The thought that the company cared warmed Hannah, but she had a hard time imagining that writing witty prose would fill her free time. She spotted a smaller room off the main parlor, filled with shelves and books. “What is that room for?”
“That’s the reading room. It’s well stocked, and there’s a literary club that meets on Thursdays at five. The telephone company has provided a place for a container garden on the roof as well, if you enjoy that sort of thing.” She started for the door. “Please feel free to use any of these amenities as long as you are not on the clock.”
A library? Hannah fought the urge to race into the room and examine the volumes. Would they have any of the newest books she’d heard so much about, like Edith Wharton’s Madame de Treymes? Perhaps they’d even have a new bird-watching manual. That would be a treat.
“Miss Gregory, are you coming?” Impatience tinged Miss Frogge’s voice, and Hannah hurried to follow the woman.
The supervisor led her to another room, passed through a set of wide double doors, and spread her arms wide. “This is the cafeteria. Coffee, tea, and bread are provided free of charge. Everything else on the menu is less than five cents, so please do not skip meals. The telephone company says healthy operators are important and less apt to be absent from their posts.”
“I suppose that would be true.” Hannah smiled, hoping to win a bit of favor with her new supervisor.
“Of course it is. If Iowa Telephone says it is so, then it is.” With the brisk pace of someone much younger, Miss Frogge marched from the cafeteria and headed back toward the central exchange.
Hannah hurried to walk beside her. “When do I begin working, Miss Frogge?”
“Our busiest time is between ten and noon. We will need you at your board, but there’s no need to fret, as I will be nearby to instruct you.” She stopped outside the door to the exchange and pointed to a poster on the wall bearing the rules for operators. “You will be given a paper copy of these rules as well, but there are a few I’d like to point out to you right now.”
Hannah glanced at the long list of over a hundred rules and swallowed. Mrs. Reuff had said there were many rules, but she hadn’t done the list justice.
“Do not cross your legs or ankles. Both feet should remain on the floor at all times.” Miss Frogge held up her hand and checked off the rule by touching a long, tapered finger. “There is to be no gum chewing, no tardiness, and no asking to leave early.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t interrupt me.” Miss Frogge glared at her. “There will be no conversing with callers. You are to use only the approved phrases, and local calls should take less than six seconds to complete.”
Hannah only nodded this time, her chest tightening with each new restriction.
“Eyes should be kept forward at all times. There’s no need to glance in the direction of any of the other operators. Your work is in front of you.”
So that explained why no one looked around. At the school, they’d had a similar rule, but she had no idea it would be so strictly adhered to.
Having now used up her first hand, Miss Frogge held up the other to continue. “If you must blow your nose or wipe your brow, raise your hand for permission before you do so.”
Swallowing, Hannah fought the urge to roll her eyes. That was ridiculous. Did they think all of these intelligent young women were children?
“There is to be no union talk. The telephone company treats you well. You have no need of that. And most of all”—Miss Frogge pinned Hannah with her gaze—“there will be no conversing with the other operators while in the exchange. This includes exchanging notes or pictures. I will not tolerate those who do not follow these rules. Do I make myself clear, Miss Gregory?”
A suffocating cloud descended over Hannah. What had she gotten herself into? Maybe her sister was right. Perhaps it was impossible for Hannah to follow these restrictions. Unlike sweet Rosie, it wasn’t in Hannah’s nature to be so compliant. She wanted to argue about the absurdity of it all. Raising your hand to blow your nose or wipe your brow? What were these people thinking?
It wasn’t natural not to look at the person sitting next to you. She wanted to tell Miss Frogge that there were more important things going on in the world than whether a call took longer than the prescribed six seconds.
She should turn around right now and leave. March out that door and back to college where she belonged.
But she couldn’t.
Her sisters needed her.
Like she’d told Lincoln, that time in her life was over, and it was up to her and her alone to see they were taken care of.
