A Flickering Light Read online

  Jessie turned. “Selma.” She rubbed her finger over her lip, quickly dropped her hand.

  Winnie ran to her father. “I don’t see you. It’s all dark, Papa.”

  “You mustn’t rush in like that, Winnie. The room must be dark, remember?” He sounded gruff.

  “I’m sorry, Papa.”

  “Yes, yes, I know you are.”

  Winnie hugged Jessie’s legs then. “Mama!”

  Jessie patted Winnie’s head. The child was frazzled by her father’s sharpness. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

  “I didn’t mean Mama,” Winnie said, her lower lip rolled into a pout. “Jessie. I know.”

  Selma said nothing, but she held a question on her face.

  “You walked a long way to get here. Or did you take the streetcar?” Her heart was slowing.

  “Mrs. Bauer has a terrible headache, so I thought I’d leave the house quiet for a time until Russell gets home from school. Winnie wanted to walk home with her father, and I thought I’d walk back with you.”

  “Time to go, Papa.” Winnie pulled on her father’s hand.

  He pulled his watch out. “In a while,” he said. “We have a few more things to finish up.” His voice quivered a bit. “Go ahead, Misses Gaebeles. I can manage here with Winnie. You walk home with your sister. It’s the right thing to do.”

  Jessie moved into the reception area, secured her gloves, and told him she’d lock the front door so they might exit through the kitchen. She said good-bye to Winnie, talking a little too loudly, she knew. As they walked, Selma said nothing as Jessie sorted out just what it was she was doing. How easily the mind is capable of slanting truth. What they’d done would have no long-term impact, would it?

  Mrs. Bauer noted with calmness that her husband came home right after work, on time, this entire week, and this pleased her. He was especially attentive, not even reading the paper before he came in to nod to her and ask about her day. He sorted through the mail while she talked, commenting on what she shared. He didn’t raise his voice. Mostly she spoke of the children or of Selma. The girl was faultless except for those occasions when she failed to see necessary cleanup, but then Russell seemed to have the same problem these days. She had intended to bring that up with Mr. Bauer but told him instead of some school event they ought to attend on behalf of the children. He’d have to come home early. It was on Friday.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked. “With the children’s school-work?”

  “You can read the letter,” she told him.

  “The children are doing well, aren’t they? No problems?”

  “Read the letter,” she repeated, hearing annoyance in her voice. “It’s Friday. It’s the last day of school for the term. The ice-cream social happens then, you remember. Winnie can come. Her kindergarten schooling ends too.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Of course. Friday.”

  She thought his mind went somewhere as he stopped sorting but then returned as he looked for the letter. He still had not told her anything about Selma’s sister leaving the studio, and she wondered why. Wouldn’t he have to train another? Were their finances so short that he had let her go in order to save money and no one would replace her? Maybe Mrs. Bauer should return to retouching, to help him out. No. She’d done that while he was ill, before the Gaebele girl was trained. A wife ought not have to do such work. She had enough demands with the children. She hoped he wasn’t waiting to replace the girl in order to force her back into the studio.

  Too many problems to deal with. Her mother counted on her more because of Eva, her sister. She sometimes forgot she had a brother and sister, she saw them so little. Why was that? Something had happened years ago, maybe when their father died, that had separated the three of them. But now her mother wanted her to “help with Eva.” She’d have to ask Mr. Bauer to assist. It wasn’t something she could handle on her own. Was that part of what the estrangement was about, that her sister didn’t like Mr. Bauer? Was that it? Something like that, something having to do with what happened with the studio. Yes, but she couldn’t remember what. Funny how memory played tricks on her. She’d have to ask him. If she could remember to do it.

  “I thought we could ride in the touring car,” FJ said as they finished supper.

  “Isn’t that a waste of petroleum?” Mrs. Bauer asked. It was an unusual suggestion. She didn’t like changes in their evening routine.

  “We could go to the park if you’d like. Or tour up to Sugar Loaf. Take all the children.”

