“Well, you have your mother’s and my permission to get married.” Papa smiled.
“Oh, Papa.” I cried throwing my arms around him. “Thank you.”
Mama, who had been sitting quietly, now was all business. “Susan, Tom says he has to be in Lewiston on the twelfth of October for a job that’s waiting him. That means we only have a short time to plan a wedding. Your uncle can perform the ceremony, your grandmama can sew your dress, and I’ll make a cake. Do you mind if it’s just family?”
“Oh please, could Avis come too?”
Chapter 19
A Trip to the City
October 11, 1928. The date was set. Just four weeks to put a wedding together! I didn’t want anything fancy. I never liked being the center of attention. I was so “in love” I didn’t realize everything was revolving around me.
Grandmama began sewing immediately. I had my secret, “wedding-dreaming eyes” set on the white satin and French lace at the Reubens general store for a long time. I wanted flapper style with an overdress of white lace tied with a satin belt around the hips. It only needed three measurements—bust, shoulders, and length (which would hit two inches above the knees).
Shoes? Now that was a problem. To order them from the catalogue would take too long. Mama, Papa, and I trekked off to the city of Lewiston to find a pair of white pumps. “Sorry,” the clerk said. “It’s the wrong time of year for white. How about a lovely pair in black satin?”
“Mercy no,” Mama cried. “This is for a wedding. They have to be white.” My mama was standing up for me? Insisting I have the right shoes? Talking back to a stranger? Like the one-time hug, I felt temporarily loved.
The shop owner came out to see what the fuss was. “Can I help?” he asked.
Mama quickly explained the problem. The man scratched his head and disappeared behind a curtain into the back room. We waited. Had he forgotten us? We were about to leave when he emerged holding a pair of white pumps. “Let’s see if these will fit. I put them in storage after they didn’t sell last summer.”
I sat in a chair and removed my Mary Janes. “Of course you’ll need to have silk stockings to wear with these,” he continued. “Just a minute.” Again he disappeared behind the curtain. He returned holding a pair of long, tan, transparent stockings. Never saw anything like them. “Now you must be very careful when you put these on. If you snag the silk, they will run and that doesn’t look pretty.” Run? I had no idea what that meant. Silk? How much did they cost? I looked at Mama and Papa with questioning eyes. Papa nodded. Very carefully I put the fine hose on the foot I’d burned with hot coffee. Even after two years, it was still red, tender, and sensitive to the touch of a shoe. I held my breath. It had to fit. It just had to. I couldn’t go barefoot at my wedding. He took the shoe and expertly slipped it on my foot. Just like the prince with the glass slipper, it was a perfect fit. My prince, Tom, was waiting for me on a farm just outside Reubens. I felt like a queen.
The salesman carefully wrapped the precious stockings and shoes in separate tissue papers, tied them with a string, and I slipped them into my bag. Papa gave him a large bill plus some silver dollars. He never told me how much. He said, “It’s a gift from my heart.”
“Let’s eat lunch at the little cafe next door.” Papa suggested. White shoes, silk stockings, and lunch in a cafe! It was the best day of my life. Well, not the best, but it ranked close to the top.
“I’d like a hotdog, Papa.” Mama looked at me and wrinkled up her nose. She called them store-made meat, not fit for eating. “I love hotdogs. Could I have ice cream too?” Mama nodded her head. We had ice cream about twice a year. When Papa broke the ice on the pond and brought big chunks to pack in the sawdust of the underground ice cellar, we’d save out some of the small pieces to make ice cream. Never had any of the fancy flavors though until Johnny started selling McNess. By the time the ice on the pond was gone, the ice cellar was still cool enough to safely store strawberry pickings and make strawberry ice cream.
In 1928, Lewiston was a busy place with a port, a railroad line, and a large new pine mill. That’s where Tom had his new job. I was all eyes and ears. This was going to be my new home. So many people, so many cars, so much noise—it was exciting! I knew I was going to love it. I also understood that this country girl was looking at big changes in her life.
