“Maybe.” Daniel took another sip of his coffee, apprehension growing in his stomach. Her father’s struggle felt all too familiar to him. “But alcoholics will find a way to feed their desires. He has to want to change, and then if he can get into a hospital program—”
Laurie’s eyes grew wide. “Hospital program? What would people say?”
“No one would need to know. You could say he was there for some other reason.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. It would be hard to get him to agree.” She shifted on her stool. “Of course it might be easier if you and Johnny would let him sober up a bit, first.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Your booze is every bit as bad as Johnny’s.”
“It’s not my booze.” The jab cut deep. “And I don’t write the prescriptions.”
She stared into her cup. “You fill them.”
Daniel stuck his hand in his pocket, reaching for the temperance coin. “It’s my grandfather’s decision, not mine.”
Laurie’s shoulders sank and her eyes fixed on her fingers folded in front of her.
Daniel felt like crawling under the counter. He reached for her again, desperate to bring the light back to her face. “I’ll speak to my grandfather. Maybe we can come up with some ideas.”
She pressed fingers against her lips, eyes glistening. “Thank you.”
When the door jingled, Daniel reluctantly drew his hand away. The customers—two older women—smiled and waved before walking in the direction of the pharmacy counter. Granddad appeared from the back room to greet them.
Daniel leaned close. “What time are you off tonight?”
A smile twitched on her lips. “Six o’clock.”
“Care for another evening stroll?”
She slid from her stool. “I don’t know. I hear there are a lot of dangerous types hanging about.”
He puffed out his chest. “I’d keep you safe. I’m quite the brawler, you know.”
She laughed. “How could I resist such an offer?”
Daniel watched, in a trance, as she walked to the door and cast a final smile at him over her shoulder.
Port Angeles is looking a little finer every day.
34
Amelia dropped down onto the porch swing. “You agreed to see Samuel again? Why would you do that?”
Laurie pressed her lips into a firm line. “I don’t know. I didn’t think I had a choice at the time. He insinuated that he wouldn’t let Daniel go unless I agreed. Every time I get near Samuel, it’s like I’m a puppet, responding to his every whim.”
Amelia gripped her arm. “That’s exactly why you shouldn’t be seeing him.”
“I promised.”
“Did you tell Daniel or Johnny about this agreement?”
Laurie lifted her head. “Are you kidding?”
Amelia hopped up and paced a quick circle around the porch. “I’ll go with you. He didn’t say you had to go alone, did he?”
“No, but . . . ”
Amelia raised an eyebrow. “Shall we bring Johnny, too? Or Daniel?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Then it will have to be me.”
“Amelia, I don’t know.” Laurie pushed against the ground with her foot, setting the swing into motion.
Amelia reached out and grasped one of the metal chains, sending the swing lurching sideways. “Why tell me if you don’t want my help?”
“I’m tired of keeping secrets. Of doing things my way.”
“I’m your friend. It’s good to rely on others sometimes. Let me help with this one.” Amelia sank down next to her, her leg pressing up against Laurie’s. “Besides, if you don’t let me come, I’m walking into the house and telephoning Johnny. You’re not going out with that man by yourself. I don’t trust him any further than I could throw him.”
A laugh bubbled up from somewhere deep within Laurie’s chest. “Weren’t you the one insisting he had a ‘delicious smile’?”
Her friend wrinkled her nose. “I’ve changed my mind. It’s more of an oily smile, if you ask me.”
Laurie sat back. “I just wish there was one man that I could trust like I do you, Amelia.”
Amelia’s lips turned upward. “What about Daniel?”
Laurie’s heart skipped. “Maybe.” She folded her hands in her lap, squeezing her fingers together. “I hope so.”
“You’re just not used to trusting anyone. Men, especially.” Amelia pushed up and stood in front of Laurie. “Now, what does one wear to go to dinner with a G-man?”
A few hours later, the pair sat in Laurie’s bedroom. Amelia added a feathered hairpiece to Laurie’s bob. “What do you think?” she asked.
