The Hope Chest

“Isn’t it nice that Mildred finally has a boyfriend?” Ernestine Bennion settled back in the overstuffed chair and smoothed out a doily on the arm.

“Oh does it look serious?” Mrs. Pearson held her thumb in the place in the magazine.

“Yes, I think so. They go home together every night after the library closes. He has that little red car.”

“Well, you never can tell; I always liked Milly.”

“Oh yes, so did I. She was such a beautiful baby. I was here when she was born—helped decide what to name her. It was between Mildred for Elsie’s mother or Millicent for Frank’s sister—you know, the one who marred the…”

Elsie Brown came through the kitchen door wiping her hands on her apron. “Well now. I’m sorry I kept you waiting, but I was just putting in the pot roast. Let it go so late now I was afraid it wouldn’t get done for supper and I’ve still got to get over to Penny’s.” She stuck a strand of hair under the bobby pin behind her ear and sat down at the end of the sofa with her knees slightly apart and her hands resting in her apron.

“Why that’s all right,” said Ernestine. “We understand. I came off and left my lunch dishes in the sink. Well how is everyone?”

“Oh just fine.” Elsie raised her hand and smoothed down the back of her hair. She shifted a little on the sofa. “How’s your families?”

“Oh just fine. We see a lot of Mildred and a certain young man lately,” she smiled and adjusted her rhinestone decorated glasses.

Elsie colored and the brown flecks on her throat stood out. “Oh yes, Fred. He seems like a nice boy. Works at the plant over at Bolling—has a real steady job. He seems to be real…” she paused.

“Well it’s sure nice for Mildred. Well I think it’s Mrs. Pearson’s turn to give the message. It’s on ‘The Honest in Heart.’”

The other woman folded back the right page, moved the magazine away from her, and turned her head slightly. “The man who can face himself…” she began, and read the page. “Oh it’s such a nice lesson this month,” she finished.

Ernestine nodded, “Yes, and it’s so true.”

Elsie nodded and reached a handkerchief out of her dress front. “Yes, there’s always so much to do and none of us has it perfect.”

“You wonder if the time will ever come.” Ernestine said.

“And that part about living with yourself,” said Mrs. Pearson. “If you don’t do what you can, you just don’t feel right.”

“Yes,” said Elsie, “And there’s so much. I’ve been cleaning till I think I’ll never get done.”

“Yes, you are busy.” Ernestine leaned forward sympathetically. “Especially if you are getting ready for a wedding.”

Elsie blushed again. “Well yes. We hope so.” Then she half chuckled and shifted in her seat, touching her hair and sticking it behind the pins.

Ernestine arose and Mrs. Pearson followed. “Well, we have to go. Enjoyed visiting you Elsie. We wish the best for Mildred.”

“Don’t forget about the Bazaar,” said Mrs. Pearson.

“Oh, I won’t,” said Elsie. “I’m hemming some flour sacks—don’t know if I’ll ever get done—“

“Well—“ sympathetically.

“Yes, well, one of these days.”

“Well, bye-bye Elsie, see you at Church tomorrow.”

“Bye and thanks again.”

“Bye.”

Elsie Brown came out of Penney’s and scuffed up the street toward her house. She shut the screen behind her and put her packages down on the sofa. Milly came out of her room, ready to go to work.

“I’ve got something for you,” Elsie said gesturing toward a large package tied with strings. “Having a sale at Penny’s.”

Milly pulled off the paper. “Dish towels?” There was a pile of dish towels printed with blue figures of kittens and the days of the week.

“Sheets too!” her mother said.

“What for?” Milly asked, then wished she hadn’t.

“Time you had your own,” her mother said from the kitchen. “Embroidery thread’s in the little sack.”

“Thank you.” Milly said.

“I’ll clean out my cedar chest for you,” her mother added. Milly picked up the pile and carried it into her room.

“Will Fred be coming to dinner again Sunday?” Elsie called. Milly paused and answered, “I guess so. I’ll ask him.” She thought of herself in her own kitchen with her own china in the Blue Mist pattern and her own embroidered dish towels. She’d rinse the plates in hot water and wipe every piece and set them in the cupboards, lined with new shelf paper. Her own house!

During the morning hours in the library, the sun streamed down from the long, high windows, catching the specks in the air, and turning them into gold dust. The few voices were muffled and there were long lulls when no one came in. Milly could read whole chapters without being interrupted, or she could spend the hours strolling among the tall quiet stacks replacing the familiar volumes on their shelves.

