Decorum (33 page)

C
HAPTER
40

“Mr. Jerome’s party,” said Esther to the maître d’ as a small string ensemble struck up an air. The Café Savarin glowed in welcoming honey tones of white mahogany woodwork. Marble-top tables were crowned with shallow dishes of yellow crocuses that breathed spring into the light-filled main café. The somber winter fashions were giving way to green, violet, and blue with ornaments of flowers, feathers, and ribbons.

“I don’t remember Jerry ever possessing such a sheepish look,” she whispered to Francesca as Jerry saw them and waved.

“Good gracious, there’s Maggie,” Francesca said as Maggie turned and acknowledged them with a nod. “I thought we were lunching alone with Jerry. Neither of them looks very happy. It could very well be that she knows.”

“So she should,” said Esther. “I don’t approve of secrets between husbands and wives. Jerry has a perfect right to preserve his domestic life above any consideration he has for you, you know.” Francesca merely sighed. “Nevertheless, we should assume nothing and follow Jerry’s lead. Since there has never been any love lost between Maggie and me, that look of disapproval may be entirely for my benefit.”

The maître d’ gathered up the leather-bound menus and led the ladies through the labyrinth of tables as if parading violet and lavender flowers toward the far side of the room. The tap of Esther’s walking stick upon the marble floor awakened the curiosity of a succession of onlookers.

Jerry rose, looking more like his amiable self, his smile spreading. He extended a hand to Esther and gave her a family kiss on the cheek before pulling out her chair for her while the maître d’ seated Francesca and handed them menus. Maggie merely nodded.

“How are you, Maggie?” said Esther, when no further greeting was forthcoming.

“As well as can be expected, thank you, Esther,” said Maggie, perusing the open menu before her.

Francesca cast a furtive look across the table at Esther, whose attention was directed toward soups, hors d’oeuvres, and fish.

“Oh?” said Esther. “I thought perhaps you looked a little peaky. I hope the dinner party didn’t upset you. I thought it was rather fine myself, didn’t you, Jerry?”

“Yes, indeed,” he said.

“We were sorry we couldn’t join you for a nightcap afterward, weren’t we, Francesca?” Esther said. “But I’m afraid I’m still not quite used to such a press of social engagements.”

“I should think it will be a little easier at the Banff Springs,” said Francesca. “With the convenience of social engagements and recreation in and about the Springs and being able to retire at any time.”

“I certainly hope so, dear. How’s the beef Marseillaise, Jerry?”

“You missed a very enlightening time, didn’t they, Jerry?” said Maggie. “I’m sure I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

“Excellent,” said Jerry to Esther.

“Oh, how so?” asked Esther.

“I believe it’s the way the pan is seasoned,” said Jerry.

“I’m sorry, Jerry. I meant the enlightening time that Maggie referred to.” Francesca caught Esther’s eye this time, but the latter placidly ignored the distress signals Francesca exchanged with Jerry.

“It seems you’ll have your hands full, Esther,” retorted Maggie. “Mr. O’Casey has decided to take himself off to Banff—just like that. I can’t imagine what could have given him the idea, especially since he made such fun of it only a few months ago.”

“I suppose the man may amuse himself wherever he chooses,” said Esther.

“He certainly could have been more considerate by choosing to go somewhere else for his amusements, as you call them,” said Maggie.

“He is going for the sake of the Excelsior,” interjected Jerry. “It doesn’t follow that all business has to be hard labor.”

“Perhaps not. But anyone, however loosely connected with our family affairs, should not be imposing himself upon Esther and Francesca—especially Francesca.”

“Can you recommend a Bordeaux to go with the beef, Jerry?” asked Esther. “You act as if you think a powder keg is about to detonate beneath us, Maggie,” she continued. “I’m sure there will be plenty of other people in Banff to occupy his attention and ours.”

“He will only be a problem if we allow him to become one,” said Francesca.

“Well, Jerry, perhaps for safety’s sake you and I should join the ladies,” said Maggie.

“To do what? Police the corridors?” asked Francesca with a touch of sarcasm.

