by Adele Whitby
“Where are Great-Aunt Kathy and Aunt Katie?” Aunt Beth asked, glancing around.
“They’re in New York,” Dad replied. “They’ll oversee the sale of the town house and finish packing up the last of our belongings there.”
Once again, I saw a pointed look pass between Aunt Beth and Betsy, but I didn’t understand what it meant.
“I suppose we should rest a bit before dinner,” Aunt Beth said, still looking at Betsy.
Does Betsy really want to rest? I wondered. I couldn’t wait for the chance to sneak away with her so we could talk privately, just the two of us. And I was dying to see the Elizabeth necklace! I decided to follow Aunt Beth and Betsy to the bedrooms, but before I could join them, I heard Mom call my name. I turned around to see her standing in the doorway to the kitchen, holding out my apron.
“Shall we start dinner?” she asked.
By the time Aunt Beth and Betsy emerged from their rooms, the table was set and dinner was ready to be served. Mom had planned a fancy meal to welcome our relatives. The small table was crowded with bowls of fresh rolls, green beans, buttered carrots, and mashed potatoes. There was even a platter of pot roast, a dish that Shannon had just recently taught us how to cook.
“Everything looks wonderful!” Betsy exclaimed. “I could smell it cooking in my room!”
I smiled at her, but inside I was mortified. In the tiny cottage, you really could smell kitchen odors in every room. Such a thing would never happen in Vandermeer Manor.
As soon as everyone was seated, Mom began to serve the food, piling each plate high. I shifted nervously in my seat. Mom and I hadn’t been cooking for very long—just a few months. What if dinner was an inedible disaster? Or even just passably good? I already knew that Aunt Beth and Betsy wouldn’t complain, even though they were used to eating all their meals prepared by a professional chef. But that only meant that their standards would be higher.
Luckily, I was worried for no reason.
“Mmm, delicious,” Betsy said after her first bite. “And you cooked it all yourself? Every dish?”
“We did indeed,” Mom said proudly.
“That’s astonishing,” Betsy marveled. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Would you, Mum?”
Aunt Beth shook her head. “I’m afraid I’ve never cooked a meal in my life,” she said. “That seems like a shameful thing to say, but it’s true.”
“Neither had I, a few months ago,” Mom replied.
“You’re all so clever,” Betsy continued. “Driving your own car, cooking your own food. It’s really something!”
“Yes,” I said awkwardly. Mom and Dad insisted there was no shame to living in reduced circumstances, but Betsy’s fuss embarrassed me all the same.
Aunt Beth dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “If I might change the topic of conversation,” she began, “I’d like to ask about Vandermeer Steel. Specifically, how can we help?”
There was a pause while Mom and Dad looked at each other across the table.
“Come, come,” Aunt Beth continued gently. “We’re all family. There must be no secrets between us. Betsy and I are here to do whatever we can to assist you.”
“That’s a generous offer, Beth, and we thank you wholeheartedly,” Dad finally said. “And if we could accept your generosity, we would. But I’m afraid that it’s not so simple.”
“I understand,” Aunt Beth replied, though she sounded like she didn’t understand at all. “Well, perhaps you might explain everything from the start, and then we can all put our heads together and see if we can’t find a way forward.”
“I’m sure you remember that when Father died, my brother, Alfie, inherited the company, and I inherited the estate,” Mom spoke up. “Alfie is . . . many things, but a shrewd businessman he is not.”
“He transferred a great deal of Vandermeer Steel’s capital to the stock market, thinking he could make a fast buck,” Dad explained. “But when the crash happened, all the money disappeared. It was gone in an instant.”
“How devastating,” murmured Aunt Beth.
Mom nodded sadly. “Then, as things got worse, Alfie began selling shares of Vandermeer Steel to foreign investors so that he would avoid destitution,” she continued. “I tell you, Beth, I miss Mother every day, but I’m very glad she did not live to see Alfie make such terrible decisions. And, of course, last year, Alfie ran off. We don’t know where he’s hiding, but Vandermeer Steel is in our hands now. We can be thankful for that, at least.”