We ambled up and down the streets of the big city. Being it was a Saturday and past harvest, we ran into people we knew from all over the prairie. Of course, we had to stop and talk. Catching up on the news was the best part of going to any town. Mama and Papa had to spread the news about their daughter getting married. After repeating it at least ten times, the reality of what I was about to do started to sink in. What am I getting myself into?
Chapter 20
What About Edna?
Time flew with much to do. Tom went to Lewiston to find a place for us to live. Mama and I scrubbed the house from top to bottom. Our house wasn’t as big as either of the grandparents’, but you were expected to get married in your folks’ house. We moved most of the furniture out of the sitting room and set up board benches and dining room chairs. Remember, our family would total in the sixties if they all came. Some of my cousins were getting married so that number was rising. Some people were going to have to stand. Good thing it wasn’t going to be a long ceremony. I did get to invite Avis, but she couldn’t come. She was in bed with morning sickness. They were going to have a baby!
It hit my little sister the hardest. “Who’s gonna take care of me? Who’s gonna help me with my homework? Who’s gonna teach me how to embroider and sew? Who’s gonna push me in the swing?” She hounded my steps, bombarding me with question upon question. Every waking moment when not in school, she kept me in her sight. She was ten years old, smart and talented. She wrote great stories and had exceptional artistic talent. One time, she was required to draw the state of Idaho, filling in the main cities and where we lived. Her map was so perfect that the teacher thought she had traced it and tore it up. Mama heard the teacher discussing it on the party line with another parent and immediately pulled her out of school.
“I’m gonna miss you so much,” she said a hundred times a day as she tagged after me. “Can I come live with you? Why do you have to move so far away? Please, please, please stay here with me; don’t go with Tom.”
How was I going to leave my Edna? For ten years she had been the purpose of my life. She had loved me unconditionally. I hadn’t carried her in my body, but she had been the one who kept me steady, giving me the joy of a real purpose in life. I promised over and over, “You can come visit any time. I’ll come and visit you too. We’ll have new things to share with each other.” Heaps of guilt for abandoning her gnawed at my heart.
The day before the wedding, Edna and I sat on the front porch weaving daisy chains. Even though it was feeling like fall, wild daisies still covered the fields. We had gone out early in the morning and picked buckets of them. “Edna, would you like to be my flower girl?”
“Do I get to be in the wedding?” she questioned.
I smiled and thought, It’s important is for her to have good memories of today. “Yes, you will have the important job of throwing flowers in front of me as Papa walks me down to Tom and Uncle Willie.”
“I know what flowers I’ll use,” she exclaimed. “It’ll be a secret.” I was curious but wanted to let her surprise me.
Three hours later the sitting room was draped in pink and white daisy chains. At the far end of the room sat two bouquets of pink and white roses.
Come October 11, Mama spent the morning making applesauce cake, my favorite. It would be served with a drizzle of applesauce over each piece and a big dab of whipped cream on top. The cold drink was made from the leftover McNess fruit punch Johnny sold. The coffee had been perked and was keeping warm on the back of the wood stove in a big metal pot. Even though the wedding wouldn’t start two o’clock,
people started coming a little after noon. Grandparents were the first to arrive so they could lend a hand. Of course Uncle Willie was there to do his preacher duties and pray for us. But there was no Tom. I tried hard not to think about the possibility he might change his mind or maybe he had an accident coming back from Lewiston.
Upstairs, sitting in white satin and lace I felt beautiful, but extremely nervous. I looked around my room. My life would never be the same after today. The room was bare. The precious few things I called my own were packed in a box and a small suitcase, ready for the trip to Lewiston soon after the wedding. These plain wooden walls held memories of tears, sickness, and sadness. Good things too: cousins piled into the room to chatter or stay all night and Edna coming to snuggle in my bed. Wishes and dreams had been born in this small space. The best times? It was here that I learned how to talk to God. It was here I grew as His child. God, go with me no matter where I go. I don’t know where that’s going to be. I’ve just gotta trust you.
