by Lynn Austin
She wanted to turn and flee to the safety of the carriage, but her mother simply smiled and shouted to them above the noise. “All right, children. Let us through, please. We have to bring these things to Anna Walsh and her new baby. We’ll have something for all of you when we come out.”
The clamoring mob parted, and Lucy and Bebe made their way up the steps and into the building. The smell of urine assaulted Lucy in the vestibule. “Oh! That’s revolting!” she said before she could stop herself. Bebe said nothing as she led the way upstairs to the second floor. The apartment door was open, and she knocked on the doorframe and peered inside.
“Anna? It’s me, Bebe Garner.”
“Come in, Mrs. Garner, come in.”
The room was tiny and smelled of kerosene and perspiration. It was so hot that Lucy couldn’t breathe. Not even a hint of a breeze blew though the windows, which stood dangerously open to the two-story drop below. Two toddlers sat bare-naked on the wooden floor. A line of laundry was strung across one end of the room, dripping into a sink and onto the floor. Anna Walsh sat on a sagging bed on the other end of the room, nursing her baby. She couldn’t have been much older than Lucy was, but she looked as timeworn as Grandmother Garner. She thanked Bebe over and over for the food and clothing and other supplies.
“Is there something more we can do for you while we’re here?” Bebe asked. “Do you have some work that my daughter, Lucy, and I can help you with?”
Mrs. Walsh wouldn’t hear of letting them work for her, and after Bebe rocked the new baby for a few minutes and the two women chatted, she and Lucy left again.
“An apartment like this is all that Daniel can afford on his salary,” Bebe told her on the way down the stairs. “This is how you would have to live, unless he relies on you to support him.” Lucy nodded, refusing to reply. “My experience tells me that most men take a great deal of pride in being the breadwinner. How do you think Daniel will feel, knowing he has to rely on his wealthy wife for charity for the rest of his life?”
“He’s willing to work if you give him a chance. He could work for us at the tannery.”
“That decision isn’t entirely up to me. I would have to talk it over with Mr. MacLeod.”
Before they emerged from the building, Bebe pulled a bag of penny candy from her basket and held it out to Lucy. “Here. You can pass these out to the children.”
Lucy shrank back. “I don’t want to. You do it.” She would need to take a bath after touching all those filthy fingers. But her mother pushed the bag into her hands.
“I have a pocketful of pennies to pass out.”
Lucy did as she was told, gritting her teeth and bearing her penance. She would be home soon. And once the two weeks were over, she could be with Daniel.
“How much do you know about Daniel’s parents?” Bebe asked on the ride home.
“His father died while helping people escape from the flood, just like Daddy did.”
“And his mother?”
“He doesn’t talk much about her.”
“I think I know why,” Bebe said quietly. “I met Mrs. Carver a few years ago in one of the saloons we were trying to close down. Do you understand what it means if I tell you that Daniel’s mother survived after her husband died by selling her body?”
“You’re lying! You’re just trying to shock me!”
“No, it’s the truth, Lucy. I’m trying to help you understand the man you love. Women aren’t paid the same wages as men, even if they do the same job in the same factory. They can never earn enough to pay the rent and feed their children. Besides, who would watch her children while she worked a twelve-hour shift? After Mrs. Carver’s husband died, she must have faced all those dilemmas. The only way she could make a living and keep a roof over her head was to solicit business in a saloon every night.”
Lucy didn’t reply. She couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down her face. It explained why Danny had quit school and gone to work at such a young age. And why he wouldn’t talk about his mother.
“Mrs. Carver’s situation is one of the things that our Temperance League is working so hard to change. If we could get equal wages for women and affordable housing and childcare for widows like her, they wouldn’t be forced into such a tragic position. I’m certain that Daniel feels shame because of what his mother does, and I’m sorry that you were forced to see his shame. But you know your grandmother and her friends very well, Lucy. Will they ever accept Daniel, knowing what his mother does for a living?”
