Suitor by Design Page 3

  Peter looked her way, and she darted behind a nearby maple. Peeking around the trunk, she noted that the two men continued their conversation. Neatly trimmed dark hair peeked from under the brim of the driver’s hat. From the way the hair gleamed, he must use a treatment. One of those nice-smelling ones, she imagined. She hugged her gloved hands to her chest, torn between wishing he would turn around so she could see his face and terrified that he’d turn around and see her spying on him.

  She chewed on the fingertip of her glove.

  The man acted as if he knew Peter. The two laughed, and then the man clapped Peter on the back. They shook hands, and the man climbed into his car. He was leaving? Then he couldn’t have car trouble, at least not bad enough to leave the vehicle at the garage.

  As the man backed the car away from the building, the sun reflected off a thick gold band on his finger. Minnie squinted. A ring! Oh, no. Worse, it was his left hand. The car turned, and she saw his hand clearly. What a relief. The ring was on the pinkie, not the ring finger.

  Minnie slid around the tree as the man drove down the side street. She didn’t get a good look at his face, so she couldn’t tell if he was handsome or not, but he didn’t seem terribly old. The car turned left on State Road and headed out of town. He was leaving, and she would never know who he was or why he’d come to Pearlman.

  She pressed a cheek to the prickly bark. Why did every opportunity elude her? For ages she’d pined after Reggie Landers, although he not only wasn’t interested in her, but he’d also gone and gotten engaged to that nasty Sally Neidecker, who bossed Minnie around as if she was the mistress of the house. Mrs. Neidecker was much kinder and even gave Minnie a little extra money at Christmastime. Still, Minnie longed for the day when she wouldn’t have to clean houses.

  This man could have been her chance.

  She bit her lip. Maybe he still could be. If he knew Peter, he might come back. Moreover, Peter could tell her if he was married or not. A smile settled in place. Peter liked her. With a little encouragement, she could get him to tell her anything.

  She flounced across the street, passed by the fueling pump and stepped into the office of the motor garage. The nasty smell nearly sent her right back out. Grease. Exhaust. She fought the urge to press a handkerchief over her nose.

  No one was in the office area, if it could be called that. The tiny room had lots of shelves and hooks filled with automobile parts, like belts and hoses and stuff that Jen would love but Minnie didn’t recognize. A single desk with a small cash register and a messy pile of papers dominated the room. To the left, an open doorway led to the work area. A couple of cars filled the dirty space, but Minnie couldn’t see Peter. He must be underneath or inside a car.

  Should she wait or call out for him? As she nibbled on the glove and debated what to do, she happened to notice that the papers on the desk were work orders and bills. If the man needed work on his car, then one of these might have his name on it. She turned the top piece of paper around. No, that wasn’t it. Mr. Kensington’s name was at the top.

  “Can I help you?” Peter said.

  “Oh!” Minnie jumped away from the desk, paper still in hand. “I was just...” She didn’t have a good explanation, but maybe a smile would distract him from the fact she’d been snooping. She slipped the paper behind her skirt and gave him her biggest smile. “I thought maybe we could talk.”

  “About what?” Peter stood in the open doorway between the office and the work area, rubbing his hands on a filthy old rag.

  “That rag must be putting more dirt on your hands than taking it off.”

  “You came all the way here to tell me that?”

  “No.” She gave him another smile, swished in front of the desk and covertly replaced the invoice on the desktop. “I wondered what kind of car that was.”

  “What car?”

  “The one your friend just drove away in.”

  “A Pierce-Arrow.”

  “Ah.” Minnie noted that he didn’t contradict her assumption that the driver was a friend of his. “It looks expensive.”

  “It is.”

  “Your friend owns it?”

  Peter looked suspicious. “Why do you want to know?”

  “No particular reason. Just making conversation.” Out of the corner of her eye, Minnie saw the invoice slip off the stack. Before it slid to the floor, she nudged it toward the center of the desk. Though Peter hadn’t answered her question, he hadn’t contradicted her assumption, either. That was good enough for her. Now all she needed to know was his marital status. “Is your friend staying long?”

