A Woman of Independent Means (28 page)

I hope you will give this proposal your full and immediate attention. I look forward to your response.

My best,
Bess

April 18, 1921
Dallas

Dearest Totsie,

How happy you must be—back in Boston as a free woman! Though I know this was a long and difficult winter for you, at least your enforced residence in Nevada allowed us to show you a little Texas hospitality en route.

I trust you are profiting from Arthur's presence in Boston this week. Once you start receiving the increased returns from your reinvested capital, you will again be able to live in the manner to which marriage accustomed you—and still enjoy all the advantages of living alone.

The baby sounds adorable. Two is an exciting, albeit exasperating age, as one enters the world of the spoken word. What a sense of power language instills in anyone not afraid to use it. No child is ever reluctant to employ any word with which he has even a passing acquaintance. It is only as adults that we shrink from employing the full power of our vocabulary.

Arthur must have been enchanted to hear the baby speak his name. He has always treated my children rather like foreigners, addressing them with the utmost courtesy but with no hope of achieving true communication. However, it is undoubtedly easier to make friends with an infant.

I will miss seeing you this summer, but my life has become so centered in Dallas that I have no wish to leave for even a week. I am learning to play tennis. It is a very demanding sport—both in terms of time and energy—but the sense of well-being that follows an afternoon on the courts is unlike anything I have ever experienced.

The man who is undertaking my instruction is an attractive engineer named Sam Garner who recently moved here from Philadelphia. We met at the home of mutual friends, Grace and Frank Townsend. He was married to a doctor who interned with Grace, but I gather he is in the process of getting a divorce. He is a kind and sincere man, despite rather strong views on the subject of professional women, and I see in him a zest for life that matches my own. He has made his own way in the world with great success—and I suspect before long he will make a substantial place for himself in this community.

Has spring arrived in Boston? It is everywhere I turn today. The azaleas have worked their annual alchemy upon the drab banks of Turtle Creek, their beauty doubled by their reflection in its green water. And flowering fruit trees are everywhere, their blossoms promising a harvest that never comes. (I have yet to pick an edible piece of fruit from any tree in any garden I have ever had.) But in this season a promise is cause enough for celebration.

My own garden is in full bloom. I planned it very carefully last fall, but the most spectacular colors this spring have come from the iris which emerged uninvited between my neat rows of tulips. I suppose they were set out according to a careful scheme by some former owner, but now, independent of my design, they appear of their own volition, in wild and glorious profusion. How arrogant we are to think the survival of any life that begins in our shadow depends upon our continuing physical presence. Indeed our shadow too often stands between the new life we create—in whatever form—and the sun's life-giving rays. Like the former owners of this house, would we not do better to go where our lives take us, with no thought to the seeds left planted in the soil we once owned? How can we not rejoice in the knowledge that strangers are now admiring beauty that began with us?

Next Saturday I am having a large afternoon garden party with a string quartet for dancing on the terrace. With the passage of that unfortunate prohibition legislation, invitations to afternoon tea have become increasingly popular here, though the gentlemen always accept in the hope that their hostess will provide an unadvertised beverage of a stronger nature. And any hostess who hopes to provide male dancing partners for her guests will, of course, oblige.

I do wish you could be here to take part in the festivities and then take note of them for the newspaper. I love reading your clippings and envy all the places your job has taken you. You are the only woman I know who can attend parties without having to reciprocate. A single man is always welcome—his mere presence considered payment enough for any invitation he receives. But a woman not only must repay an invitation, she also must attempt to outdo her previous efforts if she hopes to continue on the social circuit. It is indeed exhausting, even for someone who enjoys it as much as I do.

My best to Arthur. How much longer does he plan to be away?

Kiss the baby for me and teach him to say “Bess.” It's surely easier than “Arthur.”

Je t'embrasse,
Bess

May 5, 1921
Dallas

Dear Lydia,

Your letter caught me completely off-guard. I had no idea you and Manning had any interest in buying the farm in Vermont. Have you considered the difficulty in overseeing property located at such a distance from your place of residence? It is not that I have any proprietary interest in the farm. My life is here—at least for now. It just seems like such an impulsive move on your part. Except for the pleasure it will provide, I cannot see that the farm has much potential as an investment. Leasing it for the summer is one thing, but buying quite another.

When will you be leaving? Please keep me informed of your plans so that I may share at least vicariously in the pleasures of your pastoral summer.

Love to you all,
Bess

June 7, 1921
Dallas

Dear Dwight,

It was a surprise to hear from you but nothing compared to the shock of learning from Arthur and Totsie that they plan to be married at the end of the month. Their letter preceded yours by several days but I have yet to answer it, not knowing what to say. I believed with all my heart that Totsie was on her way to an independent life and it was to this end that I introduced her to Arthur. I never dreamed their friendship would even approach the area of marriage. Indeed when they met, I myself was enjoying a rather special relationship with Arthur, but obviously in recent months I have failed to convey to him just how much his friendship meant to me.

It feels strange to be confiding in someone who was the object of so many of the conversations Totsie and I shared last summer. However, I suppose intimacy between two people can be achieved in any number of ways, and events of the past year have brought you and me closer than we ever expected to be. We both have a stake in the decision just made by two people we loved and trusted (or at least
I
loved and trusted both of them), and we must now decide what course of action is still open to each of us.

I never thought you would lose Totsie when she decided to live alone. Indeed I was convinced that once you became accustomed to leading separate lives, your relationship would resume on a more equal footing. But I guess some people are just meant to be married and Totsie clearly falls into that category. If I had known it at the time, I would never have encouraged her to leave home and I certainly would never have introduced her to Arthur, since apparently he belongs in the same category.

I suppose we have no choice now but to broaden our thinking to embrace the two of them as a couple. I realize this will be easier for me than for you since each of them has already earned a place in my affections. Though Totsie will never be your wife again, surely you will choose to keep her as a friend. Please do not allow your pride to add to your loss.

Dear Dwight, try not to be unhappy. You have nothing to gain from despair. But thank you for writing me. Even though your letter began in anger, I felt it ended with the promise of affection, and I am a woman who holds a man to his promises.

In writing you, I have discovered what I want to say to Arthur and Totsie. Thank you for helping me find the words.

My love,
Bess

June 8, 1921
Dallas

Dearest Arthur and Totsie,

I still cannot quite believe that I am writing one letter to the two of you and that from now on, I will not be able to think of one without the other. I look forward to arriving at some new equation which will allow our friendship to flourish.

Does this mean you will be making your home in Dallas? I fervently hope so. Ever since college, I have prayed that one day Totsie and I would be able to share our lives as intimately as we did as schoolgirls. But I never imagined it would be Arthur who would provide us with this opportunity.

I understand your desire for a quiet wedding and I am very touched that you want me to be your witness. Of course I will be there. How could I miss such an occasion?

Manning and Lydia arrived in Vermont last week. They are leasing the farm this summer with an option to buy if the experience proves satisfactory. Your wedding will provide me and the children with just the excuse we needed for crossing the country also. I will leave them at the farm, of course, while I come to Boston for the wedding. Was it just a year ago that the three of us spent such a happy weekend together?

My best to you both,

et je
vous
embrasse,
Bess