“How much land do you think he has actually acquired?” asked Zoltan, trying not to laugh.
“Some say it must be at least a thousand acres, others insist it’s more.” John finished his beer.
“Well, with all that untouched countryside at his disposal, Henry Ford will finally get to see enough of his precious birds!” Stan put down his napkin.
“That and their childhood memories is probably why he decided to buy most of Dearborn,” Johann added.
“How long do you think before the Boss and his Missus can move in?”
“I don’t know, Peter.” John leaned back in his chair. “The rumor is at least another year, or it could be not until the beginning of 1916.”
The women began clearing. Henrietta gave her girls permission to leave the table, go play pick-up-sticks in the parlor until it was time for dessert. Jane, hearing the baby’s cry, went to feed him.
Over pie and coffee, the men discussed the new compulsory three-shift rotation system that none of them liked, as well as the latest right of foremen and department superintendents spotting exceptional talent, to relocate such workers to positions where they could serve the company best, which they all approved of. Their own specialized skills having brought them to their elevated positions with Ford, the men welcomed giving those who showed they were capable of more than repetitive, unskilled labor a chance to prove their worth. At the opposite end of the table, the women who could understand each other talked amongst themselves, exchanging tidbits on fashions and household furnishings. Soon it was time to leave, Serafina, knowing Stan would start translating what had been said around the supper table, hoped he wouldn’t take all night explaining what she wasn’t really interested in. To be escorted to her father’s front door, there to be thoroughly kissed—would suffice. Rosie, eager to get to bed, have Carl make love to her, rushed him out of the house, worried they might miss their trolley. Holding the children’s hands between them, Johann and Rudy walked home together, their wives following behind, each carrying one of Hannah’s apple pies.
Fritz began extinguishing lights, securing the house for the night. Zoltan thanked Hannah for yet another delicious meal, reminded her to keep looking out for a letter from his mother announcing the date of her arrival and, waving good night, disappeared upstairs. John cautioned his wife not to take too long changing his son, settling him down, kissed Hannah good night and went to bed. Ebbely followed suit.
Hannah hung the damp dishtowels on the rack to dry, prepared for the next day’s breakfast, while Jane laid the table; wondering if Stan would return, should she lay a place for him, then took care of the baby, carried him in his cradle upstairs to their room. It had been a long day and she was tired. Before falling asleep, she wondered what it would be like, to see pictures moving right before one’s eyes and if Rudy really would take her to see them someday.
“I have bought a house. I am certain it will please you to have a home of your own to take care of. Besides, it is time,” was how John announced the purchase of their first home. Jane recovered sufficiently to ask, “Where?”
“One street down, three blocks over on Louise.” Hannah would still be near, was Jane’s first thought. “Within a month, we will move. Now, with merchants eager to extend credit to Ford employees, furniture can be bought on time. The house has its own indoor bathroom, complete with water closet. On Sunday, we can walk over and I will show it to you.” John left for work.
Jane stood in the center of their room, wondering why this moment was not filled with the elation it warranted. What woman wouldn’t want a house of her own, a husband who could afford to buy one, present it to her on a silver platter without her having to lift a finger? She should be jumping with joy, instead of feeling somehow resentful.
Really Giovanna, she took herself to task. How very ungrateful of you! At least, he did volunteer to show it to you. Maybe he will even let you see the furniture before he buys it on this time—whatever that means! and she hurried downstairs to tell Hannah the news.
Hannah’s eyes filled with tears then insisted so vehemently that they were only ones of joy that Jane knew they weren’t.
“The best thing of all, it’s only one street down and three streets over. I think John said Louise.”
Hannah brushed away the tears and beamed, “Louise? Gott im Himmel! Dat’s only away a hop and a skip! Not serious leaving. So, now Vifey, we both Big Shot house owners!! Good for you, Ninnie and your baby be where you belong. John do right by you. Oh! And all dose extras I keep!! De attic is full of dem. You take, make de house cozy fine and save de money.” Hannah pulled Jane’s arm, “Come, bread on second rising, baby sleeping, ve got time go inspect, see what is hidden. Oy, such excitement! And not yet noon!” Pulling Jane behind her, Hannah hurried to the stairs leading to her attic.
A small house in a row resembling it, its clapboard exterior greenish-gray, front porch gabled, a piece of lawn in a small back yard giving it a grandeur of land owned. Walking through the empty rooms, their peeling wallpaper witness to neglect, Jane felt an aura of desertion as though the house challenged her to prove that she would not. The way station to responsible marriage that Hannah’s home had become was about to end, its shelter of an untried wife removed. Jane, sensing this, was apprehensive. To leave the Geiger house would be like leaving home. Never having had a true one to practice such leave-taking, Jane was uncertain how she could do so with grace. Louise Street might be only one street down and three blocks over, but for Jane, it signified a whole other world.