Free Belle by Beverly Jenkins Page B

Mrs. Best scanned the clean lines and the stylishly done, lace-edged overdress and asked, “You can make something this beautiful?”
    “Yes, ma’am. We just need to do your measurements, make the pattern and go buy the fabric and thread.”
    Mrs. Best looked over the plate again. “This is a lovely gown.”
    “Yes, it is. Mr. Best will think you’re the prettiest lady at that ball.”
    Mrs. Best looked up with a smile. “Then I’m in your hands, Belle.”
    The two women spent the next hour talking about the dress and taking measurements. Although Belle couldn’t read words, every seamstress had to be able to read numbers and she was no exception. On a piece of paper provided by Mrs. Best, Belle wrote down the measurements and did a rough calculation of how much fabric would be needed. “Now I need some butcher paper so I can make the pattern.”
    Mrs. Best didn’t have any. “How about I have Daniel bring some home next time he goes into town?”
    “That would be fine. When is the ball?”
    Mrs. Best told her the date. It was over a month away.
    Belle did some calculations in her head. “We should have plenty of time, then.”
    “Are you sure?”
    Belle nodded. “Very sure.”
    “Then tomorrow or the next day, I’ll have William take me to Detroit and I’ll pick out the fabric. The Second Baptist Church down there has a Free Produce store.”
    “Then maybe after I finish your dress and you like it and your friends like it, too, I can save up enough money for a stitching machine.”
    “Sounds like a good way to go about it.”
    So that’s what Belle planned to do.
    She and Mrs. Best spent a few more moments talking about the various fabrics and color possibilities for the new gown, then cleaned up the mess of magazines and papers spread out on the floor of the parlor.
    “Belle,” Mrs. Best said as she headed for the kitchen, “Mr. Best and I are driving over to visit some friends in Ann Arbor this evening and we’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. I’ll start dinner later. I want you and Daniel to make certain Jo gets to bed at a reasonable hour.”
    “Yes, ma’am, but if you’ll just tell me what you were going to prepare, I can cook the meal.”
    “No. Although I appreciate all your help around here, you’re not a servant.”
    “But—”
    “No buts. If you want to make yourself useful, go and take that tray in the kitchen out to the men. And tell William I said to show you the room.”
    Belle didn’t think toting a tray a few feet would even begin to repay the Bests what she owed for taking her in, but she’d learned not to argue with Cecilia Best because the lady of the house always got her way. “You really ought to let me do more around here, you know.”
    “Young lady, if I did there’d be no need for me. You’ve helped with the cooking, the cleaning, the sweeping, the polishing. The wash.”
    Belle heard the praise in Mrs. Best’s words and it warmed her insides. “I just wish to pay you back, and this is the only means I have.”
    “Well, William says if you work any harder we’re going to have to pay you a salary, so stop it. At least wait until you get your own house.”
    Belle nodded. She really like Cecilia Best’s wit. “Okay. I’ll go and get the tray, but it isn’t going to stop me from offering to help whenever I can.”
    Mrs. Best shook her head and said wistfully, “Oh, if only I had another son.”
    “What?”
    “Nothing. Nothing. Go take the tray.”
    Belle had no idea what Mrs. Best was talking about, so she went to get the tray. Outside it was a bright and beautiful April day. The gentle breeze ruffled the hem of her old gray gown and blew softly against her brown cheeks. The tray in her hands held two steaming cups of coffee and a couple of man-sized wedges of last night’s pound cake. It was the day’s midmorning snack for the family’s carpenters.
    Belle liked the smells inside the large barn. The mixture of fragrant wood and oils pleasantly filled her