  “Just the night. Why?”

  “I just figured you would want to talk with him. You know, catch up on family and all.”

  Peter didn’t bite. “What are you getting at?”

  This time Minnie couldn’t explain away the heat in her cheeks, so she stared at her feet. “Just wondered who the stranger was. We don’t get many newcomers in Pearlman, especially someone with such a fancy car.”

  “Vince is an old friend from New York. He used to help out at the—” he hesitated, and his neck flushed red “—at the orphanage.”

  “Like volunteer work?” Maybe this Vince was like Pastor Gabe and his sister. They did a lot of work for the orphan society that had sent Peter and a handful of other orphans to Pearlman almost four years ago.

  “I suppose he volunteered, but I don’t really know. It didn’t matter to the kids if a person was paid or not.”

  “Oh.” Embarrassed, Minnie struggled to turn the conversation back in the right direction. “But he became your friend.”

  Peter smiled at that. “He taught me carpentry.”

  Relieved, Minnie seized the opening. “He’s a carpenter? He doesn’t look like one.” The only carpenter she knew dressed in work clothes and drove a Model T truck. “Is that his regular job?”

  “I don’t know. Why all the interest in Vince?”

  Minnie had come too close to revealing what she wanted. “Oh, just curious. It gets so dull here that anything new is welcome.” She tossed him another smile. “Besides, he did a good job teaching you carpentry. You make beautiful furniture.”

  He beamed. “I like working with wood. It’s kinda creative. More’n fixing cars.” He flushed again. “I mean, more than fixing cars.”

  In a way, Minnie appreciated that he tried to speak correctly around her, but it made him nervous, and a nervous Peter wouldn’t divulge what she needed to know.

  “I’m glad he taught you. Be sure to thank him for me and for my father. Daddy appreciates the bed table that you made for him. The casters make it easy to move into place, and it lets him work on the accounts. It helps him feel—” her throat swelled before saying the last word “—useful.”

  Peter shrugged. “I liked making it.” He shifted his weight, telling her this conversation had gone on too long.

  “Well, I suppose I should get home.”

  “Me, too.”

  Minnie wouldn’t exactly call Constance House a home, but Peter had moved in with his foster brother and sister-in-law a couple of years ago to help out at the orphanage.

  “See you later.” Peter headed back into the garage.

  If she didn’t get the answer she needed now, she’d never know. “I hope you get to spend time with your friend tonight.”

  Peter halted, his expression quizzical.

  “Before he has to go home to his family,” she added and then held her breath.

  He shrugged. “Oh, he’ll be back on Saturday.” Then he returned to work.

  Minnie didn’t follow. He hadn’t told her what she wanted to know, but she had time to find out. Between now and Saturday, she would transform herself into a woman who would dazzle Peter’s friend.

  * * *

  Peter had let an oppo
rtunity slip away to ask Minnie if she would help with the upholstery, but he didn’t realize it until he sat down to supper and Mariah asked about his day. Long ago, they’d learned to feed the children first and then have the older orphans read to the younger ones so the adults could eat in relative peace. That gave them the chance to catch up and take care of any pressing business.

  “Anything interesting happen today?” Mariah asked him.

  Hendrick looked up hopefully. “Any new business?”

  Peter swallowed a mouthful of mashed potatoes as his mind flitted over the surprising events of the past several hours. “An old friend stopped by after I dropped off your medicine. Do you remember Vince?”

  She shook her head.

  “Vincent Galbini. He helped out around the orphanage in New York.”

  “Oh, yes. I remember him now.” Mariah set down her fork. She still looked a little out of sorts. “He used to do odd jobs, carpentry and repair work, right?”

  Peter nodded. “He’s the one who taught me to work with wood.”

  “At least one blessing came out of his work there.”

