by Jae
The first print caused a little splash as she rinsed it in the tray full of water. Careful, careful! Don’t ruin it. She washed away the last traces of chemicals and then hung up the picture on the clothesline that stretched through the tiny room. The last image she held in her hands longer than the others, lifting it up to the amber safelight.
Giuliana had looked directly at the camera, and now it was as if her dark eyes were gazing at Kate. Maybe it was just the amber glow of the oil lamp, but it seemed to Kate that Giuliana was looking at her with warmth and affection.
She shook her head at herself. Her fascination with Giuliana was quickly becoming an unhealthy obsession. At least that was what her parents would have called it. To Kate, it didn’t feel unhealthy at all.
A knock came at the door. “Kate? Are you still in there?” The disapproval in her mother’s voice was easy to discern, even through the thick wood.
“Yes, Mother,” Kate called back.
“Then hurry up, dear. I’m going to take you to the City of Paris to pick out a new dress for Saturday.”
Kate suppressed a groan. Trudging through the most expensive store in the city might be her mother’s idea of an enjoyable afternoon, but it sure as heck wasn’t hers. “I’ll be right there.” She hung the picture of Giuliana up on the clothesline, peered at it one last time, and then doused the oil lamp and slipped out of the darkroom.
* * *
Giuliana put the last of the dried dishes away and let her gaze trail over the kitchen. Everything was spotless and should satisfy even Mrs. Winthrop, should she decide to do one of her inspections.
She hung up the dish towel next to the still-warm range and stepped out into the hall to collect her coat and hat. Tomorrow was Sunday, and she looked forward to a day of rest, even if she wouldn’t get to spend it in North Beach, strolling through the park and eating good Sicilian food with Kate, as she had done last Sunday.
“Julie!” Mrs. Winthrop called as Giuliana walked past the parlor.
The anglicized version of her name made her grit her teeth, but she forced herself to smile as she peeked into the room, where Mrs. Winthrop sat in an armchair with a book on her lap. “Yes, ma’am?”
“I need you to stay a little longer today,” Mrs. Winthrop said.
“But I wanted to—”
“Mr. Jenkins is taking Kate to the Palm Garden. Surely you don’t expect her to get dressed all on her own, do you?”
Mrs. Winthrop’s piercing gaze left only one answer. “No, ma’am.” She wanted to ask why Biddy couldn’t do it, but it was better not to test Mrs. Winthrop’s patience. Besides, it wasn’t as if she minded helping Kate. Without further discussion, Giuliana climbed the stairs and knocked on Kate’s door.
A muffled sound came from inside, probably an “enter,” so Giuliana opened the door. Her gaze swept over the four-poster bed with its red velvet canopy and drapes, which made it look like a tent.
Kate sat at her dressing table, in front of the oval mirror with its golden frame. She was wearing only a sleeveless chemise, a pair of drawers, and black silk stockings. Her honey-blonde hair hung down her back.
Frozen, Giuliana paused in the doorway, her hand still clutching the doorknob. What did you expect? Of course Kate had to undress before she could put on her evening gown. But Giuliana couldn’t tear her gaze away from Kate’s slender back, her sleek arms, and the waves of hair cascading past her shoulders.
What was so special about that? She’d seen half-dressed women before. On washday, the women in the boardinghouse sometimes helped each other, and they often took off their dresses so they could give them a good scrubbing too, doing the laundry in the backyard in just their drawers and chemises.
Admittedly, none of her neighbors were as beautiful as Kate.
Kate’s gaze met hers in the mirror.
Flushing a bright pink, equally visible in the looking glass, Giuliana hastily entered and closed the door behind her.
Kate turned. “Did my mother order you upstairs to help me get dressed?”
Giuliana nodded and tried to find an inconspicuous point to direct her gaze. Finally, she decided that the crown of Kate’s head should be safe enough.
“I’m sorry,” Kate said. “I didn’t want her to hold you up. I know it’s getting time for you to leave.”
“It is all right. I do not mind,” Giuliana said and found that she meant it. “I am not sure how much I can help. I never wear one of these.” She pointed to the whalebone corset that hung over the back of a chair.