She drew in a long breath and dipped her head in a brief nod. “Yes, ma’am. You’ve made yourself quite clear.”
Lincoln had moved too fast and pushed her. His office chair squeaked when he shifted. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to focus on writing Roderick McGowan’s last will and testament, but Hannah’s words from the previous night kept resurfacing in his mind. No, Lincoln, the man said this was for your lady, and I’m afraid that can’t be me.
What was going on in her beautiful mind? Surely ice cream didn’t amount to asking her to be his lady. He’d said nothing about officially courting. Then again, it wasn’t like the idea hadn’t crossed his mind, and Hannah was too smart not to notice his interest. But everything had been going so well. When had the evening taken a hairpin turn?
“So, did you hear? A celebration is in order.” Pete Williams stood before Lincoln’s desk, his thumbs hooked in his suspenders. “It’s not every day I beat Samuel Appleton in court, so I’m going to let you buy me lunch.”
Lincoln chuckled. “I feel so honored.”
Pete leaned closer and tried to read the document on the desk. “What are you working on?”
“The McGowan will.” Lincoln set his fountain pen back in its stand and sighed. “But it’s taking much too long.”
“Really? Writing a will doesn’t usually give you any difficulty.”
“I’m afraid my mind wasn’t on the will. It was on something else.”
Pete lifted his bushy gray eyebrows. “Or maybe someone else?”
“Maybe.”
“Miss Gregory, I presume.” Pete patted his rounded belly. “Come on. Let’s get some food. I’m wasting away even as we speak.”
Bright sunlight greeted them outside the building as they headed toward their favorite downtown café and took their seats. After ordering meatloaf and mashed potatoes, Pete spread his napkin in his lap. “How are things going with the arson case? Are you and the lovely Miss Gregory getting together later to work on her friend’s defense?”
“I doubt it. It’s her first day as a Hello Girl.” Lincoln withdrew his pocket watch and calculated the time. She’d been there for about five hours. The eight-and-a-half-hour shift would leave her exhausted, and then she’d need to see to her sisters. Who was he kidding? She’d made her feelings clear about him.
He tucked the watch back in his pocket. “Besides, I’m not sure she wants to see me.”
“Did you two have a row?”
“No. She’s … reticent.”
“Do you blame her?” Pete lifted his coffee cup to his lips. “She’s fighting to feed her family, and you come rolling up in a brand-new automobile.”
“I suppose it was callous of me.”
“No, it wasn’t, but from what you’ve said, she’s a smart young woman. It probably underscored that she’s not in your social class.”
The words struck him. “Social class doesn’t mean a thing to me.”
“If you want a political career, it probably should.”
Lincoln scowled, and Pete held up his hand. “Don’t get your feathers ruffled. I only want you to think about what you really want.”
“What would you do? Would you put love, or even potential love, above your law practice?”
“Son, you know I would. I’ve been married for over twenty years. I know the value of both coming home to the woma
n I love and having the career I wanted. But I can tell you this. I’d throw my law practice away in a heartbeat for my Elise. Even on her dark days, she makes me happy, and I would do anything for her. Anything in the world.”
“Be careful, or Samuel Appleton might get wind of what a softy you are.” Lincoln paused when the waitress brought their meatloaf-laden plates. “I don’t know why I’m worried about it. Hannah won’t even agree to see me.”
“You’re approaching it all wrong.” Pete scooped up his mashed potatoes. “Love is war, Lincoln.”
“I didn’t say I was in love.”
Waving off his comment with his fork, Pete went on. “You simply need to fill your arsenal with better weapons, develop a battle plan, make allies.”
Lincoln hit the table with his fist. “Pete Williams, you’re a genius!”
19
It didn’t take a genius to know Miss Frogge wasn’t planning to leave Hannah’s side all day. The supervisor hovered above Hannah. With her operator’s set plugged into the special jack at the top of the switchboard, Miss Frogge could listen in on every one of Hannah’s calls.
