thirteen

I bounced on my heels on the platform at the Water Street train depot as the Boston and Maine steamed in. The scream of its brakes announced the arrival and steam billowed white into the night sky as if in a celestial celebration. I couldn’t wait to see Mother. We’d never experienced the mother-daughter conflicts many of my friends had. I’d long admired my unconventional parent for her disregard of the tongues that wagged when she became active in the suffrage movement. She was honest and funny and energetic, and I loved her.

A minute later I spied her climbing down from the third car and I waved, hurrying in her direction. Silver hair peeked out from a rich maroon bonnet matching her cloak, and her eyes shone. Friends were admonished to wear plain dress free of adornment, but she’d always told me the practice didn’t mean we had to wear drab colors, too.

“Rosie, darling.” She set down her valise and embraced me.

I’d grown a couple of inches taller than Mother in my teen years, and it still seemed odd she was shorter than me. I hugged her, feeling her strong slender back under my hands.

“I’m so glad thee came,” I said. “How was the trip?” I pushed up my spectacles and lifted her case.

“Oh, thee knows the route. I had to change four times—in Bradford, Georgetown, and Salisbury—and it seemed to take all day. But I’m here now and that’s all that counts.”

“The children are beside themselves with excitement. And Faith has decided to come to the demonstration tomorrow, as well.”

“Excellent. She’s plenty old enough.”

“Frederick doesn’t think so. Let’s go home and thee can see for thyself.” As we walked arm in arm, I filled her in on yesterday’s argument and my subsequent extraction of my brother-in-law from the saloon.

She made a tsking sound. “I never did understand what Harriet saw in Frederick. But he’s part of the family now. I’ll have a word with him about the drink.”

“Good luck.” While Frederick had seemed penitent, I doubted her word would have much effect. On the other hand she could be persuasive. It might work.

“So, my darling, I read in the Lawrence Sun American Amesbury’s had another murder, and the story said the body was discovered by a local midwife. I suppose such midwife might have been thee?”

“In fact it was. I haven’t had time to look at the papers. I wonder if the Amesbury and Salisbury Villager or the Newburyport papers said the same.” I wrinkled my nose. I didn’t mind investigating murders as an amateur, but I didn’t want my clients thinking I was somehow tainted by violence, or that they might be at risk from a criminal pursuing me.

“Thee is infamous, dear. Tell me all about it, and what thee has discovered so far.”

Mother supported my sleuthing tendencies. I told her my thoughts on the case and about the various people who might have had an urge to do away with Rowena. I ended with Zula.

“Even a suffragist?” Mother asked. “I hope it wasn’t her.”

“She claims it wasn’t, of course. Just a couple of hours ago she told Bertie and me she’d parted ways with Rowena before they reached Rowena’s home that evening. But I sensed she was lying. A misleading statement doesn’t mean she killed Rowena, of course.”

We passed the ornate four-story Merrimack Opera House. Lights blazed and a round of applause broke out from within, drifting out through the open doors. A police officer strolled up and down in front, wearing the white helmet the police switched to in the winter months.

“It’s a big Republican rally,” I told her. “Gathering votes for Harrison and the other Republican candidates, I suppose. The Democrats held theirs last Thursday.”

“What are the president’s chances here in Amesbury, does thee think?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I have heard more people say they support Harrison than Cleveland. But we won’t truly know until after tomorrow.”

We turned up the path leading to the Bailey house. “I forgot to tell thee about meeting Elizabeth Stanton. She gave us a stirring call to action at the suffrage meeting on Seventh Day. And my friends Bertie and Sophie hosted Elizabeth at a gathering last night, where she spoke movingly about equality and personal responsibility. She remembered meeting thee.”

“What a woman. I look forward to seeing her. I mean, if she hasn’t already gone back to New York.”

“No, she’s staying for the demonstration.”

“Splendid.”

“Mother, I have a concern I want to share with thee.” I paused at the base of the steps.

“Yes, darling?”

“The clerk of the Women’s Business Meeting eldered me yesterday. She made it quite clear I’ll be read out of Meeting when I marry David.”

The lights in the house pushed out a welcoming greeting into the darkness, but they also illuminated the concern in Mother’s eyes.

“I wondered about your prospects for being expelled.” She set her hands on her hips. “I might have to have a word with this clerk, too. It seems to me to be the very opposite of rights for women, of Friends’ clear position on equality between the sexes, for this stupid old-
fashioned custom to be perpetuated. What on earth could possibly be wrong with thee wedding a fine, upstanding man like David, just because he’s not a Quaker?” Her voice rose in indignation. “It’s an outrage. Why, Lawrence Meeting dropped reading members out for that reason years ago.”

I set down her bag and embraced her quickly. “Thee has already made me feel better. Things will work out, as way opens.”

She snorted. “‘As way opens.’ As far as I’m concerned, we need to open it our way, not that of those old biddies.”