  The strange feeling that something wasn’t right returned, but Peter shoved it away. He must have misread his sister-in-law. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sure grateful for that. Having something to do kept me out of trouble.”

  Mariah smiled briefly before her brow furrowed again. “The last I heard, he found work somewhere, but I can’t quite recall where he went. Brooklyn? New Jersey? Baltimore?” She shook her head. “I can’t remember, but that’s not the point. Whatever would bring him to Pearlman?”

  “He promised.” Peter gulped down a swig of milk. “The day Vince left the orphanage, he promised to find me once he got ahead.”

  “He did?” Mariah glanced at Hendrick before returning her attention to Peter. “That’s quite a commitment for someone with Mr. Galbini’s prospects.”

  Her words rubbed Peter the wrong way. “He told me he was going to get a good job, one that paid a lot.”

  “Money does not bring happiness.”

  But it sure doesn’t hurt. Peter bowed his head to hide his feelings. Mariah had never known hunger. She hadn’t scavenged through garbage or risked jail for a bit of bread. She hadn’t slept on the sewer grate hoping for a little warmth when the snow fell. The raw pain of those months on the street came back as if they had happened yesterday. “He’s doing good for himself. He’s got nice clothes, and the job pays good.”

  “Well,” Mariah corrected.

  “Well,” Peter repeated, though he wasn’t quite sure what part of his sentence he’d gotten wrong.

  Mariah picked at her potatoes before leveling her gaze at him again. “How did he find you?”

  “He said he talked to friends back in New York who knew I’d been sent here.”

  “Hmm. I suppose that’s possible. We never kept it a secret that you and the other children found good homes in Pearlman.” An impish smile curved her lips. “So you’re telling me that he came all this way to fulfill a promise, and you didn’t invite him to supper?”

  “Uh, he had to leave.” Peter didn’t want to admit he’d been ashamed to invite Vince to the orphanage. He shouldn’t feel that way. After all, he wasn’t an orphan anymore. Not exactly.

  “He headed back to Brooklyn?” Mariah looked confused. “Already?”

  “No. He lives in Chicago now.” Peter pushed the canned peas across his plate. This was beginning to feel like an interrogation.

  “That’s still a long drive,” Hendrick said. “You should have asked him to stay with us.”

  “I—I think he’s staying at Terchie’s.” At least Peter assumed he was at the boardinghouse.

  Hendrick scowled. “Isn’t our place good enough?”

  Peter swallowed hard and stared at his plate of food. He wasn’t hungry anymore, but he couldn’t face his foster brother’s reproach.

  To his surprise, Mariah rescued him. “It was quite thoughtful of Mr. Galbini to take other lodging. Peter must have told him we were full.”

  Peter felt even worse. Why had he been so ashamed to tell Vince he was living at the orphanage? What would it matter to a guy who used to help out at one?

  Mariah continued, “I may have to change my opinion of Mr. Galbini. It shows considerable integrity to keep a fleeting promise to a boy.”

  Peter squirmed. “Well, that wasn’t the only reason he stopped by. He wanted to know if I could do some work for him.”

  That caught Hendrick’s attention. “What kind of work?” Peter’s foster brother was still in charge of the garage, though he’d handed over day-to-day management to Peter after his airplane-motor factory went into production.

  Peter mashed the peas to pulp. “Nothing much. Just wants a luggage compartment for his car.”

  “Oh.” Hendrick resumed eating. “You could make a rack like the one we built for Mariah’s Overland.”

  Peter didn’t point out that Vince wanted something entirely different.

  “What make of car?” Hendrick asked.

  “Pierce-Arrow.”

  Both Hendrick’s and Mariah’s eyebrows shot up.

  Mariah picked up her fork. “Mr. Galbini must be doing very well in his new job to afford a Pierce-Arrow.”

  “Real well,” Peter confirmed, “but the car isn’t his. It belongs to his boss.”

  “Ah. That explains things.” Still, Mariah looked concerned. “Just make sure everything is completely legitimate. I’m afraid that Mr. Galbini kept company with some pretty rough sorts.”

