February 13
5:55 p.m.
One would think she'd be grateful for a moment to sit still and recuperate, but no, Rosemary would rather be doing anything than sitting here doing nothing. She glanced at the clock again, just as she had done the last umpteenth times in the last half hour. Surely, if someone was observing her they would think she was a ball of nervous energy awaiting a monumental moment, but alas, she was just simply bored and awaiting something, anything to give her cause to get up from this wretched craft of needlepoint. She wrinkled her nose at the project in her lap, and the needle and thread poised between two fingers. It was supposed to be a nice display of a basket, complete with ripening fruit, but at this point it looked more like a jumble of misshapen curves and threads, not too unlike her nerves. From the rocking chair perched in the corner of the row house's parlor, Harriet regarded her, needlepoint in hand, her eyebrow raising.
"Rosemary, is something the matter?" She dipped her needle back into the fabric and pulled it back through.
Rosemary lifted her head up from her needlepoint. After a deep sigh, she all but threw it onto the nearby cushion. "I guess my fingers don't know what to do with the needle this evening."
Harriet gave her a kind smile. "We have been quite busy this week with all the last minute dress orders that have come in for the dance. Perhaps you are tired? I can watch the roast in the oven if you'd like to lay down for a few moments."
"No, I'm not particularly tired in the least." She waved her hand as if to dispel all notions of tiredness.
"Perhaps you are restless because of all the anticipation for tomorrow's dance." Lee, who was sitting on the settee across the room, tapped the pipe to his mouth.
She shrugged.
Lee continued, "If it is entertainment you are after, I could read to you aloud from the newspaper." Lee lifted the paper from his knee. "There's this one story—"
Rosemary shook her head. "I'm afraid not, dear. I'll just check the roast and then perhaps I'll just step outside for a breath of fresh air to clear my thoughts."
She could feel both Lee and Harriet's eyes on her as she walked to the kitchen and opened the oven door, slicing the knife into the tender beef roast. It was still a bit too pink, but perhaps another ten minutes and it would be perfect. She closed the oven and made her way to the front door. Some fresh air would do her good. Despite all the projects this last week held: the preparations for the Valentine's Dance, the dresses were mended, and the house chores, the icing of the cakes today's at Abigail's— Rosemary couldn't help but wish for something more to do, perhaps something a bit more pizzaz filled and exciting. This week, although wonderful, had been a bit more routine and filled with work. Maybe Lee was right, she was just fidgety because of the anticipation of tomorrow's event.
Just as she reached for the door knob of the front door, a knock came from the other side, causing her to jump.
Lee glanced up from his paper. "A visitor?"
She longed to peer through the door, but they hadn't a peephole, something she would make sure was in their new door at the new house. "Perhaps it is one of the men from the work crew today. Didn't you say the men were working on the house this evening?"
Lee nodded. "Could be, but they said they were about finished when I left." He took the pipe from his mouth and stood.
She motioned to him to stay put, that she would answer the door.
She swept the door open.
There before her stood Hickam, complete with a pressed white shirt and bowtie with Faith on his arm. He grinned that lopsided grin of his as he peered into the house.
What on earth was the twosome was doing on their porch tonight— the night before the big dance? Oh pish posh, what did that matter— she was grateful for the distraction.
She cleared her throat. "Hickam, Faith— what a surprise to have you stop by. Please come in."
Lee stood up and crossed the room, where he shook Hickam's hand. "So what brings the two of you out here? I know you—" he addressed Hickam, "were on the work crew at our new home tonight. Rosie and I can't thank you enough for offering to help us out."
Hickam shuffled his feet. "No problem at all, Mr. Coulter, sir. But actually, tonight's visit… well, we have a favor to ask." Hickam said looking back to Faith.
"Oh, sure, my man. What can we help you with?" Lee picked up his pipe from it's tray next to the table.
"Well, actually…" Hickam's voice cracked. "We were wondering… we know it is last minute-"
"Yes, extremely last minute," Faith interjected.
