God and promise to always help Baby Girl follow His path. I didn’t have the right to make
forever
choices for this baby.

Before I could correct Rosie, Baby Girl woke up. I put the gown back in its box and took care of her. By the time we left for work, Rosie had created a to-do list and was trying to decide whether she should call the reverend or stop by to see him.

I had called Mrs. Applewood from the house before we left, and she was waiting at the door when we got to the store. As soon as we got inside, I took the box from the basket and laid it on the counter. I expected her to rip into it like a kid at Christmas, but instead she just stared at it. It was like she was afraid of what might be inside. I lifted the lid and pulled the gown from the box.

Mrs. Applewood let out a quiet gasp. “It’s beautiful,” she said, running the tip of her finger over the fabric where Chloe’s name was stitched. “It’s perfect.” And then she started to cry.

Rosie had her arm around her and a tissue in her hand in no time at all. I folded the dress back into the box and tried to avoid Mrs. Applewood’s eyes. I had never been around such a teary person before, and I didn’t know how to help. A half hour later, the woman walked out of the store clutching the box and smiling from ear to ear. “Thank you again,” she said. “And please let me know if I can help you in any way with your baby’s christening. I owe you so much; I would welcome any opportunity to repay your kindness.”

I stood there with a gaping mouth. I guess Rosie was already getting the word out.

“Becky, would you mind tending the store on your own for a little bit? I’m going to pay the reverend a visit. I’ll be back with lunch,” Rosie said. She walked out the door without giving me a chance to answer.

I watched her walk down the block. She had a real bounce to her step again, but I felt like I was teetering on the edge of a cliff. I knew in my heart, the only way to stop this christening was to confess to all of my lies. Tugging on that thread might unravel the cloth that held the three of us together. I couldn’t take that chance.

“Well, Baby Girl, it looks like you are going to be baptized.”

CHAPTER 18