  “I suppose you could drive slowly. The children will enjoy that. The wind won’t tug at my hair so much if you drive slowly.”

  He’d been different of late. More attentive, she thought. More conversational with the children and kindly toward her. She detected something different.

  “Maybe we could see Mama. It’s been a while.”

  “If that’s what you’d like.”

  Russell groaned. “Can’t we go up Sugar Loaf, Mama? Grandma’s house is dull.” How old was he now? Eleven. What interested eleven-year-old boys?

  “Russell,” Mr. Bauer cautioned. “No need to complain.”

  “He’s right. It would be more pleasant to see the view from Sugar Loaf and watch the sunset. Let’s keep that top up so it doesn’t muss my hair. Mr. Bauer, are you all right?”

  Again it seemed her husband’s mind went somewhere else, and then she remembered, speaking of the wind, what it was she wanted to ask him about. “Russell found one of my hats out there in the car,” she said. “I’ve never worn one like it, I don’t think. Did you buy that one for me some time ago and forget to give it to me?”

  “A hat?” His voice seemed to catch and he frowned. “I didn’t buy you a hat, no.”

  “How did it get there then, in the back of your car? It’s a Lottie Fort hat, I know it is, and she doesn’t make the same hat for more than one woman.”

  “It must be yours,” he said now, firmness in his voice. “You and your mother sometimes shop and forget what you’ve bought.”

  “I haven’t been shopping with Mama for months. Months! She doesn’t even call me to see how I am, what with all the demands I have here, the children, your illness, my own tiredness, Robert’s stomach complaints. Yes, he complains, holds his side.” She had to tell him everything! He didn’t notice!

  “Robert’s ill? You’ve called the doctor? I had no idea.”

  “Oh, he’s fine,” she snapped. Why did he always act more concerned about the children than about her? Maybe because he sometimes snapped at them too.

  “Your sister, then. Might it be her hat? Maybe when we went to visit her that time.”

  She hadn’t thought of that.

  “We drove your mother to church last Sunday, remember? I got back late from work Saturday and couldn’t take Russell for his promised ride, so we took the car to church and picked up your mother.”

  She couldn’t remember just when it was Russell had brought the hat in, whether it was before the Sunday drive…yes…no…

  “Jessie Gaebele has one like it,” Mrs. Bauer said. “I’m sure I saw her wear it once when she came to pick up the girls’ wages.”

  “Must be two, then,” he said.

  Mr. Bauer sounded so certain. “That must be it,” she said. “I’ll have to return it to my mother.”

  “Let me,” he said. “No sense having one more thing for you to fret over.”

  “You’d take care of that for me?”

  “Whatever I can do to make things a little easier for you, Mrs. Bauer.”

  “I thank you for that, Mr. Bauer.”

  “You’ll get it for me, Russell?”

  “Where did you put it, Mama?”

  She tried to remember exactly where she’d placed the hat and what that feeling was she’d had when she held it…that felt. “I’ll be sure to tell my mother that her milliner isn’t keeping her originals all that original since I’m sure Miss Gaebele has the very same hat.”

  He’d take the hat and re
turn it to Jessie. Why didn’t he just say it was hers? Why not be open about her having worked with him on the Kopp wedding? It would be so much easier.

  But no. He couldn’t say that because he didn’t want anything to interfere with what was happening in his life at this moment. He was tumbling through space, spinning out of control, and he didn’t want a life preserver. He didn’t want this to stop. He looked forward to his day; he felt alive, fully, fully alive. He deliberately tried to be more attentive to Mrs. Bauer in order to absolve his own guilt for what he was doing, allowing himself to feel again. But it was so futile, so very futile! Why had he chosen to punish himself this way? And punish everyone…unless he could do extra things for them, make their lives better despite his behavior, which threatened who he was and would be forever, if he did not make this stop.

  Jessie had the strength. He needed to be strong too.

  Russell got the hat for his mother, and FJ put it near the cane stand. “I’ll return it next week,” he said. “Will that be all right?”

  “Of course,” his wife told him. “Unless we stop by Mama’s on our way—”

  Russell’s groan interrupted her.