Often in the morning young mothers came in with their little children to find picture books. Once in a while DeLue Freeman came in with her two little boys. The oldest one had dark curly hair and big dark eyes just like his father. He had been president of her graduating class, and had asked her to be on the clean-up committee for the Senior Ball. She sat in the corner all evening except once when he danced with her. She had stumbled and stepped on his foot, but he had laughed and said it was alright because he had another one. She could feel herself turn red all over and her hands were wet. Then he’d started to sing that song along with the band. “Once I Had a Secret Love.” She knew better, but she couldn’t help it. She closed her eyes and permitted herself to dream for a minute, only a minute. Then it was over and she was sitting alone again in the pink taffeta dress that her mother had made. She knew that he danced once with everyone on the committee. What a thought anyway! She’d wished she could go home, but she had to stay and wash the punch cups. Right after graduation he had married slender DeLue. She saw him downtown now and then. He always had a joke or a friendly word, but she knew he did it just to be nice.

The morning hours were best, but the other girls had so many things to do evenings that she usually traded, and took the night shift when the school kids swarmed in and gathered in bunches around the tables. They talked in loud whispers, with constant muffled giggling. Then there was no time for anything except stamping books and helping with the card catalogue. She liked to help, but the pretty girls embarrassed her; she was always aware of how heavy her hands were as she fingered through the cards. One time when she refused to let a boy check out a reference book he had called her “fatso.” She had stayed in the back room till closing time. She knew it was silly.

It was while she was working the evening shift that she met Fred Blum. He worked at the plant in Bolling and he was new in town. He came into the library almost every night and read magazines. He usually checked out a mystery or a Post and he always smiled and said goodnight to Milly. He made a sound with his lips just before he spoke, as though he were deciding something. She had to smile at him; he was so awkward.

One night he fumbled with his books and said, very fast. “My name’s Fred Blum.” His white neck and face suddenly turned red.

Milly was embarrassed. “I’m Mildred Brown,” she had said. But she wished she hadn’t; maybe she shouldn’t have.

After that he always stopped to talk a minute, hanging on while she stamped other people’s books. One night he offered her a ride home.

She didn’t know what to say. “It’s only a block.”

He made the little sound. “I’ll wait for you.” And after that he always waited and took her home.

Tonight the library closed early and she and Fred went to a dance at the church. Everyone seemed younger, and the music was hard to dance to. Fred danced with a funny bounce and she could feel herself jiggle.

One young couple danced very close together. They will have a nice wedding, she thought. Mildred loved a wedding dance with flowers. It was nice just to stand and watch, but if it were your own—and all those flowers, and maybe rent a little house with a front lawn and a garden in the back, have the folks over on Sunday, and she’d take her own little boy to the library and read to him at night. She thought of the wedding dress in Sutton’s window downtown. There were white lace daisies scattered over the veil and around the neck and sleeves. There was a little sign lettered in gold. “Let us help you plan your happy day.”

She wondered how much the dress would cost, then she remembered that her mother had some white satin put away in the bottom of the chest. Fred’s cheek touched against her face just as the music ended, and she started.

Milly’s father was on the porch when they drove up, but he got up and went inside when he saw them.

Fred sat smiling at her in the dark. It was a way of his that bothered her. “It was a nice dance,” she remarked, looking at her hands in the street light.

“Yeh–,” he answered.

“I thought the decorations were really pretty.”

“Yeh—,” he grinned. “I liked them too.”

He reached out and took her hand, but only for a second. It hadn’t seemed right, and he began to talk to cover it up.

“Sure was a good dance.”

“Yes it was,” Milly agreed. “The program was cute.”

“Yeh.”

“Which part did you like best?” She asked.

He shrugged. “I liked it all.”

It was silent for a moment. “Did you see how those two were dancing,” he laughed embarrassedly. “So”—he giggled weakly and reached out for her hand again. She jerked it out of his way, then picked a piece of white lint off her sleeve. She saw Fred’s smile falter and she regretted hurting him. “Thank you for taking me,” she said.

“Sure,” he turned back and smiled at her and put his hand forward again.

She wished he wouldn’t smile like that, but she let him hold her hand.

He was happy again, but she wished she could think of something to say. Finally she remarked that it was late and Fred sighed, and opened the door and got out.

The porch was pleasant. Mildred noticed that the moon high above the town was full and bright. It was a warm night and the crickets were singing in the yard.

Fred smiled and scuffled his foot back and forth. He made his funny sound with his mouth. “Nice night,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Milly!” he blurted her name suddenly. His hand fumbled on her arm for a second and she felt the dampness of his palm. He darted forward and pushed his lips against one side of her mouth, then stepped back, breathing hard. Small drops of sweat appeared on his forehead. “Good night, Darling,” he said. Then he stumbled down the steps.

