Sugar and Spice, page 11
Jimmy shook his head. “Where was it?”
She looked pointedly into his eyes. “Just across the south branch of the river, by the Clark Street docks.”
Jimmy inhaled sharply. “Where the tenement section is?”
She nodded. “That’s right. Some of the people there are descendants of the poor Irish in Conley’s Patch.”
“And you did charitable work there?” Jimmy looked at the dainty matron in awe.
“Not at first. I started out working in a soup kitchen near Harrigan’s. I’d go volunteer when I was off duty from the theater. I met a girl named Bridget Thornton. A very proud but desperate young woman trying to keep her family from starving.” She took a sip of tea. “We became dear friends. She taught me the plight of the proud but poor people of the Patch who wanted nothing but to make a living for their families. I’ll never forget my first sight of the Patch.” Mrs. Nelson pressed her lips together and moisture filled her eyes. “The shanties, the tiny yards. Dirt settled everywhere. The women worked constantly keeping it out of their homes. But worse than the dirt were the ditches that ran down the center of the streets. Raw sewage, garbage, even dead animals floated down the open sewers. Sometimes a child would fall into the ditch.”
“Oh yes.” Mr. Nelson seemed to be reliving a memory. He shook his head and took a sip of tea.
Mrs. Nelson reached over and patted her husband on the arm, smiling into his eyes. “Sam, dear, remember when you rescued Bridget’s little sister from the ditch?”
“You mean the time those little hooligans shoved her in? Oh, I remember, all right. We were both a mess. And the smell. . .” Mr. Nelson quirked his eyebrows and wrinkled his nose at the memory.
Mrs. Nelson grinned. “So I heard. But to continue, Bridget and I helped start a daycare so some of the single mothers could earn a living and married women could get jobs to supplement their husbands’ incomes. Some of the women ran the daycare while others got jobs in the city.”
Jimmy heard Cici give a soft sigh. He glanced her way. The smile she gave him was pinched. Unease knotted his stomach as he turned his attention back to Mrs. Nelson’s story.
“Bridget and I did what we could to raise funds for the child-care center. The troupe at Harrigan’s pitched in.” A cloud crossed Mrs. Nelson’s face. “Then the fire came.”
Mr. Nelson shared a long glance with his wife. “The Patch was completely destroyed.”
Jimmy could hardly imagine the devastation the poverty-stricken people must have felt. “What a tragedy. It must have been terrible for them.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Nelson whispered, “it was horrible. Not just for the Patch. Most of the city was destroyed or severely damaged. But my husband’s father pulled the people of the city together. There was plenty of work for whoever wanted it. The people worked hard. And the city was rebuilt, including housing for the lower-income people. Instead of shanties, tenement houses were built. There were paychecks for anyone who was willing to work.”
“But the people of the tenements are still poor.”
Danielle sighed. “Jesus said the poor would always be with us.”
“That’s right.” Mrs. Nelson nodded. “And just as it was before the fire, evil men often exploited the poor, paying them unfairly low wages. And then people moved from other areas and brought their problems with them. It is true. The poor will always be with us.”
“You have a heart to help people, Jimmy.” Mr. Nelson smiled. “Just as my wife did and still does.”
“What happened to your friend Bridget?” He wished he could take back the question as pain crossed her face.
“Bridget died a number of years ago. I kept in touch with her sister for a while. When she married and moved away, we lost contact.”
Jimmy glanced at Cici. Was that impatience in her eyes? Then she smiled. Jimmy breathed with relief. She’d been disturbed by the sad story. That was all.
“Thank you for telling me about the Patch, Mrs. Nelson. And I’m very sorry you lost your friend.”
He leaned back and took Cici’s hand. It lay in his, cold and rigid.
❧
Cici stood facing Jimmy outside the parsonage door.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Jimmy’s concerned gaze cut through her. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” Tension, like a wound-up spring, threatened to burst any moment. Why did Mrs. Nelson have to tell her story? It was heartbreaking in one sense, but it also showed what a few people could do if they cared enough. Cici hated the feelings the stories had created in her. And she was pretty sure they’d had a strong effect on Jimmy.
