“You’ll have to warm up your dinner when you get home.”
“I’ll manage.” She had hoped Mama might say she’d miss having her around the house. She should have known better.
“It might be good to start a savings account at the bank, just so you don’t squander your earnings.”
“I planned to do that with my first paycheck.”
“Good.” Mama left Hildemara to finish the cleanup and went outside to sit on the porch swing.
Papa said the Depression wouldn’t last forever, but hard times brought more traveling salesmen to the door. Farmers fared better than most. They knew how to grow their own food. Even with the price of almonds and raisins down, Papa and Mama didn’t worry about putting food on the table. Papa had enough money for the mortgage and taxes. “If we run short, I can find work,” Mama told him. “Mr. Smith offered me a job at his bakery.”
“You aren’t going to work for him, are you?”
“He swears he had nothing to do with the Herkners’ bakery burning down.”
“And you believe him.”
“You’re the one who always tells me not to judge people, Niclas.”
“There’s judging, and there’s discerning.”
Mama sighed. “I said no, but if we need money, I know where to get work.”
“Start baking more here. Take your beignets and Torten to Hardesty. He’d sell them for you.”
Mama chuckled. “If you want beignets and Torten or anything else, Niclas, just say so.”
“So.” He pulled her down on his lap and whispered in her ear.
When others went to the movies, Hildemara worked. She met more students while working behind the soda fountain counter than she had during eight and a half years of school in Murietta. When the movies let out, the kids came across the street for sodas and sat in booths talking. Some of the adults left her five-cent tips.
She liked working. She liked the bustle and buzz of teenagers in and out of the drug store. She liked earning money, knowing every day she worked brought her closer to her goal. She took orders, made milk shakes and floats, washed glasses, cleaned counters, all the while dreaming of the day she would wear a white uniform and cap and walk the corridors of a hospital, bringing comfort to the sick. Maybe someday, she’d go to China and serve in a mission hospital, or tend sick babies in the Belgian Congo, or help a handsome, dedicated doctor stop an epidemic in India.
Mrs. King came in with a list from Dr. Whiting. While she waited for Mr. Pitt to fill the drug order, she sat at the counter and ordered a Coca-Cola. Hildemara told her she hoped to attend the nurses’ training program at Merritt Hospital in Oakland. “That’s wonderful, Hildemara! When you’re closer to graduation, I’ll write a letter of recommendation for you.”
The first year of high school passed in a blur of study and work. When Summer Bedlam rolled around again, Hildie asked Mama if she could do without her. Of course Mama said yes. Hildemara took on a second job at the Fulsomes’ chicken farm, plucking birds for market. Paid by the bird, Hildie learned to work fast.
She hoarded every dime and nickel, knowing exactly how much she had to save in order to pay for tuition and uniform fees. She would also need the tools of her trade: a pocket watch with a second hand to count heartbeats and a fountain pen to write vitals on patient charts. Mama and Papa had already made plans to send Bernie to college when he graduated at the end of the next school year. Every extra dollar would go toward getting him through school.
Hildie had seen Papa hand Bernie a dollar more than once so her brother could take Elizabeth to a movie on Friday night. “He’s young. He needs to have a little fun.”
Mama saw, too, and protested. “And what about the girls? They’re young. They want to have fun. Are you going to hand them a dollar every time they ask?”
Hildemara covered her ears with the heels of her hands. She hated to hear her parents argue over money. She swore she would never ask them for a dime. She would earn her own way.
27
1932
Bernie graduated with honors. From the first day of school in Murietta to the last, Hildemara’s brother had been the shining star.
Elizabeth sat with the family through the ceremony. When Hildie heard her sniffling, she handed her a handkerchief. Elizabeth wouldn’t be seeing much of Bernie that summer. Mama wanted him on hand to organize the Summer Bedlam work crew, and Papa needed him for harvesting.
Once a week, they let him loose and he went into town to see Elizabeth. He typically came home depressed. “I wish I didn’t have to go so far away to school.”
