Turning the Tide Read online

  Ruby waited with me at the bottom of the narrow spiral staircase leading to the balcony until it seemed people had stopped descending. The seating area upstairs at the front end of the building held more pews overlooking the two worship rooms. Our congregation was flourishing such that we needed the additional seats to accommodate the many Friends who streamed into the Meetinghouse on First Day morning.

  I followed Ruby up and perched on a pew next to her. Above us was the trap door to the attic, where a giant wheel controlled a mechanism to raise and lower the central divider. The divider was kept raised except for the monthly business meetings, when it was lowered to allow the women to conduct their own business without the counsel or interference of men. I wasn’t in the habit of attending business meeting, as I was neither the clerk of a committee nor an elder.

  Ruby faced me, hands laced in her lap, her expression a serious one. “As clerk, I have been delegated by the Women’s Business Meeting to speak with thee. We are aware of thy betrothal to a gentleman from Newburyport.”

  Oh. So that was what this was about. The Women’s Business Meeting was in charge of overseeing marriages. I was about to be eldered, admonished for my choice of a partner. My heart sank.

  “A gentleman who is not a Friend,” she continued, “a man who worships at the First Religious Society of the Unitarian Church while his mother is a well-known Episcopalian.”

  “True. His name is David Dodge.” Also true that David displeased his mother, Clarinda, by attending services with the Unitarians in Newburyport. He’d told me he didn’t care for the trappings and beliefs of Clarinda’s church.

  “We have been waiting for thee to bring this matter to the attention of our monthly meeting for worship with attention to business, but thee has not.”

  Oh dear. Had my choice to wait offended the women?

  Ruby went on. “We want to be sure thee knows thy marrying this man will result in thee being read out of Meeting.” She sat with an erect back, her black dress severe against the pale, lined skin of her face.

  I swallowed. I knew being essentially expelled from Meeting was a possibility, but I’d hoped the women would be lenient with me. Weren’t times changing? And if I had spoken to them earlier, would they have been more understanding? I considered my words.

  “I’m aware of this practice, yes. And it’s why I’ve been slow to bring the matter to thee and the rest of the women. I intend to remain faithful to my Quaker values and to the teachings of our community, despite marrying out.”

  Ruby opened her mouth to speak, but I held up my hand. “If I might finish? David is a good soul of the highest integrity who believes in equality and embodies a simple, peaceful way of life despite his wealthy upbringing. I hope he might join us in worship one First Day soon.” My hands were damp with sweat despite the cool temperature up here.

  “Be that as it may. We are obliged to follow our long-established custom.” Her expression was cast in iron, perfectly matching the color of her hair.

  Were the women harboring resentment against me I wasn’t aware of ? Did they think it was unseemly I had helped the police solve more than one case of murder? “If this comes to pass, may I not appeal to be reinstated?” I’d heard of this possibility.

  She dipped her head once. “After a period of time passes, thee may write a letter making amends and we shall consider it.” She stood. “It’s highly irregular, what thee is considering, Rose. Thee must search deep in thy heart, and sit with this choice in prayer to discern whether this is God’s plan or thine.” She edged past me and disappeared down the staircase.

  I thought I’d searched deeply enough already. How could a love as strong and true as ours not be God’s plan? I could no longer imagine life without David.

  But could I also imagine life without my spiritual anchor, my lifelong faith, my community? If I were read out, my First Day mornings would be spent in solitary worship, and I’d be banned from this graceful structure that was so much more than a building. I’d always felt the walls themselves were infused with the Light of God. I’d likely not be called to deliver any Quaker babies during my expulsion, and I would have to hold my head high in the face of widespread disapproval. Even after David and I wed and I’d spent the requisite months on the outside, my letter of amends had no guarantee of being accepted. I doubted appealing to John Whittier independently for help would be taken well by the women. He was a liberal soul, not overly strict in adhering to practices that made no sense in these modern times. But marriage, for Friends, was the business of the women. Maybe there was a more sympathetic female elder I could ask for support.