“Hello, Main.” Hannah tried to put a smile into her voice. “Number, please.”
The man on the other end of the line mumbled, and his words blurred together.
“Three-three-five. Thank you.” Hannah pulled the circuit cord from her board and moved the plug at the end toward the designated jack.
Miss Frogge pushed her hand away. “He said three-three-nine, not three-three-five.”
“No he didn’t. If he did—” Hannah wished the words back immediately.
Yanking the plug from Hannah’s hand, Miss Frogge inserted the plug into the jack for 339. “Ring the call through, Miss Gregory.”
When a sweet woman’s voice came on the line, Hannah flipped her switch.
Seconds later, the light went out, indicating the call was already over.
The customer called back. “What is your problem, girl? You got wax in your ears. I said three-three-five.”
“I apologize.” She pulled out the circuit cord. “Ringing three-three-five. Thank you.”
She glanced up at Miss Frogge, expecting the woman to say she was sorry for her mistake. Instead, she received a scowl. “Eyes back on your board, Miss Gregory.” She adjusted her headset. “And there’s no need to say the word ringing. Unnecessary words simply slow the caller’s service.”
Was an apology unnecessary? And what about unnecessary interventions by the supervisor? Hannah was saved from uttering the retort by another call. “Hello, Main. Number, please.”
Nearly an hour later, Miss Frogge finally stepped away. Hannah lifted her shoulders, trying to ease the tension in them. Her nose itched, but she didn’t dare rub it. Wiggling it, she answered her next call. The frantic caller on the other end made her heart race.
An elderly woman with chest pains needed her doctor.
An emergency call. She could do this. As she’d been trained, she raised her hand and then placed the call to the doctor. The doctor’s nurse answered. He was at another home, and she didn’t know their number. Hannah put a call through to the information operators. They would ring her as soon as the number was found.
“Ma’am?” Hannah tried to raise the caller again. “Ma’am, are you there?”
The elderly woman coughed. “Is the doctor coming?”
“We’re trying to reach him, ma’am.” She glanced at the list of the patrons on her registry and the numbers assigned to them. “I need to confirm you’re Mrs. Ellerbeck.”
“Yes, I’m Katherine.” Her words were weak, strained.
The light indicating the information operator was calling her back lit, and Hannah jumped. “Mrs. Ellerbeck, hold on. I’ll be right back.”
Seconds later, she reached the doctor, who promised to go directly to Mrs. Ellerbeck’s home on Twelfth Street.
“Mrs. Ellerbeck, are you there?”
A moan, but no answer. Hannah’s stomach lurched.
Hannah risked looking at her supervisor, who stood ready to step in and assist if necessary. Surely under these circumstances a little eye-to-eye contact wouldn’t get her in trouble. Miss Frogge motioned with her hand for Hannah to continue.
“Mrs. Ellerbeck, the doctor is on his way. Can you hear me? The doctor is coming.”
The moaning grew fainter and fainter, and Hannah prayed the doctor would make it in time. She started to disconnect the call, but Miss Frogge stopped her.
“Stay on the line until you hear him enter. The operators on each side of you will handle your calls.”
It seemed like an eternity before she heard the sound of the doctor’s voice from inside the home. Her fingers trembling, she disconnected the call. Was the elderly woman all right? How could she have made the connection more quickly? Had she said and done the right things?
Apparently not. Miss Frogge pointed to the door. A relief operator laid her hand on Hannah’s shoulder, and they switched places. Tears formed in the edges of Hannah’s eyes. She’d tried to comfort the woman, and she’d raced to get her help. What else could she have done?
Miss Frogge joined her in the hall and shut the door. “You did well, Miss Gregory. You deserve an extra fifteen minutes after a call like that. Take heart in knowing you quite possibly saved that woman’s life today.”
Quite possibly? The woman had survived, hadn’t she? Hannah sucked in a shaky breath. She would never know the truth.