“Are you sure?” His brow furrowed and he tucked a loose curl behind her ear.
“No! No, Jimmy, I’m not sure. In fact, I’m quite sure I’m not fine.” She jerked away from him.
A startled look crossed his face. “Honey, what is it? Why are you so upset?”
“I need to know, Jimmy. Have you made a decision about law school? I assumed you had, but you never really said for sure.”
He looked away then faced her again. “Let’s sit on the swing for a little while.”
With dread pounding at her, she sat beside him.
He took her hand and gazed into her eyes. “Cici, if I should decide not to, will you still marry me? Do you care for me enough to be the wife of a missionary?”
Her mouth quivered, and before she could stop them, tears began to roll from her eyes and down her cheeks. “So you’ve made your decision?”
“I didn’t say that, Cici.” He ran his thumb across her cheeks, wiping the tears away. “But I need to know if you’ll marry me either way.”
“I don’t know.”
Resignation crossed his face.
She felt as though a knife had pierced her heart. “I love you. I promise I do. But I don’t know if I can be a missionary’s wife, Jimmy.”
“But honey, it’s not like we’d be going far away. We’d be right here near those we love and. . .this is about doing what Jesus would want us to do.”
“And you believe He wants you to be a missionary to the poor.”
He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. “I thought so. I’m not sure anymore. I’m confused, Cici. And I don’t like it.”
“It’s because of me, isn’t it? It’s my fault you don’t know what you’re supposed to do.”
“No, of course not.”
“I think it is. I’ll try not to influence you, Jimmy. I have to think now. I love you.” Jumping up, she ran to the door, pushed her way through, and slammed it behind her.
❧
God, help me. Help me to at least give it a try.
Cici’s lips trembled and she pressed them together and forced a smile as Danielle opened the door of her home. “Hello. I hope I’m not late for the meeting.”
“Not at all. You are just in time. We’re about to begin.” With a big smile, Danielle motioned for her to come in. “I’m glad you decided to come.”
About twenty women crowded the parlor. Blake’s mother waved from across the room, and a woman sitting on a sofa moved over and made room for Cici. “Aren’t you Rev. Willow’s daughter?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Cici sat by the woman and smiled.
“Everyone, I’d like for you to meet Cici Willow.” Danielle looked around the room. “I believe her mother has agreed to be a part of our group as well but had other duties to fulfill today. Now if we could call the meeting to order. I believe Mary Baker has some news about a building.”
“Yes indeed.” A younger woman stood. “An empty church building, as a matter of fact. It has been abandoned for so long the owners were quite willing to let us use it free of charge. We will, of course, be responsible for the upkeep. There is no gaslight or electricity, so we’ll need to gather up lamps and kerosene to take over.”
Several women offered lamps. Danielle counted and wrote down the names.
“Are there any tables?” another woman asked.
“Yes, that’s the good thing. All their Sunday school tables are still there.” She grinned. “And even better, there’s a stove, so we won’t have to cook the soup elsewhere and transport it there.”
“We’ll need to find someone to bring wood,” Danielle said.
“I think my father-in-law might be willing to do that. I’ll ask,” Mrs. Baker said.
Plans were made about who would bring what ingredients.
“Now about the food baskets. . .” Danielle tapped a pencil against her chair.
“A man who owns a box company goes to our church.” Cici was happy to be able to make a contribution to the conversation. “He always gives away the imperfect ones that he can’t sell. They would work very well as containers for the groceries. Would you like me to check with him?”
“That would be wonderful, Cici.” Danielle smiled and made a notation.
“Oh, and one more thing.” Cici leaned forward. “My mother wanted me to extend an offer on behalf of her sewing circle to make socks and hats for you to include with the baskets.”
Murmurs and nods went around the room.