“Calm yourself, dear,” said Esther, “and please lower your voice. If we all keep our heads and mind our own business, everything should come off well. Transplanting the entire family three thousand miles to occupy closer quarters than Manhattan Island might well be a greater folly. What on earth should we do to keep from living in each other’s pockets while we’re all in a single hotel in the Canadian Rockies? Pitch tents by the Bow River?”

“Really,” returned Maggie, indignant.

“How well I remember your ability to get straight to the point, Esther,” said Jerry. “Not that I object, you understand. I certainly get enough of it around the women I know”—here he looked at Maggie and Francesca—“so you might say I’m used to it. The degree of tact varies considerably—something I know I don’t have to worry about with you.”

“That was a tactful move in itself, Jerry.” Esther unfolded the linen napkin and placed it in her lap. “Besides, it isn’t as if he’s going to marry my niece, is it?” Both Jerry and Francesca looked daggers at Esther. “I could do with an aperitif. How about you?”

C
HAPTER
41

“They’re here,” cried Vinnie, peering out the front-parlor window as she pinned her plain hat of Panama straw with its zigzag ribbon and smoothed the front of her smart new traveling suit. The parlor was aflutter. Anne and Mrs. Lawrence tallied the last of the hand luggage in the front hallway as Michael carried it down from Vinnie’s room.

As the carriages pulled up in front of the parsonage, Mr. Lawrence walked down the front steps to greet them. Two carriages and a cab there were to take them to Grand Central Terminal. Francesca and Esther alighted from the first carriage and May and Rosemary from the cab and accompanied him into the house.

“I have such butterflies,” said Vinnie as she greeted Francesca. “I can’t believe the day has actually come. You both look so elegant. Goodness. We shall be ever so grand.” Francesca’s smart steely blue-gray suit, Esther’s Copenhagen blue, and her own soft light brown would surely make them the most noticeable—and envied—trio on the platform.

“You’re not nervous, are you, dear?” asked Esther as she kissed Vinnie on the cheek.

“Good gracious, you’re flushed. Are you quite all right?” Francesca removed a glove and touched the back of her hand to Vinnie’s forehead and then her cheek.

“She’s perfectly fine,” chided Mrs. Lawrence cheerfully. “She’s only worked herself into her usual stew. Gracious, she hasn’t stopped chattering since dawn—and this after being up half the night packing and repacking and frightening us half to death that she had forgotten something.”

“I should think that’s a good sign, then,” said Esther.

“Yes,” chimed in Michael. “If you should ever get total silence from Vin, you’d better send for the doctor.”

“I should think with all the lists you’ve made you should have been able to keep track of
something,
” chided Anne with a smile.

“Yes, but I kept crossing things out and adding things in until I couldn’t read the lists and then I’d make new lists and not be able to remember why I had crossed things off the old lists. Then I had to pull everything out of the trunks to remind me of what I thought I was taking in the first place and had to start over.”

“Did you bring your—” began Esther.

“Don’t mention a thing, please, Mrs. Gray,” interrupted Mrs. Lawrence, “even in jest. I was never so glad to see Harry take those trunks to the station where she can’t touch them. It was all I could do to restrain her from going with May and Rosemary to Mr. Worth’s private car yesterday to make sure everything was in order.”

“It isn’t as if I do this every day,” said Vinnie. “Once we get past Winnipeg there really won’t be anyplace to get something I may have forgotten.”

“Let’s make haste, Lavinia,” said Mr. Lawrence. “We can’t keep Francesca and Mrs. Gray waiting.”

“Would you give us a blessing, please, Mr. Lawrence?” asked Francesca, catching May before she could go out the door with Vinnie’s last bag.

“Of course,” he said. “I would have proposed it if you had not.”

The anticipation was palpable as the entire party assembled in the parlor. The early June sun streamed warm and comforting through the lace curtains of the front picture window and brightened even the somber black horsehair and dark oak of the Lawrences’ parlor. Peace equal to the anticipation descended as Mr. Lawrence enjoined them to bow their heads.

