Sugar and Spice, page 8
“Yes, Peg in Dreamland. It was the only one he ever wrote professionally.”
Anger flared in Sutton’s eyes then was gone.
Had she imagined it?
He took a deep breath and seemed to study her. “That is very interesting, my dear. Perhaps you have entertained thoughts of acting as well?”
Now, how had he guessed that? She’d thought of hardly anything else since she’d met Michael O’Shannon and the Nelsons. That is, until Jimmy had told her about his intentions. Why couldn’t he have had stars in his eyes about the theater or something like that? Why did he have to be a missionary?
“Cecilia?”
She started, and heat washed over her face. “Oh, I beg your pardon. My thoughts wandered for a moment.”
“That’s quite all right, my dear.” He smiled.
“In answer to your question, I must admit the thought has crossed my mind. But of course it’s just nonsense. I could never be an actress.”
“Nonsense.” His eyes gleamed. “With your beauty and your lovely voice, you could be a star in no time. Perhaps you simply need the right contacts.”
“Sutton?” Gail leaned forward, a worried expression in her eyes.
He turned to her, his eyes darkening. “Yes, Gail, dear?”
“N–nothing.”
Was that fear in Gail’s eyes? But why?
He nodded and a chill went over Cici as he turned his attention back to her.
Oh, she was only being silly. Why would Gail be afraid of Sutton? They were very close friends.
Sutton called a waiter to refill their glasses. After the waiter had left, Sutton turned to Cici. “While I have focused my directing talents on European cities, I do happen to have several contacts who, I am quite certain, would love to help you find a place in the theater. That is, if you are interested.”
Heat washed over Cici. It started at the top of her head and slid downward until even her toes tingled. She stared at him. “Are you serious?”
“Very serious.” He took her hand. “Your loveliness would grace any stage, my dear.”
“But I’ve no experience. I’ve never acted in my life.”
He shrugged. “Acting can be taught. You have beauty and presence. That is enough to begin with.”
Visions swirled in her thoughts. Her? On the stage? Wearing beautiful dresses? Wined and dined by admirers, flowers thrown at her feet? But what would Mama and Papa say? This wasn’t something that could be hidden the way she had hidden her new friends. They would know.
Dread clutched at her stomach, pushing out the excitement that had shot through her a moment before. Mama and Papa would be mortified if word got around, which it surely would. But Danni had been on the stage. And Danni was a wonderful Christian. Mama and Papa were very old-fashioned. Not that there was anything wrong with that. But Sutton cleared his throat and she looked up, startled. “So what is your decision, my dear? Would you like me to look into this for you? It’s entirely up to you.”
Cici licked her lips. “Could I think about it awhile?”
“Of course.” He laughed. “There is no time limit, my dear. My theater contacts will not go away. Take all the time you like.”
❧
Jimmy stood by the dock, a large cloth-covered basket on his arm, and peered down the street. He put his hand above his eyes to shield them from the glare of the setting sun that had yet to slip below the horizon.
In the middle of the next block, a group of children huddled around something.
Jimmy couldn’t tell what. Laughter reached him and he breathed a sigh of relief.
A head popped up and looked his way, revealing Patrick’s grinning face. When he caught sight of Jimmy, he yelled and came running. By the time he reached Jimmy, the others had caught up with him. “Hey, Jimmy. Whatcha doin’ down here?”
“Whatcha got in the basket, Jimmy?”
A cacophony of shouts almost drowned each other out.
Jimmy laughed and looked into the basket. “Bread and soup beans. I had extra and wanted to share. Would you mind taking some home with you?”
At the sound of silence, he looked up into blank faces. One of the older boys turned and walked away. Another followed.
“Hey, Walter, where are you going? What’s wrong?”
Walter stopped and looked at Jimmy. “My pa’d skin me good if I came home with charity stuff.”
“What?” He glanced around. What had he done wrong? “Patrick?”
Patrick licked his lips and looked at the bread. He lifted his eyes to Jimmy’s. “Some of the pas don’t take nothin’ from no one.”
