by Adele Whitby
“We’ll come back,” I promised her. “On a fine, sunny day, when the wind isn’t so strong.”
“All right,” Betsy finally agreed. But as we turned to leave, something caught her eye. “Kay, isn’t that Clara?”
I glanced over and saw Shannon’s daughter sitting on a bench. “What’s she doing here?” I said in surprise.
“Let’s go find out,” Betsy said, a note of determination in her voice.
We hurried toward the bench. “Clara!” I called. “Clara! A storm’s coming. Shouldn’t we—”
Clara scrambled to her feet and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. But there was no hiding the fact that she’d been crying.
“What’s wrong?” I asked in concern.
Clara waved her hand in the air, as if her problems were no more bothersome than a pesky fly. “Oh, it’s nothing I should trouble you with, Miss Kay,” she replied. Then she glanced at the horizon. “I believe you’re right about that storm, though. We should go back.”
“Walk with us,” I said. Clara smiled a bit as she fell into step between Betsy and me, but I could tell that something was troubling her.
“Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” I asked Clara. “I’d like to help if I can. And so would Betsy, I’m sure.”
“Of course I would!” my cousin said.
“It’s a silly thing to be upset about,” Clara said, looking a bit embarrassed, “but . . . the thing is . . . I’ve been offered a job.”
“A job!” I repeated. “Well, that’s—I mean—well! That’s really something!” I couldn’t imagine why Clara was upset at such a prospect, so I didn’t want to say something that might upset her more.
“Congratulations!” Betsy said enthusiastically. “What sort of work is it?”
Clara tried to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it. “Mrs. Morgan has requested my services as a lady’s maid,” she said. “The letter came in the morning mail, and Mom and I’ve been arguing ever since it arrived.”
“Don’t the Morgans live in Boston?” I asked.
“Yes,” Clara replied.
“And you don’t want to go?” Betsy asked gently.
Clara shook her head. “It’s good work,” she said, as if she were trying to convince herself. “Respectable. And Mrs. Morgan is a kind woman. But—this sounds so foolish I’m ashamed to say it—I don’t want to be a lady’s maid!”
“Clara’s a great one for arithmetic,” I told Betsy. “She can do all sorts of figures in her head. Dad used to call her the Human Abacus when she was little.”
“Mr. Wilson promised me a job in the accounting office when times are better,” Clara continued sadly. “I had an apprenticeship there last summer and it was wonderful! I’d much rather work for Vandermeer Steel than Mrs. Morgan.”
“I know Dad will keep his promise,” I said.
“I’m sure he will,” Clara replied. “But Mom’s insisting that I take the job with Mrs. Morgan! She says a real job today is better than the hope of a job tomorrow. Plus, she says it’s time for me to do my part . . . and I suppose she’s right. I’m old enough to have a job and send money home, just like she did when she went to work at Chatswood Manor.”
I bit my lip as I tried to figure out how to respond. Everything that Shannon had said about the situation made sense, but it seemed so unfair for Clara to take a job she didn’t want! Not to mention that the thought of her moving away made me feel like I was about to cry. I could hardly imagine life at Vandermeer Manor without Clara.
“Poor Clara,” Betsy said sympathetically. “It’s so dreadful to disagree with your mother. Mum and I had a really awful time of it this spring and it made me miserable.”
Clara looked at her with gratitude. “That’s exactly it!” she exclaimed as her eyes welled up with tears again. “Mom’s always been my greatest ally—about everything, really. But now . . . I can’t imagine that we’ll ever see eye to eye on this. It feels like she wants to send me away!”
“No,” I said firmly. “I know that’s not the case, Clara. Shannon loves you more than anyone.”
“Then why won’t she listen to me?” Clara said. “I don’t want to go!”
“And I don’t want you to,” I replied.
“It’s tricky, isn’t it?” Betsy said thoughtfully. “There’s such a fine line between following your heart and fulfilling your duty to your family.”
“Great-Great-Grandmother Katherine came to America for love and duty,” I said. “But I bet even she was scared to leave Chatswood Manor.”
“And just look at all she built here,” Betsy added, gesturing to the beautiful manor house before us. “A dynasty of her very own!”
