“You shouldn’t be lying down in the middle of the day anyway. Unless you’re sick?” Alice rested a hand on her forehead.
“Sick of doing chores. Does that count?”
“No, it does not.” Alice took both of Pearl’s hands and pulled her to her feet.
Pearl reluctantly followed her down the stairs. “Can’t you just tell me?”
“No. You have to see it for yourself.”
The girls walked from the house to the barn, with Alice in the lead, nearly giddy with excitement. She spun around, walking backward for a moment to talk. “It’s so beautiful, Pearl. Wait till you see.” Pushing open the barn door, she led Pearl past the empty stalls, the ones that housed their cow and two horses at night, and went straight to the corner of the barn that served as their father’s woodworking shop. They found him kneeling in front of a chest, holding a drill steady with one hand, turning the crank with the other. Little Daisy stood next to him, watching with wide eyes.
Hearing the girls, he set down the drill and grinned. “What do you think, Pearl?”
She circled around and then paused to lean in closer. As far as she could tell, there was nothing extraordinary about this box. “What is it?”
Daisy piped up. “It’s a hope chest for Alice.”
“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Alice said, clasping her hands together. “Father has been working on it on the sly, but I caught him at it today.”
Their father laughed. “Do you know how hard it is to keep a secret in a house full of seven girls? I had a feeling one of you would find out before I finished.”
Alice ran her hand over the top. “It’s made from solid oak and lined with cedar to keep out the moths. Father is going to carve the top with whatever kind of picture I want. I have an idea to show songbirds with a heart in the middle.” She traced a heart with her fingertip.
Their father nodded. “That would be pretty, and just right for you, my little Ally-bird. I’m no artist, but if you draw it on paper, I’ll do the best I can.”
“He’s going to put brass hinges on it and a brass latch.” Alice gave her father a sunny smile.
“A hope chest?” Pearl said, frowning. “But isn’t that for when you get married? I thought you didn’t want to marry Frank.”
“I don’t want to marry Frank, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to marry someone.” Daisy lifted her arms, and Alice scooped her up. “And someday I’ll have a little petunia of my own, and I’ll be glad to have a chest full of fancy linens and blankets and candle holders.” She rested her forehead against Daisy’s, and the little girl patted her cheek.
“But if not Frank, then who?” Pearl wondered. “Who would you marry?” And more importantly, she thought, who would actually want to marry Alice? Plain Alice with her straight brown hair and the freckles that crossed from her cheeks over the bridge of her nose. When she smiled or sang, she could almost pass for pretty, but still, she was nothing out of the ordinary. And she was such a stick-in-the-mud considering she was only a year and a half older than Pearl. Boys liked girls like Pearl, girls who complimented them and laughed at their jokes. Alice was so serious, thinking everything through. She didn’t even try to curry their favor.
In Pearl’s opinion, Frank wasn’t such a bad beau. The son of a prosperous farmer, he kept coming around with gifts and flowers, even though Alice never encouraged him. He wasn’t all that smart, but he sure was sweet on Alice, and that had to count for something.
Their father spoke. “Any man would be lucky to have your sister as a wife. She’s done quite well for this household, hasn’t she?” His wide smile showed his pride.
Pearl supposed he was thinking of her cooking and baking and cleaning. Grudgingly, she had to admit Alice had a talent for household duties. And she had more patience with the younger girls than Pearl ever did. Alice could settle a squabble and treat hurt feelings like she was born to it. She was just the person to go to with a physical injury too. There wasn’t a scrape or cut that didn’t feel better after she’d cleaned it and wrapped it. Her caring hands soothed burns and softened bumps. Those were the kinds of problems that made Pearl want to flee and never return.
Alice said, “And there’s going to be a secret drawer built right into the base where I can store letters and documents.” She met Daisy’s eyes. “Out of reach of little hands. Father said he’ll make it so no one will ever know it’s there.”
Pearl took a step back to get a broader view. “What kind of documents would you have?”
Father said, “Her marriage license, and then later, when the babies come, she’ll have birth certificates . . .”
“Father!” Alice blushed and hurriedly changed the subject. “Tell Pearl what you told me. About the joints that hold it together.” She set Daisy down and ran her fingers over the corner of the chest. She looked up at Pearl. “They’re called dovetail joints. Dovetail. Doesn’t that sound beautiful?”
“I guess.”
Their father said, “The sides of the hope chest are connected using dovetail joints. The edges are cut in a pattern, so one side slides into the other. Wide tails and narrow pins are what they’re called. It works almost like this.” He clasped his hands together, fingers interwoven. “Once the two pieces are glued together, the place where they’re joined is stronger than the wood itself. Your mother always thought it was perfect for a hope chest, because when a couple is married, they are stronger together than they were when separate.” As so often happened when he mentioned their mother, emotion overcame him. “It’s very difficult to break the connected pieces once they’re locked in place. A dovetail joint can stand the test of time.” He paused to look away, then pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to dab at his eyes.
Pearl came behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “We miss her too, you know.”
“I know, darlin’.” He blew his nose, then folded the cloth and stuffed it back in his pocket. “Your mother loved that it was called a dovetail.”
“Because it sounds like love tale,” Alice said, filling in the rest. “And when he’s done with my hope chest, he’s going to make one for you, Pearl.”
“For me?”
“Yes. I’ll do one for each of you girls. Your mother always regretted never having one.” Father turned toward Pearl with a smile. “So you better start thinking about what design you’d like on yours.”
“I will,” she promised, but in the back of her mind, she wondered what in the world she would want with a hope chest. She had many plans for her future, but collecting linens was not among them.
CHAPTER FIVE
1983
When the car jolted to a stop, it sucked Joe out of a disturbing dream. Instinctively he clutched his chest to try to quell the pounding of his heart, but it was no use. Emotionally he was still in the grip of his subconscious, his body drenched with sweat. How had this happened? He must have somehow drifted off, the rhythm of the car’s wheels lulling him into sleep. His mouth automatically formed the words It was only a dream, a phrase suggested by Dr. Jensen, who said his body would eventually believe his mind. It never worked.