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By Root 773 0

Sunday, was organized by the Danes. Olea suggested it was a good time, moving to Coulee City, to try out something new. As one could “never be certain about the Danes,” we became Presbyterians. We took on boarders and attended meetings about the possible reclamation dam, and I waited for Olaf to contact me so we could look for that farm together. I’d been reconsidering grain, thinking a chicken farm instead so I’d have protein when I started my own fur-ranching, but I didn’t know if Olaf would approve. I wanted to speak to him in person. Besides, I had plenty to keep me busy, just looking after the big house, continuing to be the bookkeeper for the women, and readying myself for the next season of trapping.

The women became more like sisters to me than partners in real estate or the fur business. I cared about them, but it wasn’t in my nature to speak of inner thoughts with others; I’d had enough of rejection from people I loved. I’d put my risk in business, where the consequences of failure, I thought, wouldn’t hurt as much.

We women moved into a routine that included a monthly shopping trip to Spokane, a trip we made by train, though I still threatened to buy an auto one day. On the April morning in 1903 that found us there, Olea followed up on her legal affairs while I stopped by the local furrier to see about having our furs cleaned and stored for the summer. Afterward I met Louise at Crescent’s department store, where she toyed with bolts of material to find the perfect lavender for her bedroom curtains. I fussed over the Godey’s Lady’s Book the store kept in the ladies’ lounge. I shouldn’t have looked at that; I compared myself to the women with beautiful hair.

When Louise finally finished, we stepped from Crescent’s at the same time as a couple entered, and we bumped into each other.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, grabbing at my hat. I gasped.

It was my stepfather and Ida.

I caught my breath. “Ida. How—”

Ida’s eyes grew large. She looked away.

My stepfather walked quickly down the steps, motioning for my sister, who then trailed along behind him. But she turned, hesitated for a moment. Did she nod?

“Who was that?” Louise said as the two hurried away.

“My stepfather and my sister,” I said.

“They should have stopped and talked,” Louise said.

“Did it look like Ida recognized me? Did you see her nod?”

“If she didn’t, it’s only because you’ve changed your hair with those extensions. You look quite sophisticated, Clara. I bet they didn’t see it was really you.”

I watched my family cross the street, then turn the corner without a backward glance.

I stood motionless, a fly caught in a spider web.

Then, “Let’s get you a new dress, Louise,” I said, taking her elbow and moving back inside Crescent’s. “My treat. We’ll pick out a purse for Olea too. Maybe shoes. A nice surprise for her when she comes back from the lawyer.”

“But we finished. I thought you were … bored.”

“Bored? No. Not ever. Only uncreative people are bored. Let’s see if they have this style I saw in the magazine. It’ll look good on you.”

“A store-bought dress? They’re so expensive, Clara.”

“You deserve it,” I said.

Inside I caught the attention of the clerk and showed her the dress I had in mind. They had one in a pink as sweet as sunrise. It needed altering and it was expensive, but that was fine, I could do that for Louise. I picked out a leather purse with brass trim for Olea. A pair of shoes to go with it fit right into the shopping bag. Money could buy things for people, nice things. There was nothing wrong with spending money on friends.

“She’ll love that,” Louise said. “Won’t you get a new frock for yourself?”

I shook my head. “Let’s go back to the fabrics, Louise. Get a few more yards of material you’d really, really like.”

I let Louise’s chatter about fabric deaden the memory of the moments before. Except for Ida’s faltering recognition, I might have been the striped pole outside the barbershop instead of an Estby relative. I wished I were that pole; I wouldn’t have felt the piercing pain.

More determined than ever to move my plan