No one spoke, but I was sure we were all thinking the same thing: a dynasty slipping away from us more and more every day.
“That’s a good way to look at it,” Clara finally said. “We never know what kind of opportunity waits just around the corner.”
“When do you have to decide?” I asked.
“Mrs. Morgan would like me to start next week,” Clara told me.
“Next week!” Betsy exclaimed in surprise. Then she caught herself. “I mean, anything could happen between now and then. Don’t give up hope, Clara!”
At last, Clara smiled. “Thank you, Lady Betsy. You’ve said just what I needed to hear.” Then she leaned over to hug me. “I’m so grateful, Kay. Thanks for listening.”
“I’ll talk to Mom and Dad,” I told her. “If there’s anything we can do—”
But Clara shook her head. “No. Please don’t bother them with my little problem,” she replied. “I know Mr. Wilson would make good on his promise if he could.”
A rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, so we quickly parted ways—Clara hurrying in one direction to the cottage where she lived and Betsy and I hurrying in the other.
Betsy stopped abruptly. “There’s something I forgot to tell Clara,” she said. “I’ll be right back, Kay.”
“I’ll come with you,” I offered.
“No, no, I’ll just be a minute,” Betsy told me. Then she was off like a flash.
I watched Betsy run after Clara, who was nearly halfway home. Clara leaned her head close to Betsy while Betsy whispered something in her ear. Then an enormous grin filled Clara’s face.
What are they talking about? I wondered. So many different emotions swirled in me that I didn’t know what to do with them all. It had never occurred to me before that Clara might leave us. Knowing just how smart she was, Dad had always said that there would be a place for her at Vandermeer Steel.
But a lot had changed since then—and the future was more uncertain than ever before. Not just for the family business and our home, but for me, too, I realized. Because if things didn’t turn around—if Dad wasn’t able to pay off his debts and regain control of Vandermeer Steel—I’d be in Clara’s situation before too long. What sort of jobs would be available to someone like me?
Just then, there was an enormous clap of thunder that seemed to shake the cliffs, and the rain began pouring down. My hair and dress were drenched before I could even open my umbrella.
“Betsy!” I called through the storm. “Hurry!”
She held up one finger as she finished saying something to Clara. Then Betsy dashed toward me through the pelting rain.
“I’m soaking wet!” Betsy shrieked gleefully.
“What were you and Clara talking about?” I asked as we ran home.
Betsy shook her head. “Very sorry, Kay, but I can’t tell you,” she replied. “I’m sworn to secrecy.”
“Sworn to secrecy?” I repeated, surprised. Betsy and Clara had just met, and already they were friendly enough to have secrets? Secrets from me?
“My lips are zipped,” Betsy said solemnly. Then she started giggling. “Isn’t that a funny phrase? I’d never heard it before Clara said it! She’s great fun, isn’t she? I can already tell that Clara and I will be fast friends. Maybe she can come over tonight after dinner!”
“Maybe,�
� I echoed as I tried to figure out why I felt a pang of jealousy. A friendship between two of my favorite people in the whole world was a good thing—something that should make me happy.
So why did I suddenly feel so sad?
The next morning, everyone was in a giddy mood as we drove to Providence. Dad was so optimistic about his business meeting that he even whistled on the way!
“I’ll be back to pick you up at two o’clock,” Dad said when he dropped us off in front of Gladding’s Department Store. “Be ready to celebrate!”
“Give my regards to Randall. I know you’ll do wonderfully,” Mom told him, and they shared one of their special smiles that they saved only for each other. It always made me happy to see them smile like that.
“My! What an enormous shop!” Aunt Beth marveled.
“It’s actually three stores,” I corrected her. “This is Gladding’s, and that’s Shepard’s over there, and that one is called Cherry and Webb. See the covered bridge up there? That’s so you can shop at all three stores in poor weather without getting wet.”
“Outside of New York, you won’t find a better place to shop on the Eastern Seaboard,” Mom said. “Let’s go straight to the fourth floor—that’s where we’ll find formal gowns for Kay.”