“Lucky you,” Kate mumbled. “They’re horribly uncomfortable.”
Giuliana stepped closer and took the corset off the chair. “But it is worth it, yes? To look pretty for your young man?”
When she turned, Kate gave her a dark gaze. “Let’s get it over with.”
The assortment of hooks and laces in her hands confused Giuliana. She looked from the corset to Kate. “Eh, how do we…?”
Kate waved at her to hand over the article of clothing and wrapped it around her torso. “Can you hold it in place while I hook it up?”
Giuliana stepped closer and held the corset against Kate’s back while Kate closed the hooks on the front. The warmth of Kate’s skin filtered through the material, making Giuliana’s body temperature rise along with it. The subtle scent of lilacs teased her nostrils, and she inhaled deeply. Was that some kind of perfume that Kate had put on to entice her gentleman friend?
“Giuliana?” The way Kate called her name made it obvious that she’d tried to get her attention several times already.
“Eh, what did you say?”
“I said you can lace up the back now.”
“Oh. Yes. Sorry.” Giuliana breathed through her mouth so the fresh scent could no longer distract her as she sorted the corset’s strings and then pulled them tight. “Like this?”
Kate grunted. “Tighter.”
“Are you sure? I do not wish to hurt you.”
“It has to be tight. Otherwise, what’s the point of wearing a corset?”
Giuliana pulled the laces tighter. Caspita, that couldn’t be comfortable. No wonder the wealthy ladies didn’t get any work done. Giuliana doubted she’d be able to breathe, much less scrub a carpet, clean a fireplace, or dust a bookcase in such a thing.
Finally, they were done, and Kate put on a corset cover and stepped into two petticoats. “Would you bring me the dress?”
Giuliana looked around.
Spread out on the bed was the most elegant evening gown she had ever seen. It was black, but some sort of silver elements were woven into the material, sparkling like stars against the night sky. Careful not to trip and damage the expensive dress, Giuliana carried it over to Kate, who slipped it over her head.
The material settled around Kate’s body as if it had been tailor-made just for her—and it probably had been. The dress was tight in the waist, emphasizing the hourglass figure the corset had created. It flared out at the bottom and ended in a short train. The bodice was cut lower than any Giuliana had ever seen, but it was still decent enough to reveal just a modest bit of cleavage.
Kate stared at herself in the mirror. With a frown, she tugged at the front of the dress, then at its ruffled sleeves that ended at her elbows. “I feel like a little girl playing dress-up in her mother’s good clothes.”
Oh no. You look very grown up, believe me. Giuliana bit her tongue before she could say it out loud. What strange thoughts was she thinking?
When Kate bent to put on her shoes, Giuliana quickly looked away.
“Heavens,” Kate mumbled and clutched her ribs. “I had almost forgotten how restricting these things are. I can’t even tie my own shoes. Would you mind?”
Shaking her head, Giuliana knelt in front of her and tied her laces. When she stood, she caught another whiff of Kate’s perfume. With the thick soles of her shoes, Kate was even taller, bringing Giuliana at eye level with her chest. She wrenched her gaze away.
“Can you do my hair?” Kate aske
d.
“I hope so. I never do well with my messy curls. They do not stay up. Your hair will work better.”
“Are you kidding?” Kate stared at her. “Most women I know would kill for hair like yours.” She reached out as if wanting to touch a lock of Giuliana’s hair but then snatched her hand away, turned back around, and sank onto the stool in front of the mirror.
Her heart pounding, Giuliana stepped closer. Why are you so nervous? Kate wouldn’t dismiss her from her position if she didn’t do a good enough job. With a deep breath, she reached over Kate’s shoulder for the silver brush on the dresser and trailed it through Kate’s hair to remove the tangles. The tresses felt as soft as silk beneath her fingertips. Get on with it. She’s not a doll for you to play with. She took a comb, made three partings, and put them up into a pompadour, which she fastened to the top of Kate’s head with hairpins. Two ringlets she left out, letting them frame Kate’s fair face.