Do not be afraid. I’ll go with you, echoed the words I had read. A knock on the door brought me back. I opened it and found Aunt Grace looking fretful. “I think something’s happened to Tom. He’s not come yet. I sent Jim looking for him.”
There was a sharp twist in my stomach. It threatened to upheave the food that I had forgotten to eat. “What time is it?” I asked.
“It’s two fifteen. It’s not like him to be late. I’ll let you know when he gets here. Meanwhile, you pray.” Aunt Grace closed the door. I listened to her heavy shoes clomping down the stairs.
What could I do but pray? I sat on the bed near tears and started talking to God. Where is he, God? Where’s my Tom? This was going to be the best day of my life. Now, I don’t even know where he is. If something’s happened to him, I’ll never come out of my room again. God, please get him here safely.
Cast all your cares on Me. I care for you. I dabbed my eyes and prayed in earnest for the man I was about to marry. Twenty minutes later another knock came.
“He’s here,” Aunt Grace announced. “He had a flat tire.” She hurried back down stairs. I heard the scrape of chairs and voices quieting below. Uncle Willie wound up the phonograph and placed the needle on the recording of the wedding march. Again chairs moved as people stood. I made my way down the stairs, took Papa’s arm, and stepped into the crowded room ready to begin my new life.
Daisy chains lined the walls, the rose bouquets were beautiful; when I looked down at Edna walking in front of us, I laughed out loud. My flower girl was throwing dandelions on everyone in the crowd.
Tom and his best friend, Wendell Kleinsmith, stood between the rose bouquets, next to Uncle Willie. He looked handsome in his brown suit and tan tie in spite of the smudge of dirt on his cheek. There was a frown on his face until he saw me; it turned upside down and his eyes twinkled. At last it was all coming together. We would soon be pronounced Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Albert Chase.
Chapter 21
A New Beginning
It was eight o’clock before Tom and I began pulling ourselves away from the hugs and goodbyes. There were tears of joy and tears of sadness. Papa’s eyes welled up as he gave me a hug and said, “Don’t be a stranger, but remember you belong with your husband now.”
That’s when I couldn’t keep it in any longer. Tears dripped from my nose and chin with small sobs rising from my throat. My champion, my support, my papa. I’d never been away from him more than twenty-four hours. How could I live without my papa to listen to my heart?
As if he had heard my thoughts, he continued, “You’ll learn to share your heart with Tom. He’ll be your hero. Close the Kole book. Your Mrs. Chase book will have new characters with us woven in here and there. We’ll always love you, but can’t go with you. God will always love you and will always be with you.” With that he kissed my forehead as he had so many times in my life to soothe my hurts and turned to hand me off to Tom.
As I took Tom’s arm, we were violently pushed apart by my angry, blond ten-year-old sister. “No!” she yelled. The room hushed. “No, you can’t take my Susie. She’s my sister. She belongs to me.” She threw her arms around me like a vise. I looked at Tom. It was getting late. I was torn. What could I do? I started rubbing her back like every time she was upset and began to sing, “Hush little baby don’t say a word …” The words were broken with sobs from both of us. She relaxed into my arms. “We’ll see each other again soon. I promise.” She nodded. “One last hug?”
The three-hour ride began in silence. I sat looking out the window at nothing because it was already dark. Driving at night on country roads was hazardous. Cattle wander at will, deer cross the road going to the creek, coyotes chase rabbits who waited too long to run to their holes. I felt like Alice, falling into my hole, following the magic white rabbit of my dreams. I had dreamed big, perfect, amazing dreams. Now I was facing real life. I was nervous. Downright scared. What had I gotten myself into?
I glanced over at my husband. Husband? How strange to called Tom my husband? Husband. Husband. I repeated it over and over, trying to convince myself that this was real. It was moonlit enough to see his handsome face, set and serious. What do you suppose he’s thinking? I asked myself. Is he as scared as I am?
