Love of Finished Years

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Love of Finished Years Page 9

by Gregory Erich Phillips


  He handed a three-page document to Elsa. Rather than sitting back down, he stood by the side of his desk.

  “I received this yesterday from a client in Bremen. My work is in import/export law. I doubt you follow politics or economics, but I will tell you that over the past two years, trade between the United States and Germany has increased while also becoming tense. Germany is growing stronger in Europe, and some in this country do not think we should keep trading with them. There is even talk of war breaking out in Europe. Because of this, the German exporters need a good lawyer. I’m not German myself, but I fail to see the threat posed by German commerce. I understand some German, but not well enough for what my work has come to demand. That’s why I need you.”

  Through this speech, Elsa had been glancing over the brief. Now she looked up at Mr. Graham with a new and terrible fear. The document was written in German, yet she could hardly make any sense of it. Had she already come to know English that much better than her native language?

  “I am sorry sir, but there are words in this document I do not understand.”

  Rather than being upset, Mr. Graham smiled. “Don’t be worried. This brief, like all the documents you will translate for me, are full of legal terms that I wouldn’t have expected you to come across before.”

  He stepped to one of the bookshelves, brought down a heavy, leather-bound book and handed it to Elsa.

  “Here is a dictionary of German legal terms, along with their English and Latin equivalents. Once you know the basics, the conjugations and tenses will come naturally to you. Consider this office your own. Pens, paper and all the supplies you will need are in that cabinet.” He pointed. “Any time I’m not in here working, help yourself to any of these books. I trust you will learn quickly.”

  Elsa took the brief, the book, paper, pen and ink, and headed to her room to begin studying.

  She felt so relieved. Not only was her new master a kind man. He had also given her access to a wealth of new knowledge. She was excited to get started on the German brief.

  Back in her room, Elsa left her light on late, working through Mr. Graham’s brief and studying the legal dictionary. Not familiar with electric light, she wondered whether she ought to be careful not to leave the light on too long. At Andretti’s they had to pay in advance for their ration of gas to light the lamps. Did electricity work in a similar way?

  The task was tedious, but not as difficult as she expected. The dictionary gave clear examples for the words and concepts she saw in the legal brief. After two hours she was satisfied with her translation. She knew that the words and grammar were accurate. Mr. Graham could read it and see whether she had also gotten the concepts right. After her first interview with him, she felt he would be patient with her if there were things she still needed to learn.

  She turned off the light with a happy sigh, leaning back onto her soft bed. She couldn’t believe it had only been that morning when she took the train out of Manhattan in the rain. Her whole life and world had changed in one day.

  Elsa felt proud. Yes, she had been fortunate to land this position, but it was exactly what she had worked for all these years. So many people had told her she couldn’t, or shouldn’t. But she always believed she would. She had done it for herself, yes, but she also felt she did it for all the girls who would never find their way out of the sweatshops. She did it for her mother, who long ago prepared her to make her way without waiting for a man. She was a career woman now. It was a title she had earned and of which she could be proud.

  Chapter Nine

  Dafne Graham

  “Elsa, how quickly can you finish your work tonight?”

  Dafne had come charging into the kitchen, barefoot, her body wrapped in a robe and her hair a wet, tangled mess.

  Elsa smiled. “Well, I suppose your dinner will be over at eight, then maybe an hour to clean everything, unless your father gives me another translation.”

  “Nonsense. You’re coming to the dance with me.”

  Elsa started to say something, but Dafne cut her off. “No, no, no! You are not getting out of it.” She shook the wet mess on top of her head. “I’ll eat with you and Chris and Kat at six. Leave the rest for Mommy and Daddy. They can handle it themselves.”

  “But what about all the dishes? I have to clean up, too”

  “Do it tomorrow. Just toss everything in the sink.” Dafne was already walking out the kitchen door. “Don’t worry about a thing, I’ll clear it for you with Mommy.”

