“I always loved you too,” he said. He held my gaze. I saw the love and kindness in his eyes that I’d always seen in him, and I fought a mounting desire to rush to him, to be held in his arms, but I couldn’t assume I would be welcome.
“Where are you going?” he asked quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“You said you had to see me before you left, where are you going?”
I nodded, forgetting for a moment that I was supposed to be leaving in just a few days. “I’m going to Europe to tour with Alberto, I don’t know for how long. The theaters and clubs are going dark in New York. I’m lucky to have this chance.” I wanted to tell him that I didn’t feel lucky, that I didn’t want to go, and now that I was by his side I didn’t want to leave.
“I’m going to save all the money I make, and I’m going to send it back to Addie. My father thinks he’s not going to have a job. I don’t know what else to do—I’m sleeping in the dressing room at the Three Hundred Club, I can’t take her there.”
Archie stood and walked to the buffet. He poured a bourbon and offered it to me. I shook my head; I wanted to keep my wits about me. He took his drink and walked outside and stood at the firepit for a good ten minutes. It felt like an eternity. I wanted to follow him outside, ask him if he could ever forgive me for lying, for hurting him. I wanted to ask what he thought of me now, but I forced myself to stay seated.
I had said what I came to say. I had been honest at last, but if he wanted me to leave now, I didn’t know what I would do.
“Do you want to be a mother?” he asked, walking back inside.
“More than anything in the world.”
“Then you must be her mother. No matter what. And you can’t wait. She’s your daughter. Olive, when I said I wanted a family…” He shook his head and rubbed his forehead. “When I suggested that we have children of our own, it was because I was so damned in love with you. I’d never felt love quite like that before. I wanted to share it, I wanted everyone to see it, I wanted it to grow. Being with you made me feel like I could do anything. I could imagine us having a family, but that didn’t mean it was the only thing I wanted. I wanted you, and I wanted whatever came next in our life together.”
How could I have underestimated his kindness, his capacity for love?
“You should have told me the truth,” he said.
“I know.” I looked up at him. He was right, of course, but there was something I wanted the truth about, too. “What happened with Louise?”
He shook his head. “I went back home to Cincinnati and, I don’t know, I was so lost, so confused. The whole idea of her was thrust upon me all over again, especially by my mother. She didn’t care about my grief, she just wanted to keep up appearances.”
“Why did you agree to it?”
“I was ashamed, I was spinning. The things you said to me came out of nowhere. I was broken. I wouldn’t have married her once I came to my senses, I would have told her, but she got there first as soon as she heard the news about the stock market.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“No, please, it was a relief. I should have had my head on straight. I was just so devastated about you, about us. But Olive, I have nothing now. I’ve lost a lot of money in the market, maybe all of it. I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know if I’ll get any of it back, or if I’ll be able to rebuild what I built before. The fact is, my fortune is gone. I’ve been knocked sideways this past week, hell, this past year. I don’t know what’s up and what’s down. But what I do know is that I love you, I never stopped loving you, and I know you’d make a damned good mother.”
I stood up, overcome with emotion. He walked toward me, took my hands and held them in his. I felt weak at his touch, the familiarity, the comfort.
“We could be a family, Olive,” he said. “If that’s what you want.”
My heart was beating so fast I could barely get my words out. “But I can’t give you children of your own, Archie, you need to understand that.”
“That doesn’t matter. We’ll go and get your daughter, and we’ll be together. No one, certainly not your parents, can tell you otherwise.”
Tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t believe the words I was hearing. I threw myself into his arms.
“And I should never have asked you to give up performing. That was a mistake. You were born to perform, your voice is meant to sing. We’ll go and get Addie, and we’ll go to Europe as a family,” he said. “We’ll be together as we always should have been.”
I looked up at him and I kissed him. Archie loved me, I knew that now. But more than that, he understood me in a way that no one ever had.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
We didn’t call, didn’t send a telegram, we just packed up Archie’s trunk and scrambled to get to Brooklyn as fast as we could. We took his private railcar—its final run, he predicted—then went directly to my parents’ house in Flatbush. If we were to board the ship to Southampton, we were going to have to move fast.
We arrived around ten A.M. after traveling all night, and we must have been a sorry sight. I was wearing the same clothes I’d worn for the past three days, but that was the furthest thing from my mind.
Archie held my hand as we walked to the front door.
“Olive!” my brother Junior cried, and threw his arms around me.
“I’ve missed you,” I said. I hadn’t seen him since summer, over five months ago, and he seemed taller somehow. His eyes flashed to Archie.
“How are you?” Archie said, shaking his hand.
“It’s swell to see you both.” He looked genuinely happy. “They’re in the back,” he said with a slight roll of his eyes. “Pop’s on the horn. He’s having a tough time of things,” he added in a whisper.
My mother was bent over the dining room table wearing a thin flannel robe, writing feverishly in a notebook, and I could hear my father on the telephone in the next room.
She looked up, shocked to see us standing together. “Archie,” she said, rising to her feet, holding the table. “What an unexpected surprise.”
