by Holly Weiss
William stoked the fire and then joined Gracie at the kitchen table where they sorted gift tags and cufflink boxes. Margaret worked green thread through a white fingertip towel.
“Let’s tell stories,” Eleanor coaxed.
“All right, here is a story that really happened, but you are going to assume I made it up.” Margaret put down her sewing and leaned forward, propping her elbows up on her lap. “Before I met your father, we had a thunderstorm here in October. Sandwiches fell from the sky for several minutes.”
“Sandwiches?” asked Eleanor, scrunching her eyebrows together.
“Ham and chicken, to be exact. Also pickles and chocolates. A twister hit some town nearby and carried people’s picnic lunches to Eagles Mere.” Margaret playfully checked the expressions on their faces.
“Mama, it’s not like you to make up tall tales,” Peg said flatly.
“It is no tall tale. I remember it well. If you like, on Monday when the snow is packed down, you can go look it up in the town’s historical records. It was recorded in the newspaper.”
“Your mother tells the truth. I have heard this tale many times, girls,” William said.
The five of them chatted and listened to the radio. At nine o’clock William got up, gave an exaggerated stretch, and winked at Eleanor. “It has been a wicky-wacky birthday and I’m going to bed.”
Margaret accepted the kiss he planted on her cheek and pulled a big envelope out from under her sewing box. “Come here, girls. Gracie, you too.” All three sat in their bathrobes on the floor making a little circle around her. “Thank you for making my birthday special. Before you go to bed, I have a surprise for you. I found these things in my father’s safe.”
They watched as she pulled old, yellowed papers out of the envelope. “Here are some things he saved from the early days.”
“Ooh, look,” they said as they fingered each one and passed it around. A birthday card she had made for him when she was a child. A copy of Captain Chase’s bill for laying the plans for the foundation in 1899 along with the guest register from the first season in 1900. A 1904 breakfast menu. Train tickets from the old Sonestown cog rail line.
“No train stops here, Mama,” Peg said.
“Not now, but when I was a girl the guests would ride the small gauge train up from Sonestown, disembark at the base of Crestmont Hill near the outlet pond, and be ferried up to the big house by horse and carriage. Eventually, there was so much flooding that the trestles were washed away. They stopped using the train about the time your father and I assumed ownership of the Crestmont. Now people simply motor up the hill in their automobiles.”
“We should display some of these things for the guests, Mama,” Peg said importantly.
“Here’s something you might want to keep,” Gracie said, pulling the brochure out of her pocket. “I mean, I’m sure you have these in your files, but I found this when we went over to shovel the attic. It must be very old.”
“Oh, my, I had almost forgotten that cover. It’s one of my father’s designs, so that would make it at least fifteen years old.”
After she kissed her girls goodnight, Mrs. Woods gave Gracie a hug. “I hope you decide to work at the Crestmont again this summer.” Gracie reddened, gave a quick nod, and vanished into her bedroom.
Someday, maybe someone would find these artifacts interesting, Margaret pondered as she put them away. If one of the girls took over when they retired, who knew how long the Crestmont would continue to breathe life into weary city people.
****
William was in bed reading Henry Wadsworth Longfellow when Margaret came in from a final goodnight with the girls. “It was nice of Gracie to help you organize your cufflinks today, William. Now you can say thank you when you run into the guest who gave them to you.”
“I always say thank you when I receive a gift, Margaret.”
He closed his book and slid down under the covers extending his arm as an invitation. She curled, facing him in the bed, and put her head on his chest. “Having Gracie with us this winter has been good for us, despite what I said in September. She has a gift for grasping at life, which I cannot fathom.”
“And your gift is serving our family and our guests. That’s a tall order for a forty-two-year- old woman.” He chucked his thumb playfully under her chin. They lay there, quietly listening to the wind. “Frankly, Margaret, you seem much better than last fall when you were, shall I say, somewhat depressed.”
“Your gift of taking responsibility away from me today truly helped. It has been the most wonderful birthday I can remember.”
“I think you deserve much more than one day of respite. Have you thought any more about your father’s suggestion to find a way to restore yourself? He gave some good advice in his letter and I agree with him.” He leaned down and kissed her. “I can picture him stealing catnaps up there in his hideaway.”
“I have had no time.” She turned over and they curled, spoon fashion, in the bed. Margaret’s breathing slowed and he was sure she was asleep when she said, “Maybe you could row me around the lake for a little break from it all.”
“Margaret, it is twelve degrees outside.”
“In the spring, silly.”
He chuckled, kissed the back of her neck and settled under the covers.
“What do you think Eleanor meant about my father reading her stories?”
“Just a child’s imagination, Margaret. Creativity is a child’s playground.” He yawned loudly. “I just wish she would actually play chess with the chess set we gave her.”
The Crestmont Inn
May 1926
“And we were worried about money. Feast your eyes on this stack of mail.” William gleefully dropped a fat pile of letters into his wife’s lap.
“Let us hope they are reservations, William.” Margaret set aside a letter written in a tiny, fussy script she had been reading.