Laurie turned her head, looking sideways at the mirror, the ornament swaying with the movement. “It’s ridiculous.”
“Nonsense.” Amelia patted the adornment, tucking a few bobby pins in to secure it. “You’ll be the most stylish woman in the room. And with a few more of these, it’ll stay put even if you do the Charleston all night long.”
Laurie grabbed her arm. “Amelia, I won’t be—”
“I’m just kidding. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything more to you tonight.” She reached up and pinched her own finger waves into position as her cranberry-colored lips turned downward. “We shouldn’t fuss too much. It’s only Samuel Brown, after all.” Her chin twitched. “Now, if it were Daniel, I’d really want to work on your look.”
Laurie pushed down the misgivings rising in her stomach as the pair made their way to the front room. “I wish it were Daniel.”
Amelia peeked out the window. “I don’t understand why you’re so nervous.” Her tapping foot revealed her own emotional status.
Laurie sank down onto the armrest of the sofa. “I know what men can be like when they don’t get their way.”
The sound of a motor drew both of their eyes back to the window. The highly polished automobile crunched up the gravel driveway. Laurie’s heart capered around in her chest as she watched Samuel check his reflection in the car’s side mirror before turning toward the house.
Laurie touched Amelia’s arm, drawing her away from the window. “Just as we planned, now.” She turned the knob and opened the door before Samuel could reach the porch. Laurie stepped outside. “Hello, Samuel.”
“Hello, Sunshine.” He whistled as he walked toward her. “You are gorgeous.”
She was completely over his compliments. “I have a surprise for you.”
He pushed his hat back, gazing up at her with a sly smile. “Well, now. Is that right?” He spread his arms. “And I didn’t even bring flowers.”
She cleared her throat. “My friend Amelia stopped by earlier this evening. My brother—the clod—stood her up tonight. She was feeling pretty low, so I invited her to join us.” Laurie did her best to flutter her eyelashes innocently. “I knew you wouldn’t mind.”
Samuel’s expression faltered as Amelia stepped out, joining Laurie on the porch. “Mr. Brown, I told Laurie how I hated to intrude on your evening.”
Laurie hurried down the steps and touched Samuel’s sleeve. “It wouldn’t be right to leave her alone, Samuel. You understand, don’t you?”
Samuel’s jaw tightened, making his cheek twitch. “Of course. Miss White, please join us.”
Amelia descended the creaky steps. “I hate to be a bother.”
Laurie grabbed her arm and squeezed it, casting a bright smile in Samuel’s direction. “You could never be a bother.”
Samuel stood rigid, but after a few heartbeats a forced smile appeared. “Two lovely ladies in one evening? Who am I to complain?” He held out an arm to each of them and escorted them to the waiting vehicle.
Samuel held open the door and visibly glowered as Amelia slid into the center seat. He grasped Laurie’s arm as she headed for the door. “Don’t think I can’t see what you’re doing.”
Laurie legs trembled. She stepped into the Studebaker, heart pounding.
> Daniel’s eyes burned as he dug through the wreckage of their files, sorting the papers into piles. He tried not to imagine all the ways he’d like to see Brown suffer for causing this mess.
He lifted a faded slip of paper closer to his face so he could read the name and year. “Burke, Lucinda. 1916.” His skin crawled—Laurie’s mother? He scanned it, a lengthy list of medications. It stopped abruptly on April 16.
Daniel lowered the paper to the table, rubbing his fingers over his temples. Where was God’s hand in all of this? Should one woman’s death derail a family forever?
Daniel lifted the paper and dropped it into the appropriate stack before turning and gazing at the cabinet on the opposite wall. He’d already reorganized the current standing prescriptions. One in particular remained in his thoughts.
Could he help a grieving man take the first step toward recovery? God, I’m going to need your help on this one.
Laurie settled into the chair across the table from Amelia and examined the fine tablecloth, polished silver, and crystal water glasses. Her friend’s eyes shimmered as she gazed around at the lush décor.