Marty Woods, a ten-year-old with a club foot, nodded and shifted on his crutch. “My pa says we may be poor, but we ain’t beggars.” He hobbled down the street and turned into a narrow alley.
Jimmy glanced around at the children who had remained. “I’m sorry if I’ve done something wrong. I didn’t know.”
Lily Rose, a seven-year-old, gave him a sweet smile. “It’s okay. Most of us don’t have pas.” She looked at the basket. “That bread smells mighty good.”
He divided the food between the few remaining children. “Hey, Patrick, where’s Mike and Bridget?”
“Bridget had to clean some fish heads someone gave her for soup. She won’t let Mike out of her sight since he ran away.”
“Well, there should be enough bread here for a couple of days. Does she know how to make beans?” He wasn’t taking anything for granted anymore.
“Sure, she makes the bestest beans in the world.” He reached a finger through his greasy locks and scratched.
Jimmy forced himself not to grimace as his scalp crawled in response to the sight. Did the boy have lice?
After the Bible story, the children shouted their good-byes and scattered.
Jimmy tromped to the bridge to catch the streetcar. He’d made a mistake today. It didn’t matter that he had good intentions. Why had he thought God had called him to feed the hungry and save their souls? It must have been his imagination. How could he help anyone when he had no idea what he was doing?
His heart lurched at the memory of Lily Rose’s tiny hand on his. And Patrick and the other children had sat still, their eyes wide as he told them the story of the boy Jesus in the temple.
Hope shot through him. He absolutely was called to help these people. He simply needed someone to guide him.
There used to be a church around here somewhere. Mama used to take him and Danni. They’d know the minds of these people. But where was it? Maybe Danni would remember. Yes. He’d ask Danni.
Eleven
“Thank you for inviting me to lunch, Danielle.” Cici smiled and sipped her tea.
“It’s my pleasure entirely, I assure you.” Jimmy’s sister put a cube of sugar in her cup and stirred. “I was so disappointed we didn’t get a chance to talk alone at the picnic.”
“Me, too. But I must admit I enjoyed Mr. O’Shannon’s, or rather Pops’s, colorful stories of his vaudeville days.”
Laughter exploded from Danielle’s lips. “I should warn you, the stories often vary in detail. I believe he may have forgotten which versions are the true ones. But he’s a wonderful man with a great big heart.”
“Yes, I’m sure he is.” Cici stirred her tea. Should she broach the subject of Danielle’s short acting career? Or would that be rude?
“Is something bothering you?” Danielle pursed her lips, and twin furrows appeared between her eyebrows.
“Oh no. I was just wondering. . .that is, I understand you and your husband were involved with the theater as well.”
“That’s right. We were for a short while. He wrote a musical comedy and I played the lead.” She grinned. “But then we fell in love and he decided he should return to law school and his father’s firm.”
“He quit law school, too? Like Jimmy?”
“Mm-hmm. He had his heart set on a career in music and the theater. He still loves it but soon came to realize he loved law just as much.” She grinned. “His mother was in a show once, too.”
“Really? Mrs. Nelson? I mean the senior one?”
“That’s the one. She was employed at Harrigan’s with her father until the fire wiped everything out. By that time, she realized all she really wanted to be was Sam Nelson’s wife. So she gave it all up.”
“He gave her an ultimatum?” Cici felt a spark of anger.
“No—goodness, no. Sam Nelson would have given Kathryn O’Shannon the moon if she’d asked for it. It was all her idea. When the theater was rebuilt, Pops went back though.”
“I don’t remember ever hearing of Harrigan’s. Is it still around?”
“No, I believe there’s a nightclub in that spot now. About five years after the fire, Harrigan and his Irish troupe began touring all over the United States and Europe. That’s when Pops gave it up. He didn’t want to leave his little grandson, Blake.” She smiled and winked. “They’ve always been very close.”
Cici took a sighing breath. “I had hoped Jimmy would return to law school.”
“Yes, me, too. In fact, I almost begged him. But if he really has a call of God on his life, we wouldn’t want to interfere, would we?” Danielle’s eyebrows lifted.
