Crestmont
Page 18
****
Outside, the guests milled around, chatting and admiring the new addition. An unmistakable figure with sloping shoulders loped up the back lawn. Gracie gasped. Instead of the shirt sleeves and suspenders she was accustomed to when he was off duty, PT was smartly dressed in his gray jacket, pinstriped pants and yellow tie. He nodded slightly in her direction through the bobbing parasols of the women. She wanted to tell him how handsome he looked, but instead her blonde curls crawled around on her head rewiring the circuitry in her brain.
“So you’re back,” PT said, looking thinner than last year.
“Well that’s a fine welcome. As it turns out, I never left.” She forced a smile, appalled at her own words.
“Expected you’d be off singing on the road.”
“Another employment opportunity presented itself after you left last summer.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, searching for words. “You might have told me yourself. Had to find out from Zeke you stayed with the Woods.” One bony finger checked his moustache. “Maybe we could do another jam session. Do any singing over the winter?”
“Not the kind that would interest you,” she retorted, flustered by her own hostility.
“Would have been interested if you were doing the singing.” Without another word he disappeared.
Frustrated, Gracie squeezed her book close to her chest, elbowing her way through the mingling guests back down to Evergreen Lodge.
****
Dorothy peered in the dresser mirror that evening, methodically running her index finger down the part in her hair. Wincing, she pulled out a silver strand. “Now I’m presentable,” she said after carefully brushing her hair into loose waves.
Setting her brush down next to a mother-of-pearl barrette, she lifted a photograph out of her suitcase and placed it lovingly on the dresser. A uniformed officer smiled confidently into the camera. “There you go, Lawrence. This is our home for the next ten weeks.”
“It must be hard to be a widow, Dorothy,” Gracie said.
“It’s been eight years since he was killed in the war, and I still miss him. But I’m not alone. I have my school children during the year and my Crestmont family in the summer.”
Gracie changed into her pink shrug and hung her green uniform in the closet.
Dorothy mopped perspiration off her face. “Whew, it’s hot in here already and it’s only June. The big house definitely had better air circulation. I’d love to cool off with a double-decker chocolate cone from the Sweet Shoppe. We could motor down there…”
“I’m not quite finished getting settled. I didn’t want to take over just because I moved in first.” Gracie reached under her bed and pulled the yellow jewelry box out of her suitcase. Setting it on the dresser, she said, “Maybe this will keep your husband company.” Both sets of eyes grazed over the twin beds, dresser, tiny chair and writing table near the door.
Dorothy broke the silence. “Funny they put such a big closet in this tiny room. I saw a maroon dress in there that certainly is pretty.”
“My maroon slash.” Gracie mentally measured the two and a half feet between the beds as she pushed her notebooks farther under hers with her big toe. She pulled her sheet music out of the suitcase and put it on a shelf in the closet.
“Naming your dresses is one of your peculiar but endearing qualities, Gracie, Why you do it?”
“I don’t know. They keep me company. You know, Dorothy,” she said defensively, “I hardly had any clothes when I came here.”
“Well, there’s another piece of the puzzle. It is entirely your business and not mine, but people around here wonder why you are so secretive about where you came from.” Her face softened and she patted Gracie’s cheek. “Mrs. Woods told me you were a great help over the winter, dear.”
“They were wonderful, Dorothy. They treated me like family. Mrs. Cunningham, too. She’s teaching me to sew.”
Humming off key, the older woman sat down heavily on her bed, pulled up her waitress apron and fanned her face. “Did you see PT yet?”
Gracie removed her earrings, holding her breath momentarily before dropping them into the jewelry box. “Dorothy, he looked so handsome coming up the lawn, and when he talked to me I was nasty. I don’t know what came over me.”
Waving her hand, Dorothy said, “You were probably just jittery. A lot of people are obnoxious when they’re nervous.”
“But I didn’t mean to be, and he’s so abrupt and then I get all flustered.” She yanked on the transom pole in frustration to get more air.
