CHAPTER FIVE
The Best-Laid Plans
A few days later Robert came early one evening to take Sharon out to a performance at the Metropolitan Opera, but as soon as they were sitting in the backseat of the Winslow limousine, he reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a small velvet-covered box and handed it to her. He put his arm around her and urged, “Go ahead. Open it.”
Sharon looked up, her eyes dancing. “What is it, Robert?”
“You’re a smarter girl than that. Open it.”
Opening it gently, she took one look and exclaimed, “An engagement ring! Oh, Robert, it’s beautiful!” She took it out and held it up close to examine it. It was a gold love knot with a sparkling diamond set in the middle. “I’ve never seen anything so lovely.”
“I know you’ve seen larger diamonds, but I hope you like it.”
Sharon slipped the ring onto her finger and turned her face up for his kiss, feeling secure as his arm went around her. “It’s so unusual.”
“I like the love knot—it has no beginning and no end. That’s what our love is going to be like, sweetheart—without any end.”
Franklin had been sitting quietly throughout this exchange, but now he cleared his throat and spoke up. “Shall we get started for the opera?”
“Oh yes, drive on, Franklin,” she said, but her attention was on the ring. She had never felt happier in her life as her head spun with plans for her upcoming nuptials and the marital bliss that was to follow.
While the car moved along, Sharon reached into her reticule and pulled out a small box of her own, mischief dancing in her eyes. “And here is something for you,” she said. Opening the box, she took out a ring. “I hope you like it.”
“Why, I didn’t expect this!” Robert exclaimed. He held the ring up to the light and said, “There’s something inscribed, but I can’t read it in this light.”
“It’s got the date of our engagement and our initials. Here, let me put it on.” He held out his left hand, and she put it on the third finger. “A perfect fit.”
“How did you know what size I wore?”
“Women know things like that,” Sharon said mysteriously. “How did you know what size I wore?”
“That’s easy. I just asked your mother to get me one of your rings, and I took it with me to the jeweler’s.”
“You are a sly one!”
Robert sat back with a smile, his arm around Sharon, listening as she rattled on. She was so excited she could not seem to speak fast enough, and he was amused by it all.
When they reached the opera house and made their way inside, quietly taking their seats, Sharon was still whispering, “And I’ve got to have a trousseau.”
“You mean a wedding dress?”
“Of course I’ll need a wedding dress, but a trousseau is different. I’ll need a wardrobe of new gowns, at least a year’s supply of—” she hesitated—“delicate undergarments all trimmed with tucks and laces and embroidery, and an assortment of household linens.”
The performance began, and Robert put aside thoughts of the wedding that lay ahead, but Sharon found it hard to concentrate. She could not suppress the well of joy that was rising in her, and she felt certain that her feelings were much stronger than what most brides experienced.
As they left the opera and got back into the car, Sharon said, “I think you can sing much better than that tenor.”
“You wouldn’t get many people to agree with you. He’s considered one of the best.”
“You’re better,” she said firmly. “And one of these days you’ll be singing at the Met.”
Robert laughed and shook his head. “It’s great that you have such a good opinion of me. I hope you convert all the other music lovers in the world.” He turned to look at her and said, “I’ve got another surprise for you.”
“Another ring?”
“No, not until we stand before the minister and change your name to mine. My parents are coming to New York City.”
“Oh, how nice! When will they be here?”
“Day after tomorrow. Dad says he’s thinking about opening up some new dry cleaning establishments here. But that’s just a pretense. I think they’re really coming just because they want to meet you.”
“Do you think they’ll like me?”
“Like you! I’m positive they’ll love you! Who could help that?”
****
Sharon made arrangements with her mother to invite Robert’s parents over as soon as they arrived in New York City. They sent Franklin to pick them up at their hotel and bring them to the Winslow mansion for tea on Sunday afternoon followed by dinner that evening.
Maurice and Clara Tyson were attractive people in their early forties. Maurice was a tall, well-built man with blond hair and a neat mustache. Clara was a small woman with a wealth of brown hair and warm brown eyes, and she was more stylishly dressed than any of the Winslows had expected.
As they sat drinking their tea, they did not seem at all overwhelmed by the splendor of the Winslow mansion. Leland and Lucille were a bit surprised, for while their home was not as elaborate as the Vanderbilt mansions, it was ornate enough to cause most visitors to be somewhat awed.
“Lovely home you have here, Mr. Winslow,” Maurice said, perusing the parlor. “Did you build it yourself?”
“Oh no. It’s a much older place. But my wife decorated it.”
“You did all of this!” Clara exclaimed as she also admired the room. It was a magnificent parlor—large and airy, filled with the late-afternoon sunlight from the four windows extending down to the floor along the two outside walls. Curtains of gold satin were held back with dark blue braided cord, and the walls were covered in a dark blue paper with gold outlines of birds and leaves scattered throughout. Paintings in gilded wooden frames filled the walls, and the furniture was upholstered with blue-and-gold-striped damask. A grand piano filled one corner, and two red high-back chairs flanked the stone fireplace. The carpet was a deep burgundy outlined in dark blue, and the mahogany tables and buffets were filled with fine porcelain and china figurines.
