“Laurie seems happy enough,” Faith said.
“I heard her crying during the night,” Mary replied.
“Yes,” Faith said. “Nights do seem to be the hardest. When everyone is sleeping and there is time to think.” Mary wondered if Faith was talking about Laurie or herself. She had noticed Faith’s restlessness of late. Sympathized with her daughter’s decision not to marry Mr. Cook yet it was worrisome. Her father was no longer a young man and the Stern Family money went to a male cousin when he died. Not that Mary begrudged Timothy his inheritance so much as she worried about her daughters’ future.
“Imogen and I will take care of visitors,” Faith offered. “There are sure to be a long procession and you can help Father with what needs to be done.”
Faith did not wait for a reply. Picking up the package Mrs. Bloom had left she went upstairs to Imogen’s room. Laurie and Imogen were sitting on the floor in her bedroom. “Imogen is making me a sock doll,” Laurie announced waiting breathlessly for the doll to take shape. Imogen held up an old cotton sock. String had been tied around the toe and stuffed to form a doll’s head. Two blue buttons were sewn on to for eyes. The doll had a pink satin ribbon mouth.
“She is beautiful,” Faith said. “Have you decided on a name yet?” She placed the brown package on Imogen’s bed before turning back to Laurie. “Your new baby must have a suitable name.”
Laurie scrunched up her face in concentration. “Apple,” the child said cheerfully.
“Apple,” Faith said, mystified by Laurie’s choice for a name.
“Apples are round like her head,” Laurie further explained, “And red like the yarn Imogen is using to make her hair.” All week the sisters had been working to teach Laurie the names of various colors.
“Perhaps Alice would be a better name,” Imogen suggested.
“Alice,” Laurie repeated, “Alright,” the child cheerfully accepted Imogen’s advice.
Faith untied the string around Mrs. Bloom’s package and folded back the paper. Laurie stood beside her the child’s eyes wide with wonder. “I am not sure how they will fit,” Faith cautioned as she held up the first dress. It was a pretty blue and several sizes to large.
“I will start taking out seams,” Imogen offered as she finished sewing an arm on Alice. “There should be enough material to make Alice a matching dress. What do you say,” she asked Laurie.
A knock on the front door interrupted Laurie’s reply. “I will see to our caller,” Faith said. When she had come into Imogen’s room she had left the bedroom door standing open so they could hear when someone knocked on the front door.
Mrs. Dial stood on the front porch. She looked how Faith thought a livery stable owner’s wife should look. Tall for a woman and large boned. Mrs. Dial was always cheerful. “I have here a pot of string beans and ham. After the funeral everyone will be stopping by your house for a chat and a bite to eat.” She handed Faith the kettle of food. “I have my washtub packed with dishes,” she indicated the wagon parked in front of the house. “Be right back. A body never has enough dishes at a time like this.”
“Thank you,” Faith said to the departing woman’s back. She was in the kitchen when Mrs. Dial carried her washtub through the house.
“Where do you want this,” Mrs. Dial asked.
“On the table,” Faith replied. She would count the dishes as she unpacked the washtub. One must be careful to return another’s generously offered property.
Mrs. Dial did not say goodbye.
“Thank you,” Faith called again as she stood at the front door.
Mrs. Adkins stopped her buggy behind Mrs. Dial’s wagon. The woman was the opposite of Mrs. Dial. Mrs. Adkins was frail looking with blue veined hands and hair as white as a winter’s snow. She wore her customary black dress and plain black bonnet. “Good day,” Mrs. Adkins called to Mrs. Dial.
“Hello,” Faith greeted.
“Such a sad time,” Mrs. Adkins replied. She wiped tears off her cheers with a white lace handkerchief. The woman enjoyed funerals as long as they were not her own. “I baked bread yesterday,” she said. “Will you please be good enough to fetch the loaves from by buggy?”
“Yes. Of course,” Faith replied and followed Mrs. Adkins to her buggy. “You will come in for a cup of coffee,” Faith invited.
“No thank you,” Mrs. Adkins replied. “This weather is hard on my joints. The cold, you know. I dread winter coming,” she added. “I am thinking of visiting my sister in Rock Cliff. It is warmer there, you know,” she declared.
As long as Faith could remember Mrs. Adkins said every winter she was going to visit her sister in Rock Cliff. The poor dear never has to Faith’s knowledge. “You will be missed,” Faith replied. “I don’t know what Mother will do without your help on Sunday mornings.” The woman beamed at Faith’s words of gratitude.
“I will see,” Mrs. Adkins replied. She wrapped her black shawl tighter around her thin shoulders.
“Thank you,” Faith said as Mrs. Adkins entered her buggy. “I will see you later.”
Imogen had the dress seams open when Faith carried her sewing box into her sister’s bedroom. “Have you decided on a style,” she asked sitting on the edge of Valerie’s bed. The two sisters shared the bedroom.
“Young girls should always wear Mary Jane dresses with white pinafores,” Imogen declared. “A plain bodice and gathers at the waist with buttons down the back and rounded collars.”
“What was I thinking,” Faith replied flippantly. Imogen gave her older sister a sharp look then smiled when she noticed Faith’s smirk. “I really do agree,” Faith cajoled. “What are we going to use to make a pinafore?”
“God will provide,” Imogen stated holding the bodice up