“Goodnight Fred.” She didn’t laugh. Mildred hurried to her room and looked in the mirror. She straightened her glasses and examined her mouth. It was the same as always. Her hair was still neat in its tight little curls. She took a clean handkerchief out of her drawer and wiped off her lipstick.

Her father had moved her mother’s cedar chest into her room and the little pile of linen was still on her bed. She smoothed over the picture of the kitten washing dishes. She looked in the little sack, found a skein of pink thread and tried it against the pattern. Then she looked at the other towels and the rest. There was a set of pillow cases and a pair of double sheets in plastic bags. She smoothed her hand over the sheets and thought of making her own bed with clean new sheets. She unfolded the pillow cases. They, too, were stamped with patterns. “His” and “Hers” in cross stitch. She folded them quickly, wrapped them in the brown paper, and put the package in the bottom of the chest, on top of the white satin.

Someone was knocking at her door. Milly turned over sleepily, “come in.” Elsie came in and sat down on the edge of her bed.

“It’s time to get up,” she said. “You and Fred were out pretty late last night.” She waited.

Milly opened her eyes. “Mmn!”

“Did you and Fred have a good time?” her mother waited again.

“Yes. It looks like a sunny day.”

Her mother nodded. “What did you do?”

Milly pushed herself up in bed. “We went to the dance.”

“That’s nice. I’ve got roast for dinner. Do you think Fred will like it?”

“Yes.”

“Fred’s sure a nice fellow. Dad and I like him a lot.”

Milly nodded and sat around in bed.

“Course he’s not so handsome, but that doesn’t count much. What counts is a good steady man who’ll take care of you and be good to you. Fred’s real nice and steady. You can’t expect a knight in shining armour.

Milly looked into the mirror. “I know.”

“Think of Aunt Millicent. Ralph was as handsome as the devil but he ran off first chance he got. All men have faults.”

“Yes.” Milly fumbled with the trinkets on her dresser. She felt like screaming, “Yes, yes, it’s all right. Don’t say any more.”

“Well,” said Elsie, “I know you understand about Fred. You’re—“ she paused.

“Two of a kind,” Milly thought.

“—an understanding girl.” Elsie finished. “Did you see Dad moved the cedar chest in here?”

“Yes. Thank you. I put the towels in.”

“I could get started on the embroidery if you want.”

“Oh, all right.”

Elsie stood up. “Well you better hurry and get dressed. It’s only a half hour till Sunday School.”

“Is breakfast ready?” Milly asked.

“No, it’s Fast Sunday. You’ve been going around in a daze lately,” she chuckled. It’s the first Sunday in June.”

“Oh.”

Elsie chuckled as she left the room. Milly went to her closet and stood there trying to decide what to wear. She heard the doorbell ring and then her mother giggling with Fred.

“That was sure a fine dinner, Mrs. Brown.” Fred wiped his mouth and set his napkin down.

Elsie beamed and got up to bring in the pies. She cut out a piece of apple for her husband. “What d’you want Milly?”

“None, thank you,” Milly said. “I’m full.”

“Well I’ll just have to have some coconut cream with Fred,” her mother giggled.

After the pie Milly got up to clear the dishes.

“No, I’ll help—“ her father said. “You and Fred go on into the living room. Me and Mother will do up the dishes.”

“Yes,” said Elsie. “You two go on into the front room.”

Milly walked into the living room and Fred followed. She sat on the end of the couch and opened the funnies.

Fred sat down and looked over her shoulder.

“Milly, that was a swell dinner.”

“Thanks, Fred. We’re glad you came.”

“I surely had a wonderful time last night.”

“Yes—me too,” she said. “It was a nice dance.”

She noticed that Fred was breathing very fast. She wanted to get up but she couldn’t think of a reason.

“Milly, there’s something—“

“Did you read this one—,“ she pointed at a cartoon and laughed.

“Yes.” He licked his lips and made his little sound. “Mildred, I need to tell you something. I wanted to last night.”

“Oh.” She wished someone would come in.

“Well—Milly,” he put his arm around her shoulders. “I love you,” his words were thick as if his mouth were dry.

“You do, Fred?” She felt a lump grow in her stomach.

“Oh, Milly. Ever since you were so nice to me in the library—I never knew any girl as nice as you.”

“Thank you, Fred,” she caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Well—If you knew—I mean I need—Well” he cleared his throat and made his little sound. “I have a real good job. I get a raise every six months.”

She sat back into the corner and turned around to face him.

He dropped his arm. He was breathing very hard as though he were struggling.

“Well—we could rent a house in Bolling, by the plant, and have your folks over, if you want—“

“Well—,“ she looked at the kitchen door. “but—well, it’s just that I have to think about it.”

“Oh. Well, sure Milly.”