  Elsa stood alone in the kitchen as the door banged behind Dafne. She didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

  She really didn’t want to go to a party. Her new life in this house was all the stimulation she needed. If she was lax in her duties, she worried that it would no longer be as pleasant. But Dafne was obviously not going to be argued with on this matter. Dafne was one of her new masters, too, so Elsa was obliged to obey.

  She wished Dafne wouldn’t treat her so informally. Dafne seemed to have decided that Elsa was her equal. But Elsa believed that she was not Dafne’s equal. She had embraced her role in the serving class. This itself was a large step up from the labor class she had just left. Much as she was growing to love Dafne and welcome her friendship, she felt their class difference had to be maintained. She shouldn’t be shooting billiards with her and her friends, or going to dances with them.

  But since in this case she had no choice, Elsa began to look forward to the party just a little.

  Dafne’s plans came together perfectly, as Elsa should have known they would. While her parents were still eating their dinner, Chris drove Dafne and Elsa across town in the family automobile. Mrs. Graham had acquiesced in allowing her to take Elsa to the dance but wouldn’t go so far as to let Dafne drive the car herself.

  Elsa felt a rush of excitement. She had never been in an automobile before. She also felt good and even a little pretty in her new clothes.

  Chris had come back from town that morning and presented her with a box filled with several neatly folded white blouses and two dark skirts. It felt like Christmas or a birthday. At least that was what she imagined the holidays felt like; her family had always been too poor to exchange such extravagant gifts. Everything fit her perfectly. She asked Chris how he knew her sizes so well, but he said the credit all went to Dafne.

  She glanced across the seat toward Dafne. Her straight, blue satin dress was covered by a man’s tan overcoat. She had a fedora on her head.

  ”How do I look?” She grinned at Elsa.

  Elsa kept her mouth shut, at a loss how to answer. Dafne giggled.

  “I know, you think I look ridiculous, don’t you? You can tell me.”

  “It . . . is not a style I have seen before.”

  “It feels like it might rain. I should have worn my galoshes.”

  Now Elsa knew Dafne was trying to shock her. She burst out laughing, surprising herself. Dafne laughed too, as she clutched Elsa’s hand.

  ”I know you hate my style as much as my mother does. But aren’t my shoes pretty?”

  She leaned closer to Elsa and wiggled her feet in their blue, high-heeled shoes.

  ”Yes, they are lovely.” Elsa could certainly agree to that.

  ”Oh, darling, I’m going to simply love having you around!

  ”The drive across town to the grange was short. Chris gave Elsa a note with the Grahams’ phone number written on it, then drove away. They walked through the entrance, which opened onto a small lobby, then through another set of doors into a large, open space. Twelve round tables with chairs were set up on the closer half of the wood floor; the rest had been left open for dancing. An eight-piece ragtime band played from atop a stage set into the far wall. The coatroom sat just off the entryway, but Dafne marched into the ballroom still wearing her coat and hat. Most eyes turned toward her. Satisfied with her entrance, she hurled the masculine attire over Elsa’s arm. Elsa was not naïve about the fact that she was as big a part of Dafne’s strategized entrance as her shocki
ng outer garments.

  Elsa waited a moment for Dafne to locate her table and her friend Jeanette. She took her coat and hat back to the antechamber, wondering what else servants were supposed to do at a dance.

  Dafne sat down next to Jeanette and her brother, Glenn. She did not look directly at Will but could tell that he had noticed her entrance. Also sitting at their table was Mr. Harris, a middle-aged man who always came to these sorts of parties, even though he was one of the oldest ones there.

  “Isn’t my new servant cute?” Dafne bragged. It was grand to have one’s own maid!

  She began to tell Elsa’s story. The others at the table listened dutifully. But Jeanette, who had heard it all already, scowled at her. Dafne stopped talking, feeling embarrassed. She always wanted to be the life of the party, the center of conversation, but didn’t think she was very good at it. As the conversation turned to other people, she allowed herself a smile across the table at Will.

