The Bootlegger's Wife: A Love Story

by Terri Lee

  But for now, Frances looked up with a practiced smile and assured her cousin, “I’m fine, Lucy. Thanks for asking. But I want to hear everything I’ve missed since your announcement at Christmas. This is your time.”

  Lucy took her cue, realizing that Frances was not willing to discuss the matter further. The list of wedding plans was endless as Lucy’s unbridled joy took over and Frances listened patiently to every word. Finally Lucy took a break and a breath and asked with a big grin, “So what have the wedding plans been like over at your house?”

  “Oh, you have no idea.” Frances groaned. “No. I take that back. You probably have a very good idea. Lena is driving everyone mad. Even Cassandra, and it’s practically impossible for her to get angry. But I swear I saw steam pouring out of her ears the other day.”

  “Oh my. That poor girl.”

  “Well at least Cassandra can go home at the end of the day. The rest of us are prisoners with no hope of parole.”

  Lucy shook her head in sympathy. “On a different note, what’s going on with Margaret? She’ll be leaving soon, won’t she?”

  “Margaret is Margaret.” Frances sighed. “If it’s possible, I would say that she has grown even more reserved.”

  “It’s hard to think that our little Margie is really going to be a nun.” Lucy said wide-eyed.

  “It’s hard to understand how at her age she could be so certain about her future. I can rarely be that certain about what I want to wear on any given day.” The girls laughed, then Frances continued with a more somber tone. “But when I try to look at it through her eyes, I suppose I can understand her. She’s in love.” Frances shrugged. “It just so happens, that she’s in love with God.”

  Margaret had been lucky, Frances thought. She had no need to spend countless hours trying to figure out the reason for a mother’s aloofness. She had found the love she desired at a very early age in her relationship with God. He filled her every need.

  “Speaking of love, anything on the horizon for you?” Lucy coaxed. “You never mentioned anything in any of your letters.”

  “I never mentioned anything because there was nothing to mention. There is no one. Oh, there have been dates here and there, of course. After all, a girl has to go to a dance once in awhile. But nothing special. Certainly no one like your Tanner.”

  Lucy smiled, “No, there’s no one like Tanner. Even Mommy and Daddy love him.”

  “I’m so happy for you Luce.”

  Though Frances grinned, the thoughts she kept to herself came out to play. Why was it that everyone else seemed to know what they wanted? Charles, so sure of his future. Margaret now set to march off without a second thought, having signed up for God’s Army. And even timid little Lucy had managed to run off and get herself engaged while Frances wasn’t looking. Frances was happy, deliriously happy for her cousin. She didn’t have to pretend any of it. But that didn’t stop her from wondering, where was her happiness?

  THIRTEEN

  Frances didn’t know how she’d allowed herself to be swept along with this current arrangement, but here she was, on the arm of Graydon Harris as they doubled with Charles and Cassandra. The foursome prepared to enter The Brocade Room, of all places, and her heart caught in her throat at the thought of it. Oh yes, now she remembered how it had happened. Charles and Cassandra were talking about their upcoming evening and Charles piped up with, “Graydon, old man. why don’t you escort my little sister and join Cassie and I for a night of dancing?”

  Graydon looked over to Frances a little too eagerly, “I’d be happy to escort Frances anywhere she wanted to go.” Frances looked from Graydon to her brother, not at all sure this little impromptu speech hadn’t been thoroughly planned. She detested being set up.

  Frances fumbled for an excuse, “I was planning on going over to Lucy’s this evening. We still have so much to do.”

  “Oh join us, Frances,” Cassandra pleaded.

  Of all times for Cassandra to find her voice, Frances silently fumed.

  “Come on, sis. You’re always talking about us never having any time together.” Charles teased.

  “Well…” Her small hesitation was all that was needed for Graydon to swoop in and fill the gap.

  “Great. We’ll be a foursome tonight.” He beamed in triumph and Frances sighed with resignation. She’d tried very hard to remove herself from any activities that involved Graydon since their awkward kiss last summer. She went back to school and the two of them had gone on with their lives as if it had never happened. Graydon was many things, including an obnoxious boor, but he was not entirely clueless. Even he saw that his advances had been met with a splash of cold water.

  Now they stood at the entrance to the glorious ballroom and Frances was filled with mixed emotions. Although she was on the arm of Graydon Harris, her mind was a million miles away. A million miles and one year. She was kicking herself for not getting more information about the evening’s plans before agreeing.

  She had been knocked off her horse a year ago but the only thing to do was get back in the saddle. It was time to ride. It was time for some fun, even if she had to dance with Graydon in the bargain. She put on her brave face and tossed her dark head as she defied her reluctance.

  “Let’s dance.” She tugged Graydon’s arm and led the way to the dance floor. She didn’t have to persuade him any further. He flashed a victorious grin towards Charles and followed Frances where he insisted on making an ostentatious display by twirling her into his arms. She struggled to keep her annoyance in check and decided to just concentrate on the music.

  They danced through a couple of songs and then Charles and Graydon switched partners. Frances grinned, looking up into her big brothers face.

  “Hello Brother-Dear.”

  “Hello, Spitfire.”

