The Last Honest Seamstress (29 page)

All classes of prostitutes, from the lady boarders at Lou's genteel parlor house, to the girls in the cribs of the Tenderloin, played this to full advantage—free advertising! Ambitious working girls wrote their names and work addresses, often along with their fees, on the bottom of their shoes. Strolling along the walks and pausing over the skylights became the daily routine. Any woman who walked across the skylights was assumed to be a whore.

Fayth was furious. Her attempts to improve the business district had instead emphasized her dubious location. Faithful customers were no longer spat upon—they were forced to step out into muddy streets to avoid the skylights, laughed at by prostitutes who strolled boldly over the glass. And as for prostitution, Fayth had inadvertently aided the very profession she wanted to eliminate.

On Con's first day back in town, Con, Fayth and Coral strolled side by side through the business district on their way to Fayth's shop. Con talked on about his new mail contract. Fayth listened and smiled, happy to have him home, eager to have him. Eager to believe the whore on the ship had been some kind of favor to Lou for the gossip she imparted to him.
 

She made up her mind during his absence, that consequences be hanged, she wanted him. Fayth kept remembering his words when he had proposed—a wild and reckless time. A wild and reckless time indeed. But wasn't love always?

Though once it had seemed that they worked at cross-purposes where Lou was concerned, Fayth no longer had reason to suspect him. The coming statehood celebration, when Washington State would be welcomed into the Union, would be the perfect time to celebrate. How to hold him off until then became the question. Fayth smiled to herself. Between Coral and Con, they seemed to be making a romantic of her.

She walked on the outside of the threesome, in the street to avoid the skylights. Con walked in the middle. A man didn't need to avoid the things. Coral walked on the inside. She strutted boldly over. Half the men in town had seen her goods anyway. She laughed at Fayth's modesty.

"What are they going to see, Fayth?" Coral asked. "The soles of your shoes and yards and yards of frilly white petticoats? That's hardly titillating to a man, is it, Con?"

Coral's familiarity with the Captain annoyed Fayth and swept her up in the dust of jealousy. Coral shouldn't be making sexual references. How was she going to train the coarseness out of that girl?

"It's impolite to put the Captain in a position of revealing his personal tastes, and he can hardly speak for all men," Fayth answered for him.

"Fayth equates walking over the skylights with walking through fire," Coral said.

"No, I don't. I've done that, not so very long ago. And while it was frightening, it wasn't humiliating."

Con didn't speak.

With a rebellious look, Coral stomped on a skylight she passed over. "You rode through the fire under the secure cover of a wet blanket. It was our courageous Captain who faced the fire head on."

Fayth smiled sadly at her. Who could tame Coral?

They reached Fayth's new building, which stood two stories high, and thanks to council regulations, now had a basement. She unlocked the door and let them in with a look of satisfied triumph. "Complete, finished. Come see the second story. They installed the last of the fixtures yesterday." She led the way and stood back to watch as Coral and the Captain exclaimed over the latest details.

"Very nice, Fayth," Con said from the window where he looked out over the street. "Looks like our luck is turning. You've got a building, and I have my mail run."

He looked handsome silhouetted against the window. "These rooms or part of them could be nicely done up for Coral."

"Coral?"

"Yes, she should have a place of her own," the Captain said.

Fayth looked between the two. They looked like guilty conspirators. "No. I'm sorry, Coral, but I'm going to rent the space out. I need the money."

The Captain shrugged. "Coral doesn't need more than a single room. That still leaves plenty of space to rent."

"We'll discuss this later." How had she married such a conniving man?

Later that afternoon Fayth stood at the living-room window of their home, looking out past evergreens and nearly leafless alders toward Puget Sound. Coral had gone out. The Captain sat on a sofa behind her.
 

"When you're home, do you miss the sea?" She let the lace curtain fall into place over the window and stepped back, turning to look at him.

"Yes, and no."

"I heard Billy and some of the men grumbling about the mail runs. Billy told me you never wanted to be a mailman. What changed your mind?"

His laugh was almost a snort. "The fire, darling."

"Didn't it change us all? I hate to think of you giving up something you love."

"So do I." His gaze pierced.
 

As was so often the case, she suspected his words had double meaning.
 

"The government mail subsidies pay well. They're steady, reliable income."

"Yes, steady, reliable."

"I'm proud of you, Fayth. Look what you accomplished while I was gone. The building's finished, the sidewalks covered, and the streets of Seattle are graced with women in colorful new gowns."

"You flatter me. But let's not talk about those sidewalks. I still might storm into Lou's someday and give those councilmen a piece of my mind." She sat in a chair opposite him. "We need to talk about the building and Coral."

"I was afraid it would come around to that. It's time Coral was on her own."

What could she say? She had promised him. Still, she wasn't quite ready to let her go. "I'm worried about Coral. How does she look to you?"

"A little plumper, nice and healthy."

"A little plumper! She eats like she did at Lou's, drinks a quart of milk at a sitting, but she doesn't get half the exercise. She's filled out so much, she's outgrown the dresses I made for her just months ago." Fayth sighed. "She hasn't been happy here since you left."
 

She tried not to sound jealous, but she resented how the Captain could always keep Coral in good spirits.
 

"She complains that the house is too quiet. There are no parties, no professor to play the piano. No servants, no cook. No men to pay her pretty compliments. She flirts mercilessly with any man who comes to the shop. Fortunately, most of the business these days is sewing for women.

"I don't know how to please her. She hasn't been paying Lou. You should see all the new baubles and trinkets she's purchased. I paid Lou myself last month. What if she falls back into the business?" She crossed her arms, and caught herself rubbing them as if to ward off cold thoughts.

