Somewhere to Call Home. Janet Lee Barton

conductor collected their tickets and, as the train took off, Violet couldn’t keep an excited giggle from escaping as she looked down on the street below.

      “It is quite something, isn’t it?” Michael asked. “Seeing your reaction reminds us of our own just a few years ago. Mother and I were just as amazed as you are.”

      His words made Violet feel better, but she didn’t have time to say so, as he leaned across her and pointed. “Look, there’s City Hall on your left.”

      The train stopped just then for some of the passengers to get out and others to get on, and Violet got a good look at where the city government was conducted. Then the train was on its way again. They made a sudden turn and Violet slid closer to Michael. His nearness and the scent of his cologne were hard to ignore as she tried to right herself. Trying to compose herself, she pointed to the tallest building she’d ever seen. “What is that?”

      “That is the Tower Building over on Broadway. It’s thirteen stories high and is one of the tallest buildings in the city at present.”

      Violet was certain she wouldn’t want to be on the top floor looking down. She shuddered at the mere thought of it.

      “We’re on Sixth Avenue now and we’ll get off at the next stop,” Michael explained. “Butterick isn’t far from here.”

      “If we have time, I’d love for Violet to at least get a glimpse of the Ladies’ Mile,” his mother suggested.

      “The Ladies’ Mile? What is that?” Violet asked as the train came to a stop once more and Michael and his mother both stood. Violet scooted out of her seat, shook her skirts and stood beside Mrs. Heaton in the aisle.

      “Oh, my dear, the Ladies’ Mile is blocks and blocks of the most wonderful shops and department stores. Some weekends the girls and I come down just to window-shop. Even if one doesn’t buy anything, it’s the place to go to know what is in style. Besides, several of the shops that need help are there, so it will be helpful if you know where they’re located,” Mrs. Heaton said.

      Violet followed them out of the train and down to ground level again. Michael hired a hack and off they went once more.

      “Aren’t we going to show her Central Park, Michael? We’ve come this far.”

      “Perhaps we can go there tomorrow after Sunday dinner?”

      “That is a wonderful idea. She can’t see New York City all in a day, that is for certain.”

      As the Heatons talked over her, Violet began to believe she could live here the rest of her life and never see it all. Back on street level, in the traffic of a Saturday morning, Violet once again found herself closing her eyes from time to time as one or another vehicle seemed bound to run into them.

      Michael was right. It wasn’t far to Butterick on Broadway. Violet looked up at the building with the signs that said E. Butterick and Company. Ornate molding framed the windows and doors. The building was very nice, and Violet didn’t think she would mind working there, but in her present circumstance she’d be glad to find any respectable position.

      Michael pointed out all the El stops, but Violet had a feeling it would take a while before she knew exactly which one to take. He promised to draw her a map to keep with her, to make it easier for her to remember.

      Mrs. Heaton pointed out Brooks Brothers, Tiffany’s Jewelry and Lord & Taylor along with other stores on Broadway. Michael had the driver turn up and down several different blocks and, new as she was to the city, even Violet could tell when they got close to the Ladies’ Mile.

      Traffic slowed and became more congested. Carriages of all kinds, landaus, rockaways and phaetons moved slowly, giving them a glimpse of the ladies inside. That these women belonged to society was evident by the gowns they wore and the fact that many had liveried men driving them.

      But there were others—everyday women dressed much like Violet and Mrs. Heaton—who were there, too. They were lined up, looking in the shop windows of Macy’s, Le Boutellier Brothers, Hearns Department Store and Orbach’s on Fourteenth Street. Violet remembered that Macy’s and Hearns both had ads in the classifieds. She’d apply at them on Monday as well as Butterick.

      Part of Violet wanted to be looking in the windows along with all of those other women, and the other part of her could not have been more relieved when Michael told the driver to take them back to the boardinghouse.

      If anything, traffic was even more frenzied than earlier in the day, and Violet closed her eyes at more than one intersection. When Michael chuckled, she opened them to find him looking at her with a smile on his face.

      “I’m sorry, Violet, it is just so entertaining to watch you try not to watch the traffic.”

      “I can’t seem to help it. I fear a calamity is bound to happen at any moment, and I don’t want to see it or be part of it.”

      “Oh, accidents do happen, and frequently. But most times they aren’t all that serious.” He grinned at her. “However, it might be best if you try not to shut your eyes, or pray that our driver doesn’t shut his, as well.”

      Violet laughed with him. “Yes, I can see how that might help. I’ll try, but I can’t promise.”

      Just then, an omnibus careened around a corner and seemed to be heading straight for them. Violet scrunched her eyes shut tight and screamed.

      * * *

      After a much-needed nap, Violet woke refreshed and looking forward to dinner, in spite of feeling horrible about screaming in Mrs. Heaton’s ear. When that omnibus had come straight toward their hack, she’d been certain it was going to topple them over. Thankfully, the Lord had been with them and, just in the nick of time, their driver had avoided the calamity.

      The Heatons had assured her, over and over again, that they understood, and told her that if not for her scream, their driver might not have acted so quickly. Still, she felt a bit silly and embarrassed about it all. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a topic of conversation at dinner.

      She chose a gown of purple moiré that was several years old, but still in style. At least it had been back home. She only hoped it wasn’t terribly outdated here in New York City.

      After dressing her hair into a psyche knot, Violet turned this way and that in front of the standing mirror in the corner. The dress had an ivory lace inset in the bodice and a high collar and waistband of a darker shade of purple. It showed little wear, and, well, it would have to do. Even if she chose another gown, it would not be new.

      After Mama had her stroke there’d been no money for new clothes, not even homemade ones, and Violet had no interest in them anyway. All she’d wanted was for her mother to get well. But that wasn’t to be and, oh, how she missed her. Grief, sudden and sharp, threatened to engulf Violet, until she remembered the promise she’d made to her mother just before she had passed away.

      Mama had been so alert for just those few moments as she’d grasped her hand and said, “Violet, now don’t you give yourself over to grief once I’m gone. You’ve been a blessing to me and I don’t know what I would have done without you. I want you to get on with your life. The Lord has great plans for you. I know you’ll miss me, but I pray your days will be full of life and joy and living according to the Lord’s will. When you start to give in to the grief, think of me in Heaven. Promise me, Violet, for I’m ready to go.”

      “I promise, Mama,” Violet had said. Her mother had squeezed her hand, closed her eyes and slipped away. Remembering how peaceful her mother had looked, Violet let one last sob escape before she wiped at her tears. They wouldn’t bring her mother back, and Violet wouldn’t have wanted her to suffer just to stay here for her sake.

      She let out a huge sigh and nodded to herself. Enough of this—it wasn’t what Mama would want. She would honor her mother’s wishes and her promise to her. But, oh, how she wished she’d been with her today to see all the sights and hubbub of this city. It comforted her to think that maybe she saw it all from Heaven.

      Hearing