“And then you can lead us to wherever we might find formal gowns for you,” Aunt Beth said. “Because we’re not leaving here until you’ve picked out a dress. Isn’t that right, Kay?”
“Right!” I said, grinning. I’d never heard anybody tell Mom what to do before.
“What sort of dress do you want?” Betsy asked me as we stepped into the elevator. “Have you thought much about the color or style?”
“Not really,” I said slowly. “I always thought my dress would be red, to match the Katherine necklace. But I suppose that doesn’t matter now.”
“Oh, no, Kay, you should still wear red!” Betsy said right away. “It’s . . . That’s a Vandermeer tradition, isn’t it?”
“I suppose. But green is awfully flattering on me.”
“No. We’ll look for a red dress for you,” Betsy said firmly. “Like Mum always says, tradition is important.”
“My mom says that too!” I said as I burst out laughing.
“Fourth floor,” the elevator operator announced. “Good day, ladies.”
We stepped off the elevator into an elegant world of shiny satin, stiff taffeta, and lustrous silk. Every gown seemed more glamorous than the one before, the sort of things that movie stars would wear to a Hollywood premiere.
“Oh, gracious!” I exclaimed. “How will I ever choose?”
“That’s what we’re here for,” Betsy told me. Then she pulled me into the sea of dresses. “Come on, Kay! Let’s find the prettiest dress in the shop!”
I couldn’t begin to count how many dresses I tried on that day. They were all lovely—some were stunning, even—but each one had some small flaw that was hard to overlook. One was too short, another too long; one too tight in the waist and another too loose. As soon as we decided against one dress, Betsy would dash off in search of another to take its place.
“We really should’ve brought Shannon or Nellie,” Mom said, shaking her head. “They’d have a better idea about which alterations we could easily make on our own.”
“There must be a seamstress employed here,” Aunt Beth said, glancing around. “Where’s the shopgirl? I’ll ask.”
“No, Beth, we shouldn’t spend—”
“Nonsense,” Aunt Beth said. “Whatever it takes to fit Kay with a dress that makes her feel like a princess.”
“We just haven’t found it yet,” Betsy said to me, trying to sound reassuring even though she looked as disappointed as I felt. “Let’s keep looking.”
By that point, we’d circled the dress department three different times. “This one fits the best,” I said, holding out a simple maroon dress. “It’s just a little too long. And I’m sure Shannon can help me hem it.”
Betsy shook her head. “It’s so plain, though,” she replied. “Hardly any trim at all! I still think we can find you a prettier gown, Kay. I’ll be right back.”
“What do you think, Mom?” I asked. “Is it too plain?”
She gave me a lopsided kind of smile. “No, sweetheart, not at all,” she said. “A girl as beautiful as you doesn’t need embellishments on a dress to make her shine.”
I blushed happily at the compliment.
“Kay!” Betsy said, all out of breath as she ran up to me. She thrust a cherry-red gown in my direction. “I’ve found it. I’ve found it! I’ve found your dress!”
“Where’d you spot this?” I asked.
“It was buried back there,” she replied. “I think it’s the only one left in that color. Oh, do try it on, Kay! You’re going to look so gorgeous!”
As I ducked back into the fitting room, I tried not to get my hopes up. Other dresses had seemed perfect, too—until I tried them on. Then they just left me disappointed.
But that didn’t happen this time.
The satin dress had a scalloped skirt that looked like it was made of rose petals, with fluttery sleeves trimmed with lace. My favorite part was the hundreds of tiny seed pearls sewn on the bodice in an intricate swirl. And best of all, the dress fit as though it had been made just for me!
I stepped out of the fitting room, where Mom, Betsy, and Aunt Beth were waiting for me. Then I did a little twirl.
“Oh, Kay,” Mom said in a soft voice as a beaming smile crossed her face. “You look wonderful.”
“Positively lovely!” Aunt Beth added. “It suits you perfectly.”
“Oh, I knew it would!” Betsy said gleefully. “Do you like it, Kay?”
“Betsy, I love it!” I spun around again. “I wish I didn’t have to take it off!”