Mama snorted. “If you were any closer, you’d never get any studying done. You’d be too busy chasing after Elizabeth’s skirts.”
Clotilde snickered. “He doesn’t have to chase her.”
Bernie’s face turned red. “Shut up, Cloe.” He left the table.
Elizabeth came into the soda fountain almost every day through summer, bemoaning how much she missed Bernie. Hildemara let her talk.
When school started again, she came with Hildemara and sat at the counter, doing her homework. “You watch, Hildie. Your brother is going to meet some pretty college girl and forget all about me. It’s two whole years until we graduate!”
“He writes more to you than he does to Mama and Papa.”
“He only wrote twice last week.”
“Well, that’s twice more than he’s written home, and he’s been gone a month.”
When Bernie came home for Christmas break, he spent more time in Murietta at the Kenneys’ than he did at home. At least until Mama put her foot down. “Since we’re paying your way through college, you can help around here.”
“Mama! I haven’t seen Elizabeth since summer, and not much then. She might lose interest if I don’t—”
“The roof needs repair, and we need a new garbage hole dug and the old one covered. If you have time after those things are done, then you can go court Miss Kenney, though I think she’s in the palm of your hand already.”
Papa wasn’t so adamant about making Bernie spend more time at home. “He’s in love, Marta. Slack the reins a little.”
“He’ll have plenty of time for galloping after Elizabeth after he finishes college. And he’ll have something to offer then.”
Summer Bedlam had proven so successful, Mama had been holding it every year. The summer after Bernie’s first year of college was the fifth session. Bernie had outgrown snipe hunts, swimming in a ditch where the water only came up to his navel, and managing a work crew of “city softies.” He worked alongside Papa through the long, hot days of irrigation and harvest, then went off with his friends on the bicycle Mama had given him the first year for “keeping the boys in line.”
Hildemara didn’t receive a reward for the work she did helping Mama cook, clean, and wash clothes. She also took care of any first aid needs, but she didn’t mind that.
Boys kept coming, younger brothers and friends of friends. Papa never lost patience with the new boys.
Hildemara wished Mama had patience for her, but it seemed to wear thinner by the year. She’d snap orders and expect Hildie to know what she wanted before she wanted it. Hildemara tried to please her, but never knew whether she did or not. Mama never said one way or the other. For a woman who spoke her mind about everything else, Mama never seemed to say what she thought about her eldest daughter. Then again, maybe it was better she didn’t.
Hildemara kept building her savings account through sophomore and junior years. No sooner had Clotilde entered high school than Mama started talking about sending her to design school. Hildemara had to listen to them talk about it over dinner. Clotilde set her sights on the Otis Art Institute, and Mama didn’t seem to think it out of reach to help her with expenses. If that wasn’t enough salt in her wounds, Hildemara had to listen to Mama prodding Rikka to spend more time drawing and painting so she could put together a portfolio for submission to the administrators at the California School of Fine Arts.
Mama never told Cloe or Rikki to find a job and pay their own way.
1934
When Hildie’s senior class Slack Day rolled around, she took extra hours at Pitt’s instead of playing hooky with the rest of her friends. Clotilde came in for a soda after school, spending a portion of the allowance Mama now gave her. “Mama’s going into Modesto to do some shopping. You should come and pick out something to wear for graduation. They have some nice dress stores there.”
“Mama didn’t offer to buy me a graduation dress, and I’m not spending a penny of my savings on one.”
“What are you going to wear?”
“The dress I wear to church.”
“That old thing? Hildie, you can’t! Everyone else will be wearing something new, something special.”
“Well, I won’t be, and I don’t care.” She had no intention of wasting hard-earned money on a new dress. “It doesn’t matter, Cloe. No one is going to remember what I wore five minutes after I receive my diploma.”
“Well, whose fault is that? All you do is bury your nose in a book or work here.” She waved her hand dismissively.