  “Yes, well, let’s get the car started so we can have that little ride you promised us.”

  He and Jessie had stood between the darkroom and the light—a perfect metaphor for how his feelings raged these days.

  “We only have this week,” she’d said, and then it would be over.

  Temptation would be thumped.

  She was so certain that each of them would be able to go separate ways after tomorrow. Her clarity silenced the inner voices shouting at him at night when he put his head down on the pillow and willed her into his dreams.

  On Sunday he’d awake with newness. He’d thank God for keeping him from doing anything worse than holding a young woman like a flower in his hands. For holding him back from doing anything more than savoring a moment of beauty and fresh fragrance in his heart—all he really needed to fill the emptiness that had become his life. When Sunday came, he vowed, he would renew his devotion to his children and his wife, whether she accepted it or not. He must be there for her. It was what he’d committed to those years before.

  But he had not met Jessie then. And his wife had not become the distant woman she was. No matter. He had obligations, and soon he’d do a better job of meeting them.

  Just one more day, and Jessie Gaebele would be out of his temptation. He’d bought a gift for her to mark her leaving. Tonight he would not sleep.

  Jessie deserved the pain she felt that kept her from sleep.

  She had thought that posing Fred into this scenario would take any responsibility from him so he wouldn’t feel bad about taking the time from his children and wife. He hadn’t really; he’d just been working as always, except for Voe’s wedding day, which had gone on longer than either of them thought it would. She was actually making him more attentive to his family, from what he said. He’d not gone to his lodge but walked right straight home after work. Because of her. And from what he’d told her, that Mrs. Bauer wanted no part of any…intimacy anymore, then she was really helping Mrs. Bauer too, so she didn’t have to feel guilty about not meeting all her obligations as a wife. Not that Jessie had! No, she had not done that which belongs to married people only. She had not.

  But she had reveled in the softness of his whispers, the closeness of his face to hers, the press of her body to his for just those few moments they allowed themselves. It was a troubling dance that pulled two halves that did not belong together into one.

  Yes, she had given both the Bauers a gift in a way. That was the truth, wasn’t it? Without slant?

  The dreams that caused her to toss and turn this week just happened because of the hot summer weather. The girls had even moved the feather mattress out onto the enclosed porch because it had become so hot. That was the cause of those night sweats and strange dreams of flying things that startled her awake with a pounding heart.

  “Can’t you sleep quieter?” Lilly had chastised. “What’s wrong with you, anyway?”

  “It’s the heat,” Jessie said.

  Jessie picked up her pillow and went back upstairs to their room. She could at least sit outside on the roof to cool off. A breeze blew through the window, already open, and she slipped out to stare at the stars.

  “Please let me be able to end this well with Fred,” Jessie said out loud. “You know I have to, and I need Your help now even if I didn’t ask for Your advice before I started. I know it’s going to be difficult. I know that. And I deserve it all. Just help us make the end a knot that won’t come unraveled.”

  “Who’s Fred?”

  Jessie jumped. “You scared me half to death.” She choked the words out. Selma’s use of his name made her throat tighten.

  Her sister had padded up the stairs behind her. Jessie didn’t know how long she’d been standing there. One more reason not to pray out loud. “If you fall asleep on the roof, you could tumble off,” Selma said. “Papa always says, remember? You better come in off of there.”

  “Sometimes I think that wouldn’t be so bad,” Jessie said. She moved over as Selma crawled out onto the shingled roof, ignoring her own advice.

  “What are you trying to do well, anyway? What needs a knot? And who is Fred? A new beau?”

  “It’s none of your affair, Selma. Go back downstairs and go to sleep.”

  “I’ll make sure you don’t fall off the roof.”

  Jessie put her arm around Selma to keep her from sliding on the pitch of the roof. Through the thin cotton nightdress, the shingles felt warm against her legs.

  “Why can’t you sleep?”

  “I have this project at the studio, and I want it to go well. That’s all. Mr. Bauer has a lot on his mind, and I want to clear some of that from him.”