“The truth is I could use your help.” Lincoln laid a hand on the hood of his Reo Roadster and smiled at Tessa seated behind the steering wheel. If he could secure her and Charlotte’s assistance, courting Hannah might become a reality.
Tessa cocked her head to the side. “Why should I help you? Can’t you get Hannah to like you on your own?”
His brilliant idea of making an alliance with the sisters was beginning to tarnish, and Tessa didn’t appear to want to make this easy. Did obstinacy run in the Gregory family? Negotiating with a roomful of lawyers was easier than this.
“I simply thought we could all help each other.” He flicked a bud casing from the automobile’s windshield. “Hannah doesn’t seem to like leaving you and your sister home alone, and I’d like to spend some time with her, so going on a picnic together works for all of us.”
Tessa caressed the steering wheel. “Except for Hannah if she doesn’t want to be around you.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Did she say that?”
“Naw, she’s almost as moony-eyed about you as Charlotte is about George—but she’d skin me alive if she knew I told you that.” Tessa pretended to make a turn. “But something must be wrong, or you wouldn’t be here trying to get Charlotte and me on your side.”
“I think you’re too smart for your own good.” Lincoln glanced down the sidewalk. “Speaking of Charlotte, where is she? Shouldn’t she be home by now?”
“She’s with Georgie Porgie.”
Lincoln frowned and pulled out his pocket watch. It didn’t take forty-five minutes to walk home from the high school. And didn’t the fictitious Georgie Porgie always kiss the girls and make them cry?
Perhaps he should go check on Hannah’s sister.
“If we help you get Hannah to join us on the picnic, will you let me drive it?”
He gulped. “My automobile?”
“No.” Sarcasm laced her voice. “Your team of six white horses.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course I’m talking about the automobile.”
“Do you honestly think I’ll say yes?”
She shrugged and grinned, her smile a replica of Hannah’s. “I’d settle for a ‘maybe’ or even a ‘someday.’”
His chest rumbled with laughter. “Someday, then.”
She stuck out her hand. “Then you’ve got a deal. I’ll do my best to help you win over Hannah. But just so you know, she’s not that great a prize.”
A picnic?
Hannah still couldn’t believe Lincoln had shown up at the telephone compa
ny with a picnic basket in hand and her sisters perched on the extra seat of his Reo. If both sisters hadn’t been so excited about the adventure he had planned, she might have been able to turn him down.
She stepped out of the automobile, accepted a quilt from Lincoln, and draped it over her arm. A strand of windblown hair tickled her cheek. She shoved it behind her ear as she surveyed Union Park. Tucked against the bank of the Des Moines River, the park sported rolling hills, open spaces, and plenty of oaks, cottonwoods, elms, and maples.
She risked a glance at Lincoln. Dressed in a lightweight suit and straw hat, he seemed ready to enjoy himself, oblivious to the turmoil inside her. He swung the basket as he walked and encouraged Charlotte and Tessa to run ahead and pick out a location for their picnic.
“Lincoln, I meant what I said yesterday.” It wouldn’t be fair to let him have any illusions about today.
“I know you did.” He turned and flashed her a dangerously handsome smile. “But your sisters and I want to celebrate your first day. Don’t spoil this for them, Hannah. And can there be any harm in a little picnic?”
Any harm? From the way her pulse quickened under his gaze, there most certainly could be, but how could she tell him that? Being near him made her palms sweat and her mind grow fuzzy. She yearned to tell him about her day, about the rules, and about Miss Frogge and the emergency, but she mustn’t let herself turn to him. They were in different social classes, but it was more than that. She’d given this matter a great deal of thought last night—nearly half a night’s worth of thinking. Leaning on Lincoln for support would be too easy. He was physically, intellectually, and spiritually strong, and she was so weary of carrying the load of responsibility alone. If she turned to him one more time, she might not be able to stop—ever.
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