“That’s not fair! It’s none of their business!”
“Life isn’t fair. That’s what I’m trying to show you. And you need to remember that it will be just as difficult for Daniel to change and enter your world as it would be for you to enter his.”
Lucy longed to talk to Daniel about what she’d seen today. She wanted to tell him that she loved him and that the differences between them didn’t matter. And she wanted to hear him say the same thing. But she also knew that she could never shame him by admitting that she knew the truth about his mother. Unless he chose to tell her, it would be one secret that would always stand between them.
At dinner that evening Grandmother Garner began making plans for the Midsummer Ball. “Lucy, darling, we need to go shopping as soon as possible. If we don’t order our new gowns soon, all of the finest seamstresses will be spoken for.”
“Why don’t we go first thing tomorrow morning, Grandmama?”
Lucy loved to shop. She and her grandmother drove downtown as soon as the stores opened the next day. But as they made their rounds, it distressed Lucy to realize that her grandmother had a hard time keeping up. When had Grandmother Garner become so frail and out of breath, her steps so slow and halting?
“Sit down, Grandmama,” Lucy said over and over. “You should rest a bit. We don’t have to keep going.”
“Nonsense. I’ll be fine.” But Lucy listened to her painful wheezing and worried, just the same.
As they paged through pattern books and selected fabric and lace and ribbon, Lucy couldn’t help remembering all of the happy hours she had spent shopping with her grandmother as a child. She tried to imagine the two of them sitting side by side this way, choosing the wedding gown she would wear when she married Daniel, and found that she couldn’t do it. Her mother had been right about that much. If Lucy married Daniel Carver, she would break her beloved grandmother’s heart.
Lucy forced all these disturbing thoughts from her mind over the next few days as she prepared for the ball. She made luncheon dates with some of her school friends to compare notes about their dresses and giggle about all the young gentlemen they would meet at the upcoming event. She had forgotten how much she enjoyed their girl talk, even though she found herself avoiding their questions about what she’d been doing all summer. As the day of the ball neared, Lucy grew more and more excited. She no longer thought about Daniel a dozen times a day as she had when the separation first began. She was much too busy deciding how to arrange her hair and which shoes would be more comfortable for dancing. When the night finally arrived, Lucy felt like a princess in a fairy tale.
“You look beautiful, my darling girl,” Grandmother said as Lucy descended the stairs. “The young men will be fighting to fill your dance program.” And they did. The moment Lucy entered the ballroom, dozens of young men in tuxedos clamored for a chance to dance with her, the way the street urchins had clamored for pennies. She was swept away into the glory of it all, surrounded by colorful ball gowns and flowers, glittering candles and elegant music. And she loved every elegant minute of it. Lucy never wanted the evening to end.
Halfway though the ball, Grandmother Garner parted the sea of Lucy’s admirers and linked arms with her. “Come, my dear. There is someone I’d very much like you to meet. I hope you saved a dance or two for him.”
Lucy could tell that she dazzled John Sherwood the moment they met, and she savored the power she held over him. She was discovering how much fun it was to flirt and tease and
make a man laugh at all her charms. And John instantly held her interest, as well. His hands were soft and clean, his scent spicy and intoxicating. His tuxedo was the finest one she’d seen all evening, exquisitely tailored to fit his tall, sturdy body.
“I had it custom made,” he explained. “Our family owns several men’s haberdasheries, here and in various neighboring towns. But now that I’ve graduated college and have entered the family business, I have plans to expand our stores and turn them into fine department stores like the one I’ve visited in Chicago recently. Imagine, floor after floor with everything a woman could ever want to shop for, all under one roof.”
“I would be your most devoted customer, Mr. Sherwood,” she said with a smile. She tossed her dance card aside to waltz with him for the remainder of the evening, listening in awe as he described his recent trip to Paris.
“I would like to ask your family for permission to court you,” he said as the night drew to a close. “May I?”
