CHAPTER 3 - THE SEWING HOUSE
Emancipation is not always freedom
“Hello, Marge!” The women said in unison, grinning as they stepped through the threshold and into an aromatic bouquet unique to this shop. A complex, yet subtle, citrusy burst of Italian bergamot induced a lively mood. Lavender notes soon came to the fore, adding a layer of floral richness, and bringing a soothing comfort to the customers.
A diminutive silver-haired woman with an outsized personality greeted Penny, Susan Decatur and Minerva Rodgers immediately upon their entry into her sewing house. “Susan! Minerva! My two best customers visiting me at the same time! Delightful!” She wrapped Penny in a tight hug, squeezed and stepped back, still holding her hands. “Goodness gracious! Gracious goodness! You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman in front of my eyes!”
“I just love coming here!” Susan wrapped Marge in a tight hug. “It’s been way too long!”
“Ooomph.” Marge happily endured the squeeze, but stepped away before being completely squished and showed a pair of dress forms. “Both of your dresses are ready for the party season. They are ready for you to try on.”
“Wonderful! But.” Minerva put her arm around Penny’s waist. “We’re here to prepare Penny for the season.”
“Goodness gracious! Gracious goodness! This is a wonderful day indeed!” Marge took a moment to make a quick assessment. “My assistant can take her measurements while I pull some fabrics and patterns for consideration.”
Susan pulled a pair of trousers from a rack. “I’m trying to convince Minerva that we should wear pants the next time we visit our husbands on their boats. My dress always catches on some protuberance and tears.”
“Susan! Pants?!”
“Yes, Marge, and maybe a nice shirt and a waistcoat?”
The seamstress laughed as she put her arm playfully around Minerva’s waist. “How many dresses have you brought into me to have repaired? Some torn in places we shouldn’t mention?”
Minerva blushed many shades of red. “True.”
It took several minutes for the women’s laughter to die down enough for Marge to speak. “Alright. Let’s get to it then. You know where the dressing rooms are. When you are ready, see Tonya in the fitting room.”
A young girl with brown skin brought a sheaf of dress patterns to Marge. “Thank you, Ruthie. Would you like to help us choose the fabric?”
“Oh! Yes, Miss Marge. I can do it.” Ruthie’s eyes flashed with pride.
“Prove to me you learn what you’re taught, and I will give you more responsibility and raise your pay.”
Ruthie gave a little squeal of delight and led Penny over to a room full of bolts of cloth. Under Marge’s watchful eye, she pulled one bolt of peach, one of mint green, and one of sunny yellow. Then laid them on a table along with the sheaf of patterns next to a mirror. She beckoned Penny over. “Miss Penny? May I?”
“Of course, Ruthie.” Penny walked over in front of the mirror. “Which one first?”
Ruthie and Penny exuberantly buried themselves deep into conversation, matching fabric against skin, and flipping through the patterns.
Susan came out of a dressing room, stood on the fitting platform beside Marge and caught her gaze in a mirror. “Where did you find such a lovely soul?”
“We received an invitation to have dinner at the Carroll house.” The seamstress carefully surveyed the fit of the dress.
“Really? Neither me nor Minerva have ever received an invitation from Mister Carroll. And we’ve been friends with him for quite a while. Heavens. We just had lunch with him today at Travelers Fare.”
“Jealous?” Marge managed a smile, even with several pins in her mouth.
“Oh no, Marge. Not at all. Just surprised.” Susan pouted. “Of course, I’m jealous.”
“You should’ve seen my husband’s face when I showed him the invitation.” Marge walked Susan to the dressing room pins out of her mouth before she laughed. “It took me an hour to convince him I wasn’t playing a joke.”
Susan giggled. “So, what was it like?”
“Elaborate and luxurious in the public rooms and austere in his private study.” Marge pinned a strategic point on the dress, making it fit perfectly. “It quickly became obvious that Mister Carroll had a specific purpose in mind.” She nodded toward her assistant. “Ruthie.”
“Oh? Ruthie came from Mister Carroll?” Susan spun a little while watching the mirror. “This dress is wonderful.”
