The Grey House

The Grey House -

Mom's family's reunion was coming up soon. A request of attendees was that we each bring a photo of the past to be shared on “Memory Night.” I had been left with Mom's photo albums, after her passing and combined with my collection I had a lot of past photos to scan through. Several hours passed just viewing photos, sometimes losing myself in the memory they evoked. I was particularly drawn to the old black and white photos from Mom and Dad's era. Mom had made reference to how she loved the times spent with her grandmother so I was hoping to find one that expressed that. We were given copies of a photo of Mom's mother as a child, standing on a stool next to her very pretty mother, Marja, but no others.. Grandma had been an only child, yet she and Grandpa had eleven children. How different Grandma's life had become with so many children, when she had been the center of attention in her own childhood. 

Dumping a canvas bag of loose photos in the middle of my bed, I slid them across my bedspread so that I could view more of them at a glance, not one by one. It was then my eyes captured the photo of the grey house of the 1800's still standing in the U.P. Some years ago while visiting upper Michigan, I was asked to go by the house to take a picture. The grey house had a story to tell, but had been kept an unspoken subject for most of my life. I wanted desperately to know the mystery surrounding the beautiful, old Victorian home.

The grey house was where my great grandmother Marja, had been a maid, when she came to America from Finland. Its grey painted steps led up to a wide, white spindled, grand porch, while at the back was a small porch and stairs that led to the servant's entrance. I imagined this was where Marja entered. We had learned very little about her, as my grandmother refused to talk about her childhood. While my mom and her sisters remained committed to keeping their mother's young life unspoken, it piqued my curiosity more. What had taken place that must be kept secret forever? What I knew with certainty was that Mom had told me my great grandfather William, was not my grandma's biological father.

Gazing at the photo, I remembered walking the perimeter of the grey house, and feeling a sense of familiarity. I didn't know how that could be as I had never been there before. I longed to go inside, however, the caretaker of the property was not at home. I had to be satisfied with peering into the windows of the front and side porch. I then took a seat on the back steps. There, I began to allow my mind to imagine life as it must have been when my great-grandmother worked there some hundred plus years ago. I rested my back against the newel post as I gazed about the withered, no longer landscaped property and began to let my mind wander. I had stored some pieces of stories my mother had shared about grandmother Marja, as she had been very close with her. This made it easier to imagine with some clarity of Marja's experiences here at the grey house. I drifted back to that time.

Scurrying up the back steps to the servant's door, she was certain to be on time and not a minute late to start her day. Quickly unbuttoning her lightweight cape, and placing it on the coat rack along with her hat, she picked up her white pinafore apron heading across the polished wood kitchen floor to the parlor. Greeting the Dubois, “Good Morning, Ma'am Good Morning, Sir.” she said. Her face felt a little flushed as not only was this her first day, but she also did not speak English clearly. She had been practicing it on the way over on the ship, knowing if she was to get a job in America, she must speak the language. At home, her parents only spoke Finnish, which made it difficult to practice her pronunciations, but she was determined.

“Good Morning,” the misses answered, glancing over at Marja. A short grunt sound could be heard from the mister as he continued reading his newspaper in his easy chair. The room was bright with windows, flanked by satin drapery pulled aside for the daytime, facing the front of the house as well as two windows on either side of the fireplace that had already been lit, with a cozy fire.

“Would you like me to prepare you some breakfast, Ma'am? Do you have a preference in what I should serve? Perhaps hot porridge or eggs and Pulla?” 

“What is Pulla, or Bulla...did you say?” asked the misses with irritation. 

Marja quickly realized she had made a mistake calling breakfast toast, “Pula” which was Finnish. Flustered, she quickly apologized, “I am so sorry, Ma'am..that is a Finnish breakfast bread.” 

“Porridge, which we call cooked oats with fresh fruit and coffee, will be fine.” 

“Yes ma'am,” Marja replied as she made her way back to the kitchen. Embarrassed that she had already made two English language gaffes, she was determined to be more careful when she spoke. 

Familiarizing herself with the kitchen as to where the dishes, utensils, as well as cookware were, took a bit of getting used to. The pantry held the dried grain for their cooked oats as well as spices and jams that she could offer as toppers. The fresh fruit was stored in a rather large refrigerator, something only the more wealthy could afford. Placing some fresh berries in a colander to be washed, Marja hurried her steps, so as not to make the owners impatient as they waited for their breakfast. 

Creating an inviting setting for them at their dining table, Mrs. Dubois smiled with approval. Marja poured their coffee as she asked, “Would you like me to freshen the bedroom while you eat Ma'am?”

