A Deep Divide

by Kimberley Woodhouse

  Frank had reminded him that God didn’t need his help. He’d also encouraged him to step back for a few days and give her some space. It would give his own mind time to pause and reflect.

  Ray had done just that. The past few days had been tortuous for him, but he was glad he’d listened. He’d even asked to sit at other tables for a few days. Which had made him miss Emma Grace even more, and he was certain it had completely confused her, given the looks he’d seen across the dining room.

  Thankfully, it had been a really busy week ever since Dad’s telegram. The next day, his father had sent a second telegram with a list of everything he wanted accomplished before he arrived, plus everything he demanded the hotel have for him. Yes, demanded. When had Dad started using such harsh language? Granted, things hadn’t been the same since Mother passed, but he thought for sure that Dad would loosen up at this point.

  His father had been investing in anything and everything. All because he wanted to be known. At least that’s what Ray took out of it.

  The deeper he got in his study of the Word and his relationship with the Lord, the more distant he felt from his father and what he wanted for the Watkins empire. Because Dad just didn’t make sense to him anymore.

  The thing that really put him over the edge was that his father’s men stole all those jewels. If Ben’s words in the jail were any indication, Ray didn’t know his father. “Where do you think we learned our behavior, Junior?”

  Not if the implication in those words was true.

  Was it a coincidence that Dad not only knew the jeweler and had worked with him, but then his own men knew what train the man would be on and stole from him? It seemed almost too easy. And no one would have been the wiser if the guys hadn’t decided to play poker and try to cheat at that too.

  Ray looked at his watch for the umpteenth time and felt a little thrill of relief knowing that he could finally go in and see Emma Grace. Pushing thoughts of his dad aside, he went inside.

  As the host greeted him, he asked for his usual table.

  The older man grinned, something Ray hadn’t seen very often. “This way, sir.”

  “Thank you.” Ray couldn’t help but smile. He couldn’t wait to see her face.

  There she was. Walking toward him in her pristine dress and apron. Her glasses made her look studious and a bit more serious, but what enchanted him the most was her eyes. She could convey a world of emotion in her eyes. No matter how hard she tried to keep to herself.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Watkins.” She looked as puzzled at his presence now as she had by his absence. “How have you been?”

  “Quite well, Miss Edwards, but very busy. I’m sorry for my absence.”

  “Why have you been giving up your favorite table? You’ve still been coming in to eat.” She poured him a glass of water. It didn’t seem to bother her to get to the point, a fact that made him think she was comfortable enough with him to speak her mind. That was a good sign, right?

  It was now or never. He was tired of waiting. “Actually, under the advisement of a good friend, I’ve been spending a bit of time praying about this, and I would like to ask you if you would be free in the evenings for a walk.”

  “Why did you need to pray about that?” Was she offended? Standing there with the water pitcher in one hand and coffee carafe in the other, she looked at him as though he might have mixed up his words.

  He took a moment to go back over what he’d said. “Well . . . I didn’t want to jump in too soon or stick my foot in my mouth like I just did, apparently. I don’t wish to put you in any uncomfortable situation. I simply want to get to know you better. Just like we talked about on the hike.”

  “Oh, I see.” She filled his coffee cup, but her brow was still furrowed.

  “My friend also said it would be good to give you some space for a few days since I had dominated your time and energy. That was why I gave up my table.” His nervousness came out in a soft laugh.

  “Does your friend know me?”

  “Yes, he does.”

  Understanding registered on her face. “Ah, so it was Frank. I see. It makes sense now. That was very sensitive of him to think of that.”

  “Does that mean you agree to walk with me in the evenings?”

  She pursed her lips. “You’re inviting me to walk with you every evening? What if there’s another gentleman I’ve already agreed to spend time with?”

  His heart sank as heat rushed to his head. He hadn’t thought of that. “Oh, well . . . I don’t wish to monopolize all your time. I—”

  “I’m teasing you, Ray.” Her tone was a bit hushed. “I will gladly accept your invitation. I have to be honest, though, the weather may not always permit it, and there might be times my workload will keep me late.”

  “I don’t mind. I’ll wait. Perhaps when the weather is foul, we can sit and visit in the Rendezvous Room? Or maybe the Music Room?” He hoped his eagerness wouldn’t overwhelm her.

  “I’ll have to change out of my uniform, but yes, that would be lovely.” The smile she bestowed on him was brighter than any he’d ever seen on her face. “Is the invitation good for this evening?”

  “Yes. I’ll be here for dinner and then I’ll wait for you. If that’s all right?”

  “I’d like that.” After a glance around the room, her features were serious again. “Now, Mr. Watkins, I must ask what you would like to order for luncheon today.”

  He sat up a bit straighter and looked at his menu. That’s right. He was here for luncheon. But he couldn’t focus on it. “I tell you what, you’ve done an excellent job surprising me with sumptuous meals in the past. Would you mind choosing something for me? I admit to being a bit distracted by a lovely woman.” He had no idea if he was handling the situation correctly, but when her cheeks flushed, it gave him a boost of confidence. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.

  “I will gladly do that for you. I should probably attend to my other tables now. I don’t want to get into trouble because I’ve neglected our guests.”

