The Street of the City (28 page)

“Well, perhaps not,” said the nurse. “Still I think the memory of what happened in the night might be hard to forget.”

“I don’t feel that way,” said Frannie thoughtfully. “I think there is great comfort in the knowledge that the police could get here so quickly in any time of need. And then—Nurse Branner, don’t you think God may have had something to do with taking care of us?”

“I surely do,” said the nurse in a fervent tone. “And I guess He always takes care of His own that way, whether there are any police around or not. Only sometimes, He does use the police.”

“Of course,” said Frannie.

Then they suddenly looked at the clock and found they had to hurry to get Frannie off on time.

So, with two policemen wandering around the backyard and a big hole in their back cellar wall, Frannie had to get on the bus and go quietly to her work in the city. As she settled herself in the bus she cast an anxious glance back and a quick, trustful prayer upward for protection of her dear ones. Another hard day to go through, and she needed to keep empowering herself that she might be calm and keep her mind on her work.

Two or three times she wondered what Willoughby would think if he knew what had been going on, but she quickly chided herself for that thought. With his innate courtesy, of course, he would have wanted to do something about it right away for her reassurance and her comfort. But she mustn’t let that longing for his presence well up in her heart. It was a good thing he was not at home and could not possibly find out about last night, for it would just have been another excuse for his protection, and she knew very well she had no right to expect protection from him, nor to think of him as in any way her property. She was a working girl and as such was beginning to experience some of the annoyances and anxieties that other working girls in the days of war probably had to experience. She must just take things day by day as they came and try to remember some of the wonderful things that had been said in that Bible class Monday night.

Nothing can possibly come to one who is God’s own child, that God does not permit. And even though it may be hard to bear, and seem to be a calamity, whatever it is it will work out for good and to the purpose of God. For that purpose is to make His redeemed ones into the image of His Son Jesus Christ.

So when there was a moment of time she cheered her heart with these thoughts.

Willoughby hadn’t told her just how long he would be gone. Perhaps he didn’t know himself. There were many secrets and mysteries in these days about the movements of any man connected with war work. He would come back when he came, and maybe—her heart shrank from the thought—maybe he would not come back at all. It was perfectly thinkable that he might be transferred to another place or country hastily, with no time even to come back and say farewell to anyone, even his closest friends. Well, here was something that was possible and she must be quite prepared for it. Why should it matter to her? He was only a casual acquaintance who had been kind to her.

For three days this went on, and then the fourth night when she got home there was her mother sitting up in the big chair in the living room!

“Mother dear!” she exclaimed, rushing swiftly over to the chair to kiss her. “Oh, this is good, so good!” And there were actually tears of joy on her face.

A little later there was a knock at the door, and there stood the young man from the agency where they had rented the brick house. Frannie opened the door and let him in, glad that her mother was back in a sheltered corner behind the piano and wouldn’t feel the draft from the door.

“I just stopped by,” said the young man, “to tell you the deal’s all off for the sale of the house. The fella that wanted it has gone to jail for a good long term, enemy alien, and the deal’s off. You can go on staying here as long as you want. The owner telegraphed this morning he didn’t wantta sell, anyway. So you don’t need to worry.”

Frannie gave the young man a bewildered look.

“But of course we understood the house was not to be sold,” she said with dignity.

“Yes, but I stopped by last week and told the lady somebody was buying the house, and you’d havta get out. But now that’s all off. You can stay!”

Then Nurse Branner stepped forward.

“Yes, I am the lady you saw when you called last week. I understand. And now, did you bring that contract? I don’t think we’d care to stay here any longer without it. Not after the way you’ve acted. Did you bring the contract?”

Frannie turned a frightened look at the nurse, and Mrs. Fernley rose from her chair and stood watching the young man alertly.

“Why no, ma’am. I didn’t bring any contract, but the owner said you could stay.”

“Very well, then you can bring a contract. Make it out for a year. Don’t you think so, Frannie?”

“Why of course,” said Frannie, catching the idea quickly. “We certainly wouldn’t want to have any uncertainty about it. There are other houses we can get. I saw one today.”

“Why yes, ma’am. You can have a contract. I’ll bring it around tomorrow night. I’ll have it all fixed up for you to sign.”

“All right,” said the nurse firmly, “you may bring it, and in the meantime we’ll talk it over and decide whether we want the house for another year. You know there are a lot of things about it that need fixing, repairs on the roof and so on. We’ll talk it over. You bring the contract and we’ll see. The quicker, the better.”

“Why, I could go back to the office tonight and get a contract,” suggested the alarmed clerk. He knew he had overstepped himself in trying to break the lease with these people in the first place and didn’t want them to move away and leave him to bear the blame.

After the young man had gone, the Fernleys turned in bewilderment to Nurse Branner.

“What is it all about, Nurse?” asked Mrs. Fernley.

“Well, Mrs. Fernley, you just sit down in your comfortable chair and I’ll tell you all about it. That’s it. Now pull that afghan over your knees again and don’t look so frightened. Nothing has really happened, and nothing is going to. I may have overstepped my rights, perhaps, in talking to that washed-out youth, but when he came here last week and tried to tell me that you had to move by the seventh I felt it was up to me to keep you from finding out anything about it until I had a chance to inquire into things and find out what your rights were. I meant to tell you last night about it, Frannie, but I forgot entirely with all the things we were doing. I did try to call up a lawyer I know to ask him, but he was out, down in Washington on business, and I thought it wouldn’t matter if we waited a few days till you were able to think about things, Mrs. Fernley. But now it seems to have settled itself, and of course in case you want to stay here, I suppose you can almost make your own terms. Demand a few repairs, you know, or something like that. If you ask me I think that youth is plenty scared at what he did, telling you to move when he had no orders from the owner, and I guess he’ll be as reasonable as you want him to be.”

