Memories of Gold by Ali Olson Page B

was only one person with whom she could imagine discussing this situation. Someone who had told her she could share any problems; someone she trusted. She got up to dress.
    A short while later, she stood in front of Mrs. Swenson‘s door. She took a deep breath and knocked. After a few moments which felt much longer, Angelina, seeming very groggy, opened the door and looked at her in mild surprise. “Mary? I expected to see you tomorrow. It is too early—” And then she looked a little closer at Mary’s drawn, pale face and her determined expression. “Whatever is the matter, dear? Come in.”
    Mary wasted no time, bursting into explanation the moment she was inside. “Angelina, I need advice, and you are the only person I could think to talk to about this. Will you help me?”
    At Angelina’s nod, Mary began. She told Mrs. Swenson about her childhood friend, Jimmy, of his sudden reappearance into her life, of the feelings he evoked from her, and of the events that had transpired the previous day. She blushed a little when she explained the circumstances, but her voice never wavered.
    Then, Mary shared what Jimmy had said and implied about saving her reputation through marriage, and her dilemma. She wanted desperately to keep him, yet she had decided to be honest with him regardless of the consequences. She had to tell him about her profession, but had no idea how to do so.
    After Mary finished, Angelina sat silent for several moments, looking as if she were in deep thought. Mary waited anxiously for the answers to her troubles. Finally, the older woman lifted her gaze and spoke. “Well, it seems to me there’s not much you need from me. You’ve decided to tell him, and I can tell by your eyes that an entire mule team would be unable to stop you, let alone one little old lady. As for how to tell him, I cannot help you much there, either. You simply need to sit down and say what you need to say. The rest is up to him, I’m afraid.”
    Mary sighed. She had hoped Angelina would have some magic words she could use to make the truth easier to tell, something that Mary would be able to say to Jimmy and he would do no more than shrug and smile, and they could continue on together. But there was no magical way out of her predicament.
    Before she left, Angelina grasped Mary’s hand in her own. “Whatever happens,” the older woman said, “You are one of the strongest women I have ever met. You are a survivor.”
    It did nothing to solve her immediate dilemma, but it lightened Maria’s heart a little. She gave her friend a quick hug and left, prepared to tell the truth, come what may.
    Ten minutes later, she was at Jimmy’s boarding house, rapping quickly on his door, forcing herself to stand motionless when all she wanted to do was run. It took every ounce of her resolve to march directly there after leaving Angelina, but Mary knew that she had to face the situation before her heart could talk her out of doing what her mind knew was best.
    Mrs. Jessup opened the door, and Mary looked down, embarrassed about the impropriety of visiting a man at such an early hour, let alone the reason why she was there. She had resolved to speak to Jimmy, though, and she had gone too far to turn back. “Is Jimmy here, ma’am? I’m…an old friend of his.”
    Mrs. Jessup eyed her critically, but evidently did not recognize her as one of Daisy’s girls—or perhaps chose not to give any indication that she had—and showed her to the parlor. Mary stepped into the room, but continued to stand; she was too anxious to sit still while Mrs. Jessup fetched Jimmy, so she paced, one hand twisting itself in the folds of her dress.
    After a few moments, the sound of rushing feet pounding down the stairs told her of Jimmy’s imminent arrival. She held her breath, steeling herself for the task ahead of her.
    As he stumbled through the doorway, slowing from his half-run, he grinned and sighed her name. She smiled back, but it was a sad smile,