The Way of Beauty

by Camille Di Maio

  What could he mean by those things?

  She was too exhausted to belabor it for now.

  “Yes, Emmett. It’s enough.”

  It wasn’t. But to demand more might mean to lose this, and while she might have to face up to that someday, she would delay it as long as possible.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  She returned home spent—emotionally, physically. She and Emmett had never fought. And she never wanted to again. She didn’t know if she was strong enough to face William tonight, but if the hot water was working, she could at least take a shower and refresh herself before dinner.

  “Mama,” she said as she stepped into the apartment. Vera was at the stove wearing a blue apron with red cherry designs. “You’re home early.”

  “It was a slow day at the store, so my boss told me I could go home if I liked, and I’ve been dying to make some of your father’s favorite minestrone. It just takes so much time, and I haven’t had a chance to do it.”

  “Where’s Opa?”

  “A blessing, Alice! William has hired a woman to spend several hours a week with Opa to help us. Her name is Celeste, and he is out taking a walk with her right now. A walk! Can you believe it? She’s charmed him every which way. She was a godsend, and we have William to thank for that.”

  Alice leaned on the counter and dipped a finger into the soup pot. “Are you at all afraid that we’re taking advantage of William’s generosity?”

  Vera put down her wooden spoon and placed her hands on her hips. “Whatever are you talking about?”

  “All this stuff he does for us. The gifts. The shows. And now a caretaker for Opa?”

  “Oh, Alice. I can’t believe you’d even think such a thing about your father and me. You know that just having William back in our lives is all we want. The rest is lovely. But I can do without it.”

  “Why do you think he does it?”

  “Because we’re his family.”

  “We’re not his family. But maybe he’s doing this so that he can buy his way in.”

  She knew even as she said it that it was grossly unfair. And it wasn’t even something she believed. But things seemed so upside down, and it was all she could cling to as she tried to understand how to move forward.

  It would be so much easier to lament William than to love him.

  And she did love him.

  “Alice Bellavia! I have a mind to wash that tongue with a soap bar, no matter how old you are. What has made you so sour today?”

  Alice felt her lip quiver. When she was a child, her mother had always seemed to sense when she was afraid or confused. She would crawl into Alice’s bed and sing “Wiegenlied,” the lullaby by Brahms.

  Vera walked over and pulled her into her arms. “What is really wrong, Alice?”

  Alice nodded into her mother’s shoulder and then shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Love is never easy, is it?”

  Alice pulled away and smiled through the start of tears. “I guess I always pictured that when I fell in love I would just know it.”

  She hadn’t told her mother specifically about Emmett, but she also knew that Vera was perceptive enough to know more than she let on.

  “Sweetheart, which is more beautiful—a summer day when you can sip lemonade and dip your feet in a fountain? Or a winter one at Christmastime when you drink hot cider and go ice-skating?”

  Alice thought about this, but her mother again spoke first. “The answer is neither. They are both beautiful in their own ways. What you must do is decide which suits you better.”

  Alice smiled and hoped that if she ever had children, she would be as insightful as her mother was.

  “Thanks, Mama.” She kissed her on the cheek and put a sweater around her shoulders. She decided to go catch up to Opa and Celeste and walk with them.

  When she arrived at the curb, she looked right and left but didn’t see them. She was just about to go back in when the horn of a car caught her attention.

  A sleek black automobile pulled up. She could see her reflection in its shiny polish, which contrasted with the stark white wheels that slowed down as it approached her.

  “It’s a lovely day to learn how to d-drive,” said its occupant.

  “William!” she said when she tipped her head away from the sun. “What are you doing here? I thought you were coming back tomorrow.”

  It did not escape her that her first reaction at seeing him was one of gladness.

  “My grandfather wrapped up a d-d-deal sooner than we both thought, so we took an earlier train.”

  “It’s good to see you,” she said. Meaning it. She was already sorry for the way she’d spoken to her mother about William. Her agitation told her that her feelings for William were truer than she wanted to admit.

  “Care to get behind the wheel?”

  “You’re joking. I’ve never driven in my life.”

  “I’m half-serious. Let’s head out of the city and then get you started.”

  A grin spread across her face. He opened the passenger door, and she slid in.

  “This is some car,” she commented. “Red leather seats? I didn’t know they came like this.”

  “They don’t. I ordered it specially. Kind of p-perks up all the black and white.”

  “What happened to your other car? The blue one?”

  “It’s at home,” he said. And she realized the silliness of her question. Surely someone like William could own two, three, four of them.

  As they drove over the Williamsburg Bridge into Brooklyn, he told her that this was a Lincoln Continental.

  “It was already on order before what happened at P-Pearl Harbor. They stopped p-production for the war. They squared up the f-fender for the 1942.”

  When they’d passed the suspension towers and reached the other side, William drove until they came to a quiet area.

  “Ready?”

  Alice felt her blood race with excitement at the idea of doing this.

