177A/N: First I'd like to thank 'Covalent Bonds', 'leshagen', 'squintwannabe' and 'Jenny1701' for taking the time to review. To the other over 200 people who have read the first chapter, I appreciate your interest and I hope the story maintains that interest and you will continue to follow it. I have a large amount of the story written and will being posting every day or two.
As a background note, I grew up in the Lowell area. For two years I worked for a start-up high-tech company in the Wannalancit Technology Center (the Suffolk Mill Building). It is the picture posted with the story. I climbed the well worn treads of the circular stairs that the Lowell Girls climbed so many years ago. In the few areas not renovated, I saw the thick solid wood floors soaked with decades of grease and oil, the rough brick walls, and the many large windows that provided the only light.
The area in Lowell around the mills is now the only urban National Park in the United States. It is a living history and testament to the New England farm girls whose nimble fingers, strong dedication, and work ethic helped start the Industrial Revolution in the US. It's sad to think how many women of 'Dr Temperance Brennans' abilities were never afforded the opportunity in those times. It is more unconscious able that it is still the case today in many parts of the world.
John
8:30PM Friday, July 6, 1837
Mrs. Harris's Boarding House
Lowell, Massachusetts
Emily climbed sluggishly into her bed. Already she had removed her work dress and petticoats hanging them on one of the pegs across from the bed. On the next peg were her spare work dress, Sunday dress and extra apron. Her bonnet was beside Sophie's on the small bureau they shared along with her few books and the journal she kept of her writing. She settled into her side of the small shared bed in her nightwear gown and sleep bonnet. At supper, she had not been able to eat much. Mrs. Harris had provided Emily with one of her vile tasting remedies. It had yet to provide any relief as the chills and fever continued along with the dry cough.
She was alone in the small bedroom. Sophie was still downstairs with Bertha and Constance, the two girls who shared the other bed in the small attic room. The other small attic room was home to Jenny and the other seven young bobbin girls that worked in the mill with Emily and the other Lowell Girls. In most boardinghouses two girls shared each bed and there were three or four beds in each room. Emily and her three friends were older and had lived in the boardinghouse longest, so they were given the benefit of only the four of them sharing the small room.
Her mind wandered to the current state of her life. After her father's death ten years ago, her older brother Russell left her, on her own. She felt abandoned and alone. She coughed again … 'Damn'; she thought one of the few words in her limited vocabulary of swears. Her mind went back to her musings, neighbors took her in, but she felt in the way, unwanted, it was better that she left and made her own life. Mr. Lowell's ideas of a new concept in managing a planned automated factory, the 'Lowell System', provided an opportunity to control her own life, not be dependent on others. She was twenty-five and was one of the first of the groups of New England farm girls to work in the mills. She had her own independent life: her books, her writing, and her few friends in the mill. The one nagging concern in her life, she was alone, she had only the occasional suitor. She knew she was fast approaching spinsterhood. Sure, she liked to project an attitude of nonchalance about her inevitable future, she knew it was interpreted as a cold indifferent attitude, but she still felt the loneliness, the lack of a connection in her life, a family. Would she ever have the life that her friends had or looked forward to? Bertha was engaged. Constance had a steady suitor. Sophie was excited about Matthew, the new man in her life. What about her? Could she have a life with a husband, children, a family? 'Maybe I'm just one of those people who doesn't get to be in a family.' She sighed as she thought back over the few men that had expressed interest in her. Being taller than most of the available men did not work in her favor, but if she was really honest with herself, she knew she just didn't possess the subservient attitude men expected of a wife. She let out a sigh. "Oh, damnation" she mumbled. 'I do not care, I do not need a man, I have my books and my writing. I have a job to support myself; I do not need a man to run my life,' she thought defiantly.
In her heart, she knew she was lying to herself. She did want a man to make a life with. She did not expect love. She was not sure she knew what love was. She just wanted someone who would respect her for her intellect and her abilities. She thought back to Jim, her new overseer. She was older, she was experienced, she was intelligent, and she knew she could easily do an overseer's job in the mill. Would she have the opportunity for an overseer's job? She sighed, what was the point of thinking about it, it was men's work. She closed her eyes and thought about the last book she had read. It was new and different, about the western frontier. The hero was tall, ruggedly built, dark hair and eyes, handsome, and rode a white horse that was called a mustang. He rode into town, saved the heroine from evildoers, swept her off her feet and they rode off into the sunset, in love and happy together forever. 'Where was her hero on a white mustang?' She laughed wryly; it was a nice story, it made for a wonderful dream, but love, whatever it was? She was not expecting to be that lucky. Exhausted, she closed her eyes and sleep slowly overtook her.
8:30PM Friday, July 6, 2012
Suffolk Mill Condos
Lowell, Massachusetts
David looked at himself in the mirror. Loose black jeans, his favorite pair, a new black, gray and silver pattern shirt with cuffs rolled up to just below the elbows. Just barely showing around his neck was the chain with his dog tags. He didn't talk much about why he still wore them. It had already been two years since Iraq. He pulled his mind away for the thoughts that plagued him. Reaching down, he grabbed his trimmer and carefully made the final minor touchups to his beard line. He sighed, his thoughts wandered again. Hannah's lack of commitment when he felt he was ready, hurt, probably more than he wanted to admit. The similar ends with Tessa and Becca over the years, he was beginning to wonder if it was him … 'what is it with women, who just don't want what I'm offering here.' He mumbled to himself.
"My God, Booth. You thinking you're going to find your Bones tonight, being all studly?" Angela asserted with a laugh as David cringed at her nickname for him.