When she was done, she stepped back and awaited Kate’s judgment.
Kate carefully touched her hair with her fingertips and eyed herself in the mirror. Then she turned and smiled at Giuliana. “Well done. You should be a lady’s maid.”
The compliment brought heat to Giuliana’s cheeks. To hide her face, she turned and got the hatbox that sat on Kate’s bed. When she opened it, she found a silk hat decorated with a plume of pheasant tail. She carried it over and pinned it to Kate’s hair with a pearl-tipped hatpin.
Kate glanced at herself in the mirror and let out a sigh. “I look like a vain peacock.”
“You look very pretty.” This time, it slipped out before Giuliana could stop it.
Kate turned and looked at her. A smile spread over her face. “You really think so?”
Giuliana could only nod. “You—”
The door was swept open, and Mrs. Winthrop marched in. “Are you ready, Kate? Mr. Jenkins is waiting for you in the back parlor with your father.”
Quickly, Giuliana stepped back and busied herself pulling loose strands of hair from the silver brush.
Kate let out a quiet sigh that just Giuliana could hear. “I’m coming.” She walked to the door, then stopped. “Oh. My gloves.”
A pair of black silk gloves was lying on the dresser. Giuliana picked them up and handed them to Kate.
Their fingers brushed.
“Hurry, Kate,” Mrs. Winthrop said from the doorway. “A man like Mr. Jenkins shouldn’t be kept waiting.”
Kate put on the gloves and sent Giuliana one last less-than-enthusiastic glance before following her mother downstairs.
Giuliana stayed behind. Her chest felt tight, as if she were the one wearing a corset. What was going on with her? She looked at herself in the mirror, staring at her flushed cheeks. A terrifying thought shot through her mind. Was she getting sick, like Turi?
She shook her head at herself. Other than that strange feeling in her chest, she was perfectly fine. Even her ankle had healed. The situation was probably just catching up with her. Losing her brother, getting employed by a wealthy family, being surrounded by all this luxury…And Kate. She was an experience all by herself. Their friendship was new and risky, so was it any wonder she felt a bit shaky around her?
Explanation found, Giuliana put the brush back on the dresser. Her gaze fell on the three crystal bottles lined up in front of the mirror. Did they hold Kate’s perfume, the reason why she always smelled so nice? Giuliana knew she shouldn’t, but she just couldn’t resist. After a quick glance back to the door, she reached for one of the bottles and pulled out the golden stopper. This bottle alone had to cost more than she earned in a month. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled deeply. The fresh, light scent of lilacs teased her nostrils and made her eyes flutter shut.
The door behind her swept open.
Quickly, Giuliana opened her eyes, whirled around, and hid the uncorked bottle behind her back.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing!” Biddy’s accusing voice cut through the room.
Heart thumping, Giuliana slid the bottle back onto the dresser. “W-what do you mean? I am doing nothing.”
Biddy stalked past the bed like a lioness on the hunt. “You don’t fool me for a second.”
Giuliana took a step toward her and held out both hands in a pleading gesture. “Pi fauri. Please, do not tell anyone. I swear I did not want to steal the bottle.” Oh Madonna, if Biddy told Mrs. Winthrop, the lady of the house would surely dismiss her. And what would Kate think when she found out Giuliana had been caught sniffing her perfume?
“Bottle?” For a moment, Biddy’s brow wrinkled, then the fierce look of anger settled back on her face. “I don’t know what you’re blabbing on about. I’m talking about you trying to steal my position!”
Now Giuliana really didn’t know what she meant. “Your position?”
“My position in this household! You’re trying to get promoted to my position as a lady’s maid. That’s why you’re thick as thieves with Miss Kate. You’re trying to get into her good graces!”
“What? No! This is not true. Mrs. Winthrop told me to help Miss Kate. This was not my idea.” She didn’t want to be a lady’s maid—certainly not Mrs. Winthrop’s and not Kate’s either. Not when helping Kate dress was making her chest feel all tight. But, of course, she couldn’t tell Biddy that.