For the first time all evening, Lucy thought of Daniel. She tried to picture him there at the ball, but he wasn’t wearing a tuxedo or whirling with her around the ballroom floor. Instead, she could only imagine him standing near the door, looking ashamed and uncomfortable in his coarse, work-stained clothes. Once again, Lucy knew that her mother had been right—Daniel would hate all of this. And he would never fit in.
“In fact, Miss Garner,” John Sherwood continued, “our family is planning a dinner party for next Thursday evening. If you are free, would you be kind enough to join us?”
“I would love to,” she replied. She began planning what she would wear, forgetting that her two-week separation from Daniel ended that night.
On Thursday evening, when Danny Carver tossed a pebble against her bedroom window, Lucy wasn’t home to hear it.
“I was so shallow, Harriet!” Mother said when she finished telling me her story. “I liked my pampered life too much, and in the end that’s what I chose. I wanted to wear beautiful gowns and attend lovely parties and travel to Paris. I loved wealth and ease more than I loved Danny.”
“Didn’t you love Father at all?” I asked in horror.
“Of course I did,” she said, blowing her nose. “But I thought I loved Danny, too, and I decided not to marry him for very selfish reasons. I didn’t want to be poor and live in New Town and have a mother-in-law like his mother. And I knew he would never fit into the life I wanted, either.”
I exhaled, alarmed to learn how close my mother had come to throwing everything away for Daniel Carver. I admired Grandma Bebe even more for her wisdom and ingenuity.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Mother said, “I care very deeply for your father. We’ve had a good life and two beautiful children together. It’s just that . . . I confess to feeling guilty at times for the pain I must have caused Danny. I’ve often wondered what became of him and what our life together might have been like. Who would I be today if I had chosen differently? And now he’s dead.” She blew her nose again and dropped the handkerchief onto her desk.
“Lately, I can barely look at myself in the mirror,” she said tearfully. “I look around at my elegant home and my wardrobe filled with clothes . . . I think about how much money I just spent on Alice’s wedding, and I’m horrified with myself. My father was a hero who died saving people! My mother has dedicated her life to helping others and improving our community. And me? All I ever think about is myself, Harriet . . . only myself. . . .”
I didn’t know what to say to my mother. I reached for her hand and patted it uselessly, saying nothing.
CHAPTER
24
The day after Mother told me about Daniel Carver, we went to church as usual. She seemed to be holding herself together during the service, but that afternoon, while my father dozed on our sun porch, my mother dressed in black from head to toe and pinned a huge black hat on her head. “Where are you going?” I asked her.
“I’ve decided to attend Danny’s funeral.” She lowered the black mesh veil over her face, which still looked red and puffy to me. I was worried about her. She certainly hadn’t been herself lately. I would have called Grandma Bebe again for help, but I remembered the advice she had given me about spending more time with my mother.
“I’ll go with you, if you want,” I said. I thought she would refuse, but she didn’t. I quickly changed back into my church clothes while she called a taxi—Mother didn’t drive. And she would have fainted dead away on the floor if she ever found out that I did.
We arrived at the cemetery near New Town at the same time as the funeral procession. We remained at a discreet distance, standing in the shade of a huge oak tree that had obviously survived the Great Flood. “It said in the newspaper that Danny had a wife and four daughters,” Mother whispered to me. “I wonder what will become of them.”
We saw them a few minutes later, dressed in black and seated in chairs beside the open grave. But I counted six women, not five. Maybe the blowsy gray-haired one was his disreputable mother.
“Danny once told me how difficult it is for widows and orphans to survive without a father,” my mother said. “His mother was a widow, and she—” A sob caught in her throat. She slid her handkerchief beneath her veil to wipe her tears.
A dozen raggedy young boys suddenly surged forward to gather around Danny’s grave. I wondered if the three boys he had rescued were among them. They parted as the pallbearers moved Danny’s casket into place, then a man in a ministerial collar stepped forward to speak. I nudged my mother closer to the gravesite so I could hear what he was saying.