“Yes. That would be fine. We like to enjoy our breakfast in leisure and then you can pick up our dishes after.” Once again, a rather forced smile, showed her agreement with Marja's service.

She had remembered from her interview that the master bedroom was up the center stairwell, the first room on the right. Noting several bedrooms on the second level, Marja. wondered if others lived with the couple? They were perhaps middle aged, but could still have children living at home. Entering the master bedroom which was quite large, featured an enormous carved headboard over a full size bed. She traced her fingertips along the intricately carved motifs of flowers and curved vines that trailed up and across on each side. She had never seen anything quite so lovely in Finland. A delicate blue and white floral patterned wallpaper set off the all white elegant linens that covered the bed. Sheer panels with lace edging covered the windows that were a backdrop for the two blue velvet sitting chairs and small round table that likely was where they had their night cocktails before retiring. The bureau was of the same wood as the headboard, featuring four large drawers with brass pulls along with a matching armoire. Fluffing the pillows as she finished making the bed, Marja was quite certain she heard a noise from one of the other rooms. I best hurry downstairs she thought, before she perhaps had disturbed someone's sleep in one of the adjoining rooms. 

Continuing to busy herself with the chores she had imagined were necessary for the remainder of the day, made the time pass quickly. Her last chore was to prepare dinner and she had already started a roast in the oven of the beautifully ornate Victorian white iron stove that was the feature of the kitchen. The smell was heavenly, only topped by the fresh apple pie for dessert.

Upon finishing their dinner and Marja clearing up the dishes, she approached Mrs. Dubois, stating,“If there is nothing more you would like me to do today, Ma'am, I will be getting on home and seeing you in the morning.” 

“Yes, we are done for the day. We did quite enjoy the dinner you prepared, miss.” she added, once again putting together a slight smile. 

“Thank you, Ma'am.” Marja quickly placed her arms through her cape, grabbed her hat that she tied as she made her way down the drive. I think everything went quite well, she told herself as she let out a deep sigh of relief and tiredness. I wonder if the Dubois felt the same? They did not share much conversation with her,so it was difficult for her to know how well she had done.

Marja picked up her step as she now headed down the hill toward town. Her parents, Aiti and Isa would be pleased that all had gone well and she was anxious to share her day.

II

With a slight tap at the servant's door, Marja turned the knob to begin her second month at the Dubois home. “Good Morning.” She greeted the couple seated as usual in the parlor.

Marja had introduced the Dubois to her delightful morning bread of Pulla, which they now preferred with their coffee versus cooked oats. Placing chilled saucers of thimble berry jam beside their plates, Marja poured their coffee and promptly made her way upstairs to freshen the bedroom. Today, she planned to strip the bed and do some washing, as well as hang the bedspread on the outdoor line to air in the noonday sun. Heading toward the master bathroom, she sought to gather the used towels and washcloths as well.

Suddenly, the door across the hallway opened and a young gentleman with dark hair and deep-set brown eyes appeared. He didn't look to be much older than Marja, but the Dubois had never mentioned his being a member of the household. “Good Morning.” he said,

Instantly, blushing from being caught by surprise she replied, “Oh, Good Morning, Sir. She kept her eyes down as she quickly turned to make her way back to the master bedroom.

“May I learn your name, miss?” He asked. “I am Edward. I am one of my parent's youngest sons, and often spend the night in the area. I hope I didn't frighten you.”

“Oh, that's okay," she said, hoping that her Finnish accent was not making her words indiscernible. I wasn't aware that anyone was up here. My name is Marja. I have been working for your parents for several weeks now.”she replied. “I best be getting downstairs to see if they have finished their breakfast, and start the laundry.” she said with a faint smile, as to not appear stuffy yet, also not too free to speak. She had learned that one had to respect the position of hired help and not appear too comfortable in making conversation.

Allowing Edward to step in front and head downstairs to join his parents, Marja returned to the bedroom to retrieve the basket with the bedding. Hurriedly she made her way downstairs, watching carefully that her long skirt didn't catch on the carpeting. She was glad she had worn one of her newer aprons and blouses to make a decent impression on the young man. 

The Dubois had made their way to the parlor and briefly glanced up as Marja came through with the bedding. “Did you meet our son Edward, miss?” Mr. Dubois asked. 

“Yes sir. I hope I didn't wake him with my scurrying about?”she replied, continuing with the basket to the back entrance.“Let me gather up your dishes, before I start the laundry, and then I will get on with the dinner preparation. Should I include your son for dinner this evening?”