"I wouldn't worry about her. She's been on her own before. Let her move to the shop."

"I don't know. She's irresponsible. And still girlish. She plays foolish little tricks." Fayth shook her head, remembering her confrontation with Coral earlier in the week.

Fayth had just closed the shop and retired to her desk. Coral was in the storeroom straightening up. Fayth felt something stuck in the sole of her boot. She took it off to examine it. When she turned it over, she found the words,
Con, I desire you tragically
, penned on the bottom. She pulled off the other to find a companion message.
For a good time, meet me at home. Anytime. Fayth.
Blast! On her best pair of boots.
 

"Coral!"

Coral had come running.
 

Fayth pointed to her shoes in disgust. "What is the meaning of this?"

"You only just noticed?" Coral struggled for control of her giggles.

"How long has this message been here?"

"Two days, but what do you have to worry about? You never walk over the skylights. Oh, Fayth, you should see your face."

Coral broke into a full laugh, little tears crowding the corners of her eyes. "I was only trying to help."

"Help?"

"Anyone can see how much you miss him. Why don't you just admit it? Seduce him when he gets back."

"What makes you think I want to?"

Coral dabbed the tears away with the back of her hand. "I've seen you study him, Fayth, and I've watched you hang on his every word. You love that man."

"He's a handsome man. Too handsome." Fayth laughed "What have I told you about attractive men?"

"Never trust them. So don't trust him, love him."

Fayth laughed again. "I see I'm going to have a hard time turning you away from your romantic notions. Will this ink come off?"

"Might wear off. Keep your feet on the ground, Fayth, and no one will ever see the message. That shouldn't be hard for a realist like you."

Later that night Fayth pitched the shoes into the back of her closet, wondering whether she could paint over the words. But she couldn't help smiling just a little. Coral did have a sense of humor, and a disturbingly clear insight into Fayth's preoccupation with the Captain. That night she had decided, why fight it? She would welcome him into her bed.

Fayth's thoughts returned to the present. "Captain, can we wait until after the statehood celebration to decide about Coral?"

"If that's what you want, Fayth. But let's not delay long."

"The celebration's only a few days away." She paused. "I hate to lose her. It's so quiet when you're at sea. I'll be lonely."

"You won't, darling. Now that I'm going to be running local mail, I'll be gone only days at a time. I'll be here to keep you company."

A last shaft of late November sunlight cut through Fayth's curtained window, fueling her spirits with its brilliance as she dressed for dinner. She smoothed her hand over the skirt of her newest creation, an evening gown of white India silk with three-quarter length sleeves trimmed with yellow velvet roses. The V-neck scooped low in front and back. Ribbons and bows of yellow velvet drooped from the upper and lower edges of the bodice. Three rows of ribbon outlined the train.

Just as the last of the light faded, she fluffed her crimped bangs and arranged the loose tendrils that curled at the back of her neck under an elaborate bun. Tonight he was taking her to dinner at a large party at the Occidental. Tomorrow they'd take the train to Olympia for the official celebration.

She would let Coral move to the shop. She'd tell him tonight. Would he see it for what it was, a desire to remove the barriers she had put up between them? She hoped so. Fayth grabbed her wrap.

She heard voices in the kitchen, and prepared to meet them with a fluttery heart. His voice. Fayth smiled to herself. He always came back, and unlike Drew, the Captain always took care of her. Hadn't he gotten her the money for the second story? Didn't he help her get the original loan? She smoothed her skirt and took a deep breath before breaking from the hall into the kitchen.

"Fayth, you look stunning." The Captain's voice was deep, warm, and barely perceptibly tentative. He studied her with the same hopeful manner that in the past had always confused her. Today, she hoped she read it correctly. Could it be? Was his calm unflappability cracking ever so slightly? Did she read desire there? "Seeing you looking so fine makes me glad President Harrison proclaimed Washington a state."

"Thank you."

"The carriage is parked just outside the door." He held her wrap, before offering her his arm. "You just missed Coral. She left with her escort, a respectable looking young fellow. Told me not to worry about her, or wait up."

"Aren't they all? The little scamp." Coral had never had a dinner engagement before. Had Coral and the Captain schemed behind Fayth's back? Fayth hoped so. "That means we're alone?"

"All alone."

Chapter 12

At the Occidental, Fayth and the Captain sat in the new dining room with the elite, in plain view of all. Fayth enjoyed the attention, especially that paid her by the Captain. Later, she would show him how much.

Green and yellow satin ribbons and flags festooned the heavily decorated room, hanging from every corner and table and nook. Rhododendrons in shades Fayth had never seen before adorned each table in lush bunches of lavender, pink, magenta, and green. The podium up front spilled over with them. Fayth wondered where the hotel staff had procured so many of the out of season flowers.

"Well, it's not Wong's," the Captain said, "but the food here will have to do."

She hesitated, but she had to ask. "Memories of the time we dined there together before don't . . . embarrass you?"

"Never."

What was he telling her? Had he been flattered by her marriage proposal? A girl could hope.

The Captain ordered for them both. As the waiter served their meal, Seattle's mayor stepped up to the podium and began the evening with one of many long speeches. At first intermission, the waiter came to clear the dishes. The Captain reached across the table and took Fayth's hand.

"Do you want to stay for the dancing?" The Captain didn't look enthusiastic about the prospect.

"Something tells me you don't."

"It's not the dancing, Fayth. It's the long prelude of speeches that we'll be forced to endure first. A man can only take so much of politicians jabbering. I've had my fill. I'm stiff from sitting, smiling, nodding, and feigning interest in what they have to say."