Hattie Ever After (4 page)

I couldn’t trust my voice. I merely shook my head. Though I had yet to finish offering refills, I followed Charlie back through the swinging door.

In all the years I’d known him, I’d never seen him angry. Never. My hands were trembling so, I had to set the coffee carafe down before I dropped it.

“I didn’t mean to ruin our visit by losing my temper,” he said.

“Don’t.” I held up my hand to stop him. “He was thoughtless.”

He brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “Men like that—who think they understand war when they haven’t fought—well, I just want to knock some sense into them.” He held up a fist; then a rueful look came over his face. “That doesn’t add up, does it?”

I put both hands over his clenched one. “I’m on
your
side,” I said. “Besides, the last time we sparred, I walloped you, remember?”

His face relaxed into a smile. “You had quite the advantage in that I would never hit a girl.” He bent over and rubbed his shin. “I still carry the mark of that sharp kick you gave me.” He tugged on his pant leg as if to show me the scar. That lightened the mood.

“You deserved it for saying I smelled like a monkey.” I started to fill the sink with suds.

He put his arm on mine. “Can that wait a bit?”

I hesitated. I’d told Mrs. Brown I would cook and serve
this last meal, but hadn’t made any promises about cleaning up. “How about that walk now?” I suggested. A short walk would still leave me time to pack my things for the trip. For
tomorrow’s
trip.

I grabbed my hat and a shawl. Charlie offered his arm and we stepped outside. He leaned in a bit and made a production of sniffing the air. “You know, you don’t smell much like a monkey anymore.”

That remark earned him an elbow jab.

“And you clean up real nice, too.” He squeezed my arm with his. “It’s so good to see you.”

I squeezed back. “You too.” I meant the words. It
was
good to see him healthy and whole. But I’d forgotten about his eyes. They pulled me to him like a magnet. There were lines around them now, since the war, which only served to make him more handsome.

A gust came up, tugging on my hat. “Oh!” I grabbed for it but it sailed a few feet away. Charlie ran after it, brushed it off, then brought it back to me.

“May I have the honor?” He held the hat over my head.

I nodded and he settled it on top of my windblown hair. “I must have lost the hat pin.”

As he snugged it on my head, his fingers brushed my cheek, loosening the strings in my legs. I teetered and he caught me.

“Are you all right?” He peered into my face with those eyes.

I nodded again, looking away. It was a lie, of course. I wasn’t all right. How could I have been so certain a few hours ago that I’d made the right choice in taking the job with the
Varietals? It was much easier to leave the thought of Charlie than to leave the real—and unfairly attractive—thing. What had I done? What was I doing?

My thoughts were razor-edged and painful against my temples. I would have to ask Mrs. Brown for some of her headache powder when I got back. This whole business between men and women made me feel as cantankerous as my old cow, Violet. Had I four hooves, I’d be stamping them; a tail, and I would be twitching it back and forth in a frenzy. If only Perilee weren’t so far away. She’d helped me learn to quilt and bake; surely she could help me with lessons of the heart.

But she wasn’t here, and I had to confess to Charlie what I’d done. It was only fair, especially after he’d come all this way. Wait—why
had
he come all this way? He had yet to tell me. But I knew him well enough to know his motives would be revealed on his own timetable.

“This is nice,” Charlie said when we reached the park at the end of Central Avenue. While we strolled around the pond in the center of the lawn, he caught me up on the doings back in Arlington. “Did you hear that Miss Simpson is getting married?”

“No.” I’d thought our English teacher would be an old maid forever. “Really?”

He nodded. “You’ll never guess the lucky groom.”

I wracked my brain for possibilities. “I can’t imagine.”

“Mr. Miltenberger!”

“The newspaper editor?” I grinned. “Why, it’s the perfect match. She can correct all of his misspellings!”

“The Ladies’ Aid Society is quite relieved that at least one of their matchmaking efforts has succeeded.” Charlie bent to pick up a rock and tossed it in the pond.

My stomach flip-flopped. It was time to tell him. Now. “Charlie—” I pressed my hand to my cheek.

“Yes?” He turned to look at me.

Resist the eyes! “There’s something, I mean, I want to—”

“You’re wondering why I surprised you like this?”

I am a coward. Lily-livered through and through. Charlie had tossed me a lifeline and I grabbed it. “Yes. Yes. That’s it.”

“I wanted to tell you in person.” He reached out and grabbed my hands. “My sergeant’s from Seattle, which is where the Boeing company is. I think I wrote you about them before. Still small but Sarge thinks they’re up-and-comers.”

“So you’re going out to interview?”

Charlie cocked his head and looked at me. With those eyes. “That’s the good news part.” He jabbed both thumbs at his chest. “You are looking at an oh-ficial employee of the Boeing Airplane Company!”

“A job? In Seattle?”

He chuckled. “You should have heard Mother! Here she thought she’d got me home to stay.” His face grew serious. “But I couldn’t, Hattie. I would’ve dried up like wheat in a drought.”

I hesitated. “I understand your mother’s feelings, though. Seattle’s a long ways away.”

He turned his eyes, his secret weapons, on me again. “Yes, but that’s where your friends Karl and Perilee are, and their family. And I thought that’s where you wanted to be.”

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

“Isn’t that right?”

“Charlie—”

“I know I haven’t given you much time to think. Springing it on you this way. You’ll have packing up to do here, that sort of thing.”

“Stop.” I put my hands over my ears. “Please stop.”