  She laughed out loud at her old nickname. Yes, she would have to admit that tonight had been worth it. She was actually having a grand time. Charles was in one of his exceptionally happy moods. And on the cusp of their wedding vows, he and Cassandra were a delightful pair.

  The song ended and Charles was handing her back to Graydon when they bumped into another pair on the crowded dance floor.

  “Excuse…” Frances looked up giggling into a handsome face “…me.” She stood paralyzed as her breath left her. Could it be? Dear God. He looked every bit as shocked as she was.

  “Frankie.” Frances managed to push the word past her lips. It was not a question, but rather the naming of her apparition.

  Frankie stood looking down at her and she looking up at him. Their brains refusing to admit what their eyes had seen. Frankie found his voice first as he turned to his date. “Sally, I’d like you to meet…Frances Durant. Frances, this is Sally Mayfield.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Frances mumbled, all the while never taking her eyes from Frankie’s face. She didn’t bother with any introductions on her end. There was no need for anything further. Everything that needed to be said passed silently between them as she struggled to regain her breath.

  “Would you like to dance?” Frankie blurted out, forgetting he already had a dance partner.

  Frances only nodded silently.

  “Hey Pal, she’s with me.” Graydon put his hand on Frankie’s arm.

  “Is that right?” Frankie asked Frances, searching her eyes for confirmation.

  “No. I’m not with him.”

  “Appears you’ve made a mistake…Pal. No harm done.” Frankie pushed past the blustering Graydon as he led her to the floor, leaving everyone behind in stunned silence.

  Charles shrugged his shoulders abdicating any responsibility for his wayward sister’s behavior, and hurriedly led Cassandra back to their little table.

  Graydon was left standing beside Sally Mayfield, who looked like she’d been left at the altar. Sally looked up into Graydon’s stormy eyes and offered feebly, “Should we dance?”

  “Get lost, you little floozy,” he spat with disgust.

  “Hey, Bub, you don’t have to
take it out on me.” She retorted a little too loudly. Several couples close by turned in their direction at the commotion.

  “Don’t you understand what just happened?” Graydon stood with clenched fists as the fire spread from his cheeks down to his neck. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t intend to stand around here and be made a fool of.” Graydon brushed past Frankie and Frances in his hurried exit and Frances did nothing to stop him.

  For Frankie and Frances there was no music, no people swirling about them, no conversations. It was just the two of them, lost in time. It was as if a year had not passed between them. As if she had only been off powdering her nose and came back to complete their dance.

  “So where have you been, Miss Frances Durant?” Frankie looked down into her doe eyes with a softness reserved for her alone.

  “I’ve been right here.” Her lips turned up into a playful smile.

  “Well then, where have I been?”

  “Exactly. Where have you been?” Frances intended to search his face but she couldn’t get past those blue eyes. They drew her in and she surrendered control.

  Frankie pulled her closer and she leaned her head on his chest where she could hear his faint heart beat. Hers was beating much faster, she was sure. She couldn’t see the look on Frankie’s face as he held her tightly, but if she could, she would have recognized it immediately. For his exultant smile mirrored the thoughts racing through her heart. Both of them held on to one another for dear life, instinctively knowing that having lost one another once, they would never be so brash as to tempt fate again.

  Song after song, they remained on the dance floor locked in their desperate embrace. Afraid that to untangle themselves would leave them vulnerable to forces that might pull them apart forever.

  Charles sidled up to them to inform Frances that he and Cassandra were leaving. Frankie spoke up and assured Charles that he would see Frances home safely, and Charles, knowing when he had been beaten, agreed.

  After Charles walked off, Frankie looked around sheepishly, “Gee, I guess my date left.”

  “Good.” Frances would not pretend to be concerned.

  “Shall we go someplace where we can talk?”

  “I’d like that.” Frances slipped her hand in his and Frankie led her from the floor and out into the warm June night. She still couldn’t believe the turn of events. In fact, she would be forever grateful to Graydon and her brother for concocting the little charade that led her back to this very spot on this very night. Perhaps Graydon was right all along. Perhaps there was something to be said for all his talk of, “destiny”.

  Frankie steered her to a little coffee shop down the block and the two of them squeezed into the red leather booth. They had been lost at sea for a year and had finally found the shore.

  “I’m sorry.” Frankie blurted out, as he reached for both of her hands. “I’m so sorry for hurting you. I was a fool.”

  She could see the desperation in his eyes and hear it in his voice having lived with his mistake every day of this past year.

  “Yes, you were.” Frances grinned. “Lucky for you I’m in a forgiving mood.”

  Frankie leaned his head back and mouthed a silent “thank you” to the angels.

  She would not play games and pretend to hold her heart at a distance. She was incapable of that with him. With Frankie, she was her truest self. Although a small voice in the back of her mind warned her that she had allowed herself to fall too fast and too hard last time, she was more than willing to make the same mistake twice. Caution be damned, she would jump in the deep end once again.

  “So what have you been doing this last year?” Frances wanted to hear everything. Of course, her question implied, what have you been doing without me?

  “Regretting my decision every single day.” He looked hard at her.

  “I’ve been regretting your decision every single day, too.”

