The next day, Nettie checked Eli's hand and re-bandaged it, assured that it really was a minor cut without a serious risk of infection. She kissed Eli as he went downstairs to his office. The VanCleves had officially been informed of the engagement at breakfast. They seemed to be moderately pleased, which was better than openly hostile, as she expected her father would be when he found out. Eli was planning to telephone his mother that afternoon.
"I wish I could sew," she grumbled to Diana, who sat by the fire, knitting a baby sweater. "But I can't do anything one-handed."
Diana didn't miss a stitch. "Not to mention that my brother doesn't have a sewing machine. Read and recover, my love. I've asked Gordon to bring back some bridal magazines from your shop. What sort of china do you think you'd like?"
"Who cares? They're dishes. You eat off them. Eli has plenty of those. I'd rather have the sewing machine. Preferably my sewing machine. It's one of the few things he didn't destroy of my mother's." Diana would know who he referred to. "Probably because I still made and repaired his clothes on it."
"Make a list and give it to Eli at lunch," Diana said. "He said he was stopping out there this afternoon to look for an address book. I imagine he wasn't going alone. He'd want someone with him, if only to hold him back in case they run into your father. They can collect the sewing machine and anything else you want."
It was odd getting used to a house full of valuable objects, but Nettie didn't think much of the bric-a-brac meant anything to Eli. She'd had so few things that each of them felt important. "Just that. Everything else I cared about was hidden in that little black suitcase." She'd put out the photograph of her with her mother, but not the other few treasures she'd saved from her father's wrath. "Oh - and the quilt from my bed." She and her mother had made that together. It might not be nice enough to use in a guest room in Eli's house, but maybe she could keep it for herself - or maybe one day for a nursery.
"Have you always made your own clothes?" Diana looked up from her knitting. "I'd have never guessed - they were always so well done."
"Well, when I was very young, my mother made them. She was more talented at needlework than I. But yes, my skirts and blouses are my own creations. It's actually very strange to be wearing store-bought clothes." Today she wore a pink frock with ruffled cap sleeves and a matching pink scarf as a sling. The dresses had proven easier to deal with than skirts and blouses. With the straight, dropped waist that was popular and wide necklines, Nettie was able to dress one-handed. Fortunately, she was thin enough to skip a corset and simply wear short, silky underpants and a slip beneath the expensive dresses.
"Has it changed tremendously since I was here last, or do there seem to be far more fires of late? I swear there's been one nearly every day." Diana frowned down at her needlework. "Will you be able to stand it, do you think?"
"I'll have to, won't I?" Nettie sighed. "He's not going to give it up - or if he did, he'd be miserable. Though of course I'll worry, especially since there do seem to be a lot more fires these last few weeks. Anyway, I had an idea on how to make good use of my sewing skills - and my worry time. I know it isn't often that a family in Carstairs loses a home to fire, but I thought I could make up some quilts for when it does happen, or to wrap around people if they're caught outside. Maybe even some clothing for emergencies, or soft toys for the children." She went on to tell Diana about her idea for a wives' auxiliary.
"That's brilliant." Diana beamed. "I could knit small blankets or mittens perhaps - maybe even spread the idea to Chicago. No wonder Eli loves you."
Nettie flushed, not wanting to get into that conversation with her future sister-in-law. She still had every hope that Eli would eventually love her, in his own way. If not, she had enough love for both of them. "Of course, I can't sew until my arm is healed, but I can talk to some of the other wives and sweethearts. I know most of them already from the shop." Most of the volunteer firemen were more from Nettie's social strata than Eli's, so she felt sure she'd be comfortable with their families - more so than with any of Eli's legal colleagues or the other members of the City Council. She picked back up the magazine she'd been reading, and returned to an article on "Hosting the Perfect Dinner Party," which was infinitely more complicated than she'd ever dreamed. If Diana and Eli hadn't kept assuring her otherwise, she'd be running by now - even though she had nowhere to go.