  “Please. Take care of them. I’ll be here.”

  She walked away with a smile on her face. That was all the encouragement he needed to make it through the rest of the day. Tonight, he would get to spend time with her.

  As he watched the bustling dining room around him, he admired the hard work the Harvey Girls put in every day. The coffee that all Harvey Houses were famous for was always freshly brewed, with the guests’ cups filled continuously. The place was spotless, with everything in order, and the traffic of the busy kitchen all seemed to move in perfect rhythm.

  His stomach rumbled as the scent of freshly baked bread wafted over to him.

  Emma Grace brought him a generous basket of it and a plate of butter. Then she deposited a large bowl of French onion soup. “I thought it might ward off the chill of the wind today.”

  As he enjoyed his meal, Emma Grace appeared a few extra times. They didn’t take time for much conversation, but he appreciated her smiles. She was a wonder and to think that she’d agreed to take a walk with him.

  He left the dining room with a new spring in his step.

  “Son!” His father’s voice caught him off guard.

  He turned, and sure enough Dad was standing at the front desk.

  “I didn’t know you were coming in today, Dad. But I’m so glad you’re here.” Stepping forward, he went to hug his father, but his dad simply held out a hand to shake. Well, this was new.

  “Good to see you too, son.” He tucked a newspaper under his arm. “Come, we’ve got lots of business to attend to.”

  “Of course. I understand.” He didn’t really, but there was no use trying to get his dad to relax after the long and grueling train ride. There was no use ever trying to change his father’s mind. He led his dad up the stairs to their rooms. “Here we are.”

  “This is a fine hotel. Yes, a fine hotel indeed.” His dad bobbed his head up and down as he looked around the hall. “Here, I have something to show you.”
r />   Unlocking his door, his dad handed the newspaper to him. “Can you believe it?”

  “Um . . . believe what?” Ray flicked open the paper and saw a headline about a murderer at large.

  “Not that.” Dad’s exasperation was evident, and he stabbed at the paper with a finger. “This, right here.”

  “‘America’s Richest and Their Philanthropy,’” he read aloud. Ray scanned the article but couldn’t find what would be perturbing Dad to such an extreme.

  “It’s a shame. I’ve had my lawyers contact that horrible reporter. To think that Carnegie, Vanderbilt, Astor, and Rockefeller have all been named and there’s not one mention of me as one of the richest men.”

  Should he state the obvious?

  But his dad went on. “It is well known that I am the richest man in Chicago. My name should be listed with these other men. There are not many others in our league, son. I expect to be recognized.”

  “I understand how you might feel slighted, Dad, but—”

  “There’s no ‘but.’ And this isn’t just a slight. I deserve to have what’s rightfully mine.” His face was now red and mottled.

  Ray read the article in full while Dad paced the room and continued his rant. Once Ray finished it, he folded the paper neatly and laid it down.

  “See? Not one mention of me.”

  “I know that this is frustrating for you. . . .” But what could he say? His father was off his rocker and fanatical about wealth and recognition. Was there any way to temper it? The best he could do would be to tell the truth. “But this article is about these wealthy men and their giving over the years—not just the fact that they are the richest. Carnegie has given away ninety percent of his wealth.”

  “Well, that’s just ridiculous. Who cares about them giving it away?”

  “Obviously the readers of the paper, Dad. People don’t just want to know about rich people and how they’ve accumulated more or how they live. Times have been hard. We just came out of a two-year recession. It left many without anything. Those people want to know how the rich are giving back to their communities, to charities, to churches, all of it. Maybe it helps them to feel better about themselves when they see how the wealthy give too.”

  “Are you saying I’m not good enough because I don’t give? Well, that’s preposterous. Just because I’ve been smart in my investments and don’t throw all my money away doesn’t mean that I’m not equal to Carnegie or Vanderbilt.”

  “No one is saying that you aren’t, Dad.” There was no way to appease his father when he got like this. “I was just pointing out that the topic of the article wasn’t their wealth but what they gave away.”

  Dad looked like he might explode, but then his face changed and he waved a hand at Ray, as if he was dismissing him. “I still don’t like it. But I’ll deal with it later. Please tell John to unpack my things once he’s up here.” He turned and headed toward his bed. “I’m going to lie down. Confounded article gave me a headache.”

  Another oddity. Dad never rested in the middle of the day. But Ray would take the time to go to his room and pray. Something wasn’t right, and he had no idea how to fix it. “Would you like me to wake you for dinner?”

  “Yes, and make sure that they have everything I’ve requested.”

  “Of course.” Ray let himself out and went to his own room. The problem before him required a good deal of thought. He went to his photography equipment and pulled it all out. The best way he worked through an issue was to put things in order or reorganize.

  The picture of Emma Grace up on the rock with her back to the camera was quite remarkable. The expanse of the canyon before her. But it was the picture from their picnic the other day that made him smile wider. Obviously camera shy, she’d hidden the majority of her face with her hat. The silhouette of her face drew him in. He wanted to know everything about her.