"Well one of us Boreanaz has to keep up appearances," he retorted as he looked at his baby sister's reflection in the mirror. She wasn't really a baby anymore, but twenty-seven years old, and two years out of law school or not, she would always be his baby sister.
He turned and looked directly at her. She reminded him of an older Taylor Swift, roughly the same height and figure, other than the brown eyes and hair, pretty close. He shook his head slightly as he grinned at her. "Jeez, Angela, you're going to drive poor Jack crazy in that outfit."
"You think so?" Angela asked, cocking her hip to one side and smirking. She had on her newest silver dress covered in a sea of sparkly, dangling tassels. With the three inch heels on her black calf high boots elevating her to over six feet in height, she was lucky to have a boyfriend almost five inches taller than her. For a change her hair wasn't tied up in her usual ponytail, it cascaded over her shoulders and half way down her back.
"Did you talk to Dad or Mom today?" Angela asked.
"Yeah, they're going out for Mom's birthday tomorrow night, just the two of them, she was thinking of Livingstone's in the old Manning Manse."
"Ah, so cute. They've been going there forever … Oh, what time did she say to be there Sunday?"
"Around 1 – 1:30," David said. Knowing that Angela and Jack were perpetually late for events, he added extra time to the 2:00 time Mom had said to cover their usual lateness. "She said Dad was doing burgers and dogs on the grill, with corn on the cob, and probably salad, for dinner."
"OK, shouldn't be a problem. You ready or do you still have more preening to do?" she raised an eyebrow as she sarcastically launched the verbal jab at him.
"You should talk," he replied defensively. "I'm ready. You do have all the shit you need for your weekend, right?"
"Fuck you," she said, smiling sweetly at him as they turned to leave.
1AM Saturday, July 7, 1837
Mrs. Harris's Boarding House
Lowell, Massachusetts
Emily sat up, the moonlight playing across the floor between the beds. She was awake again. Her coughing caused her bedmate to roll over and grumble in her sleep. Emily felt bad she was disturbing Sophie's sleep. Across from her, at least Bertha and Constance were quiet in their bed. She felt all sweaty from the fever and her throat was sore from the coughing. She decided some water might help her. She carefully slid out of the bed and felt her way in the dark down the many stairs and out the rear door in the back of the boardinghouse. The bright moonlight guided her to the well. She dropped the bucket down the narrow opening then pulled it back up. Using the available cup she scooped water and sipped a little. She hated not being able to see what she was drinking, so, she tried to keep her lips tight around the lip of the cup hoping to filter out whatever things in the water might try to pass through. When she was done she tossed the remainder of the water back in the well. She leaned against the side as another round of coughing hit her. She reached into the bucket, wet her hand and dabbed the cool water across her warm forehead and sighed. She started back to the house, but stopped and glanced over to the outhouse, just barely visible in the moonlight.
"While I am here, I should try to use the outhouse," she mumbled to herself.
The door screeched in protest as she pulled it open. In the dead of night, it sounded so much louder than during the day. She pulled up her bed gown and sat with her chin in her hands. "Forget a hero on a white mustang. At the moment, I will settle for a hero to stop this cough." She sighed. The outhouse door screeched again as she pushed it open, stepped out, and made her way back to bed.
1AM Saturday, July 7, 2012
'The Usual'
Lowell, Massachusetts
David slowly walked back to his group of friends in the corner of 'The Usual'. Shot down again, by two women in one night. His Seeley Booth persona was definitely striking out tonight. Fortunately, Hannah hadn't shown and most of the rest of the group were involved in their own activities and weren't paying much attention to his failures with the fairer sex. Angela and Jack however, were a little more observant.
"Hey, man what's the problem? You're off your game tonight." Jack laughingly sent a verbal jab at him. Angela nodded her head back and forth and gave him one of her classic smirks.
David sighed, "Well I'm done for tonight. My ego's had it."
"Ah come on, have another drink. The night is still young." Jack joked.
"Yeah, right, No I'm out of here. Angela are you still going home with this asshole?" David looked jokingly at Jack then smirked back at his sister. He knew the answer. After eight years of ups and downs, their relationship was solid enough to the point where Angela spent most every weekend at Jack's place. They had started to look into buying a house together. He had no problem with it. Jack was his best friend from school and he had introduced them.
In response to David's jab back at Jack, Angela grinned and sarcastically said, "I guess, unless I get a better offer." She made a big deal of looking around the club. Jack reached over, gently took her face in both hands and kissed her lovingly. When they broke apart, she looked into his eyes and said with a smile. "Nope, I like your offer Hodgins."
Jack grinned and shook his head at her 'Bones' reference nickname for him.
"See you guys at Mom and Dad's Sunday." David said over his shoulder as he headed out of the club.
Ten minutes later, he pulled up in front of his garage door, hit the remote and pulled his convertible in beside Angela's BMW. On the short ride home he thought about Jack and Angela, and how they finally got their shit together. Now his own rough romantic history played across his mind, Becca, Tessa, and Hannah, his three real relationships. Maybe now than he was thirty, it was time to get serious, find someone who was ready to commit, who wanted the same things he did. His dream of a life with a partner, a special someone, an equal to share his life, a wife, and maybe kids too. Well it isn't like the right one just falls out of sky or just appears, saying hello, my name is … He laughed to himself at the thought as he entered his bathroom. He stripped off his shirt, tossed it toward the dirty clothes basket under the 2011 Bruins Stanley Cup Champion poster. He sighed. Maybe a quick shower would help wash away the bad night. It was going on two by the time he collapsed in bed.