The Daring Ladies of Lowell(10)

Grabbing Alice’s hand, Lovey quickened her step and marched up the steps of the bank. “Good morning, Mr. Fiske,” she said with almost-languorous ease to the man in the linen shirt, twirling her parasol. “You do remember me, I presume?”

Jonathan Fiske seemed startled but almost instantly flashed her a smile. “Of course,” he said with a slight bow. “Do remind me, where have we met?”

“Nowhere, actually. But you have on several occasions winked at me.”

A quick guffaw, a sly glance in his brother’s direction, then a move closer to Lovey. “Well, I shall do so again. No harm in winking, right? And who’s your friend?”

“This is Alice, new to the town. Feel free to wink at her, too, from time to time.”

A mortified Alice tried to pull free, but Lovey held firm to her hand, a reckless light in her eyes. Her bit of theater was drawing attention. Townspeople glanced over their shoulders, then bent their heads together, whispering. Heads were shaking; here and there a snicker.

“It appears this young lady wants to enter the bank,” said Samuel Fiske, his deep voice cutting through the murmurings as he looked toward Alice.

“Indeed, I want to open an account,” Alice said, freeing her hand from Lovey’s and tipping her chin high. She felt sharply aware of her faded coat with its threadbare collar.

“Well, then, welcome. We certainly won’t stand in your way.” Samuel Fiske opened the massive carved door and gave her a stiff little bow, his manner, she imagined, like that of a host ushering a customer into a tearoom. She caught a flash in his eyes as he shot a cold glance at his younger brother.

“Just having a bit of fun,” Jonathan said, annoyed, his flirtatious grin disappearing. He turned back to Lovey, leaned down, and whispered something in her ear.

“Why did you do that to me?” Alice said furiously after Lovey later joined her inside.

“It was just a lark—my goodness, are you really upset? I’m sorry, I feel like tweaking their noses every now and then. What’s wrong with a little flirting?”

“Not with them. We work for them.”

“So what? I like surprising the important men of industry.”

“I’d rather surprise them by learning everything I can and moving up in the world.”

“Alice, don’t tell me you’re shrinking back like some little mouse,” Lovey said.

Alice shook her head emphatically. “My mother taught me to take risks and be brave when it counted, not just to play.”

She regretted her words instantly when she saw the expression on Lovey’s face.

“My mother—,” Lovey began, looking a bit lost. She stopped.

“Maybe we’re both trying to be brave but in different ways,” Alice amended.

“I’m sorry for drawing you in like that,” Lovey said slowly. “It matters to me that you like me. Please forgive me.”

They stood awkwardly in the crowded room, hovering at some kind of crossroads. Lovey clasped her hands in front of her so tightly, the tips of her fingers were white.

“I’m being self-righteous,” Alice said finally. “I’m sorry, too.”

The look of relief on Lovey’s face held no artifice. “Thank you,” she said.

Alice held up a small green passbook, unable to contain her pride. “See this?” she said. “I just deposited my pay, and I will add a dollar every week. My father will get out of debt, and I will be independent.”

“I’m happy for you,” Lovey said. “I’ve never had the discipline myself. But—oh dear, I hope you saved a little for shopping in the company store.” Her usual teasing mode was back again.

“Maybe,” Alice said cautiously. “Will I be able to buy something worthwhile for a dollar?”

“Come with me,” Lovey replied, breaking into a grin. “I will be your guide.”

The company store was dazzling. Alice walked the aisles, amazed at the array of velvet bonnets, colorful shawls. She stared a long time at a showcase of bracelets adorned with glittering chips of colored glass, then watched as the other girls tried things on, preening and laughing in front of oval gilt-edged mirrors. Lovey was admiring a bangle of gold and silver on her wrist, her eyes dancing.

Then Mary-o was twirling on her toes in front of them. “Isn’t this beautiful?” she said. She had donned one of the scarves, a beautiful piece, made of light silk shimmering with many shades of blue. “When I went home the first time, all the neighbors sniffed and held up their noses,” she confided. “I was a factory girl, not genteel enough for them, nobody important. But now they see me as a grand city lady, coming home with new fashions and ideas. Now I am somebody,” she finished proudly, twirling again in the beautiful shawl.