  She was skilled at understanding people’s motives. When people gave her attention unwillingly, she knew and it em­barrassed her. With Will Sweeney, she still wasn’t sure. That was how she knew she had a crush—her judgment was clouded.

  Will wasn’t the first boy she had liked, but this crush was the first that she thought might actually amount to something. After all, several girls her age already had boyfriends. It was time for her to have a boy. Her parents didn’t agree. They said she had to wait until after her debut before she dated. But Dafne had always been bold. Almost seventeen was plenty old enough.

  She couldn’t envision what the actual result of her intended involvement with Will would be. She wanted to kiss him, but what would happen after that? Would she be expected to marry him? She didn’t like him that much.

  ”Will, aren’t you going to the city next weekend to look at colleges?” Dafne asked, feeling so jealous. He was only a year older than her but that seemed like a lot.

  ”Yes,” said Will. “I hope I get into Columbia.”

  “That’s a good choice,” said Glenn Streppy.

  A tall brunette approached their table. Dafne immediately recognized Thelma Blaine in her scarlet gown.

  “Welcome home, Glenn,” she said warmly, bending over his seat to hug his shoulders before sitting in the empty chair next to him. Her full, dark hair was pulled on top of her head.

  “Miss Blaine, how you’ve changed,” said Glenn.

  “Two years can do a lot for a woman.”

  Dafne had to agree. Miss Blaine was only a couple of years older, but could have easily passed for a woman in her early twenties. She looked stunning. Dafne caught Will’s eye drifting toward the table’s new beauty. It also seemed that Thelma kept looking over at her. Dafne felt nervous. She chattered at Will, desperately trying to hold his attention.

  “Come and dance with me, Glenn,” Thelma said.

  The two rose and began the One Step to the music.

  With them gone, Dafne found it much easier to maintain Will’s attention, leaving Jeanette to reluctantly converse with Mr. Harris.

  The band was comprised of a piano, a trumpet, two clarinets, a trombone, a violin, a banjo, and a drum set. Dafne had not heard music this good in Lindenhurst in a long time. If only she could spend more time in New York!

  Jeanette became much more excited about the company of Mr. Harris when he pulled a flask of whiskey from his coat pocket. She held her cup of club soda under the table for him to spike. Dafne, observing the proceedings, bit her lip nervously, then grinned and slid her cup over as well.

  As she watched the dancers, Dafne’s mind wandered, first to New York City, where Will would be going next weekend, then to Boston. She should ask Glenn about his experiences at Harvard. Oh, to be out in the world, as these young men were! How long would she remain trapped in sleepy little Lindenhurst?

  Glenn and Thelma returned to the table. Although she participated in the conversation, Dafne’s mind was now elsewhere.

  She wanted so many things for her life but didn’t know best how to plan for them. She had one more year of school, after which she expected to carve out her place in society. Hopefully that place would be in the city, not out here on Long Island. She knew her parents’ expectations for her but didn’t worry about them much. Ultimately, as long as she chose a respectable man, her parents would be pleased. It wasn’t like her mother had been any less of a rebel in her youth.

  Her mother had been the toast of Richmond, Virginia, in her cotillion days. At the time of her debut she could have chosen from a dozen or more willing bachelors. But she shocked everyone by marrying John Graham, a law student at Columbia, and moving to New York. Her husband’s quick success had justified her brashness. Dafne knew her mother fancied herself to be a fully modern woman, taking on the suffragist cause with all her boundless energy. Despite all this, she expected the same traditional destiny for her daughter that had been expected of her. She eagerly anticipated Dafne’s debut next year, failing to see how drastically her daughter’s dreams and passions differed from her own.

  Dafne wished she were past it all—past school, and past the false pretense of a social debut. She had already been going to dances for over a year! Then she could go to New York and dine in the beautiful hotels on Madison Avenue. Although she didn’t want to marry for some time yet, she sensed that to fully enjoy the society life she desired, she would probably need a man.

  “Miss Graham, would you care to dance?”