Everyone laughed, and then Aunt Beth said, “But you must, I’m afraid, so that we can find some accessories to go with it. Perhaps an ornament for your hair, and new shoes, and a new pair of gloves—”
“No, Beth, that won’t be necessary,” Mom spoke up. “You’ve already been far too generous.”
Aunt Beth frowned a little. “It’s nothing, Kate.”
“I already have gloves, Aunt Beth,” I told her. “They’re practically new. And I’m sure we can find enough accessories at home for me to wear.”
“If you’re sure I can’t change your mind,” Aunt Beth offered one more time. I shook my head firmly in response.
“Very well, then.” She sighed. Then she turned to Mom. “All right, Kate. It’s your turn.”
“No, no,” Mom said. “This is Kay’s shopping trip.”
Betsy and I exchanged a glance. I reached into the fitting room to get the one dress I hadn’t tried on . . . the one dress that Betsy and I had hidden there, anticipating this very moment. It was made of raspberry-pink silk woven with gold threads, and I had a feeling it would be perfect for Mom . . . if we could convince her to try it on.
Mom knew what I was up to, of course. She gave me a pointed look.
“Please, Mom, won’t you try it on?” I asked. “Just so we can see it?”
“Oh, all right,” Mom said as she stepped into the fitting room. When she emerged a few moments later, I could tell from the gleam in her eyes that she’d fallen in love with her dress as quickly as I’d fallen in love with mine.
Aunt Beth took one look at Mom and said, “Kate, I won’t take no for an answer. It’s a stunning gown and you look marvelous in it.”
“It is a lovely dress, isn’t it?” Mom said thoughtfully, rubbing the delicate silk between her fingers. “Very well made, too.”
“You look so pretty, Aunt Kate,” Betsy said. “Oh, do get it! You must!”
“Then we’ll all have new dresses to wear to the ball, Mom,” I added. “Won’t that be special?”
For a moment, Mom looked torn. Then a grin spread across her face. “All right, all right,” she said, throwing up her hands. “I give in. I’ll get the dress!”
Betsy and I cheer
ed as Aunt Beth started clapping. Dad had told us to be ready to celebrate when he picked us up, and that’s exactly what we felt like doing!
Then Mom hugged Aunt Beth. “Thank you for the wonderful gifts you’ve given Kay and me today. Your generosity has touched my heart.”
By the time Aunt Beth had settled the bill and the clerk had wrapped up the dresses in two large boxes, it was time for lunch, so Aunt Beth treated us to a meal at Shepard’s Tea Room. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten out at a restaurant. It was such an elegant affair, with gold-edged china, crystal goblets of lemonade, and a small army of forks and spoons. I breathed a sigh of relief when I remembered which fork to use for each course! Everything seemed so much brighter and happier with Aunt Beth and Betsy; we laughed and laughed and had such a nice meal that we lost track of the time and were nearly late to meet Dad. All four of us were still laughing when we hurried back to Gladding’s, where Dad was waiting for us.
One look at his face, and our laughter stopped on the spot.
“What do we have here?” he asked in a lighthearted way, nodding toward the packages. “I see that Gladding’s was good to you!” But his eyes were sad, and there was a discouraged slump to his shoulders.
Mom rested her hand on his arm. “Did Randall . . . ?” she began, a hopeful edge to her voice.
Dad smiled at her, but the sorrow didn’t leave his eyes. “Afraid not, my dear. But tomorrow will be a new day, and each new day brings new hope.”
A troubled look passed between Aunt Beth and Betsy, but Mom’s shoulders straightened; if she was disappointed by the news, she’d never show it. “How right you are, Joe,” she said. “We’ll find a way. We always do.”
“Aunt Beth bought us the prettiest gowns, Dad.” I spoke up, hoping to recapture the cheerful mood.
“That’s wonderful, Kay,” Dad replied, sounding distracted. “Just wonderful. We’re in your debt, Beth. Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary,” Aunt Beth replied quietly.
We got into the car and began the drive back to Bridgeport. But unlike our morning drive to Providence, a heavy silence had settled over everyone. There was no more excited chatter or hopeful laughter. In fact, no one even spoke until we were nearly home again.