Crestmont (30 page)

The Stephen Foster songs were easy on Gracie’s ears. Her cares and worries dropped away. In the Schubert section that followed, Gracie seemed to understand the words even though she didn’t speak German, because of the ever changing expressions on
Rosa
’s face.

After intermission, the experience was transformed. A woman in the front row shouted “Brava” when the singer returned in The Ponselle, prompting numerous other cries of acclamation. Miss Ponselle sang the opera arias she loved. Her sound was so powerful and resonant that a pulsation vibrated against Gracie’s eardrums. The depth of the music communicated warmth that stroked her heart like soft velvet. Gracie searched the audience. When she saw Mrs. Woods, her eyes were closed and her face was peaceful as if she were lifted out of herself.

After the final vibrant high note of the encore subsided, the audience leapt to their feet in thunderous applause. Gracie pulled herself up from the back of her neck to better see her friend bowing next to the piano.

“You carry yourself differently,” Eric noticed.

“Just a little trick Miss Ponselle taught me.”

“May I walk you back to your dorm?”

“I have to help Miss Ponselle. I’ve been a kind of companion to her since she arrived.”

“I’m sure you have been a kind companion to her. Another time, then?”

Gracie nodded. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed PT. He scowled at her and stalked off down the back stairs.

III

Gracie overslept the morning after the concert. When she
woke
,
she scrambled to get dressed so she could say goodbye to
Rosa
. The sound of a vacuuming machine coming from the end of the east wing gave her a bad feeling.

“
Yer
bosom buddy checked out,” Bessie said, leaving
Rosa
’s room with her cleaning supplies in hand.

Crestfallen, Gracie found Mrs. Woods at the checkout desk, surrounded by guests. Awaiting her turn, she nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Mrs. Woods gave her a pained look as the last guest lingered, recounting a story about her husband’s croquette match. Finally, they were alone.

“Unfortunately for you, Gracie, Miss Ponselle’s driver arrived early this morning. She has a concert in
Pittsburgh
tomorrow and wanted to get on the road early.” Mrs. Woods pulled out a parcel wrapped in brown paper from under the desk. A letter was attached. “She left this for you.”

Dearest Gracie,

You were most gracious to me during my stay at the
Crestmont
. I leave you this token of my appreciation. I enjoyed teaching you a bit about singing. Remember you will touch people the most when you sing what is meaningful to you.

Affectionately,

Rosa Ponselle

Gracie gave Mrs. Woods the note to read and carefully opened the package. Her hand flew to her throat when she saw light teal silk.

“Oh, Mrs. Woods, I can’t accept this.”

“Of course you can. She obviously wanted you to have it.” Mrs. Woods rested her elbows on the desk gazing at the empty lobby. “Everyone’s checked out. Try it on. Go ahead; you can use the green room.” Mrs. Woods handed her the key.

“Will you stay here to see me in it?”

Mrs. Woods nodded eagerly.

Five minutes later Gracie appeared, dressed in The Ponselle. She held her head high as she had been taught and descended the staircase, trying to imitate
Rosa
’s light step. She stopped halfway, sweeping the cape around to the front so Mrs. Woods would get the whole effect.

“You are beautiful, Gracie.” Dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief, she excused herself to her office.

Gracie lifted up the three tiered skirt so she wouldn’t trip and mounted the stairs to the first floor landing. Pausing in front of the floor-length mirror, she practiced a curtsy as she had seen the opera singer do. Something shifted inside of her. The old nervousness was less. It seemed the only person she needed to please was herself.

****

“Nothing like a cigar and baseball to clear the mind,” William said as he and Mr.
Swett
sent relaxed puffs of smoke into the evening air. Some children had made a makeshift court on the back lawn and cheered on a skinny boy of about ten who flailed his arms as he ran the bases.
Swett
gave William the low-down on the
Saratoga
horse races, then switched topics to tennis. William welcomed the sizable donation
Swett
offered for the construction of the tennis courts. It was all taken care of, but a little cushion wouldn’t hurt. “Well, old sport, if you will excuse me, I need to go find my man, PT, and discuss some business.”

The Eagles Mere Hotel Association had discussed valet service at their last meeting. Most hotels in town were going for it. In addition, The Raymond and
Edgemere
Inns planned to revamp their entire tipping system, inflating the guests’ fees to include all gratuities. Concluding that implementing such a thing at the
Crestmont
would discourage the staff from applying themselves to superior service, William decided against it.

When he found PT, he explained the new valet parking idea as they walked together down the drive toward the Evergreen Lodge. PT would be the boss, with Otto and Hank assisting. The parking lot would be extended farther away from the big house. What William did not share was that this was part of his plan to make room for the tennis courts. Then he switched to other matters of importance. The
Lakeside
had won the baseball championship in the hotel league last year and had their trophy prominently on display at the Association meeting.

He was interrupted by Peg’s call from the
Crestmont
porch. She waved and ran down the lawn to join them.

“Baseball’s not my game, sir.”

“I know you’ve got a good arm, PT, because I have seen all those strikes you throw in the alley. I’ll coach you. You would just be a backup pitcher. You probably won’t even have to play. Picture that gold trophy on the welcome desk!”

He opened his arms to hug his daughter. “PT, I’d like to introduce my new water activities assistant.”

“PT and I have met probably 287 times over the years. Papa, we need more life jackets. Many of the ladies won’t sit on the floating dock without them. May I ask Mr. Fox to requisition them?”

“Requisition. Did you hear her? She’s talking administrative language already.”

PT chuckled and said, “Anything else, Mr. Woods?”

“No, but give it some thought. The
Crestmont
Baseball Team needs you.” William slapped him on the back and PT headed off.

“Papa, he doesn’t want to play baseball. He’s been waiting for you to ask him to play a concert.”