“They have to be. The brochure I produced this year features ten carefully captioned photographs describing our upgraded accommodations, expanded activities for our younger clientele, and the elevation of our cultural aesthetic by featuring internationally known performers in our concert series.”
“Asth…what, Papa?” Eleanor asked, perplexed. “How do you spell it? Remember you promised me you would help me with my words for the spelling bee.”
“That I will, little one.” William whirled Eleanor around in a dance step. “And we will go see the waterfall in Forksville that we missed on your birthday.”
“Before you do, please bring over my typewriter from the big house. It is still too cold to work in my office. After I go through all of this mail I will be typing all week. Last minute requests for special needs continue to pour in. Can you believe this one?” She waived the tiny scripted letter. “Mrs. Pennington has sent an additional letter requesting four bed pillows this year.”
“I marvel at your attention to detail, my love. One typewriter to the Woodshed. I’ll do it right now.” He ducked out the door exhilarated with pre-season anticipation.
“After that, can we work on my spelling words?” Eleanor asked, trailing behind him.
Margaret propped her feet on the footstool and opened the first letter.
The season is going to open whether you are ready for it or not.
****
The sweet smell of the new wood permeated the chilly room. After setting the new lamp on the nightstand and plugging it in, Gracie dragged a box of curtains in from the hallway. She pulled out her rag to wipe the remnants of construction dust off the Venetian blinds. Twin white chenille bedspreads, dresser scarves and fingertip towels would complete the décor.
An urge to run up to her old room on the second sleeping floor pestered her. Images from last summer pummeled her brain. The encouraging smiles of the Woods at her interview. Hiding the Paperbag poems in her dresser. Her indecision about going on the road to sing. The little zing she felt when PT accompanied her on the piano. She had pondered all these things in th
e tiny, private room she loved in the big house.
The calm the huge hotel offered was contagious. Just as it enfolded Crestmont Hill in an embrace, it comforted Gracie with an identity, a place where she felt accepted. She had found parts of herself here she never knew had existed. Even though the winter with the Woods was a one-time experience, she had an inkling there would be a permanency here she had yet to understand.
The notion of sharing a room with a stranger in the new dormitory terrified her.
“Who is it?” Gracie had inquired, knowing Mrs. Woods wouldn’t show favoritism by telling her in advance of her roommate assignment.
“Don’t worry.” Mrs. Woods reassured her. “Our choice will please you.”
****
Mrs. Woods sang softly to herself while she worked decorating the room next door. Gracie hoped that meant she was looking forward to the summer. The new addition and staff dormitory were a lot of changes to absorb.
The lonely wail of a loon searching for its mate startled her. Gracie parted the curtains to look for it, but saw only the still, serene surface of the water. Soon its calm would be disturbed by laughter-filled water games and canoes cutting through the lake. The chatter that always filtered up from the main floor when she cleaned was remarkably absent. The quiet was eerie.
The ring of the telephone jolted her from her daydreaming. Mrs. Woods’ steps on the stairs echoed as she ran down to the lobby to answer it. Whoever was on the other end of the line sparked a vivacity Gracie had never before heard in her voice.
Within five minutes Mrs. Woods rushed back upstairs calling her name.
“Oh, here you are. My, the room looks beautiful. Cheerful and inviting. Exactly what any guest wants. Gracie, I need to go get dressed for tonight. Excuse me, I mean I think we can finish up tomorrow, don’t you?”
“I don’t mind working a little longer on my own. Decorating the new rooms is more fun than I imagined.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Words bubbled out, solving the mystery about the telephone call. “The annual hotel owners’ party is tonight. Our friends from the Lakeside just called. The Raymond Hotel is hosting a big convention on Sunday, so they moved the party up two days. Everyone comes—all of our hotel friends, the people who tumble into Eagles Mere to open their cottages for the summer—it’s like a tapestry of the whole town, before the hotels are filled with people, that is. We share hints about running the hotels, funny stories and quirky things that happen with the guests. Oh, I laugh more at this party than I do all year!”
“I can stay home with the girls if you like.”
“No, all of the children come too. Please join us, Gracie.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Woods, but I’m not sure I would fit in.” Gracie envisioned herself surrounded by people she didn’t know. An evening home alone with a good read might even be refreshing. “I’m amazed you hotel owners have the time to socialize…but I’m glad you do.”
“We have surprises galore here in Eagles Mere.”
****
The next morning, Sid Fox squinted against the sun while he brushed white paint on the porch railing of the Evergreen Lodge.
“Almost done.” he said in greeting as Peg and her father strolled down the driveway toward the dormitory to inspect his progress.
“You’re a master painter, Sid. I didn’t expect you to have so much finished. Evidently last night’s party inspired you.” Silky wisps of William’s blond hair danced in the morning breeze.
“I can just hear the staffers moving in, all excited and laughing, Papa,” Peg said. “I’m sure you’ve thought this through, but how are you going to keep the boys from getting into the girls’ rooms?”
Her father crooked his finger for her to follow. They descended several steps made of railroad ties on the laundry side of the building, bordered by rhododendrons sporting purple blossoms. He opened a bright red door with four small windows and his daughter peered inside. “This entrance only goes to the men’s section, with no access to the women’s quarters.”