“See what you’re doing to that poor thing? That’s what you two do to each other. A window of opportunity opens and one of you slams it shut before either one of you can say something nice. PT is abrupt because he’s attracted to you, Gracie. You’ve got to act coy with him so he relaxes.”
“Oh, honestly, Dorothy, even if I knew what coy meant, I wouldn’t know how to act that way.”
Sarcastic cackling erupted from the bathroom down the hall. “Oh, my word. Bessie must have moved in. That voice of hers sets my teeth on edge. Let’s go see what trouble she’s caused now.”
The commotion intensified after they pushed open the bathroom door. “I don’t care what bed I have.” Clearly distressed, Mae had wedged herself between two of the sinks.
“Girlie, ya have to learn how to assert yerself,” Bessie needled. “Right or left side of the window?”
“Do you mean as you walk in the room or as you’re in the bed?”
“Just make up yer mind, stupid. I’m tryin’ to be nice here.”
“I don’t care,” wailed Mae, wringing out her washcloth. The other girls in the bathroom had turned off the faucets to listen. “Which bed do you want?”
Bessie poked her freckled nose into Mae’s face.” I want the one ya don’t, and ya have to choose.” Mae started to cry. “Watch it girlie, or I’ll turn ya into a pickle.”
Dorothy broke in, planting herself between them. “Put a buckle on it, Bessie. It seems you’re feeling especially surly tonight.” She coaxed Mae out and pulled a dime out of her uniform pocket. “Flip this coin,” she said soothingly. “If it comes up heads you’ll take the bed on the left. Here we go.”
Bessie grabbed the dime defiantly out of Dorothy’s hand and tossed it into the air. She held one hand over the flipped coin and imitated Mae’s soft mewy voice. “As we walk in the room or…”
Dorothy grabbed her arm. “As you walk in the room, Bessie. Now let’s see it.”
She revealed the coin and Dorothy gently said, “Mae, you’re going to take the bed on the right. I’d be happy to help you to get settled.”
“No, thank you, Dorothy.” Mae blinked back tears, opened the linen closet and numbly took out her sheets. She carried them in front of her as straight as she would a dining room tray. “I can manage now.”
Chatter filled the long narrow hall that separated the dorm rooms on the first floor while they filed out of the center bathroom. Mrs. Ethel Slagle, the housemother, stuck her head out of the room by the front entrance. “Cut the ruckus, girls. You are going to have to get along.”
“I’m going to have to get behind myself and push to get through this,” Dorothy groaned and sank heavily on her bed.
“Get through what?” asked Gracie.
“How would you like to be a forty-six year-old woman living right next to the bathroom in a dormitory of adolescents, present company excepted?”
“I’m sure the Woods wanted you here to try to help everyone get along.”
“Then why did they hire Mrs. Slagle, on whose breath I detected liquor earlier?” Dorothy yawned. “I’m going to bed. I know you housemaids work hard, but you have no idea how early waitresses have to get up to get through the drudgery of pre-breakfast duties.”
Gracie fell asleep wondering why Mae didn’t stick up for herself, how she would feel if she had to room with Bessie, and whether she would ever have any time alone to work in her notebooks.
****
The satin-finished French doors with floral patterns etched in the corners stood open. As the younger girls filtered in, Gracie moved to the rear to enjoy the atmosphere, undisturbed. Elegant oriental carpets sectioned off conversation areas of chairs upholstered in soft rose and blue. Frosty glass lamps in hourglass shapes were painted with mauve roses. Powder blue wallpaper with a pattern of tiny pink roses set inside ivory cameos repeated the theme, accented by an ivory painted chair rail. Card tables for games of euchre or mahjong were arranged between the windows overlooking the back lawn. Sweet perfume from the vase of peonies on the mantel scented the air.
Bessie slithered in. She glowered around the room, spied Gracie and sidled up next to her like they were best friends.
“What’s goin’ on? I got rooms to clean,” she said, cracking her Tutti Frutti in Gracie’s ear.