“I hope you approve,” Samuel said, one brow raised. “Tonight is the grand opening. It was a challenge to get a reservation for two, much less three.” He shifted his gaze to Amelia.
She bowed her head. “I’m sorry my presence is such a nuisance.”
Laurie watched as the waiter poured a cascade of ice water into her glass. “I’m glad you’re here. You appreciate this sort of atmosphere much more than me.” She turned to Samuel. “I’m really a simple girl at heart. You already know that I’d just as soon walk by the water as dine in a fine restaurant.”
He raised his water glass, the facets in the crystal catching the sparkling light from the chandelier. “A woman of your beauty deserves elegance, Laurie. It’s time for you to see what you’re missing.”
Laurie turned her head, admiring the modern artwork hanging on the wall behind her. “It is lovely. I would imagine this sort of restaurant in Paris or London, not Port Angeles.”
Samuel scooted his chair closer to the table. “Actually, this is rather a cheap imitation of my favorite restaurant in Seattle.”
She choked on her sip of water. “Cheap imitation?”
He gazed around, the light reflecting in his green eyes. “Yes. Sort of like a second-rate wine instead of quality champagne.”
“Interesting talk from a Prohibition agent.” Amelia raised her eyebrows.
A smile creased his face. “My job pays the bills, Miss White. It doesn’t prevent me from enjoying life.”
Laurie glanced around at the stylishly dressed men and women at the nearby tables—many in evening gowns and tuxedos. It was difficult to believe Seattle had fancier restaurants than this one. She tucked her hair behind her ear and focused on sitting up straight.
The meal passed in a flurry of courses. The waiters whisked away plates, bringing ever-finer arrangements of fruits, vegetables, meats, and breads.
Samuel and Amelia seemed to understand their role in the elaborate dance—taking only bites and tastes from each dish rather than finishing anything. Laurie marveled as each new flavor exploded on her palate. Concerned for the feelings of the chef, she continued to force food into her mouth far beyond the point of discomfort.
When dessert arrived, Laurie fluttered a hand to her mouth. “There’s more? I couldn’t possibly—”
“Ah, but wait, Mademoiselle . . . ” The waiter leaned over the dish with a gleam in his eye.
With the strike of a long wooden match, the syrup-drenched cherries burst into flame. Laurie jumped from her chair, knocking her water glass onto its side.
Samuel laughed, pressing his napkin to his mouth. “Laurie, Laurie . . . it’s so much fun seeing all of this through your eyes.”
She lowered herself back into her chair as the waiter made quick work of the wet tablecloth. The flames dwindled, their heat taking residence beneath her collar. Once the waiter moved away, she leaned close to Samuel. “Pardon my ignorance, but why did he do that?”
Samuel chuckled. “Purely for the spectacle, my dear. I’m told it adds to the taste, though I have to admit, I’ve never really noticed.”
Amelia spoke in low tones. “Perhaps they just like to watch their customers jump. Such excitement—my heart is still pounding.” She fluttered her hand in front of her face.
Samuel smiled. “Then the whole night was worthwhile. I’m pleased to be able to bring a little excitement to your lives, ladies.”
Laurie sat back. I could use a little less excitement in my life. She lifted her fork and made an act of stirring the cherries around on her plate, but her mouth refused to take a bite. Even the sight of the glistening fruit agitated her sour stomach. She held the fork aloft and gazed at the view outside the enormous windows. The city lights reflected off the waves, matched by a few flickers from the distant Victoria harbor. She imagined Johnny and his buddies leaning on their oars, negotiating the treacherous waters and ducking the Coast Guard, all for a few dollars. And here sat Samuel—spending a ridiculous sum on food that none of them could even fathom finishing.
“How does it work?” Amelia frowned. “How come the cherries don’t burn?”
Samuel leaned forward, speaking in hushed tones, “They’re coated in brandy.”
Laurie dropped her fork and it clattered against the china plate. “What?”
Samuel sat up and straightened his ascot. “Just a touch, and it burns off.”