“As a result of Alfie’s decisions, we’re no longer in control of Vandermeer Steel, but are beholden to these foreign investors until we can raise enough capital to buy back the shares,” Dad said. “Without a strong cash flow, we’ve had a devil of a time securing contracts for new construction. We’re the lame duck of the building industry.”
Aunt Beth’s face suddenly brightened. “What about that New Deal?” she suggested. “I thought I read that there were programs specifically designed to help struggling companies. If you had the capital to begin new construction, then you’d surely start to turn a profit again.”
Dad smiled ruefully. “Yes, you’re right about that,” he said. “The only problem is that Vandermeer Steel is not an American company at the moment. As long as foreign investors hold a majority share—”
“And I suppose I couldn’t just buy them out,” Aunt Beth mused, “since I’m not an American, either.”
“Exactly.”
For a long moment, no one spoke. At last, Aunt Beth said, “Well, this is a conundrum.”
“I have faith that we’ll turn things around for Vandermeer Steel in time,” Mom said, always looking on the bright side. “The more pressing problem is the debt to—”
“Kate,” Dad said suddenly. He looked pained. “Must we?”
“It’s all right, Joseph. Joe,” Aunt Beth said, quickly correcting herself. “You mustn’t be embarrassed.”
“We have a sizable payment due on a debt in four days,” Mom continued, giving Dad an apologetic look.
The same day as my birthday, I thought, but I didn’t say it.
“If we default on the payment, we’ll lose Vandermeer Manor,” Mom said.
“That mustn’t happen,” Aunt Beth said right away. “Here, at the very least, let me make the payment for you—”
“Really, that won’t be necessary,” Dad said firmly. I could see the gleam of pride shining in his eyes. “I have an important meeting in Providence with an old friend, Randall Roberts. He’s whip smart and not one to let a tremendous investment opportunity pass him by. I’m confident that I’ll be able to secure enough capital from Randall to make the payment on time.”
“And if not, we’ll find something else to sell,” added Mom. “The valuable jewelry is gone, of course, but there are still antiques in the manor house.”
Again, no one spoke, and I could tell that we were all thinking of the Katherine necklace. If I were completely honest, if I dug deep down into my secret-most heart, I could admit how sad I was that I’d never have the chance to wear it, or even see it again. But I’d never do that to Dad. He felt bad enough.
I glanced at Betsy, hoping to see her Elizabeth necklace. Two things surprised me right away: the fact that she still wasn’t wearing it and the look on her face. It was hard to describe, a mixture of urgency and importance, as though there was something serious she had to say. And she was staring at Aunt Beth, who—strangely enough—was shaking her head no at Betsy.
Is this all about the Katherine necklace? I thought. Maybe Betsy wasn’t wearing the Elizabeth necklace because she felt so bad for me. How could I tell her that I wouldn’t mind a bit if she wore her Elizabeth necklace? That I wanted to see her wearing it?
“Hopefully, it won’t come to that,” Aunt Beth said. “There are still four days, after all.” Then she smiled at me. “And I know something else important that happens in four days!”
“Have you made any special plans for your birthday?” Betsy asked.
“All that matters to me is that we have cake, and that Betsy and I finally learn the truth of the Chatswood family secret you have been promising to tell us,” I announced, making everyone laugh. “I already got my present—a visit from the best aunt and cousin a girl could hope for!”
“Our celebrations might not be fancy, but we’ll make a nice day of it,” Mom promised. “A picnic on the beach, perhaps? Or maybe we could drive into Providence and see a movie! How would you like that, Kay?”
“Go to the movies? All of us?” I said excitedly. It had been so long since I’d seen a movie—what a treat that would be! “I read in Hollywood Hello that Paul O. Brady’s new movie just premiered. His movies are some of my favorites!”
“All of us,” Dad echoed. Then he reached for my hand. “I’m so sorry about the Katherine necklace, sweetheart. I’ll never be able to apologize enough—”
“No, Dad. I’m glad it could be put to good use,” I interrupted him.