“I could never do such a beautiful decorating job.”
“You’re very generous to say that. It did take a long time,” Lucille said.
Lucille had put herself out to make the Tysons’ visit as pleasant as possible for Sharon’s sake. And, in truth, she was pleased to discover that the Tysons were very pleasant people. They were both well-dressed in the latest fashions, and they were able to hold up their end of an intelligent conversation.
Both sets of parents insisted that Robert and Sharon sing for them, so they spent the rest of the afternoon listening to a private concert, with Robert accompanying on the piano.
After tea Leland and Lucille took the group on a walking tour of the grounds while it was still light out. Maurice and Clara were gracious guests, exclaiming over the beautiful grounds and asking questions about the young plants that were emerging from the ground. Robert and Sharon hung back from their parents when they could politely do so, exchanging happy glances and whispers of love.
The Winslows’ cook, May Bettington, exceeded all their expectations with the evening meal. The first course was lobster bisque, followed by garlic-roasted squab, twice-baked potatoes, baby peas with pearl onions, fresh-baked croissants, spinach salad with hot bacon dressing, and for dessert, a strawberry cake with fluffy white frosting. Neither Robert nor Sharon said much during dinner while Leland and Maurice discussed the nation’s economic problems and the war in Europe.
“It can’t go on like this!” Leland exclaimed as he shook his head over the increasing attacks on allied ships by the German U-boats. “Wilson has kept us out of the war for a long time, but he’s not going to be able to do so much longer.” He took a sip of his coffee. “They said when the war began that it would be a quick one, but now the troops are settled down to trench warfare. They lose fifty thousand men just to gain twenty yards of ground and then lose it back the next day. Not like any
war that’s ever been fought.”
Lucille jumped in to change the subject to more pleasant topics—namely the wedding plans—and the spirits of the group rose as they all thought of happier times in the future. When it was time for the Tysons to leave, Maurice and Clara made a point of saying, “We’re very happy about the wedding, and now that we’ve met you, Sharon, we’re more excited than ever.”
Sharon beamed at this but noticed that her own parents made no complimentary remark about Robert, and this gave her pain. They’ll get over their old-fashioned attitudes, she thought. When we’re married, they’ll see what a fine man he is.
After the Tysons had left, Sharon asked her parents, “What did you think of them?” She waited hopefully for a good response, but when her mother spoke, it was not with much enthusiasm.
“They’re very nice, dear.”
“Yes, they are,” Leland agreed. “And Mr. Tyson seems to be a level-headed fellow. I’m a bit surprised, though, that he’s so enthusiastic about Robert going into this opera business.”
“That surprised me too,” Lucille said. “He did say that he had planned for Robert to go into the dry cleaning business with him, but his older brother is doing so instead.”
“Well, one good thing about it. If this singing thing doesn’t work out, he can always go back into business with his father. He’ll be young enough to learn how the real world is.”
Sharon felt a twinge of disappointment over her parents’ reaction, yet it was not unexpected. Anyone less than an Astor or a Vanderbilt or a Morgan would not have found favor with her parents. She was grieved that her choice of a husband was not to their liking, but there was nothing to be done about it. She excused herself early that evening and wrote in her journal just before retiring:
I liked Robert’s parents so very much. They’re kind people and far nicer than so many I have met. I think about Hannah’s in-laws—horrible people that make life miserable for her. I just know the Tysons will always be supportive. Mrs. Tyson didn’t intrude at all about the details of the wedding, and I know we’ll be good friends after Robert and I are married.
Thoughts of Robert brought her such joy that even her parents’ disapproval could not dampen her spirits for long. She climbed into bed and fell peacefully asleep, believing that she was indeed the happiest woman in the world.
****
Robert left for Boston shortly after his parents’ visit to begin rehearsals for Carmen. Sharon could hardly bear the thought of not seeing him again until their wedding day on June 2. She and her mother were sitting in the parlor the following Friday afternoon working on wedding plans when Leland entered the room, his face lined with concern.
“What is it, dear?” Lucille asked.
“President Wilson has declared war on Germany.”
“Oh, dear, that is terrible!” Lucille cried. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“I guess we’ve all known it was coming for some time, and here it is. I just heard the radio broadcast of his speech. It received a tremendous ovation, and it was reported shortly afterward that one of the president’s close friends heard him say, ‘My message was one of death for young men. How odd it seems to applaud that.’ And then he said the president put his head in his hands and wept.”
Sharon had tried not to dwell on the thought that Robert might have to go fight in the war in Europe, but now that possibility was suddenly very real. She listened in fear as her father spoke of the actions of Congress now that a state of war existed. “Everything is going forward full speed. Everyone seems to think they’ll choose General John Pershing as commander of the American troops.”
Sharon could not keep from expressing what was on her heart. “I pray that Robert won’t have to go.”