“Thank you, dear. I do so love making your dresses. You like them to push the fashion a bit. I really enjoy that challenge.” Marge straightened, and both ladies looked at the dress in the mirror. “Mister Carroll has a reputation for recognizing potential. Apparently, he saw that in Ruthie’s work and realized that she could excel as a seamstress far beyond any challenge he could provide as a master.”
“I’m listening.” Susan narrowed her brow. “I think I am missing something. But I am listening.”
“Mister Carroll called her over to the table and signed her emancipation papers right in front of us. Ruthie fell on her knees and tears streamed down her cheek. Her lips moved, but she couldn’t speak. He signed two sets, gave the first to her, then rolled the other up, sealed it, and gave it to us, along with a purse. In that purse was enough money to make a room for her in our house and pay her wages for the first year.”
Susan cut a glance to Ruthie at her station and kept her voice low. “What else did he tell you?”
“That’s the oddest part.” Marge shrugged. “He only said that he was working on an idea and that he would do more of the same.”
Susan put her hands on her hips, watching in the mirror as she turned again in her dress. “Complicated doesn’t even describe that man.”
“Tell me about it.” Marge spoke softly into Susan’s ear. “He also told us to be leery about letting her go outside this building after dark.”
“What? Why?” Susan whispered. “Isn’t that missing to the whole point of emancipation?”
Marge shook her head. “Mister Carroll thinks that some unscrupulous slave traders may kidnap newly freed slaves to be sold back into slavery. He says their value is rising quickly because plantations in the deep south are expanding and the need for slaves in the Maryland tobacco fields is decreasing.”
“Minerva and I may have encountered them outside the tavern.” Susan stepped down from the fitting platform. “Mister Carroll and Senator Smith walked out right after they walked in. Both of them were stone-faced and said nothing as they went by us.”
“What did they look like?”
Susan watched Marge in the mirror. “Blonde hair, too long to be fashionable and too short to be attractive. He dressed like a foppish dandy we see at parties all the time and looked cocksure of himself.”
“The other one?”
“Big, burly, and gruff.”
Marge stared back at Susan in the mirror. “I think I have seen them. Did the big one have a puffy, red, and angry face?”
Susan nodded emphatically. “That’s the one.”
“I see the dandy walk by here every day, but never at the same time. And I’ve seen the big one with him only twice.”
“That little pinch right there makes it fit perfectly, Tonya. Thank you!”
Tonya slipped one more pin through the fabric and stood back. “You’re welcome, Mrs. Rodgers. I’ll have it ready tomorrow. You wear it very well.”
Minerva giggled and curtsied. “John may not let me wear it long.”
“Minerva!” Susan put her hand over her mouth. “And I thought I was bad! Still waters run deep.”
“Which is why I married a sailor.” Minerva slipped her arm through Penny’s. “And is why we must find the right sailor for you, dear.”
“Wait! What?!” Penny’s ponytail bounced as she shook her head. “Why is everyone so interested in my social life today?”
Susan linked with Penny’s other arm. “Because, dear friend, you deserve the best. Well-trained young navy officers make the best husbands.”
“But. But.” Penny’s head swiveled from one to the other.
“Relax dear.” Minerva winked. “You’ll pick the one you want. We’re just going to line them up for you.”
Susan giggled. “Trust us. They’ll never know what happened.”
Penny sighed. “I don’t know who’s worse, you two or Mister Carroll.”
“Oh, we are, for certain.” Minerva exchanged mischievous glances with Susan. “Come, I need to stop by Vogel’s and put an order in for John.”
Susan called over her shoulder. “Thank you, Marge! We’ll see you and your girls tomorrow.”
Penny bit her lip. Heavens! These two are relentless matchmakers. Penny! What did you get yourself into this time? “If you’re going to Vogel’s, I need to stop by the tavern and pick up dinner for them.”
Minerva closed the door behind them. “Dinner?”
“Bonita, our best cook, has a younger brother who is apprenticing there. Mister Vogel and Ezra concentrate so hard that they lose track of time and forget to eat.”
Susan stopped in her tracks. “The watchmaker loses track of time?”
Minerva smiled and shook her head. “I’ll let him explain it.”