“And now that we’re here, you must put us to good use as well,” Aunt Beth said. “We’ve not come to be pampered and petted, but to work. We’ll clean, we’ll cook—we might be terrible dolts in the kitchen, but we’ll do our best. Whatever must be done, just say the word. Right, Betsy?”
“Right, Mum,” she replied, but that same troubled look had settled over her face.
And then, in an instant, I realized what the problem was. Cleaning, cooking . . . Betsy didn’t want to do those things—and why would she? I could hardly blame her. I knew what it was like to live in a house full of servants, whose entire existence revolved around meeting my every need. It was very different from how we were living now.
And she wanted no part of it.
I could tell I’d overslept as soon as I woke up the next morning; the sun was already shining brightly through the yellow-checked curtains. Betsy and I had stayed up so late the night before that Mom and Aunt Beth had come in three times to tell us to go to sleep, but we just couldn’t stop chatting and giggling. Mom and Aunt Beth weren’t really upset with us, though, since they were doing the same thing in the living room!
I rubbed my eyes sleepily as I glanced over at Betsy’s bed. Though it was empty, the sheets and blankets were all tangled up. Maybe Betsy didn’t want to wake me up by making her bed, I thought. But more likely, it had never even occurred to her to make the bed. I’d never made my own bed until a few months ago.
I’ll do it for her, I thought suddenly as I pushed back my blanket. That will make her feel like she’s back at Chatswood Manor.
As I smoothed Betsy’s sheets, I realized that I could hear a pair of voices through the wall. It was Aunt Beth and Betsy—and it sounded like they were arguing!
I froze, straining my ears to listen. But it was hard to make out what they were saying.
Very slowly, and without making a sound, I crept onto the bed and pressed my ear against the wall. It was easier to hear them now—a little easier, anyway.
“Mum, you don’t understand—something-something-something—I can’t stand—something-something!”
“What makes you think I don’t something-something—”
“It’s something-something awful to—”
“I agree, but you know we can’t—something-something—until her birthday. And not a moment before.”
“It’s not fair!”
I turned away from the wall, feeling sick and ashamed—and not just because I’d been eavesdropping, something Mom and Dad had always taught me not to do. Was Betsy really so miserable in our little cottage that she couldn’t stand it here? Was Aunt Beth forcing her to stay until my birthday so that my feelings wouldn’t be hurt?
If that’s the case, they should just go, I thought numbly. There’s no reason for them to suffer just for me.
I continued making Betsy’s bed, lost in my thoughts, until the door creaked open.
“Oh, good! You’re awake,” Betsy said in a surprisingly chipper voice. “Aunt Kate told me to fetch you for breakfast. What are you doing?”
I turned away to give the pillow one last fluff—and also to avoid looking at her. “I was just making your bed.”
“You goose! You don’t have to do that!” Betsy scolded me, laughing. “Tomorrow you must show me how to do it, all right? Then I’ll be able to make it myself.”
“If you want,” I said, trying to sound normal. But even I could tell that my voice was strained.
After I got dressed, Betsy and I went to the dining room, where Mom had placed a platter of waffles on the table beside a pitcher of fresh-squeezed orange juice. She really was doing everything she could to give Aunt Beth and Betsy a nice visit. I hoped that somehow, some way, Betsy would realize that. It would break Mom’s heart to know how much Betsy wanted to leave.
We were nearly finished with breakfast when Aunt Beth suddenly clapped her hands together. “Now, in all our discussions last night, we failed to talk about something very important,” she announced. “Kay and Betsy’s birthday ball!”
I gasped in surprise. Mom hesitantly put down her cup of coffee. “Now, Beth, I know you phoned before you left England and said you wanted to pay for a joint birthday ball for both girls, but I’m not sure. We can’t help with the cost and—”
Aunt Beth cut my mom off. “I am well aware of that and it’s my decision. If we start planning now and send invitations to our friends and relations overseas by the end of the week, we could have the ball next month.”
Despite herself, Mom’s face brightened. “Beth, you are too generous, and I’m afraid I’m simply too excited by the prospect of a birthday ball to argue with you.”
