The Hired Girl(84)

I bore her scolding without fretting, because the truth was I wasn’t listening. I was thinking about David.



Tuesday, September the fifth, 1911

Today was a very irritating day. But there! I begin too many entries in this book with “today.” I’ll start over.

I am not in a good humor this evening. (I don’t think that’s any better.) I sinned, to begin with, and I didn’t even enjoy it. I suppose that’s what it means when they talk about miserable sinners.

The way I sinned was I skipped instruction with Father Horst. I wasn’t sure he’d be willing to see me, not after last week’s quarrel and my missing Mass. I thought he might rebuke me or even send me away. But the sinful part was I wanted to meet Mimi so I could ask her not to tell Mrs. Rosenbach about seeing David and me in the park. And I wanted to buy a new dress, because it’s getting cooler and my uniforms are summery, and the stains from the pastels didn’t come out of my blue dress. My apron covers them, but the dress isn’t perfect anymore. I always want to have my clothes be nice, but then I rip them or stain them and I never feel the same about them after that.

So there was that. The morning began all wrong because I overslept, and Malka was in a bad humor because she tried to put a shoe over her bunion, which was a mistake. Now the bunion is throbbing again, and she’s in agony. Also, she’s sulking because she wants an electric carpet sweeper. It’s the latest thing, and her sister, Minna, has one. It doesn’t just brush the carpet; it sucks the dust right out. Mrs. Rosenbach doesn’t believe in it, so she refused to order one. That meant I had to hear about all the years Malka’s worked for this family and the sacrifices she’s made on their behalf.

I felt sorry for Malka, but I thought she would never stop talking so I could get out of the house. My conscience irked me because I thought a really nice girl would have sacrificed her afternoon off to spare Malka’s bunion. But I’d planned to meet Mimi at the store, and I wanted that new dress. So I left Malka close to tears and making doomed noises in Yiddish.

I caught the streetcar and met Mimi at Rosenbach’s. We went shopping and I spent nine dollars and twelve cents, which is dreadful. And what’s worse, I’m not sure I like what I bought. I bought a brown suit, and I don’t really like brown, no matter how well it wears. Mimi can call it fawn-colored all she likes, but it’s still brown. I wish I’d bought the blue one, but the skirt was too short and I’m sick of blue.

I wanted to buy a jumper suit, because it seems to me that they’re cheaper than shirtwaist suits. But Mimi said I needed a good shirtwaist suit, German linen or serge, and two white waists: one plain with tucks, and another with lace. She says my uniform dresses make me look like a hired girl, but I’ll look like a lady in a good shirtwaist suit.

I gave in to her because she really does know about clothes. And the brown suit was a bargain and it fit nicely. If it weren’t brown, I’d be pleased with it. The skirt has eleven gores and flares at the hem, and the jacket has little arrow decorations on the sleeves, which are fancy. I found a plain pleated shirtwaist for thirty-nine cents, and a lacy one for ninety-five cents. Then Mimi made me buy a new pair of gloves. Mine are white, and she said I needed tan ones. That was another eighty-three cents.

I was shocked when she added up all the prices for me — she is surprisingly quick when she adds numbers in her head. But then she said I needed a new hat, because my Cheyenne hat is summery. The new hat is trimmed with brown velvet ribbon and three pinky-brown roses, or maybe they’re meant to be peonies.

Then Mimi said I ought to have a little bit of jewelry — a brooch or a necklace with a little cross. The little crosses were quite cheap, but I told her I was a Catholic and I didn’t want a cross but a crucifix. I thought perhaps that might be a moment when I could tell her a little about the True Faith. I started to, but she saw a case full of bracelets and we went over to look at them. There was a silver bracelet I liked, but Mimi wrinkled her nose and said it was too plain. That surprised me because it was beautifully engraved with curvy scrolls and lilies of the valley.

In the same department, we stopped to examine a tray of watch lockets. They were enameled with tiny flowers and oak leaves and shamrocks. They were so delicate and bright; they reminded me of Thumbelina. The fronts were gold and enamel, but the backs were only silver, so I thought I might be able to afford one. I didn’t need it, of course, but I had this image of myself in all my new clothes and David asking me what time it was. I imagined myself bending my head beautifully — in the vision I had a swan-like neck — and lifting the watch so he could see. I think I must be crazy to have ideas like that, but I did, and it made me want one of those enameled watches terribly.