by Terri Lee
“You simply live to annoy me.”
“What can I do to help you, Mother?” Frances batted her eyes in mock surrender.
Lena, ready to continue with the contentious discussion was caught off guard by her daughter’s about face.
“Well…” She looked around, not sure what to say. “Just mingle.”
“Okay. Mingle it is.” Frances started to walk off, when Lena grabbed her elbow. She leaned in close to her daughter’s ear.
“Graydon Harris is here with his parents. Perhaps you could speak to them.”
Not this again. “Perhaps, I couldn’t,” she said. “Where’s Charles? Graydon is his friend.”
“They are guests in our home. It is the duty of our entire family to make them feel welcome. You can do your part.”
“What a stupid name, anyway. Graydon.” Frances wrinkled her nose.
“He certainly cannot help his name. He had nothing to do with it.” Lena dismissed her.
“Well he doesn’t have to embrace it.”
“I believe it’s his mother’s maiden name. I think it’s charming.”
“You would.”
“Now I know you’re just spoiling for a fight. It won’t hurt you to walk over there and say hello.” Lena gave her daughter a little shove in the right direction. “And stand up straight, for heaven’s sake.”
“But of course.” Frances rolled her eyes. She was thinking about turning in the opposite direction when her father caught her eye and waved her over to the small gathering. William Durant’s boisterous laughter rang out at something his guest was saying, but she could tell his laughter was hollow. She dutifully moved to join her father and his little group.
“And here is the late Frances Durant.” William grinned at his own joke. “Frances, I would like to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Harris.”
Her father put his arm around her shoulders and beamed as the introductions were made. Father and daughter were cut from the same cloth. The same dark hair and eyes the color of deep umber. People would often say to her, “you look just like your father” which she knew was simply another way of saying that she looked nothing like her mother. The French-Canadian blood was strong between them, but Frances stiffened under his embrace.
“And of course you already know, Graydon.” Mr. Durant nodded towards the handsome young man on her right.
“Yes.” Frances forced a smile. “Nice to see you again.”
Graydon flashed a cocky grin and Frances smothered a yawn. She knew her parents were throwing her in the path of Graydon Harris in the hopes of making a good match and in a blatant attempt to secure her father’s own path to future financial deals with Mr. Harris. The problem was they hadn’t bothered to consult her in the matter. They didn’t know the first thing about Graydon Harris. And Frances had no intention of playing along with their little game.
“So how do you like college? Bryn Mawr, isn’t it?” Graydon asked.
“It’s swell.” Frances answered in as short a sentence as possible. She enjoyed the tense pause that followed as she watched him squirm.
“Bryn Mawr. That’s a lovely university. My niece went there a few years ago. I remember thinking it was quite a pretty campus.” Mrs. Harris interjected a bit of nervous laughter in an attempt to save the moment.
“Yes. Quite.” Frances continued with her two word answers, standing with what she hoped was a vacant smile on her face. If she was lucky, the Harrises would think she was some sort of a half-wit and realize that she was not a suitable match for their precious son.
William Durant glared at his daughter and Frances was sure that if they had been seated at a table, her father would have kicked her by now. She played dumb and continued with the charade.
“Well, I’d better be off. I was supposed to be getting some punch for my grandmother. She’s not feeling well,” Frances said with an exaggerated frown as she nodded to the Harrises. “It was very nice to meet you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of one another this weekend. Excuse me.” She all but ran from the little group.
Spotting her blonde cousin standing on the patio, Frances waved madly as she made her way over.
“Lucy, thank God you’re here. Save me.” Frances hugged her cousin and best friend.
Lucy, who always found herself swept along in her cousin’s dramatics, asked with suspicion, “Save you from what?”
“Mother, throwing me at Graydon Harris. She has no shame.” Frances took Lucy by the hand and led her to a couple of chairs seated under a large tree, where they could have some privacy. Lucy searched the crowd and spied the young man in question.