“Why, that’s all right, of course, Nurse. You always know the right thing to do, I’m sure, and we’re very much obliged to you for taking the initiative in our interest, aren’t we Frannie?”

“Yes indeed, Mother. Nurse Branner has been simply wonderful. I don’t know what we would have done without her.”

So the matter was smoothed over, and they talked a little of the different houses that were to be had, deciding from what they knew of rents that the brick house was really the only one they could afford. And then suddenly in the middle of their talk the young agent arrived back breathless with a crisp new contract. After reading it carefully they finally signed it, and Frannie drew a breath of relief as he rode away on his bicycle.

“Well, the house, such as it is, is ours for a year,” she said as she locked the door.

“Yes, and that clause that allows you to sublet in case you find something more suited to your purpose will help, too,” said the nurse.

“Yes, I’m glad you suggested that, Nurse Branner,” said Mrs. Fernley. “I’ve thought of that possibility several times.”

And so, quite contented, they all went to bed and to sleep.

The weather was mild for several days, and the thick ice broke up and floated away down the river to the sea. The beauty of the great silver street was gone, the skating was gone. Would it come again before another year? Frannie wondered as she rode daily to her work and sighed a little. She loved to skate.

Lady Winthrop took advantage of the mild weather to drive over and call on the Fernleys, and it happened that Mrs. Fernley was downstairs, doing a little mending, carefully watched over by the nurse who wouldn’t let her work long at a time.

Bonnie, always wanting to do whatever her mother or sister were doing, sat near on a little stool painstakingly sewing two patches together, which she asserted were for a quilt for her doll.

Lady Winthrop had brought a roasting chicken, all stuffed and ready for cooking, a basket of apples from her farm, some sweet potatoes, and two jars of fruit for the invalid. She settled down like an old friend and talked. The two ladies had a delightful hour together and told each other bits of their life history until, when the car came back for Lady Winthrop, they felt very well acquainted and Frannie’s mother had promised to bring Bonnie and come over with Frannie to the next Bible class, if she was allowed to go out so soon.

“I’ll send the car over for you,” called back the dear Lady Winthrop happily, as if she were taking to an old friend.

“Oh, but I shall soon be able to walk,” said the other woman, with a pleasant ring to her voice and a light in her eyes. “That isn’t far.”

So when Frannie came home that night there was good cheer in the brick house, the smell of roasting chicken, and a dish of big red apples on the table in the living room. It seemed almost cheerful as she entered, and she was able to put aside her sad thoughts about how lonely she was every day with no young people around with whom she felt like being friendly. Well, perhaps she would find some congenial companions at the plant pretty soon; that is, when things at home were going well and Mother was up and around all the time to make home a place where she could bring some girls now and then. That would be nice.

So she entered into the gala spirit, enjoying the chicken and sweet potatoes and fruit with the rest. It was almost as pleasant as it had been when they first arrived in the house and felt that they were anchored for a while and were going to be happy, as happy as they could be without the husband and father who had been so much to them all.

Frannie was congratulating herself that she had scarcely thought all day of the young Mr. Willoughby who had been such a delightful companion before he went away. He hadn’t said he was not returning, just said he didn’t know how long he had to stay. So perhaps he knew there was a possibility that he would not be sent back. Perhaps Washington had some bigger, more important job for him, and she was glad if that were so, for his sake, but she sighed a little that perhaps she would never see him again. And to cover up that sigh she smiled.

“It’s so good to have you down at the table again, Mother dear!” she said happily.

And the mother smiled.

“Yes, it’s nice to be down,” said the mother.

“Are you warm enough?” asked the nurse. “Wouldn’t you like Bonnie to run up and get your little shoulder shawl?”

“Well, perhaps I would feel more comfortable with it,” said the invalid. “Isn’t it getting colder again?”

“Why yes,” said Frannie, looking up from her unconscious absorption. “I noticed it on the way home. I had to turn up the collar of my coat. My, wouldn’t it be nice if it would get cold again and the river would freeze over? I promised Bonnie I’d try to find my old skates and teach her to skate.”

“Oh well, it will be time enough for that next year,” said the mother. “I don’t believe it will freeze solidly again after melting off entirely this way. That wouldn’t be likely to happen.”

“It might,” said the nurse. “It does sometimes. I can remember one winter in my girlhood when it did that three times before spring, but of course that was unusual. Still, it isn’t late in the winter yet, and I read somewhere that this was going to be an unusually cold winter. That would be nice for you, Frannie. You really need the exercise you get skating back and forth to work. And, of course, you can’t walk all that way.”

Frannie looked up, smiled, and was about to burst into eagerness, but then she suddenly remembered. She had promised Val Willoughby she would not skate down to her work while he was gone. Surely that promise would not be binding indefinitely. He had spoken as if he were returning soon when he said good-bye, but suppose he never came back. Surely she would not have to refrain from skating the rest of her days. How silly! If he never came back he would have nothing more to do with her, and of course she had a right to do as she pleased.

But from that moment the hope that the ice might return lost its thrill. Certainly she didn’t want to go skating without him so soon after her promise, even if he did not come back this winter.

So she plunged into the ceremony of dishwashing with vigor, making a game out of it with Bonnie for helper, and tried to forget the ice and all the nice evenings and mornings she had spent on it, for somehow they seemed to be running away from her with a sort of a hopelessness that she could not conquer.