“Almighty and everlasting God,” he began, “we thank Thee for the great love shown to us through Thy many blessings of health, home, friendship, and family. We ask that we would be ever mindful of Thy great love and care for us wherever we may be and of Thy great call that we extend Thy love and care to others. We ask that Thou wouldst bless these Thy servants—Esther, Francesca, Lavinia, May, and Rosemary—on this long sojourn. Protect and keep them, we pray, that they may be gentle as lambs and wise as serpents and may return to us whole and happy. In the name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.”

A collective “amen” broke the stillness.

“Maybe I should check my room one last time,” said Vinnie, making for the stairs.

“Enough, Lavinia.” Mrs. Lawrence blocked her path. Vinnie smiled at her mother’s hasty glance around the parlor in spite of herself.

The party sorted itself into the two carriages—Esther, Michael, and Anne in the first carriage, and Francesca, Vinnie, and her parents in the second.

“I must admit,” said Mr. Lawrence when they were settled, “I feel quite as if I were going to Banff myself. Always exciting to see people off to interesting places.”

“I can’t wait for you to see Mr. Worth’s varnish,” said Vinnie. “It’s stunning. Our own little luxury home on the rail for five days.”

“You won’t want to come home to us, I fear,” said Mrs. Lawrence. “We shall have to come and visit you on the siding at Grand Central.”

“Mr. Worth has shown you a great kindness,” Mr. Lawrence said to Francesca, “and a great consideration for the safety of three ladies”—a point to which his wife assented with a nod. “Will you take your meals in your carriage, or will you eat in the dining car?”

“We may do either,” said Francesca. “I suppose it will depend on how much we will be in need of company other than ourselves over five days.”

“Or what we look like first thing in the morning,” said Vinnie with a laugh.

“I hope you won’t give up a civilized toilette altogether, Lavinia,” said her mother in mocking dismay. “I realize there is such a thing as letting one’s hair down, but have a little mercy on people, for goodness’ sake.”

“We’re going hiking and driving and taking in ever such a lot of activity out of doors, aren’t we, Francesca?” Vinnie retorted.

“I hope so,” said Francesca. “I’m looking forward to wearing holes in my boots from the long walks.”

“Well, for everyone’s sake I hope the Banff Springs Hotel has ample hot water,” said Mr. Lawrence.

When the carriages finally set down their charges, Francesca, Esther, the Lawrences, and the maids threaded their way through the travelers, porters, railway workers, fruit and flower sellers, newsboys, and handcarts. As they approached the platform, the slick, immense Prussian blue varnish came into view with its gleaming black trim and the gold and black lettering of the Worths’ crest and the private car’s moniker CAPRICE. Just at the steps of the varnish’s doorway stood Mr. and Mrs. Worth, smiling broadly and waving welcome, an attendant with his passenger list standing with them.

“How very dear of you to come and see the ladies off,” said Mrs. Lawrence, extending her hand to Mr. and Mrs. Worth in turn. “We must say again how grateful we are for your kindness.”

Esther, Francesca, and Vinnie pulled from their handbags their travel documents, which the attendant duly checked off as he greeted them.

“It’s our great pleasure. We could hardly let you depart without seeing you safely aboard and making sure you have all you need,” said Mrs. Worth. “Shall we give you all a brief tour?” She motioned Vinnie’s parents toward the door.

“Oh yes,” said Vinnie. “Then you can picture us all on our way.”

Mr. Worth led them up the steps and onto a small platform bounded by wrought-iron grillwork. Through the door and past storage closets, they came to a small entryway, which opened into a spacious observation room of satinwood and blond mahogany. The Lawrences gaped at the hand-painted ceiling framed in carved gilt and Prussian blue, and the Prussian blue carpet with its ropes of gold flowers. Fine landscape and still-life paintings in gilt frames made cool spots of bright color on the walls.

“This couch,” said Mr. Worth, indicating a long tufted sofa, “can form into an upper and lower set of beds at a pinch. Very handy for when the children and grandchildren are aboard, you know.” He strode to the center of the room and pulled down the chandelier so that the cut glass globes were within reach. “I had fully intended to have the carriage electrified by now. I’m afraid you ladies will have to put up with gas.”

