A Changing Light by Edith Maxwell (feel good books to read txt) 📕

reclined on the examination chaise with my skirts up, she stretched a measuring tape from my pubic bone to the top of my womb. She checked the measurement then glanced at my face as she told me the number. “This seems closer to five months than four, Rose. Are you sure of your dates?” She clapped her hand over her mouth, then laughed. “Look at me, asking the midwife if she’s sure about the date of her last monthly.”

“Annie, stop that.” I smiled. “I’m in no position to be caring for my own pregnancy. Thee knows that is exactly the right question to ask a pregnant woman, whether it is me or someone else. In any event, it’s possible my cycle was thrown off at the beginning with my body’s new, ah, experiences.” That is, enjoying glorious and frequent intimate acts with my husband. “If thee thinks the size of my uterus seems more appropriate for being five months gone, so be it.” I pulled down my dress and sat up.

She made a note in my file. “You said you hadn’t experienced early nausea. How are you feeling otherwise? Is your appetite healthy?”

“I am well. Better than well, truly. I’m eating heartily, and I feel extra energy, with my hair and fingernails strong and growing faster than usual.” I shook my head. “I know our clients have reported the same, but it’s quite remarkable to experience it in one’s own self.”

“Do you plan to stop riding your bicycle?” She tucked an errant red curl behind her ear.

“I will, as this creature grows.” I gazed down at my belly and ran my hand over it.

“Then I think your pregnancy is proceeding in a healthy manner, Mrs. Dodge.” The skin crinkled around her green eyes.

“And speaking of that. Annie, I would like to offer thee a partnership in my business.”

Her eyebrows lifted nearly into her hairline. “Me?”

“Yes. Thee is fully capable of taking on clients of thine own, and I would like to work as equals with thee. We can work out the details, but does that interest thee?”

“Oh, Rose.” She crossed her hands over her heart. “How far I have come. When I first met you, I couldn’t even read.”

She and Faith had worked at the Hamilton mill together, but both had had higher ambitions, other dreams to pursue.

“If Faith hadn’t taught me my letters,” she continued, “and if you hadn’t taken me on as a student, this never would have happened.” She sniffed and swiped at a tear.

“Well, it has. What does thee say?”

“I say yes. How else would I answer?” She reached out and gave me a quick hug, then sat again.

“It’s about time for me to stop accepting new clients who will be due around the time my own child is due, or at least to let them know thee will be their primary midwife, not I.”

Annie nodded.

“Thee can use my office here, and we can have new stationery and calling cards printed with both our names on them.”

“My memere will never believe it.” She frowned. “I should tell you, though, I have moved out of my family’s rooms. I’m lodging at Mrs. Perkell’s now.”

“Oh? Why is that?” Virginia Perkell, Georgia Clarke’s sister, kept a boardinghouse for young ladies. I myself had resided there until my sister died, then I’d joined my brother-in-law and the children at their home.

“Tuberculosis down in the Flats is running rampant. You know in what close quarters everyone lives.”

The tenements at the Flats were mostly populated by immigrant families. French Canadians like Annie’s, with her parents and siblings and her beloved memere, her mother’s mother, all crammed into two rooms. Polish, Irish, and Italian families and workers lived in similar circumstances.

“I can’t risk getting sick when I’m helping care for mothers-to-be and then their newborn infants,” Annie added. “And Mrs. Perkell has a telephone should you need to summon me.”

“It’s a responsible move, and Virginia is an excellent housekeeper. I doubt thee will encounter illness there. Now, I think we should discuss our schedules.”

“Which ladies are due the soonest?”

“Esther Ayensu on Carpenter Street ought to deliver within the next two weeks, three weeks at the most. It’s her first, and I did the home visit yesterday. All seems to be in order.”

We talked for a few minutes about another four women under our care.

Annie stood. “I’d better go. I have an errand to run for my mother.”

“We’ll speak soon.”

She turned to go, then faced me again with a frown. “Rose, are you again helping the detective with this terrible murder?”

“I’m interested in it. As far as I know, not much information has yet come to light.”

“My older brother Pierrot is a night watchman. He thinks he saw a man near where the body was found.” She crossed herself. “May Mr. Harrington’s soul rest in peace.”

“The murderer, perhaps? That could be very useful information. I don’t know where Justice’s body was discovered.”

“It was in the alley behind the opera house.”

“Was it Pierrot who found the body?”

“Yes. He was quite disturbed by the experience. He didn’t hear the shots, but when he was making his rounds an hour earlier there, he saw a tall fellow hurrying away.”

“Has he told the police?”

“Not about the man. The thing is, Rose, Pierrot knows Faith’s Zeb. And he thinks it might have been him he saw.”

My mouth dropped open. Zebulon Weed? I shook my head, hard. “Zeb never would have murdered someone.”

“I know that.” She twisted her hands together. “You know that. But what if the police don’t? We don’t want to get him in trouble. And Faith would never forgive me.”

I rose and took both her hands. “Thee must tell thy brother he has to go to Detective . . . I mean, Chief Donovan, and tell him what he saw. If it was Zeb, I’m sure he has a completely reasonable explanation. And there are plenty of other tall lanky men in town, especially this week.”

“Maybe.” She didn’t sound convinced. “I suppose that is the right thing to do.”

“Does