She shrugged. “He doesn’t seem so bad.”
“He’s an idiot.” Frances looked with alarm at her clueless cousin.
Lucy bit her lip as she continued to tease her animated compatriot. “Hmm…Charles says he’s a big man on campus. So I’m fairly confident that he’s not an idiot.”
“Well, you would be wrong.” Frances corrected her with confidence of her own.
As if on cue, a commotion erupted across the lawn as the same red-faced waiter Frances had met earlier spilled a tray of drinks on Graydon Harris. The waiter’s attempts at helping only succeeded in causing Graydon to unleash his temper on the hapless fellow as he shouted loud enough for all to hear, “You bumbling fool!” Graydon continued dressing down the young man, unaware that everyone had turned away from the scene, more embarrassed for Graydon’s display than for the waiters.
“See what I mean?” Frances nodded to her cousin, “Graydon Harris is a very small man. I simply cannot stand that.”
Lucy had to agree.
Foster made his way over to the two girls sequestered under the tree. “Miss Frances, your mother has asked me to retrieve you.”
“Retrieve me? Am I the family dog now?” Frances looked up into the worried frown on Foster’s face.
“Her words, Miss Frances, not mine.” He shifted uncomfortably and Frances looked down to his polished shoes, sure that she would find her reflection there. For his sake, she did her best to respect the invisible boundary that society placed between them. Yet in private moments, she had no problem blurring the lines.
Lucy giggled which only encouraged Frances to play to her audience.
“Did you at least bring a leash?” Frances asked.
Foster struggled to hide his amusement.
“It’s no good, Foster. I see you smiling in there.” She pulled herself up from the lawn chair with a groan. “Alright, I’m going. We can’t have Lena assuming you have failed at your duties.”
“Thank you, Miss Frances.” Foster said.
“I suppose I’d better start mingling, or else I’ll be treated to an episode like the one that waiter just endured.”
After a round of polite conversations with several guests, Frances found herself back by her mother’s side. However, this time, her Aunt Evelyn had joined the party.
“How is my favorite aunt?” Frances greeted her with a warm kiss.
“Hmm…I think I’m your only aunt.” Evelyn Drummond said as she winked at her eldest niece.
“One thing does not negate the other,” Frances said. “You look lovely, Aunt Evelyn. You’d better watch out or people will take you for Lucy’s sister.”
Evelyn fidgeted with her hair, which was several shades darker than her sister’s. As if Lena had soaked up all the sun, while casting a shadow over her younger sibling. Evelyn, who was not as used to the compliments as Lena was, blushed. “You look lovely too, Sweet Pea.”
“She would look lovelier if she had worn the dress I bought for her.” Lena interjected herself into the mutual admiration society. “But because I bought it, it goes without saying that it must be rejected.”
Evelyn tried to smooth over her sister’s annoyance. “She looks pretty in anything she wears.”
“Don’t encourage her, Evelyn. She’s spoiled rotten, but it’s our own fault. We’ve allowed her to be too headstrong. It was cute when she was younger. William
and I should have tightened the reins a long time ago when we first caught wind of her wild streak,” Lena said with exasperation.
Frances sighed, “I’m pretty sure this is my exit line.” She brushed past her mother in a hurry to remove herself from this well-worn tirade. She could recite the lines verbatim by now. She had been an unwilling actor in this scene for years and thought it best to leave Lena to her soliloquy.
As Frances marched off with her head held high she heard her aunt offer an olive branch on her behalf as she said, “I would say she’s more spirited than spoiled.”
“You tell her, Aunt Ev.” Frances muttered under breath. She couldn’t make out her mother’s response but she could tell by her tone of voice that she would not be swayed by Evelyn’s flimsy attempt at peace-making. As Frances dared to look back over her shoulder she saw Lena link arms with her younger sibling and draw her into the crowd and out of earshot, which Frances thought was just as well. It was probably best that she not hear what her mother had to say.