"But we were talking of the dance and thought, well, that perhaps Mrs. Coulter would make a fine teacher…" Hickam's voice died out.
"What he means to say is… would you, Mrs. Coulter, be willing to teach us to dance?" Faith put a hand on Hickam's arm.
"Oh…" Rosemary gripped Lee's arm. "We'd be delighted to! Wouldn't we, Lee?"
Lee looked longingly back at his paper perched on the settee and then shrugged. "Why not. Least I can do for all of Hickam's extra hours of help around the house."
Faith clapped her hands, "Oh, thank you! Now, I have danced before, but it has been awhile since I've danced to the tune of this fine instrument." She said nodding to the stenograph perched on the end table across the room.
"Yes, well," Rosemary motioned to the machine, "There is just one little problem…I can't get the stenograph to play. It's making the most horrid chugging noise."
Hickam's eyes lit up like a man with a challenge. "Oh, may I take a look?" At Rosemary's nod, he walked over to the table with the stenograph on it and began to tinker with it. "Mr. Coulter, sir, do you have some paraffin?"
Lee raised an eyebrow. "Ah, yes, I think I do."
He walked over to the desk and opened the drawer, bringing out a can of the wax.
Hickam pulled the handkerchief from his shirt pocket, dabbed the edge into the wax, and then rubbed the stenograph disc in gentle circles. "That ought to do it," he said folding the handkerchief and placing it back in his pocket.
Rosemary approached the stenograph. She'd already tried waxing the disc, but she wouldn't mention it. It'd just make Hickam feel foolish. She grabbed the crank, fully not expecting it to work, and began to wind it a good thirty times or so. Lo and behold, the horn started to emit the catchy tune!
"Why look at that!" She remarked, stepping back.
"Hickam, I do say you have the golden touch." Lee slapped him on the back.
"Now for the dancing—" Rosemary caught Lee's hand with her own, "You are going to dance with me, aren't you, Mr. Coulter?"
Lee gave her a saucy smile. "You better bet your boots on it, Mrs. Coulter."
Lee took her in his arms and there, in front of Hickam, Faith, and Harriet, they danced the "Uncle Tom One Step". Rosemary worked to keep up with quick steps and twirls. It was a most modern dance, one they had learned last summer on their brief trip out East. All too soon the song was over and applause met her ears while she struggled to catch her breath.
"Bravo! Who knew the two of you knew how to dance like that?" Hickam laughed, a look of awe on his face.
"I do say that is some of the best dancing I have seen since Hamilton." Nurse Faith added, her eyes wide with wonder.
"Well, right after supper, we will teach you every move. You will be the envy of all the couples at the Valentine's Day Dance tomorrow." She smiled and straightened her blouse.
"Oh, we couldn't possibly impose. We didn't realize you hadn't had supper yet—" Faith looked to Hickam who nodded his agreement.
"It is not an imposition, but rather an invitation. Please say yes. I have just been itching for something fun and adventurous to come my way." She gripped Faith's hand and led her to the dining table.
Faith looked at Hickam, who looked to Lee. "We truly didn't mean to interrupt—"
Lee shook his head. "No, it's no interruption at all. In fact, it sounds like your visit is the answer to Rosemary's prayer."
"Supper time!" Rosemary clapped her hands together and carefully pulled the roast from the oven rack, the savory smells emitting through the room.
While the younger couple turned to the washbasin to clean up, and Harriet busied herself with setting the table, Lee approached her from behind and laid a quick kiss on her neck as she sliced into the beef.
"What was that for?" She whispered to him, throwing a look to the young couple.
"Young love. Being around those two reminds me of our courting days, and well, I just have to say I am the luckiest man alive to end up with you, Rosie." His whiskers tickled her neck.
She dropped the utensil and turned around, looping her hands around his neck. "I hope you like your roast with a big dose of romance on the side, because that's what's coming up for you, Mr. Coulter. But first, you have to keep up with my two step." She brushed his lips with her own before returning to the plates and serving up the meal.