“Oh, what do we have there?” Mary Ellen asked brightly, turning from the mirror and walking toward the table.
“Mrs. Parker didn’t think it would be a good idea for you to skip lunch, so she instructed me to bring up a tray of food.”
“It’s very thoughtful of Mrs. Parker, but I had a big breakfast, and I was planning on skipping lunch so I could better enjoy my dinner out.”
“Oh but ma’am, it’s not a good idea to skip a meal…I mean…” Lily blushed.
“Yes, I understand what you’re saying. But I do wish Mrs. Parker wouldn’t fret about me so. Come, sit down and help me eat this!”
Lily started to decline but Mary Ellen pulled out a chair for the maid and motioned for her to sit down. Giving a shrug, Lily sat down as Mary Ellen took the second chair.
“Have you had lunch yet?” Mary Ellen asked.
“No ma’am.” Lily eyed the chicken sandwich. Mary Ellen smiled, then picked up one-half of the sandwich and handed it to Lily. Reluctantly, the maid accepted the offering.
“I’m going to see Tarzan of the Apes today.” Mary Ellen announced before picking up the second half of the sandwich and taking a bite.
“I heard it was a good one.”
“You haven’t seen it?”
“No, but I do love going to the movies.”
Mary Ellen took another bite of the sandwich. Lily thought it odd to be sharing a lunch with her mistress while discussing movies, but she withheld comment.
“I guess I was a little hungry,” Mary Ellen said.
Lily smiled and continued to eat her half of the sandwich.
“It doesn’t feel as hot as it has been all week,” Mary Ellen noted. “I hope it isn’t too warm in the theatre.”
“It’s been in the 80s all week. But it does feel a bit cooler today. Would you like me to fix your hair up, ma’am? That way if it warms up, it won’t feel so hot.”
“Oh, could you? I’m not very good with my hair, and it’s just easier for me to wear it down. But I suppose the proper thing is to wear it up, now that I’m married.”
“You’d look real keen with one of those bob cuts the ladies have been wearing. You’ve the face for it.”
“Thank you, Lily.” Mary Ellen blushed. “I would be tempted, but I will confess, my husband has already instructed me not to cut my hair. I suppose that is a husband’s prerogative.”
“Yes, ma’am. I wouldn’t want to encourage you to do anything Mr. Coulson would disapprove of.”
• • • •
When William arrived an hour later to pick up Mary Ellen, he was surprised to find her long hair swept atop her head in a sophisticated hairstyle. No longer did she remind him of a naïve schoolgirl. The feminine chignon accentuated her blue eyes, making them seem somehow larger, and more compelling. For a brief moment, he imagined himself plucking the pins from her hair, one by one, as each freed curl fell gracefully to her shoulders—her bare shoulders.
“Are you all right, William?” Mary Ellen asked, as he stood speechless, staring blankly in her direction. Blinking his eyes, he shook his head briefly and smiled sheepishly.
“I apologize, I… I was just surprised to see your hair like that.”
Suddenly embarrassed, Mary Ellen quickly touched the side of her head. “Oh, it looks awful?”
“No! Oh no,” William replied. “I’m sorry. No, it looks quite lovely in fact. It suits you.” William began to laugh when he noted her look of confusion. Taking her elbow in his hand, he guided her toward the front door so they could be on their way.
“Let me explain,” he began, as he opened the front door. “When I picked you up at the train station, I noticed your lovely hair. I thought it a shame so many women hide theirs once they wed, and since you were getting married, I assumed you would too.” He shut the front door behind them and they walked toward his motorcar.
“But that style does suit you. Brings out your eyes. Your husband will love it.”
“Will he?” she asked softly, while getting into the passenger side of the car. She held her handbag and hat atop her lap, and waited for William to get into his side of the car. When he started down the drive, she continued the discussion.
“It is much cooler this way. But perhaps I should cut it short. Seems to be quite the rage these days.” She watched for his reaction, wondering if he felt the same way as her husband. He smiled and glanced over to her, then wrinkled his nose for a moment before turning his attention back to the road.
“Personally, after seeing you with your hair up, I imagine you would look quite adorable in a Castle bob. But I’m afraid your husband would have a different idea.”
“Oh yes, he’s already made it very clear I’m not to cut my hair.”
“Ahh, so you were just baiting me. Shame on you.” He chuckled.
“Baiting you?”
“I can’t imagine you’re really considering cutting your hair as you just mentioned, since your husband has already forbade it.”
“Tell me William, do you believe it’s the husband’s right to have a final say in all that his wife does? Are women nothing but children?”
“I will say, Mary Ellen, I certainly didn’t expect that question from you.”
“Why? Is that the perception you have of me? A timid and obedient creature?” Mary Ellen glanced out the side window and watched the scenery roll by.
Before he could respond she added, “Of course, that would be a reasonable assumption, considering I obeyed my father and married a man I barely knew.”
“What’s wrong, Mary Ellen?” he asked softly.
“Oh, I’m sorry William.” Mary Ellen blushed. “I’m really looking forward to the movie and dinner out. I don’t mean to put a cloud on the day. I guess the reminder that I need husband approval to do something as inane as change my hairstyle put me into a quarrelsome mood. I apologize.”