  I closed my eyes and sat in prayer, per Ruby’s instruction. After several minutes I sighed and yanked them open again. It was no good. I felt I had waited for discernment long enough and my way was clear. Or was it? It was a way that would diverge from two hundred years of practice. Was I strong enough to brave the coming expulsion? Would David still want me if I was shunned from my faith? I’d been positive he would, but now I felt sure of nothing. My stomach churned, and my heart and mind were even more turbulent.

  I gazed down at the now-empty room, at the wooden pews polished by Quaker cloth, at the sixteen-foot-high ceiling. This edifice, now nearly two-score years old, had been built to last. Were both my faith and my love as sturdy?

  five

  I let David in the front door of the Bailey home at a few minutes before one o’clock, smiling at his handsome face and cheerful expression. It lifted my spirits just to cast my eyes on him. I’d tried to put my cares behind me after I’d cycled home from Meeting, helping Faith with the dinner and enjoying the simplicity of a life with children in the house. But my concerns about the eldering as well as the murder loomed heavy in the background.

  David was about to kiss me when eight-year-old Betsy skipped into the hallway holding Christabel in her arms.

  “There you are, little miss,” he said, reaching out to tousle her blond hair.

  “Good afternoon, David.” Her eyes gleamed. She reached out her small hand, which David shook, and the kitty jumped down.

  “Betsy, run help Faith set the table, please. I need to speak with David in private for a moment.”

  “Must I?” she asked plaintively.

  “Yes, you must,” David said. “And make sure you seat me next to you.”

  She brightened and skipped away.

  “First this,” he said, leaning in for a luscious kiss. “How’s my beautiful intended?” He asked, laying a hand on my cheek. “You look a bit weary.” He didn’t look at all tired. His deep blue eyes sparkled and his curly dark hair framed his face just right.

  “I am, at that. I was at a birth all night, and on my way home I discovered a woman dead. And then I was taken to task after Meeting for Worship.”

  “A body?” He turned serious. “This is serious news, Rose, and surely upsetting to you. I know you’ve seen death before, but it’s never easy.”

  “So true. I can tell thee the details after dinner, but I wanted to ask if thee knows an Oscar Felch from Amesbury. I believe he’s a physician.” His hearing the news of the body must have overshadowed my saying I’d been scolded, natural for a doctor. I could tell him about that later.

  “I am acquainted with him, yes. He lives on Greenwood Street here in Amesbury. Why do you ask?” When Christabel purred and wound herself around David’s legs, he reached down to pet her.

  “It was his wife, Rowena Felch, whom I found. And hers was not a natural death.”

  “You don’t say!” He straightened. “Another murder, Rosie?”

  I nodded. “She appeared to have been hit on the head. She was dragged under a lilac bush and left to die. Thee is certain the Felches live on Greenwood Street?”

  “Yes, it came up in conversation one time, I can’t remember how.”

  “So she must have been at her own home. The thing is, Oscar w
as nowhere to be found. I wondered if there’s a medical convention going on somewhere he might be attending.”

  David thought. “I don’t think so, but I can ask around at the hospital tomorrow.”

  “Thee will let me know? Or better, tell Kevin Donovan, please. He’s looking for the husband.”

  “Of course. I’ll call him.” David’s family, as well as the hospital and the police station, had installed telephones. The devices were becoming more and more common, but my brother-in-law Frederick hadn’t seen fit to acquire one for this house.

  “Rose,” Faith called from the back of the house. “Dinner’s ready.”

  I had been about to tell him the details of my being eldered by Ruby, but that could wait.

  “Shall we?” David crooked his elbow for my hand and we passed through into the sitting room.

  My brother-in-law, Frederick Bailey, stood when we came in. The two men shook hands and greeted one another. I left them and hurried into the kitchen, which doubled as dining room in this modest house. It was fragrant with the smells of fresh rolls, the rich casserole, sizzling meat, and cinnamon from the pies. Thirteen-year-old Luke stood talking with Zeb. Zeb, also a Friend, was tall, with dark intense eyes, and lived only a few blocks away. His brother Isaiah had tragically been killed in the fire of last spring, but Zeb hadn’t let his deep sorrow overtake his love for Faith or his caring manner for all.