I took a deep breath and tried to find my voice, “I’m sorry … about Edna. She did good during the ceremony. It’s hard on her, you know. I’ve taken care of her more than Mama. I’m going to miss her so much.”
We rode on in outstretched silence. Tom finally said, “You’re gonna be a good mama.”
We finally hit pavement. It was safer, but still only wide enough for two cars. At night, few cars were on the road. The car lights didn’t shine far. Tom wasn’t familiar with this route to Lewiston so he drove slower than usual, making sure he saw the curves ahead. He finally spoke again, “Found us a house in Clarkston. Sits on a corner, doesn’t have much yard. It’s white with green trim. Has running water inside, an outhouse close in the back. No furniture yet except a bed.” My head jerked toward him then quickly straight ahead. Horror, fear, and embarrassment flooded my mind. A bed? I was going to get in a bed with a man? My dreams hadn’t included that part of the “perfect” life. What have I gotten myself into?
We arrived in Clarkston after midnight. The back seat of our car was full of gifts from family and supplies from Papa and Mama to help us get started. The quiet after the long ride was deafening. Tom opened my door, and together we walked up to the house on the corner of Eleventh and Bridge Street. He opened the door and lit a match to find the oil lamp on the kitchen counter. Bright light filled the house, giving it an immense look. Our shadows filled the living room walls.
“Wait here,” Tom spoke softly, “I’ll go get our bags.”
While waiting I took a step. The floors creaked. Sounded like home. It had that same “lived in” kind of smell. It needed some calcimine on the walls, but it wasn’t bad.
Tom returned with my suitcase and his bag. “You carry the light.” He led the way to the back room where the bed stood against the wall. “I’ll sleep on the outside. I have to be to work at 7:00 in the morning. You won’t have to get up. I’ll put things from the car in the house before I leave. You can put ’em away tomorrow.” With that he began to pull off his clothes down to his undies. I quickly turned my back, opened my little suitcase, pulled out my warm gown, and slipped into the other room to put it on. Exhaustion overcame us as soon as we hit the lumpy, cold bed.
I never heard him leave in the morning. I woke to the sun shining on my face and total silence except for the occasional car passing. “I’m alone,” I thought. “I don’t know a soul in this place, except Tom. I’m utterly alone.”
I was suddenly impressed with how fortunate I had been to have Papa, Mama, Edna, and yes, even Johnny, all my life. The quiet shouted at me, but I heard a whisper in my mind, I’ll never leave you nor forsake you. “Thank you, Jesus,” I whispered back.
&nbs
p; Chapter 22
Meeting the Family
My first week as Mrs. T. A. Chase was busy with cleaning, putting my own ideas into the house, making sure my husband had a hot breakfast, food in his lunchpail, a good supper, and clean clothes. That’s what a good wife does.
The area was new to both of us. We only had each other for company. Which is just fine when you’re a newlywed. We were in love, but I found myself guarded and private as always. I couldn’t share much with this man I’d only known three months. Would he understand? I kept safe by keeping silent. Tom, although I knew he loved me, was also quiet about anything intimate. Down deep, I think he was also a shy, private person. Two private people trying to become one in marriage; we lived on the edge of questions we were afraid to ask.
I have to admit I was homesick. I missed my papa most of all. He was the one who wisely listened to my thoughts and gave me his understanding heart. My little sister? How could I desert her? My mind still heard her cries as we were about to leave. She depended on me for the first ten years of her life. Who was going to take care of her now I was gone? I was full of guilt and failure. My mind whirled all day long with questions, arguments, and doubts. The biggest of all? Could this man I married ever understand and care about me like Papa and Edna?
I made a resolution. I guess back in that day you’d have called it a promise—a promise to myself and to Tom, although I never shared it with him. I was going to be a perfect wife. Everything I did would be done to please my husband so he would love me like I longed to be loved. I would do all he asked me to do. I would be what he expected me to be. I would never complain. I was letting myself fall back into the same trap of wanting to please Mama, only this time it was my husband. It seemed right and comfortable. I knew how to do this.
A Bridge Named Susan Page 6