“Well, what’s to keep them from walking around to use the other entrance?”
“A locked door after 10 p.m., a housemother personally recommended by Mr. Rose, and PT to keep the boys in line,” he said, counting all three on his fingers.
“PT will live in the dorm with the young guys?”
“All men except the bellhops will be in the dorm.”
“Good, then you’ll have room over the kitchen for Zeke.”
“Zeke lives in town, Peg. Why should we house him here?”
“Because it would be the kind thing to do, to get him away from his nasty family for the summer. And he takes his job seriously. You and mother usually reward that.”
“How do you know about Zeke’s family?”
Peg blew out an exasperated breath. “Papa, I am not a child any more. I see things.”
“I am proud that you do.”
Running up the steps separating the dorm from the laundry, she pointed to an area between the outside steps and the front porch of Evergreen Lodge. “You should make a little fish pond here and plant flowers around it. Staffers will be going back and forth between the dorm and laundry porches on their time off and it will give them something pretty to look at. You always tell me a happy staff means happy guests.”
“Peg, you have a flair for this. It’s a superb idea, but I am afraid we are already extended above our means.”
“I’ll build it. I’ll get Zeke to help me. All I have to do is dig and bring rocks to border it. I have allowance saved and I can buy some gold fish to put in it.”
Her father gave her a big hug. “You remind me of your grandfather Warner,” he said proudly. “Can you have it done before they move in?”
“Sure, Papa,” she added. “And remember, I am your official assistant on water sports this season, with my name right up there on the bulletin board.”
“Surely we could wait until you are eighteen for that.”
Peg pursed her lips and purposefully shook her head.
The Crestmont Inn
Summer 1926
I
Gracie wasn’t sure what awakened her first; the unfamiliar creaking of the floorboards as girls walked around on the second floor above, the whooshing of the plumbing after a morning bathroom run, or the orchestra of birds chirping outside. It certainly wasn’t Dorothy’s snoring. Gracie had finally become accustomed to it when she fell asleep about one in the morning.
Dorothy lay across their tiny room in a red and white calico nightdress, half-in, half-out of the covers. Her ash brown hair splayed in waves on the pillow and her face was soft in sleep, oblivious to the ruckus.
Gracie snuck out of bed and cracked open the window in between the beds to enjoy the birds before Dorothy woke. Eighteen other female staffers chattered in the hallway of the Evergreen Lodge, beginning their day. She was thrilled to have been assigned a room on the peaceful, wooded side of the building where white pine, maple and hemlock trees sheltered rhododendron and ferns. The rooms across the hall merely looked out over the laundry and steam room.
****
Finishing the cleaning of the new bathrooms on the second sleeping floor before the first crop of guests checked in was a challenge, but she did it. Elated that Dorothy had recommended a mystery book with a woman detective and a lot of suspense, Gracie made a quick stop in the Crestmont library before lunch.
Time got away from her, so she scribbled down a couple of words to look up and put them in her pocket. She’d have to check them out later. Besides, she had other business in the staff dining room.
It was fairly empty when she arrived. Hank was up on a ladder changing light bulbs in the wall fixtures. Three chattering girls pushed away empty soup bowls.
But PT wasn’t there.
She was sure he was supposed to arrive this morning. She was dying to be near him. Her plan was to ask about his winter and find out when they could jam together with a new song. After that, she would see wher
e the conversation led them.
“Hey, Gracie. Grabbing a bite?” Zeke poked Gracie in the back, and then danced around in front of her, fanning one dollar bills in front of her face. “First day back and get a load of these tips. My twenty dollar smile and this new addition are happy partners.” He dove toward the buffet, wrinkled his nose at the soup made from last night’s asparagus, and piled his plate with sandwiches.
“I’ll take some of that soup. You’d be amazed at what Isaiah can do with leftovers,” Gracie said. They added beverages and carried their trays to a table.
Zeke wolfed down his sandwich, wiping crumbs off his mouth. One landed on her book. He flicked it away with his fingers.
“You’re always reading. You really need to get out more, kiddo. The piano man was looking for you.” Zeke poked her teasingly. “I wish you two would get together so we could all relax. Did you hear I’m sleeping over the kitchen this year? Better to hear your call bell, sir, and all that. Mr. W hired a new bellhop, some college guy from town. I’ll have to give him some of my special training. Isn’t the new staff lounge in the basement of your dorm downright hip to the jive?”
“I haven’t seen it yet,” Gracie admitted, weary of his chatter.
“You’re kidding. A ping pong table, comfy couches, a fireplace, radio, card tables. Get this—Peg convinced Mr. W to put in a popcorn machine and he said he would move the piano from the old staff lounge down there. The best part is a screened-in porch on the side next to the woods. Kind of private, you know, just right for a little hanky-panky. Got my eye on Mae this year, if that housemother, Slagle will let me near her.”
“Mae? I’ll ring your neck if you hurt her, Zeke. You behave yourself.” Gracie pulled his ear until he winced and got up to return her empty bowl and spoon to the dish cart.