Dovetail(66)

“Why, that was John Lawrence. New guy who came to town to work at the mill that summer.”

The door to the bathroom slammed open, and Pearl came trudging back, faster than Kathleen would have thought possible, given her age and the walker. “Howard, we have to go,” she called out from eight feet away. “I don’t feel well. My stomach’s upset.”





CHAPTER FORTY-THREE





1916


Pearl walked into Trapp’s General Store with Alice’s list clutched in her hand and her younger sister Emma on her heels. Flour, sugar, salt, and other foodstuffs were written neatly on the piece of paper going from top to bottom. Pearl had no interest in baking or cooking, but she had a definite interest in leaving the house and going to town, and so she, along with Emma, had volunteered for this errand. Pearl was glad to have Emma come along. At eleven, she was old enough to be helpful in carrying the bags and young enough to see Pearl as an authority figure. Of all her younger sisters, Emma was the one most likely to agree to wander aimlessly through the town, window-shopping at other stores and looking over hair ribbons and fabric at the dry goods store. She would also be agreeable to making stops along the way home if the notion struck them. Furthermore, she could be trusted to keep her mouth shut about such things.

Helen would have balked at the idea of straying from an assigned task. She was way too serious-minded, thinking it frivolous to look at things they couldn’t afford. The twins weren’t a good choice either, as they never wanted to be separated. Too, the twins were apt to tell Alice of how they’d intentionally dawdled. Not that Alice would get angry or do anything exactly, unless one counted her wide-eyed look of disappointment upon their return.

That morning, as they’d left in the wagon with their father and John, Alice had called out to them, “Come right home afterward. I want to start baking the bread right away.”

“Goodbye, Alice!” Emma had called out.

Pearl held up the list. “I’ll make sure to get everything you want,” she added. Neither one promised to return home immediately, she’d thought with a small grin.

Now at Trapp’s General Store, Emma wandered off to look at the jars of candy while Pearl went straight to the front counter. “Good morning, Mrs. Trapp,” she said, pushing the list toward her. “Alice has sent me for supplies.”

Mrs. Trapp inspected Pearl over her glasses. “Good morning. And how is Alice these days? She almost never comes into the store anymore. I can only guess she’s very busy taking care of your large family.” This was the kind of conversation Pearl had no patience for: the inquiries of the health of family members, chitchat about the weather, and if the family planned to attend church functions. And why was Alice so often the focus of these tedious questions? It wasn’t as if she could be doing anything of interest. She cleaned the house, made the food, read the paper, and darned the socks, as well as doing countless other tedious chores. All while singing joyfully, as if she was oblivious to the fact that she was stuck in the middle of nowhere doing thankless work.

But Pearl knew enough to respond in a polite way. “Alice is fine, thank you. She sends her regards and hopes you and your family are well.” From there, Mrs. Trapp went down the line, asking about her father and the rest of her sisters. Pearl assured her all was fine with the Bennett family.

When Mrs. Trapp left with the list, heading to the back room to fill their order, Pearl tapped her fingers on the counter. Once they had the grocery order fulfilled and in the wagon, they’d be free to walk along the storefronts of Merchants’ Row. If they didn’t linger too long, their father wouldn’t get word of their digressions, and Alice would be none the wiser.

She’d been mentally planning their next course of action when the door swung open and Frank walked in, dressed in work clothes. She hadn’t imagined running into him during this outing, as his mother usually did the shopping. “Why, Frank!” she said, giving him her widest smile. “What a pleasant surprise. Are you doing the shopping today?”

He strode quickly to her side, then took her elbow and pulled her away from the counter, leaning in to whisper, “I saw you through the window and came in to speak with you.”

Pearl glanced over at Emma, who was daydreaming over maple hard candy and peppermint sticks. Mrs. Trapp was still in the back, out of earshot. “You wanted to talk to me?” Her first thought was that Frank, having been spurned by Alice, now had his sights set on her. This was not entirely a bad thing. Frank’s family had money, and Frank had shown himself to be a serious and generous beau. Alice hadn’t even acknowledged him as a suitor and he’d left her gifts of flowers and, knowing of her love of knitting, skeins of soft yarn in sky blue, her favorite color. She’d returned all the gifts, and in response he’d written her poetry, begging her to reconsider. Frank might be fun for a short while, even if he was Alice’s castoff.

“Yes,” Frank said, keeping his voice low. “It’s about John Lawrence. He’s not who he says he is. His real name is John Lawrence Robinson.”

Pearl didn’t really see the distinction. “So he doesn’t use his last name?”

“No, and this is why he hides behind a different name . . .” Frank leaned in so close, she could smell coffee on his breath. “His father is a murderer—killed a man in cold blood. He’s in prison for life and will never get out. Everyone in Gladly Falls knows about it.”