Page 33 of Because I Could Not Stop for Death

She smiled when I said her Christian name. “Before you come down to help with supper, I would like you to go into the parlor to see if the family needs anything for their visit.”

I felt myself pale. It would be the first time that I would be seeing Mr.Dickinson since I began working for the family. He had not come down to breakfast this morning. Instead Margaret delivered a tray to his room. I glanced down at my dress and brushed at my skirt. I touched my hair. I wanted to appear as though I had everything in place and was the right person for this position.

“What is it that they might need?” I asked.

“Well, that’s what I don’t know. I must return to the kitchen and finish the pudding for tonight’s meal, and I cannot leave the custard when I begin or it will be at risk of curdling. Go into the parlor, and when it is the right time, ask if there is anything that they require.”

“How will I know when it is the right time?” I asked, unable to keep the nervousness from my voice.

She frowned. “Dear Willa, just go and you will know.” With that, she left the dining room. I watched her leave with an anxious heart.

After checking my reflection the best that I could in the dining room window, I took a deep breath and went into the parlor. As I stepped through the door, it seemed that I had come into the room in the middle of a tense conversation.

“I am not like Grandfather,” Austin said with exasperation in his voice.

“I hope you would not be. I raised you not to be,” Mr.Dickinson replied. “My father was a pious man, but he was challenged by managing money. He was impractical and ran himself and the institutions that he served into the ground.”

Mr.Dickinson had long sideburns that were turning from brown to gray and a lined, rather stern face. He looked like a man who was used to getting respect. Not only that, but he looked like a man who expected respect.

“The question is, whose fault is that?” Austin, a younger version of his father, shot back.

Mr.Dickinson’s dark eyes narrowed at his son. “What do you mean by that, Son?”

“These institutions that he supposedly caused so much trouble for kept hiring him. They knew—or if they didn’t, they could have learned—his reputation with money, yet they hired him because they wanted a Dickinson under their employ. It is their fault in hiring him just as much as it is his fault for his own incompetence.”

“Do not speak of your grandfather in that way,” Mr.Dickinson said in a low and threatening voice. “He deserves your respect. Just because you are a Cambridge man now, it does not mean that you can take such a tone with me.”

“And your words about your father were spoken highly?”

“Watch your tongue when you are in my home,” Mr.Dickinson snapped.

Austin looked like he wanted to say something more, but Miss Gilbert put her hand over his. He looked down at it.

There was a long moment of silence when no one said anything. I wondered if this was the time when I should ask if they needed anything. But in all honesty, they were so locked in their argument, I don’t even know if they were aware I was there.

“The Ladies Auxiliary is having a fundraiser for the Sunday school classes,” Mrs.Dickinson said out of the blue. “Emily, I hope you will make some of your wonderful rye bread for the ladies to sell.”

Emily frowned at Mrs.Dickinson as if she couldn’t believe her mother would change the subject. “I can,” she said finally.

“Oh, wonderful, I will be sure to tell them at church on Sunday.”

“Do you need something, Willa?” Miss Lavinia asked as she pet her cat.

All of them turned and looked at me.

“Oh, yes, I mean no, I am not in need of anything. Was there anything that you all needed before Miss O’Brien and I finish making the evening meal?”

Mr.Dickinson studied me under his dark hooded brow. “Who is this?” It was clear the question was not directed at me, but at the family.

“It’s Willa Noble, our new maid, Edward,” Mrs.Dickinson said. “If you recall, Margaret asked for more help the last time you were home and you granted it.”

He frowned as if he didn’t remember this conversation at all. I froze. What if I was sacked? I didn’t have anywhere to go. Mrs.Patten was too offended by the fact that I quit the boardinghouse to take me back. I didn’t have anything or anyone to fall back on.

Mr.Dickinson’s face cleared. “I do remember that conversation. I should have thought of it more. With leaving Congress and the renovations on the homestead, we need to be frugal at this time. There are many things that I know all of you want in the homestead when we move.” He frowned at me. “But you are here, so there is no taking it back now.”

It took all of my strength not to melt into a puddle right there on the carpet. I had thought for certain that I would be dismissed.

“Willa, that will be all,” Emily said.

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