  “I think Mr. Bauer is your Fred and that it’s terribly romantic. Just like those stories in the magazines.”

  Jessie felt a chunk of ice pierce her heart.

  “No. Fred is not Mr. Bauer.” I have to lie, to protect him, myself, even Selma. “You’re imagining things. Too much hot sun this week.” Jessie’s heart pounded, and she felt her face grow hot with shame. “You weren’t wearing your hat when you came to the studio.”

  “Mrs. Bauer has a hat just like yours,” Selma said. “That surprised me because Lottie doesn’t do that usually. I mean, it wasn’t that interesting of a design, all blue with those little white flowers bordering the brim. I’d like to design something with big flaring feathers and little dried berries and maybe put a stuffed bird in there, one that has fallen from a tree. I’d never kill one just for the hat. I think I could work for Lottie, don’t you?”

  “My blue hat?”

  Selma nodded. “Mrs. Bauer said she had one just like it at home. Then she said she couldn’t remember if it was hers or not. I told her to look to see if it had Lottie’s label in it. Maybe Lottie made it for her mother, but I didn’t think she’d do that sort of thing. One of a kind and all, that’s her motto.”

  “Did you tell Mrs. Bauer that?”

  “Where is yours, anyway?” Selma asked. She moved as if to crawl back in through the window, but Jessie held her. “I just want to see if Lottie did something special to it to make it different from the hat Mrs. Bauer described.”

  “I…I must have left it at work.” Jessie said.

  “She wasn’t having a good day. She sees stuff that isn’t there sometimes, gets all upset over it, remember? Some days she complains about Mr. Bauer, his cigars and his spending on the car. Did you know he sold a big chunk of the North Dakota land?”

  “Those land transactions were in the paper,” Jessie said. “Several months ago.”

  “Well, Mrs. Bauer wasn’t very happy about it.”

  “I thought she didn’t like the ranch,” Jessie said.

  “She doesn’t, but it makes money and she was worried about the lost income, and then he bought the car. They had a row once. I saw this hol
e in the water closet door, and Mrs. Bauer said he’d kicked it in!”

  “Maybe Winnie locked herself inside.”

  “I don’t think so,” Selma said. “My being there keeps them from arguing, I think.”

  “I’m sure your being there is important,” Jessie said. She couldn’t imagine that he had a temper.

  “But he’s sweet on you. I could see that when Winnie and I stopped by.”

  “He isn’t! Don’t, don’t think things like that, Selma. Your imagination—”

  “I didn’t imagine him holding you in that little room,” Selma said.

  “Oh, Selma, don’t, don’t say anything about what you thought you saw, please? Not to Mrs. Bauer or the children. Please don’t. It meant nothing. He was… I tripped and fell into him as he was coming out of the darkroom.”

  The lies now wrap Selma into them. Jessie’s chest tightened. “Don’t say anything to anyone.”

  “I won’t,” Selma protested. “I think it’s…romantic.”

  “It isn’t. It’s wrong. It’s nothing.”

  “I just think it would be nice if Mr. and Mrs. Bauer were in love.”

  “Yes, it would.”

  “He wouldn’t be in love with you if he was still in love with Mrs. Bauer.”

  “No, Selma,” Jessie whispered to her. “No, no, no.” Jessie held herself against the pain. She rocked. It was bad enough that she’d threatened her own future, but she couldn’t let Selma ever believe that what she’d seen was somehow romantic and safe and agreeable just because she’d also seen tenderness pass between her and Fred.

  Jessie stopped rocking and brushed the hair back from Selma’s eyes.

  “I need a little more time,” she said, her lips quivering. Thinking. Praying. She was grateful the stars gave out only pale light so Selma couldn’t see the tears leaving tracks on her hot face or look into Jessie’s eyes and find the darkness of her soul. “Why don’t you go back down before Lilly wakes up and finds us? You know how cranky she is when she doesn’t get enough sleep.”

  Selma giggled, a sound like a baby being tickled. Free and without pretense.