“Well, yes, I did mention the possibility to him last year. I’ll mull it over. But that jazz he plays, I don’t know. I understand some people actually consider it to be real music.”

“Papa, you were the one who said exploring new options around here was a high priority.” She linked her arm playfully in his.

****

Gracie couldn’t wait to tell someone about The Ponselle. She found Dorothy in the kitchen, unlocking her silverware drawer.

“I was nearly out of my mind having to miss her concert to chop ice for that reception punch, but I still heard her through three doors. What a voice.” Carefully placing the silverware in a basket, she crooked her arm under the handle and carried it into the dining room. “She left you her gown?”

“Yes, and I want to write her a thank you note but I don’t know where to begin. I mean, she’s a big opera star and I was just her maid.”

“Just say what you feel. From what you told me, she considered you a friend. Everyone else was running around calling her ‘Miss Ponselle,’ but she wanted you to call her ‘
Rosa
’.” She handed Gracie a huge tray loaded with green and white plates, cups and saucers. “You carry, I’ll set. Now tell me everything.”

She babbled on about all the details as Dorothy arranged place settings. The moment she mentioned Eric Sturdy, Dorothy stopped her cold. “That handsome
Princeton
man sat with you? What about PT?”

Gracie’s knees felt weak. She set the tray down on an empty table and sat down. The whole story tumbled out about how she camped out at the bowling alley.

“Gracie, you can’t handle one man. I just don’t know what you would do with two.”

“I don’t have two. I don’t think I even have one.”

Dorothy stuck her nose into a sideboard and returned with a tall pile of butter pat dishes. “Well, if it were me, I’d gather myself together and go get the one who’s interested. I hope you’re still going to be in the staff talent show. You were all excited about that song
Rosa
helped you with.”

“After those lessons she gave me, I’m going to sing my song, with him or without him.”

****

Margaret agreed. William stood dumbfounded, waiting for questions about the details, but they never came. She said she was impressed with William’s plan for funding, then bustled Peg and Eleanor into the car to shop for clothes in
Williamsport
. He lifted the receiver and asked the operator to connect him with the West Side Tennis Club in
Forest Hills
,
New York
. His tennis courts would be state-of-the-art red clay and would be laid in by experts.

****

Routine. Going to church, cleaning the lobby and figuring up her money situation helped Gracie come back down to earth after Rosa Ponselle left. She walked down after her shift on Wednesday to pick up her laundered uniforms. The clouds twirled like white feathers in the sky. Then the laundry door slammed.
Magdalena
stomped out and dumped a huge wicker basket of wet clothes on the porch. Sticky bits of white clung randomly to the garments in the basket.

“
Dumkopf
!” she said.
Magdalena
ripped a uniform with “Antes” written inside the neck out from under her arm and waved it in Gracie’s nose. “Was
ist
das?” she screamed, pointing to the gummy white globs in the outturned pocket.

Flashes of heat prickled up Gracie’s neck. Her vocabulary word papers. She hadn’t taken them out of her pocket when she sent her uniform to be laundered.

Magdalena
pried off a piece of paper with her fingernail and stuck it under Gracie’s nose. “You. Clean. Then bring back.” Gathering her skirts in a huff, she tromped back into the laundry.

Gracie ran next door and returned to the laundry porch with the wastebasket from her room. One by one she pried pasty bits of paper off the clothing and deposited them in the basket.

Olivia appeared from around the other side of the building. “What on earth?”

Gracie explained her predicament.

“Oh, my. I’m on a break, let me help.”

“It’s my mess, I should clean it up.”

Perturbed, Olivia pulled the basket over and put some uniforms on her lap. They worked in silence as the breeze blew the spicy scent of orange and red nasturtiums their way.

“Lovely, aren’t they?” Olivia nodded toward the pots. “Peg planted them. She’s always finding some nice little thing to do. Enjoy them while you may because Isaiah is putting the flowers in tonight’s salad.” She rubbed her fingers together, trying to dislodge a sticky bit.

They picked in companionable monotony until Olivia leaned over toward Gracie. “Isaiah and I saw something odd last night. When we were out walking we saw Bessie and Hank duck into the steam room. She acted downright sloppy drunk.”

“I guess Jimmy finally got tired of her bossing him around.”

They both jumped when Eleanor climbed over the porch railing and upset the wastebasket. “Uh, oh,” she said frowning at Gracie. “I knew those pieces of paper you kept stuffing in your pocket were going to get you in trouble.” Eleanor licked two fingers and used them to pick up what had fallen out of the wastebasket. Dusting off her hands, she climbed into the porch swing. “So now we know why Bessie steals the cloves.”

“What cloves?”

“The ones she steals from the kitchen. She said they were for her toothache, but they’re probably to cover up the liquor on her breath.”

“Oh, my, you overheard. Eleanor, you’re just a child.” Olivia said. “You shouldn’t know about such things.”

“Why does everyone treat me like such a baby? Bessie isn’t so bad. Well, I’m mean right back to her when she’s nasty, but I see her crying sometimes when she thinks no one is around.”

****

Gracie’s soft hello fell unanswered after she let herself in with her key. Mrs. Cunningham slept late more frequently now. Gracie fixed breakfast, but didn’t see the note Madeleine had left until she was heading up the stairs with a tray. She went back to read it.

Mother felt feverish this morning. Call the doctor if she worsens. This letter must be posted by two. Madeleine.

Typically, there was no please or thank you included, although Madeleine had left a few coins for postage. The letter was addressed to
Salisbury
,
England
.

By afternoon Mrs. Cunningham felt much better and asked to sit on the front porch. Her chalky eyes stared straight ahead as she nudged each step with her right toe. She stabilized herself with her left hand on the banister and Gracie supported her right arm. They stopped before they reached the bottom for a rest.