“But, what about—”
He waved a dismissive hand. “It’s taken care of. They feed us a wonderful dinner; I look the other way. Everyone wins.” He shrugged. “They’re not doing any harm.”
Laurie pushed the plate away, the taste turning bitter in her mouth.
Everyone wins.
35
Thank you,” Laurie finished her call before turning to Mr. Quinn, fidgeting nearby. The man didn’t usually hesitate.
“We have a problem.” Mr. Quinn cleared his throat noisily before gesturing toward the door. “Your father.”
Sweat broke out between her shoulder blades. She pulled off the headset, yanking at the wire when it wedged on a button on her dress. The other operators kept their faces fixed on their stations.
Dad’s voice carried through the hushed room. “I need to see my daughter. Laurie?”
With a few rapid movements, she shut down her station, the tempo of her heart quickening with every lost second. “I’ll take care of it, Mr. Quinn.”
“See that you do.” His lips puckered.
Laurie intercepted her father at the door, steering him away from the entrance and back to the sidewalk. “Dad, what are you doing here? What’s wrong?”
He pushed against her hand. “Stop dragging me, girl.”
“You can’t be here. I’m working. Why aren’t you?” Her mind rushed to fill in the possible answers.
Her father shook his head. “The boss-man sent me home. He said I was working too slow.” He dragged his hand over his face as if pulling off a mask. “Said to come back tonight and work a double-shift.”
Laurie’s chest squeezed. “Too slow?”
He shrugged. “I’m dragging. What can I say? I just need to get a drink or two and I’ll be fine.”
She ground her toe into the sidewalk. That’s the last thing you need. “So why are you here?”
“I can’t find your brother. Do you know where he is?”
She rubbed a hand over her cramping neck muscles, staring up at the clouds in frustration. “Wasn’t he at work today, either?”
“He’s been on late shift. But he’s not home right now. I thought you might know where he loafs around.”
Laurie crossed her arms and stared at her father. “I don’t know where he is. Why don’t you go home and get a bite to eat, instead.”
He glowered at her. “I don’t want a bite. I want a drink.”
“I can’t help you.”
Her father turned and
stormed off.
She exhaled, the weight of her day blowing out with her breath. The sun beat down, warming the sidewalk. She turned back to the exchange and braced herself for Mr. Quinn’s disapproving stare.
Daniel glanced out from the storeroom door when the front door jingled, a jolt of surprise rushing through him. Laurie’s father? He didn’t remember ever seeing the man in town before. He closed the wooden box and returned it to its spot on the shelf.
Daniel strode toward the front of the store. “Mr. Burke. Such a pleasure to see you. Is there anything I can help you find?”
Ray stood just inside the door, glancing around with wide eyes. “You’ve changed things.”
“Yes sir. My grandfather has made quite a few changes in the past year. You haven’t visited the soda fountain since it opened?”
The man took off his cap and ran a hand through his thinning hair. “No. I . . . uh . . . I don’t come into town much. I work long hours. Laurie runs most of my errands.”
Daniel smiled. “I’m pleased that you stopped by. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get Marcie to whip you up something.”
Ray ambled forward and frowned at the cherry-red stools. “I ain’t never been to a soda fountain.”
Daniel stepped behind the counter. “They’ve grown pretty popular lately—Prohibition’s answer to the neighborhood bar, I suppose.”
Laurie’s dad scuffed a foot on the tiles. “Yeah. I see. So, what you got?”
“We’ve got all kinds of soft drinks. Ice creams sodas, phosphates, egg creams—just about whatever you could want.” Pride crept into Daniel’s voice.
“Whatever I could want, eh?” Ray snorted, but lowered himself to a seat. “I don’t think so.”
Daniel let the comment roll off the counter. “Most anything. What do you fancy?”
Ray’s eyes glazed over. “Don’t rightly know. What do you suggest?”
“Laurie is particularly fond of egg creams.”
Her father rested an elbow on the counter. “Is she now? She comes in here often, then?” His eyes—so like his daughter’s—stared directly at Daniel.
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