“I’m sure we’ll manage,” said Francesca with a wry smile.

“If you’ll follow me,” he said, raising the chandelier into place and moving past a mahogany sideboard and gilt mirror toward a windowed hallway, “we come to the first of the staterooms.” He opened the door to a sunlit room with a comfortable daybed topped with crimson tapestry pillows. A small table and chair were next to the bed and behind them, a mahogany closet. A mosaic tile washbasin with gilt taps, a gilt mirror, and a pair of lamps occupied the near corner. Above the bed on the luggage rack was Vinnie’s valise.

“This is my room then,” said Vinnie. “Isn’t it lovely?” Her few belongings, however neatly stowed, seemed to take up every available space.

The family snaked its way through Vinnie’s room and out again, and through Francesca’s stateroom, similarly furnished in blue, admiring all the latest conveniences.

A door to the water closet was discreetly indicated. “Water tanks for nearly five hundred gallons of clean water are situated under this carriage. Quite the latest thing,” Mr. Worth noted. “Ample for drinking and bathing and cooking and other necessities on the journey.” He opened the door to the bathroom with its claw-footed tub, a small chest, a mirror, a set of brass dress hooks, and an oak side chair.

The next stateroom was where Esther’s belongings were set out—Mrs. Worth’s usual stateroom of purples, mauves, and gold.

“You must excuse the dining room,” said Mrs. Worth as the hallway opened up to the car’s full width. “John uses it for business meetings and his office as well as for our family dining.” She indicated the carved tiger oak table, eight chairs, and china cabinet.

“My wife always complains that the big boys can be as hard on the furniture as little boys,” said Mr. Worth with a laugh. “We’re nearly at the end. Allow me.”

Mr. Worth knocked at the last bedroom door. Upon being admitted they peered in and found May unpacking and hanging a few clothes in the closet and on hooks. The upper berth was stowed away. Rosemary was arranging her belongings around the plain porcelain washbasin. Vinnie was abundantly thankful for her own small space.

“Don’t let the small size deceive you,” said Mrs. Worth, as they finally came to the kitchen. “Our chef has managed quite sumptuous meals here, hasn’t he, dear? I’m sure you will find it adequate for the journey.”

“We’ve even laid in a few stores for you ladies,” said Mr. Worth, opening the doors to cupboards and the icebox. “Though I’m sure the Canadian Pacific will have made some provision along the way.”

As they descended the steps and the ladies walked the Lawrences to the front of the
Caprice,
the conductor gave a piercing blast on his whistle. “All aboard! All aboard! Last call, ladies and gents!” Steam began to cloud the platform.

Vinnie’s muddled emotions welled up in her throat. Eager to leave yet loath to go, she seized her mother around the waist and kissed her hard upon the cheek. She could barely hear the words of parting offered her, for all the clanging bells and slamming doors and sharp whistles. She quickly hugged her brother and Anne as Francesca and Esther made their farewells to the Worths and the Lawrences. With tears in her eyes, Vinnie threw her arms around her father’s neck, shouted, “I love you, Papa,” in his ear, and kissed him good-bye. He handed her up the steps and she raced to join Francesca and Esther at the open window of the observation room before her courage failed her. She drew out her handkerchief and leaned on the windowsill.

In that moment of noise and hurry, Vinnie was overcome by an enormous sense of well-being. As she looked upon those she loved most in the world, she knew it was going to be all right. She didn’t know how, or why, or who would cause it to happen, but that didn’t matter. Her heart soared.

“Good-bye! Good-bye! I love you!” she shouted and kissed her hands toward them as they kissed their hands toward her. “I love you!”

Good-byes resounded up and down the platform. Handkerchiefs waved from every window and door.

“Good-bye! I love you,” Vinnie repeated as the engine began its great chug forward and the successive pull of each car brought the mammoth train to attention. With each belch of steam the train drew them farther and farther apart till she could hardly hear them over the clamor. Then, to her joy, her father’s voice rang out clear and sweet.

“Good-bye, my dears,” shouted Mr. Lawrence, waving. “Good-bye, my dears, and God bless you.”