“Too many, and no—they will just think it an act of God. I don’t care what they think either way.” I pressed the child to my chest and wrapped my shawl tight around us both. The girl made another mewling sound but did not cry. She was a good child, I decided. An easy, quiet child. A child meant for light, not a hole in the ground.
“And the store?” James leaned his shoulder on the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest.
“It’s coming along. I’m expecting deliveries in the morning.”
“A confectionery store.” He shook his head. “How did that come about?”
“It was a natural choice; it was already there, just waiting for a new owner. And I’m hardly the first person in this city to be tempted to stake my fortunes on sugar and sweets.” It was the only business I could make Mads agree to; he had gotten it in his head that the future was made of flavored sugar. It had taken all we had—a second mortgage and my meager savings—to make it happen.
“You might be the first with such fiery intentions.” James raised a hand and let his fingers trail along my hairline to brush away a few stray strands.
“Hush,” I scolded him but smiled.
“Won’t you find it hard to build something just to tear it down?” His dark gaze narrowed.
“No, I find I like the sweets and the planning,” I told him. “I like to watch it grow around me. One day I might build a business for real.” If I could make that work, I would never have to rely on a man’s poor pay again. I glanced at the girl’s tiny face once more. This child was different; she would carry my name. She was no borrowed child—she was mine through and through. “Did you pay and settle with the mother?”
“She doesn’t even know where the girl went. She didn’t want to know.”
“Good. I better take her inside, then, and make sure she doesn’t get cold.”
James gave an amused chuckle. “It’s good to see you so happy.”
“I’ll be happier still when all is said and done with the store.” I bent forth to receive a light kiss on the lips.
He tipped his hat. “I’m at your service, as always.”
“Know that I’m grateful for that.”
I closed the door gently and brought Caroline inside.
21.
Nellie
Chicago 1896–1898
Bella’s store was a marvel, filled to the brim with caramels, candy canes, and sugared nuts. It had newspapers, magazines, cigars, and tobacco as well, neatly lined up on polished shelves. The counter was large and held a golden thread weight. Behind and upon it, small and large glass jars displayed the goods to the customers. The sign on the storefront spelled out the business’s purpose in black and golden letters: Sweets & Tobacco. Bella cleaned it every day, balancing on a ladder.
I often went there to help her in the beginning, and rejoiced in how her mood had improved. She was humming to herself while tying on the white apron in the morning, and cleaning the shelves with a feather duster. Part of that improvement was due to little Caroline, of course. It was a wonder how that girl came to be. Not only had Bella been barren before, but she was not so young either—and yet there was Caroline, a well-shaped child who made her demands known through great bellows of her lungs.
I sometimes wondered if Bella was like me and had suffered through miscarriages, yet never told a soul. The thought of it pained me, that she would have carried such a burden in silence, year after year, too proud to admit to her body’s failings. No wonder her marriage had suffered so, and that she had often been so glum.
When I asked her, though, she said that she had never lost even one.
Mads, too, seemed much improved since Caroline’s arrival. He rose from his bed shortly after the birth and showed the child off to every neighbor who happened to pass by. He regained even more of his glow after they opened the store. He said it was a fresh start for all of them, their great opportunity in life. Bella only huffed and said that he sure was more useful wiping down windows and placing orders than he had been for the last few years, lying on his back in the bed.
I used to bring Nora with me to the store, and she and Jennie would help fill the shelves, spelling out the names of the various flavors as they worked in tandem with their smooth brows creased with concentration: “Sugarplum, lemon drop, peppermint, cinnamon, wintergreen, lavender . . .” Baby Caroline slept in a cradle in the back, where the door could be closed if she cried.
It was a joyous time for all of us and I was thrilled to see Bella so happy. She was always marvelous company when pleased, and our days at the store were filled with laughter and sugared treats in equal measure. Whenever a customer came in, Bella’s eyes lit up and she brought forth her sweetest smile as she went behind the counter to exchange caramels and cigars for shiny coins. I thought that she might have found her place in life at last.
“Perhaps you were never meant to stay at home,” I told her one day as we sat by the little table in the back where the window showed a view of the backyard, crammed with wagons, wooden boards, and crates stacked against the outhouse walls. “Some women fare better if they work outside the kitchen.”
“Yes, but it wouldn’t be the same if I didn’t own it.” Her fingers dipped into a bowl of toffee, bringing a piece to her lips—she always had a sweet tooth. “I don’t think I could work for another again, not after R?dde farm.”
“Well, you always had a good head on your shoulders, and now you can put it to use.”
“You should encourage Olga to come and work for me.” Her eyes lit up with the idea. “It would be better for her to work for her aunt than in some other place with strangers. I would always be fair to her, and I could certainly use the help, with the children here all the time.”
I quickly repressed the fear that flared in my chest. My daughter was fifteen and certainly not a child anymore. Bella could not take her from me even if she tried. “That’s a good idea.” I forced my lips to form the words. “It will be useful for her to learn how to manage a store.”
“Won’t it just.” Bella fished out another piece of toffee. “I am sure she will like it here, with all these delicious goods to sample.” The toffee disappeared in between her lips.
“Certainly,” I agreed, and reminded myself again how much my sister’s mood had improved since the store opened.
Olga would surely be safe.
* * *
—
I was at the store less after Olga started her apprenticeship. I wanted to give my daughter space to find her place without her mama looking over her shoulder. She seemed excited by her new work, though, and often regaled me with stories when she came home. She spoke of the little boy who always came in for cigars, reeking of them though he said they were for his father, and the woman who bought peppermint candy to mix in with her gin. She told me of the lovesick young man who sought to impress his sweetheart by offering a new flavor of candy every day, and the baker’s daughter who bought caramels to comfort herself whenever her father had been cruel.