  “He did?” That came as a shock to Peter. Vince was nothing like Uncle Max. Vince kept his promises. He could turn a warped old board into a toy or a beautiful piece of furniture. Peter owed Vince a huge debt. “He was always good to me.”

  “I’m sure he was.” She smiled weakly.

  “And he’s got money to pay. He gave me a deposit.”

  Hendrick looked up from his supper. “That’s good thinking on your part.”

  Peter didn’t want to explain that he hadn’t asked for a deposit, but he appreciated Hendrick’s confidence in him. “And there’s plenty more to pay for the whole job. He showed me a money clip with a huge wad of bills. He’s making his mark in the world.”

  Mariah cleared her throat. “A man’s true worth isn’t based on how much he earns.”

  “Tell that to Minnie Fox.”

  “Oh?” Mariah lifted an eyebrow. “Minnie, of all people, should understand that money does not make the man.”

  Peter wasn’t so sure. He’d heard her comments in the drugstore and watched her chase after worthless guys just because they were swells.

  “Speaking of Minnie,” Mariah said softly, “why don’t you invite her to the church supper tomorrow night?”

  Peter smashed the last pea. “Maybe I will.” If he got up the nerve. But if Minnie turned him down—which she probably would—he’d feel worse than he already did. “Maybe I won’t,” he added, just in case.

  “If Mr. Galbini decides to stay longer, please invite him to stay here with us.”

  “That’s not necessary, ma’am.” Peter couldn’t quite imagine Vince in a house full of orphans. But it was big of Mariah to offer the invitation. “Thank you, though.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said with a soft smile.

  Still, the raw undercurrent of concern hung in the air. For some reason, she didn’t trust Vince, but Peter did. He had to. Vince offered hope. If Peter did this job right, maybe Vince’s boss would hire him to do more work. More work meant more income. He could help out Hendrick and Mariah. If there was enough work, maybe he could teach a couple of the older orphans to help out. And if the work included upholstery... The thought of working with Minnie made any risk worthwhile.

  Today, she’d come to see him. In all
the years he’d known Minnie, she’d never set foot in the garage. Nor had she come to Constance House. She barely acknowledged him at church. In school, she’d made faces at him, probably because he’d played tricks on her. She constantly pointed out that she was four months older than him—or at least she thought she was. He’d never told anyone that he’d lied about his age. But today she’d come to the garage to see him. And she’d complimented his woodworking. Maybe he stood a chance. Maybe she’d even agree to go to the church supper with him.

  Winning over Minnie Fox would take effort. Asking her to help with the upholstery might be a good start. He’d find her first thing in the morning, before the dress shop opened. He fingered the hundred-dollar bill in his pocket. Maybe that would catch her attention.

  * * *

  “Cut it just like this.” Minnie pointed to the picture on the cover of Photoplay and settled onto the chair in front of the cracked wall mirror. The silver beneath the glass had been scratched and tarnished years ago, so her reflection looked wavy.

  Jen gathered a handful of Minnie’s long hair and snapped open the shears. “Are you sure?”

  The sound of the shears made Minnie hesitate. Her hair had always been long. This was a big step. She gripped the magazine and squeezed. After Ruth and Sam’s devastating news that the clothing company hadn’t bought her designs, this family could use a change. If short hair brought fame to moving-picture actresses, it could change her life, too. Maybe one day, she would step on the stage to grand applause. Wouldn’t that make everyone take note?

  She took a deep breath. “I’m ready, but make it quick.”

  Instead of snipping, Jen hesitated. “Mother will have a conniption. You know how she says that you have her hair.”

  “Which she always wears up so no one can see it.”

  “And that she thinks bobbed hair is boyish and a symbol of the ‘degradation of our country’s youth.’” Jen perfectly mimicked their mother’s tone of voice.

  In spite of her nerves, Minnie laughed. “I’d hate to become a symbol.”