  “Luke, look at thee,” I said. “Thee is nearly as tall as Zeb now.” It was true. Luke seemed to grow overnight these days, and both he and Zeb were on the skinny side.

  Luke flushed as Zeb measured the level of his head at Zeb’s shoulder. “It won’t be long now,” Zeb said with a smile.

  “Rose, can thee call the little boys,” Faith asked. “They’re outside.”

  “Matthew, Mark,” I called out the back door. “Dinner.”

  A moment later the ten-year-old twins clattered up the steps. “Come and wash,” I urged.

  “We’re hungry,” towheaded Mark said, standing in the open doorway.

  “Thee is letting the cold air in,” Frederick snapped. “Get in and do as thy aunt says.”

  When Matthew lowered his head and closed the door silently, my heart broke for the boy. Would his father ever learn to be kind to his sons?

  “I’m glad thee is hungry,” Faith said in a bright voice. She brought the potato casserole, steaming and covered with bubbling cheese, to the table.

  “I think I’m going to die if I don’t eat right this minute,” dark-haired Matthew added with great drama from where he and Mark stood at the sink.

  “Not until thy hands are clean,” I said. “Faith, I’ll get the chops.”

  “My mother’s fritters are in the oven, too, Rose, keeping warm,” Zeb said.

  After we were all nine of us seated in close quarters around the table, with Betsy happily on the other side of David, we joined hands and bowed our heads, as is our custom. A few moments of blessed silence passed before Frederick spoke.

  “May God watch over us and lead us in peaceful ways,” he said.

  May God lead me to peace with both David and Amesbury Friends, I added silently. And may we have no more murders in our fair town.

  The four younger children had finished their meal and gone off to play, or, in Luke’s case, to study for an examination. The table still held small plates with crumbs of pie and coffee cups.

  “Those apples were perfect, Zeb,” I said. “Thank thee so much for bringing them to us.”

  “The pies themselves were outstanding, too,” David said. “Excellent crust. Nice and short, as it should be. You’ll have to teach me how to make it, Rose.”

  I cocked my head. “I will be happy to. It takes a little practice, and requires a light hand so the dough doesn’t toughen, but it’s not too hard to learn. Faith is also quite accomplished in the pastry-making department.”

  Frederick frowned at David, which accentuated Frederick’s heavy forehead jutting out over his eyebrows. “Doesn’t thy family have a cook for that kind of thing?”

  “We do, of course,” David replied. “But I rather enjoy preparing food. So far I have only attempted savory dishes, but I’d like to learn to bake sweet dishes, too. You never know when it might come in handy.”

  Of course his well-off Newburyport family had a cook, and a driver, and several maids. I felt his hand cover mine under the table. A man wanting to cook despite all the comforts of his life. He was a prize seldom seen in our world. How I longed to marry and set up housekeeping with this most unusual of men. That rosy thought was slammed into a dark cellar by the memory of Ruby’s warning. I stared morosely at the table.

  “If we are to be equal in all ways, then not only should women have the right to vote,” Zeb said. Zeb was another gem, but he was at least a lifelong Friend, immersed in notions of equality from a young age. “But men should also be free to make meals for their families, should they choose.”

  Faith beamed at him. “I’m going to the woman suffrage demonstration at the polling place Tuesday with Rose.”

  When David turned to me with raised eyebrows, I nodded, trying to shake off my gloom.

  “Truly?” Zeb asked Faith. “I’m proud of thee.”

  “I’m not so sure I am, Faith,” her father said. “It could be dangerous. And thee must perform thy job.”

  “She said she’ll inform her manager,” I said. “I support her standing in solidarity with the women of Amesbury. She’s not a little girl any longer, Frederick.”

  He pursed his lips. “Our family needs Faith’s pay. Thee knows we do, Rose.”

