"Where are the snows of yesterday" - Villon
"I suppose I shall go with her. I could not imagine being separated by half a continent. I do not have a lot of friends," Miriam replied.
He nodded sympathetically. Those young folk like the Wigfall twins or Miss Orr, who had lived here all their lives, had naturally built up friendships with their peers as children; the more outgoing newcomers like Miss Mudd or Mrs Pike went out and made new friends. The more retiring types like Miss Kaufman, though they came into contact with many people throughout their working day, found it more difficult to form lasting friendships.
"You know, Miriam, after I left New Orleans and moved to New York I found it very difficult to rebuild my business, but by hook or by crook and with a lot of hard work I managed it: then I had to throw that all up, at rather an advanced age, to follow my partner and start all over again out here." He was talking, no doubt, of the late Mr Packham whose name still adorned the sign outside the Drapers: Pettigrew & Peckham Corsets & Ladies' Wear.
"It was tough, Good Lord it was tough: but it was worth it, just to be beside... beside a partner of intimate fellow feeling." he nodded a little sadly perhaps, but with no regrets.
"But I do enjoy working for you, sir. So I would not leave unless it was to follow Arabella. I promise."
He nodded.
"But follow her you must." he smiled at her genially "It is a rare and great thing to find someone, especially at your young age, who fits the other half of our puzzle, Miriam... we who are cursed, or blessed, with a difference."
They were nearly at Miriam's house, and he had one more thing to add.
"Now be sure to give me fair warning when you do decide to go... there are letters of introduction I can write for you to useful people in New York in the drapery and millinery business; you will no doubt need to be the main bread winner at first... the stage is an unsteady business, but ladies will always need gowns, my dear!" He was all business now, and the night hid the small tear in his eye.
Mr. Pettigrew seemed to understand her inclination to follow Arabella if she should go east, perhaps that was when she went east for eventually it would be a certainty. Ara talked about all the time. It seemed New York City was the theatre center of the nation. So NYC it would be. At least she herself was somewhat familiar with at least part of that teeming metropolis having lived their thru her childhood.
He then told her about himself, a little about his past in New Orleans and how he started all over again in New York at that and never regretted it. Miriam always thought he was a fine businessman, this only reinforced it. He had had a fine partner too. Miriam was quite certain the other man had not just been that kind of partner either.
She promised him though she had no plans to leave Kalispell unless it was to follow Arabella, she meant every word.
"Now be sure to give me fair warning when you do decide to go... there are letters of introduction I can write for you to useful people in New York in the drapery and millinery business; you will no doubt need to be the main bread winner at first... the stage is an unsteady business, but ladies will always need gowns, my dear!"
"Thank you, sir, that would be most kind of you. I would think such endorsements would be a big help for me. All I know of this business I learned from you and I am very grateful," she complimented him.
Then suddenly Miriam leaned into the fellow and gave him a feathered kiss on one cheek, "You are such a good man, Mr. Pettigrew."
"Where are the snows of yesterday" - Villon
Mr Pettigrew did not flinch from his employee's peck on his cheek; he had received many such chaste kisses from grateful lady customers: thankfully he had never, even when young and handsome in the antebellum South, been mistakenly kissed by a woman in a non-chaste manner!
A light cracked from a door, Miriam's door.
"Meeeriam! For why are you there in the dark? Loitering like a shikse yet! With some goyim mentsh you are getting fresh?!" her mothers voice enquired, making out two shapes in the gloom.
Mr Pettigrew chuckled indulgently.
"You had better go and inform your Mother of the identity of your goyim mentch, I shall see you at the store tomorrow." he smiled "And don't worry about Miss Mudd, I shall call in on her on my way home and ensure that she is calmed." he assured her.
[OOC: This thread is more or less done, methinks]