TWO
Lake Champlain was beautiful. The freshwater lake was in its glory for this summer soiree. Of course, Lena would stand for nothing else and even Mother Nature knew enough to comply. The younger crowd had gathered at the water’s edge on this second day of festivities, preparing for the first swim of the season. The water, smooth as glass, looked like a polished dance floor in the flickering sunlight. Although the girls were in their bathing suits, they had no intention of going into the cold water. It would be quite enough to sit on the sidelines and look pretty.
There had already been a bit of a stir among the parents regarding the latest swimwear fashions. The girls were accused of pushing the boundaries of propriety with their choice of attire. Bare arms and legs, which were now all the rage, were still considered an appalling breech of etiquette among the older crowd. So Frances and Lucy knew exactly what they were doing as they sashayed down to the lake, heady with the full force of their female power.
Laughter from the group that had already made their way to the dock greeted Frances on the dirt path and she quickened her steps, eager to join in the merriment. It was a joyful noise, trumpeting from free-spirited youth, in those heady moments before stepping fully into adulthood. Life had not yet stolen their dreams. For once dreams have been handed over, there is nothing left to do but stand with clenched fists and watch them go. However, now would not be the time for such sobering thoughts, for it was the time of invincibility. They owned their future and they wore their glorious youth like a suit of armor as they prepared to take on the world. In their laughter was the sound of summer.
Charles and Graydon were pushing and shoving one another in a light-hearted wrestling match at the end of the dock, sure to end up with one or both in the water. The girls would pretend to be bored and unimpressed with these male shenanigans while secretly watching every move. Such was the way between boys and girls and each knew their part to play.
“Charles!” Frances shrieked as her brother stood over her and shook his head, splashing cold water all over her. “You monster.” She so loved it when Charles was in a playful mood; it reminded her of their younger years when they were close and laughed often. Lately though, Charles had taken on a more serious tone, as if preparing himself to step into their father’s shoes meant stepping into his persona, as well.
Charles and Graydon squeezed in beside the girls and Frances noted that Graydon made sure to sit next to her. She could feel his eyes on her, but she chose to answer his attempts at conversation starters with the same small sentences that served her well yesterday. Knowing him, he would probably assume that she was just dazzled by his charms and unable to speak. His conceit had endless bounds, only to be exceeded by his family’s bank account.
Charles’s girlfriend soon joined the group. Cassandra Sellers was a pretty girl, although much too quiet for Frances’s tastes. Cassandra preferred to let Charles do all the talking, which was a perfect scenario for Charles. Everyone knew they would be married, although no official announcement had been made. Frances was not amused at the prospect of having such a milquetoast for a future sister-in-law.
“Hello, Cassandra.” Frances reached out to touch the shy girl on the hand.
“Hello.”
Well enough of that scintillating conversation, Frances mused as she turned to Lucy and shrugged her shoulders in a subtle attempt to say, “I tried.” The group of party-goers swelled as other young people made their way to the lake. Plenty of teasing and good-natured competition among the males was offset by quiet conversations comparing notes on clothes and boys between the girls.
Eventually, the talk turned to current events and someone brought up the recent controversy over the law granting women the right to vote. The amendment had been sent to the states for final ratification. It seemed to Frances that there wasn’t a conversation that could be had anywhere that didn’t sooner or later come around to the touchy subject.
“It’s a scary thought, indeed, to think that you two could be casting a vote in the future.” Charles nodded to his sister and his cousin Lucy, after the group had argued on both sides of the issue for a bit with Frances holding center stage.
Frances was undaunted by her older brother’s dismissive demeanor. “The world is changing, Brother-Dear. You’d better get in step or get out of the way.”
“You can come down off your soap box, Little Suffragette.”
“I don’t know, looks to me like she’s got a pretty good head on her shoulders.” Graydon winked at her.