#
Meanwhile. Enlarged by a magnifying glass hovering over them, small brown fingers nimbly pieced together tiny parts of a disassembled argand lamp while the lad himself sang something resembling a sea shanty.
“Wick to the center, snug and round,
Oil in the belly where heat is found.
Turn the screw ‘til the burner’s tight,
Chimney goes high for the drawin’ light!”
The master tradesman patted the lad’s shoulder. “Sehr gut, Ezra. Music in your fingers, ja? Clever hand and clever head!”
Ezra smiled his brightest smile and continued his work.
“Brass don’t lie, and glass won’t bend,”
“Set it wrong and you’ll start again.”
“Steady hands and even flame,”
“Make Mister Vogel call your name!”
Laughing, Matthias Vogel put his hands on his hips and surveyed his shop. A slight man with wavy and white-streaked gray hair and a Quaker’s taste, or lack thereof, for fashion turned toward a scratching sound behind a storage cabinet. “Pascal! Komm! Maus hunt, ja?”
A black and white tuxedo cat hopped out of a nearby barrel, yawned, and stretched.
Matthias picked up a long, polished wooden dowel, then tapped the cabinet. “Pascal. Maus. Hunt. Earn your keep. Ja?”
The tiny bell above the shop door dinged, catching the tradesman’s attention, and sent Pascal back into the barrel. “Pascal! Ach! Trickster!”
“Maybe he’s rebelling because you haven’t fed him, or yourself, yet?”
Matthias blew a loud “thpppt” through his lips and at the cat, then turned toward the door, his round spectacles sliding down his nose. “Willkommen, Fräulein Rollings! Frau Decatur. Frau Rodgers. You honor my little shop.”
Ezra sprang up from his chair, a bright, wide smile spread across his face. He greeted Penny with a rich voice in his joyful sea shanty cadence. “Hey-ho, Miss Penny, bright as the day! What’d ye bring us, what’d ye say?” Then ran to her and gripped her in a vise-like hug.
Penny handed her basket to a wide-eyed Minerva and clasped the boy. In Ezra’s cadence, she sang, “Hug one. Hug two. Hug three. That’s enough love to set us free!”
Minerva shot a look at Susan, took the basket over to the workbench Matthias just cleared. Both ladies happily set the table, served the soup, plated the sandwiches, and poured the drinks. Matthias stood patiently at one end and Ezra stood at the other, leaning his head against Penny’s arm.
Penny stroked his head and took her seat next to him. “Mister Vogel, you are in luck. Bonita sent over some of her wonderful crab soup and Ezra’s favorite, chicken and bread, folded into delightful pieces. And there’s plenty for all of us and Pascal too.”
Matthias put both hands over his heart. “Danke, Fraulein.”
Minerva served Matthias his soup and chicken piece. “John wanted me to place an order with you for nautical weather instruments.”
“You honor me again, Frau Rodgers. I will fill the order with pride.” Again, he held his hands over his heart. “Danke.”
Susan served the soup to a beaming Ezra, then cut a folded chicken piece in half and set the plate next to his soup. She took a step backwards when she saw the flicker in Ezra’s eyes and his fingers drumming the table.
Ezra’s face transformed into horror and pushed himself away from the table so hard he fell backward onto the floor. Still recoiling, he cried out. “No! Broke! Can’t fix!”
Susan and Minerva both froze in place, mouths agape.
Penny calmly stood up and held her hand out to Ezra. “I’m sorry Ezra. She meant that one for me. I’ll get yours for you.”
Ezra’s eyes and body immediately softened. He took her hand, stood up, and re-seated himself. Penny caressed his shoulders and smiled at Susan as she pulled a folded, but uncut, chicken piece from the basket and sat it before him. Still unsure, he looked up at both older women. And they both looked at Penny.
Penny smiled at them, tilted her head toward Ezra, then nodded. Susan and Minerva looked at each other and then smiled warmly at the boy. With a sigh of relief, Ezra happily bit into it and, still chewing, smiled back.
Matthias cleared his throat. “I hesitate to raise suspicion without cause, but I have observed a certain man, blond-haired, overdressed and the sort who wears scent in the morning, watching Ezra.”