The Bride Next Door. Winnie Griggs
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“That’s the way type is set for printing.” He saw her puzzled look and explained further. “Think of it as looking at a reflection. The type is the mirror image of what the printed page will be.”
Her expression cleared. “Imagine that. So you have to set all those letters into backward words so the print comes out frontward on the paper.”
“Not the most eloquent way of explaining it, but yes.”
She shook her head. “That sounds like it would be difficult to keep straight in your head. I know it would make me go all cross-eyed.”
She did have a colorful way of speaking. “It is a tedious job. I will admit, even after several months at it, I find myself having to focus totally on what I’m doing or I’ll get it wrong.” It had given him a whole new appreciation for professional typesetters. He just hoped he didn’t have to be one much longer.
But enough of this chitchat—he had work to do. “Here are your wages,” he said, handing them over.
She accepted them with a thank-you, but didn’t head for the door as he’d expected.
“Was there anything else?”
“I was wondering if you knew about the door in the wall behind your cupboard?”
What was she talking about? “A door? Are you certain?”
That got her back up. “I know a door when I see one.”
Everett moved toward the stairs. “Show me.”
She marched up ahead of him, then wordlessly waved him toward the far wall.
Everett drew closer to the cupboard, studying the wall behind it. Sure enough, there was the obvious outline of a door. How had he missed spotting it in all the time he’d lived here?
“I take it from your reaction you hadn’t noticed it before.” Daisy was right at his shoulder. “What do you suppose is in there?”
He glanced at her, and she had the grace to blush.
But Everett was curious now, too. “Let me just shift this over so we can find out.”
Everett put his shoulder to the cupboard, waving off her offer of assistance. That done, he grabbed the doorknob and twisted. It was locked. “This cupboard was here when I moved in. I wonder...” He felt along the top of the cupboard, and sure enough, he found a key.
Daisy’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Must be something mighty important in there to keep it locked up.”
Was she expecting a treasure of some sort? It was more likely to be nothing but a shallow closet. He quickly unlocked and opened the door, but instead of finding the storage space he’d expected, he faced the backside of another door.
“How strange,” Daisy said, her disappointment evident. “It’s not even deep enough to store a sack of flour. Maybe it’s where they kept their brooms.”
“It’s not for storage at all.” He moved aside so she’d have a clearer view. “This back wall is another door. I believe this is an upstairs access between our buildings, with a lock on both sides for privacy.”
“You mean that other door opens from my side?” She studied it closer. “I haven’t reached this far in my cleaning yet, but I can picture just where it might be.”
She straightened. “How about that. The original owners must have been good friends to set this up.”
Everett nodded, still mulling over the implications. “I believe I heard somewhere they were brothers.”
“That makes sense.” Daisy nodded in satisfaction. “Their families probably did a lot of visiting back and forth.”
He dusted his hands. “Either they had a falling out or the new owners valued their privacy when the buildings changed hands.”
“That’s a shame. Neighbors should be, well, neighborly.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “But there’s no reason we can’t make use of this.”
What in the world was she thinking now? “Miss Johnson, I—”
“How would you feel about leaving the doors open whenever I’m over here cooking?”
Before he could respond, she quickly continued.
“With such easy access, I can work on a few things at my place while the food simmers. And I can even check in on Kip occasionally while I’m at it.”
Somehow that arrangement didn’t seem quite respectable. “I don’t—”
But she wasn’t finished. “Oh, and don’t you worry, I won’t skimp on the work I’m doing for you. I’ll only go over to my place when I’m not needed here.”
He shook his head irritably. “I don’t mind you splitting your time, as long as the meals are prepared properly. But there are proprieties to be observed.”
Her brow furrowed, and then she waved a dismissive hand. “I really can’t see how that would be an issue. After all, I’ll be over here cooking for you just about every day, and we haven’t made a secret of that. What difference can it make if that door is open when I’m at work here?”
It went against the grain with him to give even the appearance of bending the rules of polite society. Still, she was making sense in a roundabout kind of way. “If I agree to this, and I haven’t said I will, then I need your word that that animal of yours stays on your side of the wall.”
“That won’t be a problem.” Her eagerness was palpable. “This would be such a big help to me in getting my place livable more quickly.”
“I suppose there wouldn’t be any harm in it.” Though he still wasn’t fond of the idea. “But only during your working hours. And it would probably be best if we don’t spread the word about this easy access between our apartments. Some individuals might take it amiss.” Did she understand what he was saying?
“Thank you. I promise I’ll handle it just as you say. And don’t worry, I’ll keep my side securely locked when I’m done here for the day, just as propriety dictates.”
Maybe she’d gotten the message, after all.
She straightened. “Now, I’m going right over to my place to see if I can find my door and the key that goes with it. It seems the previous residents really wanted to shut each other out.”
“Family disputes can be among the bitterest.” Everett pushed away the memory of his own father.
She was still studying the door. “If I’m recollecting the layout right, I think there’s a rickety bookcase in front of the door on my end.”
He knew a hint when he heard one. “I suppose you’d like me to help move it.”
But she shook her head. “Oh, no, I was thinking out loud, not asking for help.”
She