“Times are changing Mary Ellen. I keep reminding Randall of that.”
“When you marry someday, will you tell your wife how she must wear her hair?”
“Well,” he replied, considering the question for a moment while steering his car down the road. “I would hope that if I really hated a hairstyle, she would not insist on wearing it that way—but no, I would not forbid her on such a matter. In the same way, if my wife hated me with a beard, I wouldn’t wear one.”
“Oh, I don’t think I’d like you in a beard,” Mary Ellen said. William smiled and thought, then I won’t grow one.
“Have you heard from your family?” William changed the subject.
“I’ve received a couple letters from Aunt Rachael, but nothing from my father.”
“What about your mother?”
“No. My mother hasn’t been doing well since my brother was killed overseas. According to my aunt’s letters, her condition isn’t improving.”
“Your father hasn’t written you?”
“No, he isn’t much of a letter writer.”
“Why don’t you call him?”
“We don’t have a telephone. My father feels they’re a waste of money.”
“If you want, I could arrange a call to the factory. He can come to the main office and use that phone.”
“Thank you William, but no. My father would be very annoyed if I did that to him while he was at work. No, for now letters with Aunt Rachel will be enough.”
“What about your older brothers? I understand you have a few in the military overseas.”
“I’ve sent letters, but never get anything back. I have to assume they’re okay, or I would have heard something from Aunt Rachael.”
“I’ve never considered how lonely it must be for you. You’ve been here for a little over a month and haven’t had an opportunity to meet anyone. I’m afraid when Randall is in the midst of business negotiations, socializing isn’t a priority for him, unless of course it benefits the business deal.”
“Well I did meet Mrs. Hanover. We had an interesting visit.”
“I almost forgot
about Mrs. Hanover.”
“You know about her?”
“I understand ambitious mothers often use her services when preparing their daughters for coming out. But from what I understand, Mrs. Hanover told Randall you were absolutely lovely, and she couldn’t understand why he thought you needed her services.”
Mary Ellen blushed then flashed him a shy smile.
“Well, she was very sweet to me. Upon our first meeting we had a nice long talk; I suppose it was her way to better understand how she could fix me.”
“Fix you?” Randall laughed at the notion. He couldn’t imagine there was anything about Mary Ellen that needed fixing.
“Now that I recall, Lily said Mrs. Hanover was to polish me up, or something like that.”
“Lily, one of the maids, right?”
“Yes. Lily isn’t so bad. She just has a habit of speaking before thinking. I’ll confess I did find the notion of polishing me somewhat insulting.”
“I can imagine. So tell me, how did you and Mrs. Hanover spend your time?”
“Actually, I suppose she was helpful. She did explain some of the social customs here that are different from home. So I suspect in a way she did polish me. She also filled me in on the who’s who around the neighborhood and town. I must say that woman knows everyone!”
“Yes, she does.” Randall chuckled.
“We only met about three times for tea. Although I suppose Randall assumed she would be walking me around a room with a book atop my head.”
“With your perfect posture, I doubt that would be necessary.”
“Well, it does make for an amusing parlor game,” Mary Ellen said brightly. She wished she could speak so casually with her own husband.
Chapter Eleven
The maître d’ showed them to their table. Mary Ellen held onto William’s left arm. Making their way through the upscale restaurant, she noted half the tables were empty, yet attributed it to the fact it was a little early for supper.
When they arrived at their table the maître d’ pulled out a chair for Mary Ellen. After the pair was seated, he handed them each a menu—William’s with prices, hers without – and informed them their server would be there shortly to take their beverage order.
The server proved prompt, and it wasn’t long before beverages were served, food orders taken and menus removed.
“It’s been a wonderful afternoon, William. Thank you again,” Mary Ellen said as she removed her gloves and tucked them into her handbag.
“So I take it you liked the movie.” He already knew the answer. She’d expressed her delight at least a dozen times since the show ended. Mary Ellen laughed at his question.
“I can’t believe how well it followed the book. Yet I wonder how I would have liked it had I not read it first.”
“Funny you should say that, I wondered the same thing.”
“It makes me want to re-read it.”
“I often re-read books I love.”
“Well, it really isn’t an option for me. I don’t have the book. The one I read belonged to my brother, and I imagine it’s still with my parents.”
“I have it in my library. I’ll bring it over to you.”
“Thank you, William, I’d like that.”
“Have you read Burrough’s other books in the series?”
“No, the only one my brother had was the first.”
“I have them all; I’ll bring them to you.” William flashed Mary Ellen one his friendly smiles, his blue eyes twinkled.
He always makes me feel so safe—comfortable—as though I belong. I feel as if I could share anything with him—tell him any secret—and he would be there for me, never betray a confidence. I need to remember he is my husband’s best friend, not mine.
“William Hunter, well hello!” a female voice intruded. Mary Ellen looked up at the tall woman approaching their table. William stood just in time to receive a kiss on his right cheek from the woman.
“Hello, Clare,” William greeted, glancing around the dining room wondering which table was Clare’s party.