  It was true. I contributed what I could to the household expenses, but feeding and clothing five children, all but Faith growing nearly as fast as Luke, was a costly enterprise. At least my mother sewed them each new pieces of clothing when the children visited the farm every summer for a month.

  “But Father, Granny Dot is coming for the demonstration, too.” Faith looked earnestly at him.

  “What? How did I not know of this news?” Frederick folded his arms.

  “I only learned about it this morning when I opened a letter which arrived yesterday,” I said. “She’ll be in on the evening train tomorrow.” I was even gladder now. I couldn’t wait to discuss the eldering with her, and imagined my independent free-spirited mother would be incensed at the news.

  “She can share Betsy’s bed,” Faith said. “They’ll both like that.”

  “Now then,” Frederick began. “Of course I am in favor of ladies being able to vote. But this demonstration business is a sham. Nothing will be accomplished. You’ll only get in the way of the legal voters.”

  “All men,” Faith muttered.

  “And if the men get it in their minds to turn violent, why, quite a few ladies could be hurt,” Frederick went on. “I won’t have Faith going, and I’d advise thee not to, either, Rose. Not to mention my mother-

  in-law.”

  I set my coffee cup down with a bit too much force, glad it was empty or the tablecloth would have been stained by the dark brew sloshing out. “Listen, Frederick. Thee knows Friends have long been in the forefront of the suffrage movement. We women must show up in great numbers for this kind of event.” I was starting to sound like my mother. “It makes a bold statement to the local community and to the world at large. I heard at the meeting reporters from the Boston newspapers will be present taking photographs and reporting on the gathering. Faith needs to be there, too, if she wants to be.”

  He glowered and shook his head, slowly, three times. “No.”

  I nearly bit my tongue. I was too tired to keep the peace, though, even though I knew silence was the wiser path. “Harriet would have wanted her to be there. Thee is dishonoring her by not letting Faith go.”

  Frederick stood so fast he knocked his chair over backwards. “Don’t thee dare.” He pointed a shaki
ng finger at me. “Don’t thee dare invoke my dead wife’s name. And don’t thee dare think to tell me how to raise my daughter.” He grabbed his hat and stormed out of the house.

  six

  Faith sat slumped in her chair, Zeb’s arm around her shoulders.

  “I’m sorry, Faith,” I said. “I shouldn’t have pushed back so hard.” Frederick was justified to be concerned about Faith’s safety, although he had a lot of nerve telling me not to invoke my own sister’s name.

  “Of course thee should have,” she said. “And thee was right. Mother would have wanted me to go. It’s Father who should apologize. But he won’t. He never does.” She straightened, chin in the air. “I’m going Tuesday, anyway. He can’t stop me.”

  “Perhaps your grandmother can talk sense into Mr. Bailey,” David suggested. “She’s a forthright character, but also has a soothing effect. At least I felt that when I met her last July.” He’d traveled to Lawrence to formally ask my father for my hand in marriage, even though he’d already asked me and I’d said yes.

  “A good idea.” I nodded. “She does have a calming effect, doesn’t she?” I could use a bit of calm right about now. Anger at Frederick vied with sorrow at the way he often let his temper flare up at his own children, especially his sons, who were really quite well behaved and did not deserve such treatment by their only remaining parent.

  “I look forward to being able to vote when I turn twenty-one next year,” Zeb said. “Surely women will have the vote by the next presidential election.”

  “And we can go to the polls together to cast our ballots,” Faith said, tucking her hand through his arm.

  “David, who will thee vote for on Tuesday?” Zeb asked.

  “I’m in favor of keeping President Cleveland in office,” David said. “I agree with him that high tariffs are unfair to working folk.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Benjamin Harrison’s looking out for his rich industrialist friends.”

  “At the Parry Carriage Factory, a number of my fellow factory workers support Harrison. But if I could vote today,” Zeb said, “I think I would also vote for Grover Cleveland. Our economy prospers and the nation is at peace. Those are important factors.”