My father’s voice went quiet in the next room, then the phone clinked as he set it down. A moment later he stood at the door, looking thinner than usual and a little grey in the face.
“Hello, Papa,” I said.
His eyes darted from me to Archie. “What’s going on?”
“A lot, Mr. McCormick,” Archie said politely, breaking the ice and sparing me the need to respond. “We’d like to have a chat. May we sit?” My father nodded and pulled up a chair for each of us. “Olive has told me everything,” Archie continued. “About the past, the child, everything is out in the open now, and we’ve decided to reconcile.”
My parents stared at us.
“We’re going to marry the first chance we get,” Archie went on. “And…” He looked to me.
“And Archie and I are going to raise Addie together, we’ll be her parents.”
They turned, looking at me as if I’d spoken in another language. But there was something desperate in their eyes, in their effort to keep up.
“I am her mother, after all.”
My brother had taken a seat in the corner. “Um, should I go and get George?”
“Yes,” my mother said. “No, no, stay where you are.”
I waited for someone to protest, and I was ready to fight back, my heart was beating fast. No one said a word.
“We’re leaving for Europe this afternoon, in fact our ship sails at four P.M.,” Archie said gently. “Olive has an excellent opportunity to appear in concert with Alberto Ricci. He invited her and wants to introduce her to his audience there. It’ll be grand.”
He was singing my praises, and I loved him for it. But my head was about to burst, and my heart raced while I waited for them to respond to what I’d proposed. I looked around, but there was no sign of Addie. “And we’ll be taking Addie with us,” I repeated, in case they hadn’t grasped what I was saying. When
I spoke, my mouth went dry.
“You’re going to sing with Alberto Ricci!” Junior whistled. I gave him a quick smile, then looked back to my parents, trying to gauge their next move. Still no one said anything.
“Where is Addie?” I asked.
“She’s in her room,” my mother said absently. “Your room.”
“Why?” And then, without waiting for a response, “I’d like to see her.”
My mother nodded blankly, so I set my handbag down on the side table, took off my cardigan and walked up the stairs.
The door was ajar and I could hear her singing as I walked across the hallway. I peeked inside. She was sitting up in a small cot with raised sides, playing with her dolls. She looked up at me.
“Hello, Addie,” I said softly. She immediately stood and reached her arms up. “Would you like to come out of there?” I asked, picking her up, sitting her on my hip. She felt slightly heavier than she had in Rockville. “I’m so happy to see you, sweetheart, do you remember me?”
She nodded.
“Oh good! Because I’ve been thinking about you so often, and I was very excited to see you again. There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to, he’s downstairs. Would you like to go downstairs and see the others?”
She nodded again. “Dolls,” she said, pointing at them in her cot.
“Of course,” I said, reaching for them. “They should come too.”
As I walked down the stairs with Addie and her dolls in my arms, I could hear my father’s voice—not shouting, but elevated, agitated—coming from the dining room. My mother was joining in, and Archie was part of the conversation.
“Everything is gone, we’re ruined,” my father said.
“We can’t even stay here,” my mother chimed in. “We’re finally settled, and the house is decorated, the boys are happy, and we have to pack up and head back to Minnesota with our tail between our legs.”
“With our tail between our legs, that’s right—and it’s all my fault, I suppose?” my father snapped.
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“I’m going to be out of a job, Doris.”
“I know, I know.”
“You don’t know the extent of it yet,” Archie said. “The market’s still moving, it could make an upward swing, we’ve got to let things play out.”
“You don’t believe that,” my father retorted. “I know you don’t.”
I turned away from the dining room and walked toward the kitchen instead. Addie didn’t need to hear this.
“I bet your dolls are hungry,” I said. “Should we have a tea party?”
Her eyes widened and she grinned.
“I’ll make us some tea and sandwiches, and why don’t you decide where we should all sit,” I said.
She sat the dolls and one bear carefully in chairs next to her at the kitchen table, propping them up and reaching across to switch which doll sat next to her more than once. As I set out teacups and small plates, she arranged them in front of her dolls.
“Maria and Sophie and Teddy,” she named them all. “And Addie…” She pointed to herself. “And”—she pointed to me and hesitated—“and you.”
“Oh, I’m Olive,” I said. “But you can call me whatever you like.”
She nodded uncertainly. “Ol-live,” she repeated, struggling a little with the “l” sound. Then she began again, pointing to each in turn, “Maria and Sophie and Teddy and Addie and…” She sighed, then pointed to me and said, “You be the mommy.” She seemed pleased with her idea, poured some imaginary tea into a cup and held it up to her doll’s mouth.
“Oh,” I said. She was only playing, of course, but it made me catch my breath. “I would love that,” I said, trying not to react with too much enthusiasm.
Archie walked into the kitchen as I pretended to feed the dolls and Addie nibbled on a sandwich.
“Is there room for one more?” he asked, crouching down at the table.
“Yes,” she said.
“You must be the little Addie that I’ve been hearing so much about,” he said, and she nodded back proudly. “My name is Archie.”