  He stopped the car and got out while she slid into the driver’s seat. It was warm where he’d been sitting. She rubbed her hands along the steering wheel and began to memorize what all the white knobs and red needles said.

  Air. Temperature. Hood.

  “Okay,” said William. He closed the door behind him, and Alice realized that this was the most alone they’d ever been together. “What you want to do is engage the clutch. That’s the pedal on the l-left. There you go. And turn on the ignition.”

  She turned the key and heard the engine roar. She felt it vibrate throughout her body, and she had the feeling of being one with the car. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced. The power of it!

  William laughed. “You’re grinning, and we haven’t even gone anywhere y-yet.”

  “I love this! I’m driving,” she said, which prompted another laugh.

  “Not so fast. Put your right foot there on that brake.” He pointed to the other pedal. “Let’s put it in first gear.”

  Alice looked around. She didn’t know what that meant.

  “Here,” said William. He took her hand and put it on what he called the gearshift. He laid his hand over hers and helped her maneuver it into the lowest gear.

  Maybe it was just the exhilaration of the moment, but she liked this feeling.

  “N-now, slowly press on the gas while releasing the clutch.”

  She did just as he said, and after jerking the car once, she found the right rhythm to it. And they were off!

  Not quickly, of course. In fact, a stray dog ran by them and was lost to the distance before she’d gotten very far. But William encouraged her to go a little faster. Without speaking, he took her hand and again guided it, this time into second gear.

  Alice felt emboldened—she could do anything! And with the open road ahead of her, she drove to the limit of what the gear would allow. It was enough for the wind to blow her hair around. It fell in front of her eyes, and she tried to brush it away, but it was hard to do that when she needed to
keep her hands on the wheel.

  William noticed and leaned over to pull it back for her. But he was a second too late. She saw something streak across the car and felt a bump.

  She’d hit something.

  She stepped on the brake, and William helped her turn off the ignition quickly. She hurried around the car and found a dog lying on the ground. It was the same one they’d seen earlier. His fur was black and white, but red blood began to pool around one of his legs.

  Alice felt her whole chest constrict as she raced to the small animal.

  “No,” she said. “No, no, no. Oh, I’m so sorry.” She collapsed next to the dog and scooped him into her arms. He looked at her with big black eyes that seemed to forgive her even as she wanted to trade places with him rather than see him hurt.

  William ran over to her side.

  “Let’s get him to my house.”

  Alice nodded and carried the pup in her arms like he was a baby. He yelped as she sat down in the passenger seat once again. Her yellow dress was filthy, but she barely noticed it as she rocked the dog and held him tightly against her.

  How could this have happened? Had she been so enraptured by the excitement of the moment that she’d failed to see everything around her?

  She never wanted to drive again.

  William didn’t talk as he turned the car around, spraying a fan of dust into the air. He raced back over the bridge, driving with one hand while the other slid over to pet the dog. He took Alice’s hand and glanced at her.

  “He’s going to be just fine,” William shouted over the wind. “And you didn’t do anything wrong. He just came out of nowhere. The same thing would have happened if I were the one behind the wheel.”

  She appreciated his regard more than she could say. But it didn’t stop her from feeling so terribly responsible for the accident.

  When they got to the city, he veered around cars, driving faster than what Alice thought would be allowed, but she was grateful that he seemed to be risking a traffic ticket for the sake of this little animal.

  They pulled up to a large white house on a park. A chauffeur came down the steps and took over the car from William, ignition still running. William placed a hand against Alice’s back and guided her up the stairs.

  “This is my great-grandmother’s house,” he explained. “She lives closer, so I thought we could c-come here.”

  “Mr. Pilkington. So good to see you.”

  “Victor, hello. Can you help Miss Bellavia here?”

  Alice thought she saw the butler raise an eyebrow at the sound of her name, but she brushed off the thought.

  “Certainly, sir. Let’s go down to the first-floor kitchen. There’s a large table there that rarely gets used.”

  The details of the house were a blur to Alice, though its extravagance was not entirely unnoticed. It was like a museum.

  She followed Victor down a set of stairs to a series of rooms and halls that were much simpler than what was above. William followed behind.

  Victor laid a tablecloth across a table and gently took the dog from Alice’s arms. They suddenly felt so empty, but she leaned over his little body and stroked his ears while Victor and William took a look.

  “It’s okay, A-Alice,” said William after a minute. “It’s j-just a broken leg, and we can set that.” Victor left the room, saying that he was going to get some clean towels.

  Alice released a guttural sob that she must have been holding back. She rested her head against the dog and apologized over and over.

  “Alice,” said William. She turned around. He had blood on his shirt, too, his crisp white shirt. She looked down at herself and suddenly laughed. Not because anything was funny but because the tension just released itself that way.

  “You’re going to think I’m crazy. Crying one minute. Laughing another.”