Huh. A twinge of guilt shot through Cici. She would interfere in a heartbeat if she thought it would do any good. And she wasn’t giving up yet. She took another deep breath and smiled. “I suppose not. But tell me, how could you stand to lay it all down? I mean, your career?”
“Oh dear. I have everything I want. Blake is the most important thing in my life, and now”—she smiled and leaned forward, close to Cici—“I’m going to have a baby in October.”
“Oh, how exciting. Does Jimmy know?”
“Yes, and he’s going to be a wonderful uncle. I know it.”
The clock on the mantel chimed twice. Cici smiled and stood. “I really must get back to the parsonage. I promised to help Mother mend choir robes this afternoon.”
“Oh dear, and I never got around to asking you.”
“Asking me what?” Cici’s heart pounded. Had Danielle found out about Gail? But how?
“My church ladies’ benevolence group has agreed to sponsor Jimmy’s charitable activities in the tenement district.” She stood and faced Cici. “We’re going to open a soup kitchen down near the Clark Street docks in the near future. When we get more information about the families, we’ll be distributing food baskets. I thought perhaps you might like to be involved.”
Cici relaxed and smiled. She wasn’t really that excited about the idea, but she would have agreed to anything just now. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”
“Good, then that’s settled. Our first meeting is next Tuesday. I’ll pick you up in the carriage.” She gave Cici a wide grin. “Blake won’t let me touch his Ford, and personally I think it’s way too loud anyway.”
On the way home, Cici stared out the streetcar window and frowned. How did she let herself get talked into working with the poor? But there was one thing in its favor. Perhaps if she got to know more about the people Jimmy was so concerned about, she’d get some ideas of how to change his mind. After all, she was only thinking about his future. He’d thank her someday. She leaned against the seat and smiled. Yes, this was a good thing.
❧
The little church stood, small and obscure, between two tall buildings, its stones black from grime. Danni said she came here a few years ago. The pastor was new, but he was kind. Perhaps, living in this area, he would understand the people.
Jimmy gave a short laugh. He’d spent the first twelve years of his life here. But after they’d gone to live with Sutton, everything had changed. They were kept pretty close and weren’t allowed out much except for the games, sometimes. And then they were in groups. Most of the time, the games were inside. A queasiness came over Jimmy. Games, Sutton called them. Lessons in stealing, that’s what they were.
Jimmy knocked on the door. The sun bored into his shoulder blades.
“Come on in. Door’s open.” The shout echoed from somewhere inside.
Jimmy turned the doorknob and pushed open the door. The smell of paint assaulted his nostrils. The room was dark, shaded by the tall buildings on each side. Benches stood in rows. Pretty rickety. Most of them looked like they were on their last legs. Jimmy scanned them, frowning. Why hadn’t anyone fixed them?
“Be right there.” The words issued from a narrow door standing open at the rear of the room.
A moment later, a man stepped through. His overalls were spattered with white paint. He came forward, his hand outstretched. “Hello, I’m Brother Paul Norell. How may I help you?”
Jimmy shook the man’s hand. “Jimmy Grayson. I work on the docks.”
“Grayson.” A thoughtful expression crossed his face. “Sounds familiar. Have we met?”
“No, sir. I believe you met my sister, Danielle, a few years ago.”
His face lit up. “Of course. Danielle Grayson. And you are her younger brother. She mentioned you.”
“Yes. I hope I haven’t come at an inconvenient time. I hurried over here when we broke for lunch.”
“Not at all. I was about to take a break from painting the kitchen anyway. You’ve given me the excuse I needed. Here, let’s sit.” He led the way to a bench up near the pulpit. When they were seated, Brother Paul smiled. “We’re not likely to be disturbed. My wife is out replenishing our larder, and seldom does anyone come during the noon hour.”
“Er. . .Brother Paul. . .” Jimmy hesitated at the unfamiliar terminology.
“Jimmy, please feel free to call me Paul. We don’t stand on formality.”