Annoyed, Hildemara looked across the counter at her sister. “You want to know something, Cloe? I’ve worked every hour and every day I can and I barely have enough saved for one year of nurses’ training. One year, Cloe. And it takes three years to become a registered nurse.” She felt the prick of tears coming and lowered her chin, scrubbing at the counter until she had control of her emotions. “Bernie and you and Rikki will have it all handed to you on a silver platter.”
“You should talk to Mama. She’ll help you.”
“Mama’s the one who told me I had to earn my own way. She thinks nursing is a form of servitude.” Hildemara shook her head. “I can’t ask her for anything, Cloe. Bernie still has two more years of college. You’ll go to the Otis Art Institute and Rikki will be in San Francisco a few years after that. Papa and Mama only have so much. I can’t ask Mama for anything.”
“What is it Mama says? Nothing ventured, nothing gained?”
“I’ll venture to Oakland and pray God gives me the rest of what I need.” She didn’t want to ask Mama when she knew the answer would be no.
“You’re more stubborn than she is.” Cloe finished her Coke and left Pitt’s.
The night before graduation, Hildemara came home dog-tired and depressed. Maybe she could skip the ceremony and go in for her diploma later. She could say she was sick. It might be nice to sleep all day, if Mama would let her.
As she came in the back door, she saw a blue organza dress hanging on the foot of her bunk bed. Cloe came through the back door from the kitchen. “It’s for your graduation. What do you think of it?”
Hildemara dropped her book bag and pressed her knuckles against her quivering lips.
Cloe pushed her into the bedroom. “Come on. Try it on. I can’t wait to see how it looks.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Where do you think? I made it!” She bustled around Hildie, tugging her sweater off. “I’ve never worked so hard on anything.” Hildemara barely had her school dress off before Cloe pulled the new one over her head, tugging it down. She pinched one side and then the other. “Just needs a few tucks and it’ll be a perfect fit. We’ve been working on it for days!”
“We?”
“Mama bought the fabric and I designed the dress. We’ve both been putting it together. There won’t be another like it.” She stepped back, admiring her work. “It’s fabulous!” She frowned. “What’s the matter? Why are you crying?”
Hildemara sat on Rikki’s bed, grabbed her discarded dress, and tried to stop the tears.
“You like it, don’t you?” Cloe sounded worried.
Hildemara nodded.
“I knew you would.” Cloe sounded her confident self again. “And I knew you wanted a new dress for graduation, but you’d rather die than ask.” She laughed, pleased. “You said people won’t remember you five minutes after graduation, but they’ll remember this dress. And someday, you’ll be able to say you were Clotilde Waltert’s first model.”
Hildie laughed and hugged her.
When she tried to thank Mama later, Mama waved her off. “Bernhard had a new suit for his graduation. You needed a dress. I don’t want people saying I don’t take proper care of my children.”
Hildemara didn’t say any more about it. When she put the dress on the next day, Papa smiled and gave a nod of approval. “You look beautiful.”
Hildie turned. “The dress is beautiful.”
Papa put his hands on her shoulders. “You are beautiful. When you cross that platform and get your diploma, you’ll make me and Mama proud. Your mother never had the opportunities you’ve had, Hildemara. Her father took her out of school when she was twelve. It’s why she’s so dead-set on all her children getting as much schooling as they can.” He tipped her chin. “Don’t tell her I told you she never went to high school. It’s a sore spot with her.”
“Mama has the equivalent of a college degree, Papa. She speaks four languages and runs a school every summer. I haven’t gotten an answer from Merritt yet. I may be working at Pitt’s and living at home for the rest of my life.” That certainly wouldn’t please her mother.
“You’ll have an answer soon enough, and I’ve no doubt it will be the one you’re waiting for.” A car horn honked twice. He patted her cheek. “Better go. Mama’s waiting to drive you into town.”
She hugged him. “She’s coming back for Cloe and Rikki as soon as she drops me off. Are you walking to town or riding back with Mama later?”
He grimaced. “I’m riding. God, have mercy. I don’t want to miss my daughter’s graduation.”