Charles ignored the fact that his friend chose to break ranks in order to score points with the opposite sex. He looked down at his sister as he stood to go back into the water. “That school of yours is filling your head with progressive ideas. I’d better talk to Father about this.” He loved to get under her skin.
Frances stood as well, in a show of bravado. “Since you, Father, and every other male I know are always carrying on about what a mess this country is in, you only have yourselves to blame.” She turned her attention to Cassandra, hoping to draw the young woman onto her side. “What do you think about this?”
Cassandra lowered her lashes and stammered, “I don’t know. I guess I haven’t really thought about it.”
Frances was dumbfounded. “Well, how convenient for Charles.” With this, she gave her brother a shove and he landed in the water with a roar of laughter and a round of applause from the girls.
After awhile, things settled down and Frances and Lucy spread a blanket on the sun-warmed wooden planks of the dock and sat down to survey the scene. In that moment, Frances could say she actually felt contented. She was glad to be home and have Charles home from Yale, as well.
Perhaps they could spend some time together. The miles between them during the school year echoed the growing gulf between them lately. She mourned the loss of the easy rapport they once shared. When he wasn’t worried about looking serious, she could always make him laugh. Or at least she used to. Maybe this summer they would be able to turn back the clock and find where they had misplaced their relationship.
Frances would devote some time to healing their relationship later, for now she focused her attention on her cousin. “I’m excited about getting back to the city. I’m in serious need of fun.” With that, Frances fell over on her back and the two girls began whispering and giggling as they made plans for their attack on New York.
Out of the corner of her eye, Frances spotted her younger sister Margaret sitting in a nearby chair with her nose in a book. She felt ashamed that she had not gone out of her way to include her little sister in her silliness. Margaret always required an extra shove before joining in the merriment.
“Margie. Come sit with us.” Frances waved her over. But Margaret just shook her head as she held up her book and went back to her reading. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a tight little braid, much too severe for someone her age and although she smiled in Frances’s direction, Frances could feel her loneliness.
; Lucy sighed, “Is she still talking about going to a convent next fall?”
“I think it’s all but certain. It’s all she’s ever talked about. You know Margaret was born a nun. She came out of the womb praying the rosary. The doctor said he never saw anything like it.”
“Yes, I’m sure he hadn’t.” Lucy was quite used to her cousin’s wit. “What about you?”
“Well there’s no convent in my future. Margaret has all the goodness in the family.” Frances hugged her knees as she stared out at the smooth surface of the lake.
“I didn’t mean what about you going to a convent, silly. I meant what about you in the fall. Are you going back to Bryn Mawr?”
“Sure. I mean, I don’t see why not.”
“It’s awfully hard to find a husband at an all-girls school.”
“Who says I’m looking for a husband?”
“Then what are you looking for?” Lucy shaded her eyes with her hand as she squinted in her cousin’s direction.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Frances answered full of mystery. But the truth was that Lucy would be surprised or perhaps even shocked to know that Frances, who always had an answer and a plan, didn’t have an answer this time. It was clear to Frances that her grandmother had been right when she declared that Frances was restless in her soul. Just what exactly was she looking for?
THREE
Whatever it was that Frances was looking for, she was sure she could find it in New York. In the summer of 1919, New York City was really two cities. A microcosm of the world in transition. The past and the future bumped elbows as horses and buggies begrudgingly shared the road with automobiles. The past, doing its best to hold on, could do little to stave off the inevitable. The future, with no thoughts of sentimentality, was boisterously muscling its way in. There would not be room for both.
Frances, like the rest of world, wrestled with this new century. They came of age together. The same sense of urgency was coursing through their veins. Never satisfied with standing still, she was forever looking around the corner. Yet much like the city streets where horses were seen as slowing down progress, she too felt the constraints. Something was always pulling her back. Rules, propriety, tradition, or expectations. However, if one was paying close attention, one would have to say that there was something of the inevitable about her, as well.