Somewhere to Call Home. Janet Lee Barton

our home is located. We’ll have plenty of time to show you the sights and teach you the best way to get around, once you’re settled,” Mrs. Heaton said.

      Violet wasn’t sure she’d ever learn how to get around and was more than a little relieved when the hack pulled up outside a nice four-story brownstone on the corner of a quiet residential street. A small sign outside read Heaton House.

      “We’re home, dear,” Mrs. Heaton said, patting her hand. “This is my boardinghouse.”

      Michael and the driver took Violet’s baggage to the door, which was quickly opened wide by a young woman near her own age. She was slightly plump and wearing an apron and cap, her blond hair curling out from under it.

      “I was getting worried, ma’am,” she said as Michael and the driver brought Violet’s trunk and bags into the foyer.

      The foyer was wide and long, the floors polished until they gleamed. A long table with a vase of fresh flowers in the center of it and a holder for calling cards stood against one wall. There were several hat racks and coatracks on the opposite wall, and Violet assumed they got a lot of use when all the boarders were there.

      “The traffic was quite heavy today, Gretchen.” Mrs. Heaton took off her hat and put it on the rack. “This is Violet Burton, a dear friend from home and our new boarder. Violet, this is Gretchen Finster. She and her sister, Maida, help me out in the house and the kitchen Monday through Friday, and then on Saturdays and Sundays one goes home and the other stays to help with meals and the boarders’ laundry. I don’t know what I’d do without the two of them.”

      “How do you do, Miss Burton?” Gretchen’s smile was welcoming.

      “I’m fine, thank you.” Now that they were out of the traffic and congestion, she felt much better. “It’s nice to meet you, Gretchen.”

      “Come, let me give you a quick tour of downstairs while Michael and Gretchen take your bags to your room,” Mrs. Heaton said.

      “I’ll see you later at dinner, Violet. I must get back to work for a while,” Michael said.

      “I’m sorry I interrupted your day, I—”

      “I was glad to take some time to come greet you, and we’re glad to have you here.” He kissed his mother on the cheek and smiled at Violet before heading up the stairs with Gretchen following.

      “See you later, dear.”

      “I’ll try to get home early,” Michael said just as he disappeared on the landing.

      Violet forced her thoughts off Michael and back to Mrs. Heaton as the woman turned and pointed to the right of the foyer. “This is the front parlor, Violet. Some, if not all, of the boarders gather here most evenings before and after dinner.”

      The room was quite lovely and large, with a piano in one corner and at least two very comfortable-looking parlor suites covered in a plush burgundy color, along with several rocking chairs upholstered in a gold-and-burgundy stripe, stationed around the room. The draperies were of the same material as the rocking chairs. She would have liked to look closer at the paintings and portraits on the wall, the framed pictures on the tables, but there wasn’t time before Mrs. Heaton led her across the hall to the dining room.

      This room was attractively furnished, as well. There were the same drapes on these windows and a beautifully carved sideboard along the opposite wall. The lace-covered table was huge—it must seat at least twelve people, and Violet wondered if there were that many boarders. Next came the kitchen, and her stomach rumbled at the wonderful aroma coming from the large range. The room was large and sunny with plenty of cupboards and a large worktable in the center.

      “We’re having roast chicken this evening.” Mrs. Heaton took up a pot holder and checked the contents of a large pan in the middle of the oven. There appeared to be at least two big hens in the pan. Mrs. Heaton seemed to determine all was well as she closed the oven door and motioned to Violet to follow her.

      Across the hall from the kitchen was the back parlor. A bit smaller than the front parlor, it seemed cozy and inviting. It was decorated in greens and blues and was quite restful. “This parlor is more for reading or quiet conversation. Several of our boarders bring their callers here to visit with them. Gretchen or Maida are always glad to bring tea or coffee for our guests.”

      The next room, between both parlors, was Mrs. Heaton’s private study. It was paneled with shelves reaching from floor to ceiling, packed full of books. “You’re welcome to come see me here anytime, Violet. And the books are available for all the boarders.”

      Although she’d only gotten a glimpse of each room, the homey feel of the house comforted Violet. “It is quite lovely, Mrs. Heaton.”

      “Thank you, dear. I’ll show you to your room now, as I’m sure you’re longing for a rest after your trip.” She led the way down the hall and it was then Violet noticed a telephone on a table in the curve of the staircase. Mrs. Heaton motioned to it as they passed by. “The telephone is for us all to use. Many times an employer will ring up to ask someone to come in early or change their schedule. And sometimes their families or friends need to contact them.”

      They continued up the staircase to the second floor. “All my lady boarders reside on the top floors. Michael and the gentlemen have rooms on the bottom floor. They may use the outside entry or come up through the kitchen stairs, but they are not allowed past the main floor. Most boardinghouses cater to gentlemen, but there is a great need for rooms to let for women and I wanted to help fill it.”

      She passed several rooms before stopping and opening a door. “I’ve given you a nice bright corner room. I hope you like it.”

      Violet smiled as she entered the room. Mrs. Heaton was right. Sunrays glinted through the windows, splashing the lavender-and-yellow wallpaper and the striped bedcoverings of the same colors. It reminded her of her own room at home, only it was larger.

      This room easily held a nice bedstead and armoire to match, an upholstered chair with matching footstool in one corner, a round table and lamp beside it. A writing table stood in front of one of the windows, and a small sofa set was grouped in front of the fireplace. It seemed to be a combination sitting room and bedroom, and Violet had no doubt she would be quite comfortable in it.

      “Oh, this is a wonderful room, Mrs. Heaton. I’m certain I’m going to feel right at home here.”

      “I hope so, my dear.”

      “How nice of you to remember my favorite colors.”

      “It wasn’t hard. I remembered how pretty your room was in Ashland. The bathroom is just next door, and you’ll be sharing it with another young woman. I’ll introduce you to her at dinner. Gretchen may finish helping you unpack, if you like. Then we’ll leave you to rest awhile. Dinner is at seven but, of course, you may come downstairs anytime before.”

      Violet looked around and found Gretchen was hanging up her nicer gowns. “Thank you for what you’ve already done, Gretchen. I think I’ll wait to unpack the rest. I must admit I am a bit tired.”

      Mrs. Heaton motioned to Gretchen, who immediately left the room. “I understand, dear. You try to rest. We only dress up for meals on the weekends—Saturday evenings, Sundays and holidays. All of the boarders work, and they are much too tired at the end of the day to follow society’s rules for dress during the week. A nice skirt and shirtwaist will suffice. If you aren’t down by dinnertime, I’ll send Gretchen up to fetch you.”

      “Thank you.”

      “You are quite welcome, Violet.” Mrs. Heaton moved out into the hall and quietly shut the door behind her.

      After all the noise and confusion, the sights, sounds and smells of the depot and then the ride to Mrs. Heaton’s, Violet felt she needed some quiet time to take everything in. And she was more than a little nervous about meeting the other boarders. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to get her bearings first.

      For now, she was glad just to be