Gracie shrugged and moved a step away. The rest of the girls chattered so loudly about the purpose of the meeting, they didn’t notice Mrs. Woods move calmly through the lounge and step up onto the hearth.
“Good morning.” The girls quieted immediately and retreated in lines like sloppy soldiers.
“We are now a week into our summer season. Mr. Woods and I hope you are pleased with the Evergreen Lodge. You have more privacy in your living space and the guests have more room here in the big house. However, the increase in guest rooms means more work for us all.”
She motioned for two girls to come forward. “Most of you have met our new girls, Eunice and Martha, but I would like to formally introduce them.” Light applause greeted them as they moved back into the ranks of the other housemaids.
“Our guests expect a more pristine environment when staying in a vacation accommodation such as ours than they would in their own homes. We work very hard to maintain the ambiance of our public rooms. After all, one does not come to the Crestmont to sit in one’s guest room.”
“I have had numerous complaints about the dust in this lounge.” Mrs. Woods stepped off the hearth, and turned on a tall floor lamp with an ebony base and a frosted pink bowl-shaped globe. She walked among the girls, dipping her head to make eye contact with each one. “Yesterday I dismissed the young woman who was assigned this room because of her indifference to my warnings.”
“So,” she continued, “I have cleaned the room myself, leaving one item untouched. The girl who can identify what has been ignored will be given the duty of cleaning all the public rooms in the west wing for two weeks, with a significant increase in salary. If her work is acceptable, she will continue this assignment for the remainder of the summer and the number of guest rooms she cleans will be reduced.”
Bessie hissed, “Aw, that’s easy. She was standin’ right on it, hopin’ we won’t notice. Watch, girlie.” Sauntering up to the fireplace, she smugly licked her finger and made a circle on the hearth.
“Incorrect, Bessie,” Mrs. Woods said.
The younger girls whispered questions as they scattered, inspecting the room for dust. Gracie wanted the promotion, but backed up against the wall, uncomfortable with the competition. Folding her arms behind her, she leaned back against the chair rail. A fly tickled her arm. Shooing it away, she noticed a line of dirt where her arm hit the chair rail. She quickly brushed it off. Better to keep her mouth shut.
“Hush, now, girls. It seems no one has earned the assignment, so I shall have to determine myself who will be cleaning the common rooms. You are dismissed.”
****
Two hours went by before Gracie finally summoned the courage to knock on Mrs. Woods’ office door.
“Ah, Gracie. The Woodshed doesn’t seem the same without you. I hope you are comfortable in the Evergreen Lodge.”
“It’s lovely, Mrs. Woods. Thank you for putting me with Dorothy.”
“My husband and I worked hard on those roommate assignments. We couldn’t envision either of you sharing a room with a younger girl. What brings you here this morning?”
“It was the chair rail, ma’am. In the Ladies Lounge. That’s what you left dirty.”
Mrs. Woods sank into her chair, her mouth widening into a sad smile. “So it was. I wish you had said so in the lounge.”
“I didn’t want the other girls to think…well, I lived with you all winter and some of them are finding out. I didn’t want it to seem like I was teacher’s pet.”
“But I hope you can see that you’ve made it all the harder. Because you did not speak up, it will seem like I chose you over the others.”
“I know. I was stupid. I’m sorry, Mrs. Woods.”
“You are not stupid by any stretch of the imagination. We all do silly things and try to learn from them. So, congratulations, you have earned the assignment. Beginning tomorrow, some of your guest rooms will be reassigned and you will begin cleaning the public rooms. I will show you exactly what to do after lunch.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Woods. I’m just worried about Bessie.”
“Bessie didn’t find the dirt. Are you telling me you are afraid of her? I’ve always supposed it is quite possibly the other way around.” Astounded, Gracie stood speechless. “Well, if you don’t want others to think I am giving you preferential treatment, I could assign you Mrs. Pennington’s room in addition.” Mrs. Woods tapped her pencil on the desk.
“Why, Mrs. Woods, no one wants that room. Mrs. Pennington is too particular.”
Mrs. Woods sat back in her chair. “As you wish.”
