LITMIR.BIZ

       Ruby-Throated Hummingbird

      (Archilochus colubris)

      Mother’s letter arrived four days after my stroll through the picturesque little town, four days after I’d wandered along the row of brick storefronts dreaming of what it might be like to work in one of the shops. I’d spent the days after that trip waiting and worrying and getting my hopes up and then forcing them down again. I was sure, one minute, that she’d send an enthusiastic “yes” and let me work anywhere I pleased. The next minute, I was positive she’d laugh at my request and I’d be spending the whole summer on needlepoint and small talk—even more confined than I would’ve been at home in the city under Mother’s watchful eye.

      But when the letter found me, sitting at supper in the dining room with the Harringtons, it contained both good news and bad. “I am glad to hear that the Galpin is comfortable and you are all settled in with the Harringtons,” she wrote. “They are so generous for watching over you this summer.” Next came news of Father, who she enthusiastically claimed was “on the mend.” My heart soared at the idea that this summer experiment might actually help bring him back. Then Mother digressed into a recitation of mundane reports from home and passed along greetings from Aunt Rachel and Rachel’s companion, Sarah. Then, finally, she addressed the job question:

      I’m sure you are anxious to know my decision on the topic of your letter, so I won’t delay further. I have considered your suggestion of employment and I’ve decided I will allow it. It is important for a young woman with your amount of energy to remain occupied. I have written to Mrs. Harrington to ask her to find you some small job that suits your position and education. She has connections in the town there, and I trust she can set you up with something you will find enjoyable—perhaps you could be a companion to a child of a wealthy family. Any wages you earn can help with your room and board at the hotel, less a little bit of spending money if you wish.

      Companion to a child of a wealthy family? Didn’t she understand that I was already a companion to Hannah, and it was the utter boredom of her company that drove me to ask for a job in the first place? Oh, Mother! Always concerned about my pent-up “energy” driving me to unrespectable pastimes, always conjuring up tasks to keep me “occupied” and out of trouble. Well, sitting around with yet another stuck-up brat was not going to help. I I slumped in my seat and pushed away my bowl of rabbit stew, tossing the letter on the table in a huff.

      “Well, what kind of employment were you thinking of?” Mrs. Harrington asked after reading her own letter from Mother and seeing my less-than-veiled disappointment. “Did you have some better idea?”

      I blushed, but I was determined to swallow my pride and give voice to my plan.

      “I think I’d like to work in a shop.” Mrs. Harrington’s eyebrows went up, so I continued in a rush. “My friend Alice at home is working at a department store this summer and she enjoys it, so I took a stroll through town the other day and there were lots of lovely shops that seemed like nice places to work—the ladies’ clothing store, the florist, even the grocer’s—”

      “Oh dear, not the grocer’s,” Mrs. Harrington cut in. Then she stopped to consider. Her face softened as she thought; first her mouth moved from its tight line, then her eyes relaxed out of their squint, then she spoke again. “Well, I would never allow Hannah to work as a shop girl, but actually it might suit you just fine.” That was clearly an insult to my family’s income and lifestyle, but if it made her sway in my favor, I didn’t care much. I ignored Hannah’s smirk and waited for Mrs. Harrington to go on. She stared over my head and thought a moment, sifting through notions in her mind. I bit my lip, drummed my fingers on the polished oak tabletop, waited.

      “I know the woman who runs the hat shop in town,” she said at last. “Charming little place, and Miss Maple, the proprietor, is a respectable enough woman. Perhaps she would benefit from your help this summer. The shop was a mess when I stopped by the other day. I will telephone your mother and persuade her and then speak to Miss Maple on your behalf.”

      This was kindness I’d never seen before in Mrs. Harrington, and it made me certain that her motives had more to do with being tired of my company than with wanting to secure my happiness. And clearly it would nourish her feelings of superiority to see me behind a shop counter; the idea seemed to please her in a perverse sort of way. None of that mattered to me in the least. “Thank you, ma’am,” I said, finishing the conversation.

      We ate a few bites in silence.

      “Do you know if the park is still closed?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

      “I heard somebody say they’re taking the whole week to repair the storm damage and test everything for safety,” Hannah said. “Could we go look, Mother, once it’s open again?” The spark of enthusiasm in her voice surprised me.

      “Oh, I suppose,” Mrs. Harrington said. “There’s no harm in a little candy floss and a ride on the Ferris wheel. Perhaps we could go out on the Minnehaha, dear.”

      The look on her face made it clear that this too was a concession. It would ensure that her charges saw the amusement park under her own supervision. Hannah would be safe from the “riffraff” while in her mother’s care, and she could steer us clear of the more “vulgar” rides. Mrs. Harrington seemed to be full of compromises this evening.

      Hannah beamed and a smile found my face as well. But as much as I wanted to see the park, I’d hoped to go without the Harringtons—to see it on my own, without the snide commentary of

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