“I’m warning you,” Biddy said as if Giuliana hadn’t spoken. She lifted her index finger and shook it only inches from Giuliana’s face. “I won’t let you take my position away from me! If you try anything, I’m gonna get you kicked out. I have my ways, you know? You just wait and see.”
“Oh, Biddy, you do not understand. Please do not—”
Biddy didn’t wait for her to finish. She whirled around and marched out the door.
Giuliana covered her face with her hands. Maybe it would be better if she stayed away from Kate. But the thought of losing her made her chest hurt even more.
She stepped toward the window to open it. Maybe some air would help clear her head and would sweep away the last traces of the perfume’s scent. With her hand on the window, she paused.
A gentleman clad in a fine suit and a top hat left the house, his arm extended for Kate to hold on to. His chest puffed up with pride, he led her to his automobile and assisted her as she took her seat. They looked like a couple from a fairy tale, both rich and beautiful.
Clutching the windowsill, Giuliana watched until the automobile had disappeared down the hill.
* * *
The Palace Hotel stood at the corner of New Montgomery and Market Streets, just a few steps away from the Newspaper Angle. As William steered them past the Spreckels building, Kate tilted her head back and glared up at the office of the San Francisco Call.
On Tuesday, she’d marched up there with her photographs of North Beach and the fascinating people living there. Mr. Fulton hadn’t even spared her pictures a glance. Without looking up from his work, he had waved his hand at her and told her to leave them and that he’d take a look when he got around to it.
Which, judging by the piles of paper on his desk, would be never.
She needed to find a way to get him to at least look at her work. Having it dismissed as not good enough would be one thing. She could accept that, if it was his honest opinion. But for him to completely ignore her just because she was a woman…
William followed her gaze. “Something wrong with the Spreckels building?”
“Oh, no, it’s fine.”
“Of course it is,” he answered. “It was designed by my father’s architecture firm after all.”
Kate looked over at him to see if he was joking, but he appeared entirely serious. William might have many fine qualities, as her mother kept pointing out, but a great sense of humor wasn’t one of them.
“Did you know that we used granite for the first three floors and white marble for the floors above?” he asked.
When Kate shook her head, he took that as an invitation to tell her every detail about the building’s
construction. He was still going on about it when they left the automobile on New Montgomery Street and walked around the corner to the Palace Hotel. The white seven-story building took up almost the entire block. As far as Kate knew, it was still one of the biggest hotels in the world.
The first step into the large courtyard that held the Palm Garden restaurant always took Kate’s breath away, and this time was no different. The court was as high as the hotel. She stared up at the stained-glass dome a hundred feet above, its light reflecting off the polished marble floor. White columns and several floors of galleries encircled the court.
William offered his arm and led her across a plush, red carpet to one of the small tables covered in white linen, flashing silver, and fine crystal glasses. A tropical garden with tall palms and other exotic plants surrounded them. An orchestra played in the background, and champagne corks popped over at the mahogany bar with its long gilded mirror.
How different this was from Luigi’s small trattoria, where she’d had lunch with Giuliana last Sunday! Here, she had no problem reading the menu and ordering the bass à la béchamel when the waiter approached with a white napkin over his arm. But there also was no laughter at the table.
By the time their dinner was served, William finished his explanation about the Spreckels building. But before Kate could draw breath to introduce another subject, he said, “Did you know that the Palace Hotel is entirely fireproof? They even have seven reservoirs with thousands of gallons of water up on the roof. Nothing can destroy this place.” He tapped the table as if to prove its solidness.
Kate hummed her agreement in all the right places and otherwise focused on eating her fish. It was delicious, no question about it, but it didn’t have that astonishing blend of sweet and savory flavors that the pasta con le sarde possessed. “Have you ever had Italian food?” she asked, interrupting his monologue about steel-enforced walls.
He looked up from his filet de boeuf and wrinkled his nose as if she’d asked him if he’d ever eaten a shovelful of horse manure. “I haven’t tried it, but I heard about it. I doubt I’d like it. All those vegetables…” He shook his head. “It’s clearly a poor man’s cuisine.”