Spindle(57)

They began where they ended the previous night, with the Crossed and Uncrossed scissors game. Wheeler came in late, but the circle opened up to allow him in. He smiled and waved as he moved in his chair across from Briar, and they started passing the scissors around.

Twenty minutes later when the boys still weren’t figuring out the trick, the girls began exaggerating their motions to give hints. Finally, Nell crossed her legs and said “crossed” then uncrossed her legs and said “uncrossed.” And if that wasn’t enough, the next girl crossed her ankles, saying “crossed” then uncrossed her ankles and said “uncrossed.”

George smacked his forehead. “It’s the legs, not how you pass the scissors.”

The laughter from George’s comments set the tone for the rest of the night. Briar let go and allowed herself to be just a girl instead of a caretaker of her siblings, an operative at the mill, or the guardian of a dangerous spindle.

At the end of the night she walked Wheeler to the door, like she used to do.

“I had a good evening,” Wheeler said.

“Me, too.”

“It was like old times.”

“Mm-hmm,” she agreed, and yet it was and it wasn’t like old times. She’d had fun, but so much had changed since they were together. Briar felt like she had grown, gained some perspective. Had he?

Wheeler walked out to the porch, almost the last guest to leave. He lingered. “You look nice tonight. I found myself wishing we’d land at the same table, but we never did. Maybe another time?”

To Briar’s shock, when she tried to answer, she teared up. She blinked rapidly, afraid of smudging the soot Mim had so carefully placed on her eyelashes. But it was no good. He seemed like his old self, playing games and having fun, but not showing Briar much deference over anyone else, despite what he said. She got the impression any girl could sit by his side and he’d be content. It didn’t have to be Briar. She fled back inside. “Good-night,” she called over her shoulder as she ran down the hall.

If only Mim hadn’t planted the idea of crying into her mind. She never cried. At least not in front of Wheeler. How ridiculous to cry when a boy says you look nice.

Ethel caught Briar at the base of the stairs. “What happened?” she asked.

Briar pulled out a handkerchief and began wiping Mim’s hard work off her face. It felt wrong to dress up for Wheeler now, but how could she explain that? They weren’t the same together, and she didn’t think she wanted them to be. She had the chance to put everything back together for the children, just what she’d been working toward, and now she didn’t know if she could sacrifice her happiness for it. Tears welled up and she blinked them away. If she had the opportunity to save the children, shouldn’t she do it? What kind of sister would she be if she didn’t?

“Well?” Mim joined them in the hallway. “I could hear the party down the street.” She narrowed her eyes as if trying to examine Briar in the dim light. “Didn’t I tell you not to cry?”

Briar’s lower lip started to tremble.

Mim pulled her into the parlor where they could sit down. “What happened?” Mim’s voice was soft, sympathetic.

Briar rested her head on Ethel’s shoulder and took a deep breath. “The feeling was different. But how can I walk away from keeping the children together?”

“Listen, honey.” Mim grasped her hand. “You’ve got three siblings counting on you and you almost had a home secured for them. That’s why I’m so willing to help you find out if you two can work it out. Don’t feel guilty about wanting to be happy, too. Wheeler isn’t the only eligible bachelor out there.”

Ethel stroked Briar’s back. “If you both still care for each other, it’ll take some time. You can’t go back to where you were overnight.” She stilled her hand. “But don’t force something that’s not there. You’ll only regret it.”

The other girls of the boardinghouse were restoring order to the parlor when the front door banged open. A grisly young man burst through and staggered into the house. “Lola? Lola! Show yourself.”

All the mill girls looked at one another with wide eyes. There was no one named Lola living there.

Miss Olive came from nowhere and blocked his passage into the parlor. “Sir, you must leave now.” When he took a step closer she wrinkled her nose. “You’ve been drinking. Out you go.”

Ethel leaned back and hid behind Briar.

“Don’t worry,” Briar reassured her. “Miss Olive won’t let him in.” She’d never seen Ethel afraid before.

By now, Miss Olive had managed to maneuver the stranger back to the front door, but he wedged himself in the door frame so that she couldn’t close it.

“I’m not leaving until I’ve seen her. Lola! I know you’re here. I found you. You can’t hide from me.” The commotion he made was so loud it had to be echoing out onto the streets.

Ethel began to tremble and Mim looked at Briar with raised eyebrows. Wheeler and two other men returned to the house to assist Miss Olive.

Meanwhile, one of Ethel’s temperance friends addressed the girls. “This is a prime example of what we are talking about. This man is obviously under the influence of the drink and can’t be reasoned with. This poor Lola would be glad to be away from him in this state. Heaven help her if he finds her. For her sake we should double our efforts. If you haven’t signed a pledge yet, come forward now and add your name to the cause.” She waved the petition in the air.