She watched him, her small feet swinging back and forth beneath the table, then she slid a teacup toward him.
“What a wonderful hostess,” he said, picking it up and pretending to take a sip. “You are just the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever seen in my whole life. And wow”—he looked from me to Addie with such a look of love that it brought tears to my eyes—“you look just like each other.”
She smiled bashfully, but I could tell she was enjoying his attention, the dolls, the party we were having.
“And these are some very lucky dolls to have such a nice lunch with you both.”
“A tea party,” she corrected him.
“A tea party, of course. Well, later this afternoon I’m hoping the three of us will get to go on a big boat, and I’ve heard that they have the most wonderful tea parties with dancing and music. Would you like that?”
She clapped her hands.
Archie stood up and squeezed my shoulder.
“Go outside?” Addie asked, jumping down from her seat at the table, taking Archie’s hand and pulling him toward the back door.
“Sure thing.” He laughed. “I’ve never seen the backyard.” He looked back at me and smiled.
* * *
My mother was still scribbling in her notebook when I reentered the dining room. It was strange and unsettling to see her so distant.
“Is everything all right, Mother?” I asked, looking over her shoulder to see what she was writing. It was a list of items from the house.
“No, Olive, it’s not—nothing is all right. Haven’t you read the papers, don’t you know what’s going on?”
“Of course I have.” I sat down next to her. “I know that you’ve suffered a great financial loss, you told me when we spoke on the phone, but…”
“But what?” She looked at me, exasperated.
“Well,” I said hesitantly, “it’s only money.”
“It’s our life, Olive, it’s fallen apart overnight.”
“I know that feeling,” I said.
We sat there in silence for a while. She rubbed her temples.
“You were right about Adeline,” my mother said abruptly. “The girl needs her mother. I thought I could do it, but it’s not ideal, not like this. And I was wrong about you. You’ve been good with her. You’re going to be fine.”
Hearing her words, I was finally able to breathe. I felt my shoulders drop, relax a little. I hadn’t been aware that I’d been so tense. I wished she could tell me that I’d be a capable mother, a good mother, but she couldn’t know that any more than I could. I’d settle for fine.
“I haven’t always made it easy for you, and I’m sorry for that,” I said. I didn’t agree with all the things she’d said and done, but looking at her now, tired, somewhat defeated, I believed she’d always done what she thought was best. “Truly, Mother, I’m sorry for all I’ve put you through.”
She looked at me and nodded. She looked grateful, grateful perhaps that I was acknowledging this. “You’ve always had an urgency in you, a desire to do things your own way. You’ve always known what you wanted, and you’ve gone after it. I have to admit, I never understood that about you.”
“I don’t know that I’ve always understood it either,” I said. “I know that I’ve made some bad decisions, but looking back on my life now, I don’t know that I’d do it any other way. If I’d done things differently, I wouldn’t have Addie, and I wouldn’t have Archie.”
She stood up, wrapped her old robe around her and patted my hand. “I wish only the best for the three of you,” she said.
It was past noon. We still had to pack up Addie’s things, get back to the city, collect my belongings from the club, buy Archie and Addie a ticket and board the liner before four P.M.
In the bedroom, as we collected the last of Addie’s dolls, my mother surprised me. She bent down next to
Addie and smoothed her hair away from her face, “You’re going on an adventure, dear. Olive and Archie will take good care of you.” She kissed her head and stood back up, pulled a hankie from her sleeve and blew her nose. “You’ll have fun.”
Addie seemed quite excited by all of it. I knew that at some point I owed her an explanation. I didn’t know yet how much to tell her, or when she’d need to know, but right then all we had to do was get to the harbor.
We piled into a taxi, and my mother and brothers stood at the door to wave us off.
My father walked to the driver’s window and tipped the man. “Drive safe,” he said. “Wait for them while they collect their trunk, and for goodness sake, get them to that ship on time.”
“Everything will work out, Papa,” I said.
“Oh, don’t you worry about us, we’ll be all right.” He leaned in through the window and squeezed my hand. “It takes courage to do what you’re doing,” he said into my ear. “I’m proud of you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
We rushed on board the RMS Olympic in the final hour after quickly changing our clothes in the back room of the 300 Club, stuffing the last of my belongings into my trunk and transporting it all, along with Addie’s rocking horse, to the ship with only minutes to spare. Archie suspected that we’d have no problem finding extra tickets because some people had chosen not to travel, given the new financial situation unfolding.
It was an enormous ocean liner, 882 feet long according to the steward, who showed us to our suite, with almost three thousand people on board, including the passengers, officers and crew. I looked around, admiring every element of our new surroundings, the carved oak writing desk, the ornate marble fireplace, the wrought-iron beds and embroidered linens. I wanted to remember every detail of this moment as we prepared to set sail.
“Do hurry back up to the promenade deck as soon as you can,” the steward said once our luggage had been delivered. “We depart at four P.M. sharp, and everyone always wants a chance to say goodbye. We won’t be seeing land again for five and a half days.”
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