“Paul, then.” Jimmy grinned then paused. “I believe I’m called to do missionary work among the people of this area.”
Interest sparked in Paul’s eyes and he nodded. “Go on.”
As Jimmy shared the things on his mind and heart, lightness seemed to lift him from the helplessness he’d walked in the past few days. When he’d finished, relief washed over him and he glanced at Paul.
Paul blew a puff of air from between pursed lips. “Jimmy, you’ve learned one of the first lessons necessary for ministering to poverty-stricken people. I don’t speak of the bums who think the world owes them a living, but people who want with all their hearts to take care of themselves. The only thing they have is their faith in God and their self-respect. As long as they can set a meal on the table for their families, they can keep both. And we mustn’t ever intrude on that no matter how much we want to help. Because once they lose their self-respect, their faith soon follows, and after that there’s nothing for them to do but give up in despair. Do what you can to protect their self-respect.”
“Then what can I do to help them?”
“Pray for them. Feed the children whenever possible. Help those widows and abandoned mothers. Be ready to give an encouraging word to the men, and if an opportunity to help without breaking them should arise, follow the Lord’s leading. Assist them to find jobs whenever possible. Most of them will work extra when the chance comes. Do what you can to stop the unfair wages and working conditions. Let God love and help them through you.” He paused and took a deep breath. “It isn’t easy, Jimmy. Your heart will be broken over and over again. And your patience will be tested time and time again. Be very sure, my friend. And remember, God loves these precious people more than you do. I’ll be here to encourage you, pray for you, and help you in any way I can.”
“Thank you, Paul. I do have one other question. My sister’s church is thinking about opening a soup kitchen and distributing food baskets. Do you think that’s a bad idea?”
“On the contrary. It’s a very good idea. You will be there for those who want and need help. But you won’t be intruding on those who don’t. Even the proudest of men will not likely object to their families having bowls of soup for their midday meals as long as they aren’t brought into the homes and put before their faces.” An eager smile appeared on his face. “I’d like very much to help with this project in any way I can.”
Jimmy went back to work with a clearer idea of what was before him and a sense of direction. He’d make mistakes. No doubt of that. But he could see the path now, and having Paul’s prayers in addition to Rev. Willow’s gave him a sense of peace he hadn’t had before.
And faith. Paul’s comments about the men and their faith in God had impressed him. If these poor men could have faith in God in their situations, he could certainly learn to trust the Lord in his. And Paul had said the same thing Rev. Willow had. God loved these people more than he did. He would be there to lead and guide in this endeavor.
Two small girls waved from a dingy hallway where they were weaving colored strips of fabric through each other’s hair.
“Hi, Jimmy. Where you going?”
Now, what was her name? Oh yes. “Back to work, Brenda. You sure look pretty today. And you look pretty, too, Janey Lee.”
Both girls giggled. “Thanks for the cheese and apples you gave us.” The little brunette grinned, and the other, with stringy blond hair, nodded and smiled.
“You’re very welcome, Janey Lee. You too, Brenda. See you later.”
“See you later, Jimmy,” Janey Lee shrilled.
“See you later, Jimmy,” Brenda echoed.
❧
Why did Danni keep looking at him like that? She’d been throwing him furtive glances all during dinner.
“Is something wrong, Danni?”
She bit her lip and pink slid over her face. She gave a little shake of her head and focused on the enormous slice of chocolate cake that had already shrunk to half its size.
Jimmy shrugged. His imagination more than likely. He resumed his narrative of his midday conversation with Paul Norell.
“That’s interesting, Jimmy.” Blake, always the encourager, had been on Jimmy’s side from the beginning in spite of his disappointment that his brother-in-law wouldn’t be practicing law with him. “My father told me a story once about his experiences with the Chicago poor before the great fire, especially immigrants. Many people, including Dad, were under the false impression that they were shiftless people. He discovered most of them weren’t. Rather, they were hardworking people forced to live and work under abominable conditions. Things aren’t as bad now as back then, but it’s still very hard for poor people to earn a living there.”