His face was a question mark. “I thought you’d be happy.”

I drew in a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. “If the Boeing company has the job you want, I am happy. For you. And you’re right. I would love nothing more than to be close to Perilee again.”

“And what about being close to me?”

I put my finger to my lips to signal that he should stop talking. “Aunt Ivy always drove me batty, quoting Scripture when she wanted me to do something I didn’t want to do. But I keep thinking of those verses from Ecclesiastes—‘To everything there is a season.…’ ” Now tears stung at my eyes. I could scarcely believe I was going to say these words and yet I knew I must. “I think this is my season for something else.” I couldn’t go on.

His eyes darkened with pain. “Have you met someone?”

“No. No! I should have told you right off. I have a new job, too.” I couldn’t face his gaze. “Charlie, you are so dear to me. But like the war changed you, the homestead changed me. I know there is something I must do before, before I—” I couldn’t say the word “marry.” “Before I settle down.”

“And so?” He stiffened, stepped away from me.

“I’m going to San Francisco. With the Varietals.” I touched
my mother’s watch, pinned to my bodice. As if it might give me strength to somehow survive the next few moments. “Tomorrow.”

It felt as if a boulder had been rolled between us, one we could neither see around nor over. Certainly not through.

When he spoke, it was to say, “I should probably get you back.”

We walked in silence as we returned to Brown’s. At the door, though, he took me by the arms, turning me to face him full-on.

“Hattie, what is it that you’re looking for?” He ducked his head to meet my eyes with his.

I managed a trembling smile. “That’s the trouble. I don’t know. I only know that I haven’t found it yet.”

He stared at me for the longest time, then rubbed his hands along my arms. “Well, in that case, you’d best keep looking.” His voice was low and each word was wrapped in sad. “And I’d best be going.” He gently drew me to him and I leaned on his chest. His heart beat so very hard. Another gentle movement and his warm mouth found mine for our very first kiss. He tasted of peppermint, which was not surprising. But there was something more than peppermint in that kiss.

Something like home.

He pulled back so that our lips were touching, but barely. His breath was warm and sweet. I closed my eyes, ready for another dreamy meeting of our mouths.

What was I thinking? The timing was all wrong for this. I pulled away, shaking my head to clear the fog.

“We’ll still write?” I touched my fingers to my lips as if
to impress that sweet kiss upon them forever, as one might preserve a rose between the pages of a book, hoping against hope this first kiss wasn’t to be our last.

He tugged at the bill of his cap. “You can write,” he said. “But to tell you the truth, I’m not sure I’ll be able to answer.”

And with that, Charlie Hawley left. Taking a good chunk of my foolish heart right along with him.

A Chop Suey Day

June 24, 1919
Nearly to San Francisco

Exactly seventeen days had passed since I’d left Great Falls. There’d been stops in Portland and Redding and some towns whose names I’d already forgotten. Nothing in my journey had prepared me for the big city of San Francisco.

Country mouse was the perfect description for me as I followed close on Maude’s heels, terrified I would be separated from the troupe and lost forever. I had never seen so many people in one place before.

“Do close your mouth, Hattie,” scolded Miss Clare. “It’s most unbecoming.”

I closed my mouth but kept my eyes wide open. I didn’t want to miss a thing. Think of the pages I could fill in my tablet! Oh, I couldn’t wait to write about the swirls of people and the sharp clean smell of seawater.

We exited the building onto a U-shaped plaza laid with streetcar tracks. I glanced at Miss Clare to see if that was to
be our form of transport to the hotel, but she and Mr. Lancaster led us on to a stand of jitneys sufficient to carry a company of actors as well as their luggage and tools of the trade. As I was nudged forward to one of the vehicles, I spied a large white feather tipped in gray just in front of me. I quickly stooped to pick up this omen—appropriate for a young woman soaring into an unknown future—before being ushered into a car with Maude and a few others, including the new second boy, hired in Spokane to replace Cecil Hall. The second boy fell promptly asleep. Even though I was also done in from the long journey, I couldn’t imagine closing my eyes and missing one speck of this amazing metropolis. Five Great Falls could fit within San Francisco’s city limits, with space to spare. Each block we passed promised Grand Adventure. I had surely made the right decision in coming.

The streets were peppered with flower carts bursting with color. “It looks like one big bouquet!” I blurted out.

Maude smiled at my comment. “At Christmastime, it’s awash in violets, ten cents a bunch. You’d love it then.”

“I love it now!” Turning back to the window, I caught sight of both horse-drawn wagons and engine-powered vehicles maneuvering the streets in patterns of pure chaos. But I didn’t witness one collision, or even a near miss. Clanging streetcar bells competed with newsboys shouting, “Dr. Dodge,
Titanic
survivor, in serious condition from suicide attempt. Read all about it!” Dapper policemen with white stripes running around their jacket cuffs and down their pant legs chanted, “Watch the trolleys, folks! Watch the traffic.”

No matter which way I looked, there were people.
Businessmen in suits tipped their straw boaters to young women whose cloche hats covered stylish bobs. Mothers in wide-brimmed bonnets bustled hand in hand with boys in knickers and girls wearing such enormous satin bows atop their heads they looked like gift packages. And weaving in and out of all of the throngs were bareheaded laborers and deliverymen, some of them tiny Chinese with strange long pigtails bouncing on their backs. I imagined myself in one of Charlie’s beloved airplanes, flying over this scene. From such heights, all these folks must look like popcorn kernels bouncing in a hot skillet.