“Danny Carver died the same way he lived—helping others. He was a true hero. Some of you may remember Danny from his earlier years, and if so, you know how the Lord transformed his life when he came to know Jesus. By his own confession, Danny found hope, for the first time in his life, in Christ. Afterward, he spread that hope to everyone he met, not caring that his own circumstances hadn’t changed, but working to provide a better future for others. That was how his ministry to these young boys began. Danny fed them from his own table, bought shoes for those who needed them, took youngsters fishing on Sunday afternoons, and encouraged them to stay in school and get a good education. Above all, he shared his faith with these boys.” The minister’s voice choked with emotion, and he paused to clear his throat. “I’m sure the Lord must have a good reason why He needed Danny Carver in heaven, but frankly, I don’t know how we’ll get along without him here on earth.”
Mother sobbed beneath her veil as the six pallbearers lowered the simple wooden coffin into the ground. We could hear the hollow thumps as his family dropped clods of earth on top of it. As the other mourners filed past to pay their respects, Mother moved forward, as well. I stayed close beside her as she halted in front of the minister.
“I would like to do something for his family,” she told him.
“If . . . if they need money . . .”
Up close, I could see that the minister’s face had been ravaged by his grief. His voice was hoarse with it, too. “Money is important, of course. But it’s really a matter of vision. Danny Carver could look into a young person’s future and see hope when everyone else in New Town saw it as hopeless. I don’t know where we’ll ever find another man like him.”
“Please, tell me what I can to do for his family. Shall I bring them a meal? That seems so paltry. I want to help, but I’m not sure what to do.”
He shook his head like a man trying to awaken from a bad dream. “Come and see me next week,” he said. “I-I can’t think straight at the moment. I still have the funeral for the young boy who drowned. I’m sorry . . .” Another woman got his attention, and he turned to speak with her.
While my mother had been talking to the minister, I noticed that the gray-haired woman, whom I had assumed to be Danny’s mother, had been listening to their conversation. She rose abruptly from her chair and strode toward us, and I could tell by her stiff posture and glaring eyes that she wasn’t coming over to thank us for
attending. I wanted to grab my mother and run, but I was too slow.
“You rich women from up on the ridge are all alike!” Her voice was low and filled with rage. I could smell alcohol on her breath as she leaned close to us. “You leave your pretty little world, do a few acts of charity, and go home again. You think you’re better than everybody else, and you look down on women like me from on high. But we’re the ones your husbands turn to for love and excitement. There would be no need for us if rich men like your husband weren’t willing to pay for our services.” She turned and strode away again before I could draw a shocked breath.
Mother was quiet all the way home. I was sure she would collapse in another fit of weeping as soon as she reached her bedroom, and I figured I should call Grandma Bebe right away. But as we stepped from the cab, Mother turned to me and said, “I’m going to do something meaningful with my life from now on, Harriet. Just wait and see if I don’t!” She marched upstairs and changed out of her mourning garb without shedding another tear.
The way the women in Mother’s club tell the story, she barreled into their next meeting like Annie Oakley riding into the Wild West Show with guns blazing. “Ladies, I have a project for our club to undertake. If you would like to join me, I would be happy for your help. If not, I plan to tackle it with or without your help.”
The president inched toward Mother as if she may not have fired all of her ammunition yet and might still pose a danger. “Are you feeling all right, Lucy?”
“I have never felt better. But I’ve been thinking about how shallow we have become in our elegant little women’s club. All we ever focus on in our meetings is ourselves—improving ourselves and entertaining ourselves and pampering ourselves. What about service to our community? Isn’t it time that we, who have been so richly blessed, did something to help the women and children in Roseton who aren’t as fortunate as we are? I, for one, have vowed to commit myself to bettering the lives of the downtrodden here in our town.”