“That would be grand.” Mrs. Nelson smiled. “Winter will be here before we know it. Please extend our thanks to your mother and the ladies of her sewing circle.”
Warmth enveloped Cici as she returned the smile and nodded.
For an hour they planned; then they agreed to get together again on Tuesday.
Cici felt more peace as she rode home on the streetcar than she had since the dinner on Sunday. Maybe if Jimmy really did become a missionary, she could handle it. At least by getting involved with this project to help the people in the tenements, she’d find out.
Fifteen
An icy chill ran up Jimmy’s spine as he spotted Cobb and Sutton through the dusty window. He took a step back into the darkness then cautiously peered in once more.
They sat at a table in the far corner, laughing. Cobb turned up his mug and took a long swig of coffee.
Nausea hit Jimmy and he closed his eyes. Cobb, his friend, he’d thought. Could he have just run into Sutton? Maybe he was getting information for Jimmy. But reason told him otherwise.
Sutton stood and threw some coins on the table, said something, and headed for the door.
Jimmy ducked around the corner of the building until he heard the man’s footsteps walking off down the sidewalk. Anger rose in him. More at himself than at Cobb. He should have known better. Cobb had been Sutton’s main boy for years before Jimmy and Danni had fallen into their lives. He peered into the window once more.
Cobb stood and sauntered across the café. The door swung open. Cobb stood there, a look of shock on his face. “Hey, Jimbo.”
“Hi, Cobb, old friend.” He made no attempt to keep the anger from resonating from his voice. Cobb would know right away he’d seen them.
“You were right, Jimbo. I just ran into Sutton. Matter of fact, you just missed him.”
“Yeah, I know.” Jimmy narrowed his eyes. “What’s the big idea, Cobb?”
“What do you mean? I told you. . .” He stopped and shook his head. “Oh, what’s the use? All right, I knew Suttonwas out.”
“Why’d you lie to me? We’re supposed to be friends.”
Cobb huffed out a loud breath of air. “I didn’t figure you’d believe me that Sutton’s changed, that’s why.”
Jimmy laughed. “Changed? Sutton? Okay, Cobb, how’s he changed? Does he have a new type of crime ring going this time?”
“No, Jimmy, listen. He really has changed. You should hear him talk.” Cobb’s eyes were bright as he grabbed Jimmy’s shoulders. “He wants to help the people around here. Just like you do. He was happy when I told him what you were up to.”
Jimmy jerked away. “You really believe that, don’t you? Wake up. Sutton is the same rotten crook he’s always been.”
“Well, that’s a fine Christian way to talk.” Cobb’s face twisted and he narrowed his eyes. “Don’t give the man a chance. Just take it for granted he can’t change. And to think I’d almost decided maybe you were right about the God stuff. I was even thinking about going to church with you.”
Uncertainty wormed its way into Jimmy’s mind; then immediately he pushed it away. “Cici and I ran into Sutton at the theater. He hasn’t changed. He practically threatened Danni.”
“Why? What did he say?”
“He said. . . Well, it wasn’t so much what he said as the way he said it and the look he gave me when he said it.” He narrowed his eyes. “Believe me. He’s up to no good. At least where Danni and I are concerned.”
“Aw, come on, Jimbo. Can’t you admit you might be wrong? Give Sutton a chance. He wants to talk to you.”
“Sorry. Let him fool you if you want to, but I’m not having anything to do with him.”
“Okay, have it your way.” Cobb swung around and started down the sidewalk, then turned and faced Jimmy. “But Sutton’s a changed man, Jimbo. You’re gonna see.” Cobb stalked off down the street.
Jimmy sighed. Could Cobb be right? He turned and headed toward Clark Street and the streetcar line. No, Sutton was the same. He only hoped Cobb would see that before he got himself into trouble.
When Jimmy got home, he found Danni and Blake in the parlor. He dropped into a chair.
“Is something wrong?” Danni threw him a worried look. “It’s not Cici, is it?”