Mama didn’t say a word on the drive to town. When Hildemara tried again to thank her for the dress, Mama’s mouth tightened and she shook her head, staring at the road ahead.
As Hildemara crossed the platform that evening in her new organza dress and received her diploma, she paused long enough to look out into the sea of faces. She spotted Mama, Papa, Clotilde, and Rikka sitting in the second row. Papa, Cloe, and Rikki clapped and cheered. Mama sat with her hands folded in her lap, head down, so Hildie couldn’t see her face.
Dear Rosie,
Hildemara Rose graduated from high school today. When she received her diploma, I feared I’d embarrass her with my tears. I am so proud of her! Hildemara Rose is the first girl from my side of our family to finish school.
God willing, and the crops are good, she will go on. I wanted her to go to university, but her heart is set on nurses’ training. She still has a servant’s heart. She dreams of being the next Florence Nightingale. If the Samuel Merritt Hospital School of Nursing refuses her, I swear I will go down and pry open the doors with my bare hands.
“There’s a letter for you on the table.” Mama nodded toward the envelope propped up against a mason jar full of roses.
Heart tripping, Hildie read the return address: Samuel Merritt Hospital School of Nursing.
Mama looked over her glasses as she mended a pair of Papa’s overalls. “You won’t know what it says unless you open it.”
Hands shaking, Hildemara grabbed a knife from the drawer and carefully slit open the envelope. Her excitement died as she read. Mama dropped her mending on her lap. “What’s the matter? They don’t want you?”
“I meet all the qualifications except one: I’m not eighteen.” She wouldn’t turn eighteen until January. She would have to wait until the next class started the following fall.
“You don’t have to be eighteen to go here.” Mama took another envelope out of her apron pocket and held it out. It had already been opened.
Hildemara read the embossed printing in the left corner. “The University of California in Berkeley? Mama, I can’t go there.”
“Why not?”
Hildemara wanted to weep in frustration. “Because I’m still saving up for nursing school!” She tossed the letter on the kitchen table. “Besides that, a university isn’t
for someone like me.” Fighting tears, she headed for the back door.
Mama threw her mending on the floor and stood. “Don’t you ever say anything like that again! I swear I’ll slap you silly if you do!” She grabbed the letter from the table and held it up under Hildemara’s nose. “You have the brain! You have the grades! Why shouldn’t you go to college?”
Hildemara cried out in frustration. “Tuition, plus books, plus room and board in a dorm . . . I’ve barely saved enough to pay the uniform fee and one year of tuition at Merritt. And that’s where I want to go! After six months’ training, I’ll be paid by the hospital. I’ll have to save every penny so I can pay for my second and third year!”
Mama flapped the envelope. “This is the University of California in Berkeley, Hildemara!” Her voice rose in frustration. “A university!”
Clearly, Mama wasn’t listening. “It’s one year, Mama, and I’ll have nothing at the end of it.”
“Nothing? What do you mean, nothing? You’ll have one year at one of the best universities in the country!” She flapped the envelope again. “That’s worth more than—” She stopped and turned away.
Hildemara pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t cry. “More than three years of nurses’ training, Mama? That’s it, isn’t it?”
Mama made fists and pounded them on the kitchen table so hard it bounced. Shoulders drooping, she swore twice in German.
For once, Hildemara didn’t cower. She spoke her mind. “You let Cloe and Rikki dream their dreams, but I haven’t the right, have I, Mama? No matter how hard I try, I’m never going to come up to your expectations. And I don’t care anymore. I want to be a nurse, Mama.” Something erupted inside her and Hildie screamed. “A nurse!”
Mama rubbed her face and let out her breath. “I know, but you’ll have to wait, won’t you? And while you’re waiting, why waste your time at Pitt’s when you could go to Berkeley? Even one semester—”
“The money I’ve saved is for nursing school.”
“Then I’ll send you! I’ll pay for the year!”
Marta's Legacy Collection Page 29