  “Come here.” He held out his arms, and she stepped into them. She felt his heart beat against her chest, though she didn’t know if it was the adrenaline of the past hour or their own proximity.

  “I wish I could get him past our landlord,” she said. And as soon as she spoke the words, she knew that William would come to the rescue the way he always did.

  “He can stay with me, if that’s all right with you.”

  She pulled away and looked up at him. “You’re a busy man, William. You don’t need the responsibility of a puppy.”

  It was his turn to laugh. “I have people who help me with th-things, Alice.”

  Of course he did. She had to get used to how different his life was from hers.

  “Although,” he continued, reaching over to stroke the dog’s nose, “I think I might just take care of this little guy on my own.”

  “Thank you,” Alice mouthed. She was at a loss to voice more than that.

  “He’ll need a n-name, though,” suggested William.

  Alice thought about it. “Would it be silly to call him Lincoln, since the car is how we found him?”

  “Lincoln it is.”

  Their hands brushed against each other as they petted Lincoln. Alice felt a shiver run up her arm. She pulled away after lingering a second longer than necessary.

  “I should get home now.”

  He nodded. “I can drive you. Victor can take care of Lincoln until I get back.”

  “Thank you, but I’d like to walk.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Really, though, William. Thank you for everything today. For trying to teach me to drive. And for—him.”

  She looked at Lincoln one more time while William spoke. “If you’ll let me, Alice, I’d like to c-continue with the driving lessons in the future. You were really good out there. I know you can do it—that you can do anything you want to.”

  “How can you say that after what happened?”

  He held her gaze.

  “B-b-because I believe in you.”

  There were no more tears to be had today, but William’s words surrounded her heart and made her feel the kind of love that her parents shared with each other.

  He followed her back up the stairs and held the door open for her. She turned back, and their eyes locked.

  “See you soon?” he asked.

  “See you soon.

  It was a long walk home, but Alice was starting to feel like herself again when she got to the door of the building. What a day it had been. Her argument with Emmett seemed like it was ages ago, but her exhaustion reminded her that it had happened just this afternoon.

  Then William had shown up. William. Lincoln. Driving.

  And it was only just getting dark.

  When she arrived home, Opa was asleep, and her parents were sitting down at the table eating the minestrone. She saw an envelope waiting at her place, and she opened it. Her parents said nothing about how it had gotten there or who had delivered it, but the way they averted their eyes as she read made her understand that they weren’t going to ask her questions.

  I thought about what you said. I do want those things, my dreamer. I want to marry you and have children with you and see you through college and spend every day in your company. But I have to put some things to rest that stand between us now. Things that might put you in danger. So please have faith until I can see you again.

  Please trust me. Trust us.

  Love, E.

  P.S. And, I beg you, don’t come to the apartment.

  Chapter Thirty

  There was no trace of Emmett. She waited for him to come by the newsstand as he always did, hoping that his absence would mean days. But it turned to weeks, and he did not come. Bertie had not seen him. She even dared to ask her father if he’d seen Emmett, describing him, although she quickly saw that Angelo’s eyes had not missed anything and he knew more than he’d ever let on to her.

  She was frightened with worry.

  I beg you, don’t come to the apartment.

  Alice did as he asked, but she looked everywhere else—she even visited the offices at Life to see if any submissions from Emmett Adler ha
d come in. But no one had heard from him.

  At last, she tried him at the apartment despite his warnings.

  But the lock had been changed. She didn’t know what else to do.

  In contrast, she heard from William almost daily. While he was away again on business, she received postcards from Philadelphia, Richmond, Durham, Charleston, all the way down to Miami. His grandfather was working on negotiating contracts with the government to convert some of their clothing lines into military uniforms. William had designed a pitch that outlined their ability to bring down costs per unit for the government while increasing revenue for their company due to the volume of work.

  He told her—although she would have already known this of him—that it was not the profits he was concerned with so much as helping their employees keep their jobs during this economic uncertainty. He had a plan to ask them to reduce their pay across the board by 10 percent so that everyone could stay rather than letting some go.

  While he was away, Alice took Lincoln out for a walk at every opportunity. He still limped, and it looked as though it might be permanent, but he leaped with excitement every time Alice came by to see him. She could barely get him on his leash and he was ready to bound down the stairs.

  Lincoln and the fact that her classes would be resuming again soon gave her much joy. But as she was concerned about Emmett and thought about William, she knew one thing—she had to make a decision before anyone got hurt.

  “Alice, what is the matter?” Her mother found her stewing over this one afternoon. She rubbed her hand along her daughter’s back. Alice was holding Emmett’s note and had not moved, frozen as she thought about all these things.

  “You’ve looked troubled for a long time. Do you remember how we used to talk? You used to bring home flowers you’d pick along the way, and I wouldn’t have the heart to tell you that you weren’t supposed to take them from people’s gardens. But you gave them with such innocence that I couldn’t reproach you. Where has that Alice gone?”

  “I’m the same Alice, Mama.”