  Frankie took a deep breath, “You know it was all about me don’t you? It was never about you.” He squeezed her hand.

  “I know.”

  “But in spite of kicking myself each and every day, I’ve been working. Working hard and saving my money.” Frankie beamed. “I have a good job. I’m working for Morgan Bank, in investments.”

  She couldn’t keep from smiling as he crowed proudly.

  “They say I’m an up-and-comer.”

  “I’m sure you are.”

  She heard what she wanted to hear. All she needed to hear. He had a good job, with all that it implied. There would be no reason for him to feel unworthy as the two of them stepped out publicly.

  They talked for hours and Frances hung on his every syllable. The waitress poured as much coffee as she dared, and then finally gave up and left them alone. Pushing an errant strand of hair from her tired face, she wiped the same spot on the counter over and over as she stared openly at the young couple who were oblivious to her comings and goings.

  Frankie left her a generous tip which was quickly tucked it into the pocket of her apron as she watched the pair walk out the door with their fresh hope and their whole lives ahead of them.

  By the time they stepped out of the coffee shop, the night had turned to early morning. Though there was still so much to say, they knew now they were safe. They knew there would be another night and then another. Giddy with their good fortune, they realized how small their chance of finding one another in this city of six million had actually been. Frances laughed to herself at the thought. The stars had indeed aligned. It was kismet.

  FOURTEEN

  Lucy was thrilled to hear Frances’s romantic story and more than happy to agree to whatever small part she could play in helping the lovebirds find their footing before reality came knocking at the door. But first she demanded a telling and re-telling of the chance meeting, laughing uproariously each time Frances dramatically acted out Graydon’s lines. That was, of course, only after she got over her initial astonishment about the fact that Frances was actually on a double date with Graydon.

  “Whoa…what?” Lucy shook her head, stopping Frances mid-sentence before she could even begin.

  “Oh never mind about that.” Frances waved her hand. “I was tricked into it with Charles and Cassandra. There was nothing to it, at least not on my part. I hadn’t seen or heard a peep from him since he came to Gran’s funeral.”

  Lucy’s scrunched-up face told Frances that she wasn’t buying the notion that there was nothing to it. “Hmm. Maybe nothing on your part, but Graydon doesn’t seem the sort to give up once he’s set his cap on something.”

  “Oh, pooh. Besides,” Frances continued, “I thought Graydon was practically engaged to Claire Montgomery. What ever happened to that?”

  “I don’t know what happened to that.” Lucy shook her head. “I never heard.”

  “I can tell you what happened.” Frances said with a very matter-of-fact tone. “Claire Montgomery found out soon enough that Graydon Harris is a pompous ass. End of engagement talk.”

  “I think that’s your favorite phrase.” Lucy smiled indulgently at her cousin.

  “I do believe it is. At least whenever I’m discussing Graydon Harris.”

  So Lucy was enlisted once again to provide daily cover for the pair as they longed for a few days of peace before opening themselves up to the scrutiny of Frances’s parents. Frances knew, job or no job, Frankie was still in for a rough time. She just hoped that in the end, he would think she was worth the trouble.

  ***

  Another stolen night, and Frankie escorted her back to The Brocade Room. Walking up to the front doors, he said “I like to think of this as our place.”

  Frances grinned, “Me too.”

  “I’ll have a talk with someone about having the name changed. ‘Frankie and Frances’s.’“ He stared into space as he tested the name. “I don’t know, it doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it?”

  “Not exactly,” Frances agreed. “But then, Frances, never quite rolls off the tongue. How about, �
��Frankie and Lizzie’s?” She was quite full of herself tonight.

  “Maybe.” Frankie laughed along with her. “We’ll have to work on that.”

  It had only been a few days ago but it seemed like a world away when she stood on this very threshold with a feeling of trepidation. She’d almost turned around and fled the scene, trying desperately to come up with a plausible excuse to be released from what she envisioned as a night of forced frivolity.

  On this evening as they entered the ballroom, it indeed felt like home. As they began to thread their way through the maze of partiers, he gently placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her. It was the most wonderful feeling. At once proprietary, and chivalrous. It was the sort of small gesture made without thought or pretense of any kind. The sort that made a woman feel as if she were taken care of.

  As they danced, Frances let herself go. She would not over-think the moment. She would not be so busy making plans for tomorrow that she missed tonight. She would live tonight and use it all up before she worried about tomorrow and what it might bring. Tonight was enough to fill up her heart. To start with there were those eyes…and the way that he looked at her, as if he couldn’t see past her. That alone was enough for her to survive on for days.

  He was looking down at her with a mischievous grin when he said, “Remember when we met here last year and we were talking about Prohibition?”

  “I do,” she nodded. “You were very concerned about someone stealing your beer,” she said with mock seriousness.

  “Well, it appears the enemy has won the battle, but I dare say, not the war. This band of prune-faced-puritans will eventually be denounced in the end, of that I have no doubts. But the problem with puritans,” he continued with his mini lecture, “is that it’s not enough for them to abstain from what they perceive to be an evil of society. No. They can’t be satisfied until they make sure no one else is allowed to have fun either.”