Leland turned to look at her, his eyes troubled. “I expect mothers and wives and sweethearts are praying that all over this country, but many will have to go. Has Robert said anything about volunteering?”
“No, not a word. He’s been so busy with the opera.”
“A great many lives are going to be interrupted.” Leland shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid this may not be an entirely volunteer army.”
“What do you mean, dear?” Lucille asked.
“I think there’ll be a conscription act passed.”
“What will that mean?”
“It means men who haven’t volunteered will have to serve. It happened in the Civil War. Both the North and the South had to conscript men when volunteers weren’t enough.”
“This will change your plans, I’m afraid, Sharon,” Lucille said. “About the wedding, I mean.”
“Not at all!” Sharon shot back. “We’ll go right ahead with them.” She saw a flicker in her father’s eyes and knew that he was doubtful, but he said nothing.
****
An uneasy month passed as Sharon continued making her wedding plans while listening anxiously each day to the war news. She and Robert talked often by phone. The opera was going well, and the Boston critics were hailing Robert as a rising young star in the opera world.
On May 18 the president signed into law a bill requiring all American men between the ages of twenty-one and thirty-one to register for possible service in the United States armed forces. The Selective Draft Act was designed to mobilize an army of five hundred thousand men for service in the war against Germany. Some people estimated that approximately ten million men would be subject to registration. Their names were placed in jury wheels from which five hundred thousand recruits would be drawn.
In their phone conversation that day, Robert said very little to Sharon about the war except to mention that he had decided not to volunteer. He added, “Of course, when they draw the names, mine might be one of them.”
“Surely not,” she said. “It couldn’t happen now. Not when your career is just taking off so wonderfully.”
“I don’t think that has anything to do with it,” Robert said ruefully. “We can’t win the war in Germany by singing in an opera.”
When Sharon remained silent on the line, he asked, “Would you like to postpone the wedding indefinitely until this thing is settled?”
“No,” she said firmly. “We can’t do that.”
“It’ll be your choice, of course, Sharon. If I did have to go, you’d be the one who would have to remain alone.”
But Sharon had made up her mind. Her mother and father had given broad hints that it might be wise to postpone the June wedding, but she steadfastly refused.
****
The next two weeks sped by for Sharon. The wedding dress had been made, and the arrangements were all complete. They would be married at Calvary Baptist Church on West Fifty-Seventh at ten o’clock on Saturday, June 2, 1917.
Sharon was just finishing reviewing her schedule for the busy activities that would precede the wedding when Lorraine came in to say, “Mr. Robert is here.”
“Oh,” she cried, “I’ll be right down, Lorraine. Thank you.”
She raced down the stairs and found Robert waiting in the foyer. She threw herself into his arms and cried, “Oh, darling, I didn’t expect you so soon!”
They kissed and he held her close, breathing in the fresh scent of her hair and perfume. “I took an early train to get here as soon as I could. We have to talk, Sharon.”
Something in his voice and manner troubled Sharon, and her heart raced as she peered into his eyes. “Come into the parlor,” she said. “There’s nobody there.” As soon as they had entered the room and shut the door, she asked breathlessly, “What is it?”
“I’ve got bad news, I’m afraid. I’m being conscripted.”
Sharon stood perfectly still. The fear she had been dreading flooded over her, black and terrible. She reached out her hand, and Robert took it. “Oh no, it can’t be!”
“Yes, I’m afraid it is.”
Sharon melted into his arms and began to cry.
“There’s no easy way to tell you a thing like this,” he said, gently wiping away her tear
s.
She rested her head on his chest, everything in her rebelling against the news. She found herself wanting to scream or strike someone, but who was there to strike? She straightened up and said with dry lips, “When . . . when do you have to go?”
“I have to leave in two weeks.”
“That gives us so little time.”
“Sharon, I think you know how much I love you, but I’m troubled by all this. I want you to make the decision.”
She looked into his face, unable to understand his words or his expression. His features were tense, but there was a tenderness about his mouth as he spoke . . . as though he were trying to shield her from something.
“What do you mean, Robert?”
“I mean it might be best if we called off the wedding.”
“Call off the wedding! Surely you can’t mean that!”
“I think you need to pray about this and think it through and talk to your parents.”
Instinctively Sharon knew what her parents would say, but she could not believe that Robert agreed with them. “But we love each other.”
“Of course we do, but we’ll have so little time together. And then I may be away for years, and . . .” He hesitated to say what was on his mind. “Sharon, we may as well face the truth. I might come back maimed . . . or I might not come back at all.”
“No, don’t talk like that!” she cried.
“It’s the reality of war, my darling.”
“Do you want to call off the wedding?” she whimpered.
“I would marry you this day, but it’s different for me. If we become man and wife, you might have a child. And if I left after just a few days, you might have to raise that child alone. I would not want that for you. I know these are hard things to face, but this is a difficult world we’re living in.”
Sharon felt as if she were going to faint. She looked up at him and said, “I do want to marry you, Robert.”
The Silent Harp Page 6