  As he placed the pictures back on the desk and then sorted through the glass plates, his thoughts went back to his father’s oddities of late. He mulled over his options. Maybe he could speak to other staff of his father’s, perhaps even his secretary back in Chicago or, better yet, to John about his father’s changed behavior. The valet knew the senior Watkins quite well after all these years.

  With the words of Ben and George repeating in his mind, along with the telegrams, and now Dad’s behavior, one thing was certain: Dad wasn’t himself. And he wasn’t getting any better.

  Emma Grace dashed from one table to the next as the dinner rush was even busier tonight than usual. And there were two girls sick, which didn’t help matters. Now she had extra tables and had to assist Ruth with the head waitress duties since she was also in charge of tables. What a night.

  The good thing about it all was that she had something really wonderful to look forward to tonight.

  The walk with Ray.

  Not that she had any dreamy expectations. She was determined to find out whether the man was as trustworthy as he seemed. Besides, she wasn’t sure she wanted to pursue anything more at this moment. She’d made a commitment to the El Tovar and Harvey. She’d been perfectly content to think that she would remain single and waitress for the rest of her life, or at least until she was too old for Harvey’s standards.

  But all that changed during the picnic. She had to admit to herself that Ray drew her in. He was interesting and not like all the other rich men she’d known. She couldn’t help that her stomach filled with butterflies now when he looked at her. The fact that he had taken the time to get advice and to pray about pursuing her actually made her feel wanted and special.

  As if she’d conjured him by her thoughts, she spotted Ray in the host’s hallway outside the dining room. He was later than usual. Then she noticed an older gentleman with him.

  Oh boy. That must be his father. Ray had said he would be coming.

  With a deep breath, she carried the food to table two. Table one had finished their dinner and the table would be open soon enough. Then the Watkins men would be seated and she’d get to meet Ray’s father. The question was, what would he think of her?

  The gentleman at table three lifted his finger in the air. Attention back on the job at hand, she hurried over to see to his request.

  “What can I get you, sir?”

  “My wife simply suggested that we needed to thank you. Your attention to detail has been lovely this evening.” The man smiled over at his wife.

  The woman tipped her head at him in a sweet and loving manner. “You see, it’s our anniversary, and we decided to splurge and come out to the Grand Canyon to celebrate.”

  “Happy anniversary and thank you for your kind words. It is my privilege to honor you in such a way. Would you like to end the evening with a piece of pie or perhaps a slice of our chef’s famous coconut cake?”

  “That cake sounds wonderful. Let’s try that.” The wife patted her husband’s arm.

  “A very good choice. I’ll be right back with your dessert.”

  Armed with the couple’s compliment, she watched as their host seated Ray and the man she presumed was his father. She couldn’t help but grin. So far, the night was going quite well, even if it was busy.

  After putting in the order for the cake, she headed to table one. “Good evening, Mr. Watkins.” She nodded at Ray.

  “Miss Edwards, I’d like to introduce you to my father, Mr. Ray Watkins Senior.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Watkins.” Even though all of a sudden she felt nervous, she made sure to smile and look the man in the eye.

  He looked away. “I’d like some water and coffee. Cream and sugar.”

  She blinked. No “nice to meet you” or anything. “Of course, sir. I’ll be right back with those.” Turning on her heel, she felt the flush build in her face. Was the man intentionally rude? Or just too good to speak to a lowly waitress?

  She made her way back to the table with water and coffee. Maybe she needed to prepare herself for the worst. With a stiff spine, she returned to table one. As s
he poured the water and then the coffee, the senior Mr. Watkins didn’t even say a word of gratitude.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she looked at Ray.

  “Thank you, Miss Edwards.” His smile was the same as it always was for her. Warm and kind.

  “Have you gentlemen decided what you would like for dinner?”

  Ray’s father was quick to speak. “I’d like the chef’s special for tonight. Along with the asparagus and the pickle platter.”

  “Of course, sir. Would you also like to order dessert at this time, or would you like to wait?”

  “I assume there is Harvey’s famous apple pie?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. That is what I want. With vanilla ice cream.” He turned to his son. “You did tell the manager that I insisted on ice cream being made fresh daily?”

  “I did, although it isn’t necessary. Chef Marques is impeccable.” Ray smoothed his napkin into his lap.

  “Don’t argue with me in front of the staff, son.” Mr. Watkins wouldn’t even look at her.

  The staff? Well, he was correct. She was the staff. “I’ll make sure that the kitchen knows exactly what you would like. And for you, Mr. Watkins?” She shifted her attention to Ray.

  “I do believe the roast beef sounds good. With creamed potatoes and carrots. I’ll have the coconut cake for dessert. Thank you, Miss Edwards.” While he seemed genuine enough, it was easy to see that he was on edge. Was it because of his father? Or because of her?

  “I’ll be back with your dinners shortly, gentlemen.” No sense lingering for conversation. It was obvious that Ray’s father didn’t want her around.

  The evening passed in a weird and strange way. Never had Emma Grace felt so awkward in front of anyone until Mr. Ray Watkins Senior was at her table. No matter what she did, it wasn’t good enough for him to even acknowledge her. Ray even apologized to her at one point, to which his father scolded him. It was all so very odd.