“I don’t know quite what—“

“Sure, sure. I know how you feel. It’s okay.” He added.

Her father coughed very loudly before he opened the swinging door.

He came in, sat down, snapped open the paper and squinted at it. “I see they might strike over at your plant.”

Fred moved away and sat straight.

“Not my group. The janitors, maintenance is what might strike. I’m on assembly line.”

“Mm. I don’t hold with strikes much. Puts a fellow out of work, how’s he going to feed his family?”

Fred nodded, wiping his hands together. “My group won’t strike.”

“You get pretty good wages?”

“A raise every six months.”

“Say, that’s something.”

Milly’s mother came in and settled in a chair. She took up a dishtowel and began to embroider. “Did Milly show you the cute dish towels she got?” she asked Fred.

“A, no.”

“It’s nothing,” said Milly. “Fred was just telling us about the strike at the plant.”

“They’re real cute,” Elsie held up the towel. It was the Sunday one. “They’re for her hope chest.”

“Mother.”

“I gave her mine that her father gave me when we were engaged.”

“That’s real nice,” Fred’s face was red and Milly tried to think of something to say. She put her hand to her forehead.

“Aren’t you feeling okay?” her father asked.

She shook her head. “I have a sort of headache.”

Fred went soon after that. “It’s okay. I understand,” he shrugged. “I hope you get feeling better. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He tried to smile then went out to his car and drove away.

“You’d better call and say you can’t come to work tomorrow,” Elsie said. “It looks like you might be coming down with something.”

Milly shook her head. “No, I’ll be okay.” She fumbled with the knob of her door.

“Your Fred’s a fine fellow—“ her father said. “Got a good steady job, too.”

“Yes.” Milly answered and went into her room.

The next morning the weather was warm and muggy. Mildred felt tired and heavy, but she was anxious to get out of the house.

The library was empty for a long time and she sat with her head on the desk. Mrs. Wells came in to hand her the over-due slips and asked if she were all right. Milly nodded.

After the stores opened at ten, people began to drift in. “Do you have something on growing roses?” Milly looked up. It was Ernestine Bennion. “Oh, hello! Yes, probably. Look in the card catalogue under R or under gardening.”

“Oh, surely. I didn’t think of that,” she patted Milly’s arm. “Milly, my dear, I’m so happy for you. Have you set the date yet?”

“How did you know?”

“Oh, I’ve seen it coming,” Ernestine smiled at her successful guess.

Milly put her hand to her head. “No—I didn’t—“

“Oh, I see. Nothing definite yet. Well, let us know, be sure now. If your mother needs any help—“ she patted her arm again. “He seems like a fine young man,” she winked.

Milly nodded.

The day wore on and after lunch Milly felt tired again. Mrs. Wells touched her arm. “Are you sure you feel all right?”

“Yes, I’m okay.
“Did you and Fred have a fight or something?”

“No. Only–,” Milly rested her head on her hand. “I think he wants to marry me.”

“That’s wonderful. I’m not surprised.”

“No. No one is.”

“Naturally everyone was hoping.”

“I know, and everyone is so happy for me.”

“Fred’s a nice man Milly,” Mrs. Wells said quietly.

“I know, everyone says so.”

“Well, he really is. Besides you need each other. –Before I forget, I came in to tell you the first grade is coming in,” she nodded toward the entrance. The doors opened and the children from the elementary school began to stream in.

Milly daubed at her eyes.

Mrs. Wells spoke briefly to the children and then let them wander among the children’s stories.

A little girl came up to Milly holding out a book. “What is it about?” the child asked.

“It’s about a boy who has lots and lots of hats—“

“I want the one about the boy who puts the butter in his pocket and steps on the pies. Can you find it for me?”

Milly took the child’s hand. “Yes, it’s right over here. It’s a funny one isn’t it?”

“No. It’s very sad,” the child looked up at her. “Everyone laughs at him.”

It was two-thirty when the class left. In a half hour the high school crowd would start. Milly went into the office and picked up her purse.

“Would you mind if I left?” she asked.

“No. I can manage.” Mrs. Wells said.

“Thank you. I’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Okay. What shall I tell Fred?”

“I don’t know.” Milly paused for a long time. “Do you really think he needs me? I mean—you said—“

“Yes, I think he does. What about you?”

Milly looked down. After a moment she answered, “I’ll call him after a while. Bye.”

Milly took off her glasses and squinted to focus her eyes. She was too embarrassed to cry, but she wanted to.

Once outside she felt free of it all. She turned toward town and stood in front of the wedding dress display. What ever I do she thought—I can do it myself. Not for Mother or Dad. She opened her purse to see if she had her check book and went into the shop.