Aunt Beth clapped in delight. “Wonderful. Then it’s settled. I will deal with invitations and all other details, but tell me, have you spoken to your dressmaker about new gowns?”
“I’m afraid we don’t employ a dressmaker anymore,” Mom admitted as her smile faded. “I don’t need a new dress, and—”
“Of course you do,” Aunt Beth said firmly. “You mustn’t worry about the expense, Kate. This is a gift from me to you.”
“I have a lovely gown from before the Depression that will be fine,” Mom replied. “And Shannon has offered to help me add new trim so that it won’t look out of fashion. I want Kay to have a birthday gown, though. It seems only right.”
“No,” I spoke up, shaking my head. “No, Mom. I don’t need one.” A birthday ball gown that I’d wear only once was way too frivolous an expense, even if Aunt Beth had offered to pay for it.
But my words only made Mom’s frown deepen. “Kay, you should have a new dress,” she said in a quiet voice. “It’s important to me.”
There was an uncomfortable silence around the table as I tried to figure out what to say. If it meant so much to Mom—and if it was a gift from Aunt Beth—I should probably just give in. But even as I tried to convince myself to have a new dress made, a small voice in my mind repeated, too expensive, too expensive, too expensive.
“What about a ready-made gown?” Betsy spoke up.
Everyone turned to look at her.
“When we went to London just before my birthday, we saw ever so many charming gowns in the shops,” she continued. “They were all the latest fashion, too. And I don’t think they’re quite so expensive as a custom gown from a dressmaker.”
“No, Betsy, they aren’t,” Mom said, smiling again. “That’s a fantastic idea! What do you think, Kay? Would you like to go to shopping in Providence for a birthday dress?”
“Sure.” I finally gave in. “But only if we can all go.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Aunt Beth replied.
“I’m off to Providence tomorrow for my meeting with Randall. We can drive in together.” Dad took one last sip of his coffee before he rose from the table. “I’ll be home at the usual time today,” he said as he kissed Mom’s cheek.
“Dinner will be waiting,” she told him. Then Mom turned to me. “Kay, would you like to show Betsy around the grounds? She might enjoy seeing
the gardens and the cliffs.”
“Will we go to the sea?” Betsy asked excitedly. “I’ve brought my bathing costume.”
I glanced out the window at the gray clouds that had appeared while we were eating. “It looks like it might rain, so we’d better stay close to home,” I said. “But we’ll go to the beach another day, Betsy. Promise.”
After we cleared the breakfast dishes from the table, Betsy and I got our umbrellas and went outside.
“Where should we go first?” I said. “There’s the rose garden, and the shade garden, and—”
“Might we start at the cliffs?” Betsy asked. “They sound so magnificent.”
“Sure,” I replied. “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
“No,” Betsy said, but she didn’t look convinced. “At least, I don’t think so.”
“It’s okay. There’s a railing so you won’t fall over the edge,” I told her.
As we walked through the meadow toward the cliffs, Betsy linked her arm through mine. “I feel like I should pinch myself, Kay!” she exclaimed. “It’s hard to believe that this is real.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” I told her. “I’ve been daydreaming about meeting you for my entire life—and now you’re finally here!”
“Can you believe my mum made this same trip to meet your mum, twenty years ago?” Betsy asked. “No wonder she wanted to hide when my grandparents insisted that she come home early. I’d try to hide, too, if something happened to cut my visit short.”
Would you? I wondered. But all I said was, “Here we are.”
For a moment, Betsy was speechless. “Oh, Kay,” she whispered. “It’s stunning.”
I looked toward the ocean, where the wild sea churned. The clouds were moving quickly toward us, and the wind was starting to pick up. Mom and Dad had always warned me that the cliffs were no place to visit during a storm. Not only were the rocky trails slippery when it rained, but the high winds made the narrow path even more dangerous.
“We should get back,” I said. “I think it’s going to rain soon.”
“I hate to leave,” Betsy said, still staring at the white-capped waves. “This is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been.”