  Her eyes jolted up and met Glenn’s. He had stood and now extended his hand. She smiled and took it. Although she had been waiting and hoping for Will to ask her, she needed to dance, and felt special in the way Glenn asked. Jeanette had said her brother was good at the new ragtime dances. She took his hand and stood up.

  Glenn, who had appeared shy and even slightly awkward at the table, was in his element on the dance floor, executing the steps with confidence. Dafne thoroughly enjoyed dancing with him.

  After the song ended, the bandleader paused. He put his hand to his forehead and looked out over the crowd of young people.

  “Where are your chaperones?” he asked loudly to hearty laughter. “Where are your parents? No chaperones? No parents?” he continued. “Well then, lads and lasses, I believe it’s time for the turkey trot contest!”

  The girls squealed with delight. Dafne hopped and clapped before turning eagerly toward Glenn. She was glad to be with the best dancer, but didn’t like seeing that Will and Thelma were dancing together.

  The one step may have been the most fashionable of the ragtime dances, but the turkey trot was the most notorious. It had recently been banned by the Vatican, as well as by most American Protestant organizations, which, predictably, had caused the dance’s popularity to soar.

  Dafne and Jeanette had practiced it together but had only been able to dance it in public two or three times. At most of the dances in Lindenhurst, some older attendee was sure to stop any turkey trotting. Tonight, they had no such problems. Glenn took Dafne in his arms and began to hop to the quick music.

  Of the twenty or so couples who participated in the turkey trot, Glenn and Dafne stood out dramatically from the rest. While most of them hopped awkwardly first on one leg, then on the other, Glenn glided through the motions. Dafne felt light as air, hardly noticing whether her feet touched the floor.

  They were the unanimous champions and stood with the bandleader while all the others applauded. He handed Glenn a silly tin trophy of a turkey mounted atop a small platform. Glenn laughed heartily. He handed the trophy to Dafne—who beamed with delight—then offered her his arm and led her back to their table.

  Back in the car, Dafne leaned her head on Elsa’s shoulder as Chris drove them home.”

  “Did you have fun?” Dafne asked her servant.

  “I did.” Elsa smiled. “I loved watching the dancing. Especially when you won the contest. That young man was very good.”

  “That was Jeanette’s brother from Harvard.”

  “He appeared to be quite
a gentleman.”

  Dafne giggled at Elsa’s description, but she was right. Glenn carried himself as a thorough gentleman, unlike some others at the local dance. Her mind had been so focused on Will that she’d failed to notice it.

  “You certainly seemed to have a lot of fun,” said Elsa.

  “Of course I did!”

  As soon as the words were out of Dafne’s mouth, she realized that there was no of course about it. She always looked forward to these dances, but didn’t always enjoy them. She felt self-conscious about how young she looked and about her limited knowledge of adult subjects.

  But tonight had been different. Will’s eyes had certainly been more for Thelma than for her. Yet instead of ending up crying alone in the powder room as she so often did at these dances, she enjoyed herself.

  Chapter Ten

  A Forbidden Adventure

  Dafne had hoped to see Glenn Streppy again but didn’t expect him to answer the door.

  “Oh, hello,” she said.

  “Hi.” He smiled. “Miss Graham. What a pleasure.”

  Dafne was pleased by his initial reaction at seeing her. Her mind immediately returned to the dance and how much fun she’d had dancing with him.

  “May I come in?”

  He quickly moved to the side of the door, looking embarrassed for having unconsciously blocked her entry.

  “Is Jeanette home?” She turned her head over her shoulder toward him as she entered. It was still fairly early on Saturday, a week after the dance at the grange.

  “I believe she’s bathing,” he said. “You’re welcome to sit down.”

  His manner seemed apologetic. She remembered how awkward he was at the party until he began to dance, but she found it endearing.

  He was a handsome man, despite the apparent lack of confidence. He stood slightly under average height but was still taller than Dafne. His dirty-blond hair had natural waves. His shirt and vest were comfortably filled out, but he was by no means overweight. Dafne thought he dressed well. It was no wonder—given that he’d lived near Boston for three years.

 

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