Mrs. Dubois answered, “Yes, could you set a place for Edward as well? 

“Yes Ma'am” she replied. Secretly, she was pleased to learn Edward would be back. Not only was he quite handsome, but she enjoyed the presence of another person around her age in the home. 

Heading out the back door with the clean laundry, Marja noted Edward had taken a seat on the top step smoking a cigarette and obviously deep in thought. “Excuse me sir, may I just get past you to take these out to the back line?” 

Turning, breaking his train of thought, he smiled. “Of course. But here, let me carry the basket for you.” he demanded taking it from her. Marja followed quickly behind. Her heart beat quicker, just being in his presence. She hoped her face was not flushed as it tended to be when she was the least bit nervous. Reaching down into the basket, she first set to pull the large bed sheet out, just as Edward also reached down for it. Their foreheads brushed up against one another as she stood up.

“Oh, I am sorry.”she said looking into his eyes. 

“Well, I am not sorry at all,” he said, as he reached over to brush aside the hair that had fallen into her face. His smile was captivating as she tried to catch her breath. Looking at one another Marja was overcome with fear that perhaps the Dubois would have peered through the window and noticed their son helping the maid hang out the laundry.  

Completing the hanging of the laundry, she returned to the mud room where she left the basket before heading into the kitchen. Her face felt flushed as Mrs. Dubois was standing next to the counter and appeared somewhat concerned with how long Marja had been outside. “Do you have a dinner menu planned for today?' she asked, putting Marja on the defensive. . 

“Yes, Ma'am I plan to prepare fresh White fish with a dill sauce and roasted potatoes with parsley. Does that sound okay to you, Ma'am?”

“It's not a matter of whether it sounds okay to me, miss. I just wondered if you will be having sufficient time to prepare it, as your other chores seem to have taken more of your time today.” Her tone was a bit condescending, leading Marja to feel certain she had seen both Edward and her together hanging the laundry. She did not turn around and yet sensed his presence.

“Mother. Must you be so harsh with Miss Marja? She has been scurrying about trying to get her work done, while I continue to interrupt her. I am sure she will prepare a delicious dinner.” “Why don't we go into the parlor and give her space to do her job.” he continued, flashing a warm smile Marja's way, while ushering his mother from the kitchen.

Setting the dining table for three, and placing their meals on a satiny damask tablecloth, she announced that “Dinner is set Ma'am..I will bring in the aired linens and set about completing your bedroom while you enjoy dinner with your son.” Without looking at the family dining she made her way up the stairwell with the bedding. The sun was quickly heading toward sunset, which would make her walk home close to dark. Hurriedly she completed the dish washing.

The family was again sitting in the parlor, as Marja entered. “Was dinner satisfactory, Ma'am?” she asked. 

“Yes, miss, we quite enjoyed the delicate dill sauce with the fish. You are very well versed in the kitchen I see, and that is good.”

“Thank you, Ma'am” she replied purposely avoiding eye contact with Edward.

Marja's thoughts were whirling in her head. I can't entertain these feelings for Edward, she told herself. This is wrong and could cost me my job. She quickened her steps. Folding the cape over her left arm, she sensed someone was walking behind her. Hearing the sound of shoes along with hers making a soft, crunching sound on the dirt shoulder she was frightened. “Marja, please don't be frightened, it is Edward. I'd like to speak with you if you can hold up a bit.” 

Hearing his soft voice, she stopped. With Edward now beside her she wasn't sure what to say or do. Gently, he put his hand at the back of her waist guiding her off from the highway at the next pathway. “Marja, I want to tell you I am sorry if my actions today made it difficult for you with my parent's help. Could you please just sit on this log and let me finish?” he asked.

“It makes no difference to me that you are the hired help for my parents. I'm not concerned with one's stature or financial position. I want you to know there is something telling me that I have found a special person in you. I don't know what you may feel for me...if anything. But, I am willing to try to find a way that we could spend time together and get to know one another better...if you are willing?

“Edward. I am so confused as to how to address this issue. I cannot forget that I am your parent's maid. You should not even be speaking with me.” A tear filled the corner of her eye, being touched by his open expression of feeling. Dropping her head, he caught her chin with his hand, lifting her face up. 

“Don't look down, dear. I am very fond of you.” he exclaimed. Getting on his knee facing Marja, he took her hand and kissed it. “Do not worry my dear Marja, I will never hurt you, and trust that I will make it possible for us to be together. Now, let me walk you down to town, as it is getting dark and I would not want anything to happen to you.” Giving her his arm he lifted her from the log and said, “Now follow me, my dear Marja.”