“I’ll take it.” Gracie said quickly, grateful for the way Mrs. Woods always snuck in a little guidance. After all, a little self-imposed pressure must be a good thing.
“Gracie, you have a good mind. Give yourself permission to trust it. And those public rooms need to be spotless. Do you hear my words?”
“I hear them.”
****
“Da da da da, da da!” Sam jauntily clicked his heels as he tapped. He gritted his teeth and held his lips in a tight, determined grin as he moved from one foot to the other. Eleanor snapped her fingers and tried to memorize the dance moves.
“Okay, my turn.” She sucked in her cheeks and mimicked his steps, ending with her left heel anchored and her toe smartly up in the air.
He slapped his thigh. “You’re getting it, kid. Hey, I got one more to show you before I start these rice cakes on the griddle. For this one you have to pump your arms back and forth like when you run, but in time with the music, like this. Deedle, deedle dop, do-o-o-wop, dop, yeah! Hands in the air on the yeah, get it, kid?”
“Hands in the air on the yeah. Got it!” Eleanor smashed her tongue through her teeth to concentrate, swung her arms rhythmically, and spread her fingers high above her head on her last step.
“Hands in the air? Let’s put some hands on the food to make lunch,” Isaiah boomed, leaving the swinging kitchen doors slapping behind him.
“Sorry, boss.” Sam grabbed his apron and tied it in the back. “I was just teaching Eleanor here how to tap dance.”
“We’re going to do a number in the staff talent show together,” she bragged as she turned a mixing bowl upside down on her head, “with hats.” She quickly removed the bowl when a handsome man in a bellhop uniform entered. “Do you work for us—I mean my parents?”
“I guess I do. I’m Eric.”
“You must be new or I would have noticed you before.” Eleanor extended her hand as a graceful lady. “Eleanor Woods, p-pleased to meet you.”
Eric shook her hand. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Woods.” Holding herself two inches taller, Eleanor glided toward the kitchen door.
“Hey, kid, what about our dance lesson?” Sam did a twirl and clicked hi
s heels.
“We shall have to finish it another time, Samuel. I have responsibilities of my own to attend to,” she said in her grown-up voice. Discreetly cutting her eyes over to the side, she sized Eric up and down as she left.
“Sam, I have never heard that child sound so grown-up,” Isaiah hooted. “Looks like you have an admirer, Eric. This is Sam, my assistant chef, and I’m Isaiah. Welcome to the Crestmont. You a town boy?”
“Well, my father’s the minister at the Eagles Mere Presbyterian church, but I go to college during the year, so I guess I qualify. Oh, almost forgot, I need five birch beers for guests on the porch, please.”
Sam crooked a finger for Eric to watch, filled one glass with ice, pumped in syrup, and sprayed in the seltzer. “You’re on your own for the rest. We do the food, but you bellhops fix your own drinks, okay?”
“Got it. Thanks.” Eric finished making the sodas and loaded them on a tray. “Nice to meet you fellows.”
Isaiah stuffed four loaves under his arm and grabbed a knife. He skillfully sliced the bread. Adjusting the fire under the grill pan, he grabbed the mayonnaise from the icebox and tossed it to Sam. “I’ll do the grilled cheese and you finish the egg salad.”
Sam nodded as he stood on the other end of the huge work table, fine-dicing onion and celery into a bowl of chopped hard boiled eggs. “Yep, and the fire’s on under the soup. I just have to finish the rice cakes. There’s cut melon in the icebox all set to go. Dorothy already set up the pickle trays.”
Zeke entered, lifted the lid of the soup pot, and sniffed. “Chicken noodle, now that’s a man’s dish. That asparagus stuff you guys make is disgusting.”
“Oh, now you’re a man, huh?”
“Got me a girl, Isaiah. Not just a fling, I’ve got me a real girl. You know Mae, that pretty waitress? I was kind of thinking I might hang around to watch her set up her tables.”
“You’d better stick with this one. You haven’t been exactly on the level with those other girls you dally with.”