“Who is this?” Clare cooed. Mary Ellen couldn’t help but stare at the attractive blonde woman towering over her. The first thing she noticed was the woman’s short bobbed hair, which accentuated her large brown eyes. While Mary Ellen’s dress was new, it looked rather old fashioned compared to the stylish dress worn by the stranger. Mary Ellen noted the hem was several inches shorter than the dress she wore. In the woman’s right hand, she held a cigarette holder, which she waved about as she talked. The cigarette did not appear to be lit.
“Mary Ellen, I’d like you to meet an old friend, Clare Taylor. Clare, this is Mary Ellen…Mary Ellen Coulson, Randall’s wife.”
“Really?” A calmer, introspect persona replaced exuberant Clare. “My father told me Randall married, but I just assumed he was trying to make a point.”
Make a point? Mary Ellen wondered what that meant.
“Clare’s father is a business associate of ours,” William quickly explained.
“True. And my dear father would have loved to marry me off to your Randall—but of course Randall’s heart was already taken—just when did you meet?” Clare once again resumed her cheerful and exaggerated banter, yet now it seemed forced.
“I’ve known Randall for years,” Mary Ellen explained politely. While it was technically the truth, it was misleading.
“Really? And where is that scoundrel? I’d love to congratulate the groom.” Clare glanced around the dining room as if she expected Randall to suddenly appear, which was highly unlikely considering the pair were sitting at a table for two.
“Randall is in Chicago on business,” William explained.
“Oh, and he’s left you in charge of his lovely bride?” Clare flashed a fake smile at William then reached over and patted Mary Ellen’s hand, noting there was no wedding ring. “You’re in good hands dear. William Hunter has always been a perfect gentleman—and a loyal friend to dear Randall. Your husband was wise in his choice.
“But, I must really run, so nice seeing you both!” Clare gave them a little wave with her cigarette holder and then hastily made her way across the dining room to another section of the restaurant.
“That was strange,” Mary Ellen noted when Clare was no longer in sight.
“How so?” William thought it was uncomfortable, yet wondered what Mary Ellen was thinking.
“Well, for one thing she never gave me an opportunity for a proper greeting—such as—hello, nice to meet you.”
“I’m afraid Clare had some other things on her mind.”
“Like my husband. Did he court her?”
“How could you tell?”
“By her expression – and what she said about her father. I felt rather sorry for her. How recently did they stop seeing each other?”
William shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He did not want to answer.
“William?”
“I believe he stopped seeing her right before he left for Virginia the last time.”
“Oh, that poor thing,” Mary Ellen glanced in the direction where Clare had fled. By her expression, it was clear to William, Mary Ellen sincerely felt sorry for the other woman.
“You aren’t jealous, are you?” William asked.
“Why? I’m not in love with Randall. I don’t believe that’s a surprise to you.”
“But he is your husband.”
“True. But it’s obvious to me that poor woman had some real feelings for Randall. What happened? She’s quite lovely. Why would he walk away from someone who was clearly smitten with him?”
“I’ll answer that if you’ll answer a question for me.” William knew he should change the subject, but he couldn’t.
“What?”
“Why did you marry Randall?”
Mary Ellen considered the question before answering.
“I’m not sure—it’s a bit complicated.” Mary Ellen did not add that she regretted the marriage and had been considering asking Ran
dall for a divorce or annulment when he returned. She wasn’t sure what would happen to her parents and their new house, but she didn’t think she could continue with the marriage.
“That was an unfair question, I apologize.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ve asked myself the same question. I guess the only thing I can think of—I don’t recall a time I didn’t do what my father expected of me. When he told me about the marriage, I initially objected. But…well my mother has not been doing well, and a new house would really help the family. I suppose I felt it was inevitable. But then…”
“Then what?” William’s question was barely a whisper.
“Then…I see women like Clare. So different from the girls I grew up with. So different from my mother and aunt’s generation. At the theatre, there were a group of girls about my age. I don’t know if you noticed them. But they were laughing, having such a grand time. And I, for some reason, could not imagine them marrying a man of their father’s choosing—a man they barely knew.”
“I promise Mary Ellen, it will be better when Randall returns.” He reached across the table and patted her hand.
It was then Mary Ellen remembered he thought she was carrying Randall’s child. For a brief moment, she considered telling him the truth but decided against it. Instead, she smiled brightly, and forced a cheerful front. My husband should be the first to know, she told herself. And then I will seek to end the marriage—if only I knew how a woman went about doing that.
“Yes, I know, it will get better. I’m just being foolishly emotional. So tell me more about Clare.”
“Clare—well, like I said, her father is a business associate, and we belong to the same club. I do believe he had high hopes for his daughter marrying Randall. Of course Randall had other ideas.”
“But they were seeing each other? What happened?”
“Between you and me?” William refused to consider how inappropriate it was to share secrets with his best friend’s wife.
“Of course.”
“She cut her hair.”
“No, you are kidding? That is why he stopped seeing her?”
“Obviously it was no great love affair. Had it been, I doubt a shaved head would have fazed him. Clare likes to have a good time. I don’t think Randall wanted a wife that was so bold.”
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