He inhaled and let the air out with a whoosh. “No, I went to the tenements to take some medicine to Mike. He’s been sick.”
“Oh, how is he?”
“He’ll be okay. But I saw Cobb with Sutton.” He relayed the conversation they’d had.
Danielle frowned. “Is it possible? Anyone can change, you know. Maybe Sutton found Jesus while he was in prison.”
“I don’t think so, Danni.” He hadn’t had a chance to tell Blake about his encounter with Sutton, as he’d intended. But Danielle had begun to go about alone again. They both needed to know. “I ran into Sutton while I was leaving the theater the other night.”
Danni’s hand trembled as she laid it on Blake’s.
He put an arm around her and drew her close. “What happened?”
“Well, he seemed threatening to me. But I may have been mistaken.” He went ahead and relayed the conversation word for word, describing Sutton’s attitude and expressions as well as possible.
Blake’s lips were tight. “Danielle, you need to stay near the house again.”
She jumped up and stomped her foot as her face crumpled. “I won’t let that man run my life. I’m not afraid of him.”
“Sweetheart, please.” Blake drew her down beside him again.
Jimmy’s heart felt like it would tear in two at his sister’s anguish. “Danni, please, just for a little while. Let me watch him for a while.”
“We’ll do better than that.” Anger tightened Blake’s face. “I’ll put a private detective on his tail. If he goes near her, the police will be there before he can make a move.”
“Well then, I won’t need to stay inside.” The hope in her eyes clutched at Jimmy and he glanced at Blake.
“No, sweetheart.” Blake brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. “You don’t want to take chances. Please stay inside until we know what he’s up to.”
“But what about the soup kitchen and food baskets?” Despair filled her voice.
“There are twenty or more women involved with it, Danni.” Jimmy’s reminder only brought a frown his way. “They can get by without you for a while.”
She sighed. “Very well. But this can’t go on forever. I won’t remain a prisoner in my own home.”
Jimmy thought of her words as he went up to his room. He intended to do everything in his power to make sure she wouldn’t be.
❧
The smell of cabbage and tomatoes assaulted Cici’s nostrils as she dipped soup from the large pot and filled another bowl. She handed it to an old woman who flashed a toothless grin and walked away. Cici stretched her back and looked toward the door. The line ran down the street as far as she could see. How could there be so many hungry people in this one neighborhood alone?
“Cici, dear,” Mrs. Baker called from the end of the food line, “could you get some bread out of the other room, please?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She gladly turned the soup ladle over to a woman walking by and headed for the back room. The smell of yeast wafted up from the stacks of long loaves of bread that stood on the table by the open window. She grabbed four loaves and carried them back to where Mrs. Baker stood with a sharp knife. “Would you like me to help slice?” She swiped the back of her arm across her damp forehead.
“No. Why don’t you relieve Dottie? She’s been standing over that cauldron for an hour now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She headed back to the kitchen and took over for the hefty woman who stood moving a big wooden spoon around the enormous pot.
“Be sure to keep stirring so it doesn’t stick.” The woman handed her the big wooden spoon and stepped over to the water barrel.
She did as she was told for another hour, dizzy from the overwhelming smell of cabbage, onions, and tomatoes swimming in beef broth until the last pot had been removed to the serving line. Cici grabbed a tin cup and filled it with water. She drank it all then went to relieve someone on the food line.
With so many of the women taking care of the food boxes, a handful of them were kept busy dishing up the food.
“Here, Martha, let me take over here. Go get yourself a cool drink.”
With a grateful look, the young girl relinquished her place by one of the soup pots.
Cici picked up the ladle. She scooped soup into a bowl and looked up.
A small boy, not more than six or seven, stood staring at her with rounded blue eyes. The hunger in those eyes nearly made her heart stop. She handed him the bowl, and when his hands wrapped around it, he grinned. “You sure are purty, miss.”
She smiled as warmth enveloped her heart. “Why, thank you. You’re pretty handsome yourself.”
