Marta's Legacy Collection (36 page)

“We’ve got to do something about the yard.” Hildie worried. “We’re going to be the neighborhood slobs.”

“Who cares? It’s the landlord’s problem, not ours. He said he’d come by and do it when he has time.”

The landlord only came on the day rent was due, and by then Hildie and Boots had learned the roof leaked and the kitchen sink had a habit of stopping up. Mr. Dawson said he’d send someone to fix it.

“When hell freezes over, he’ll fix it.” Boots called on a friend to do it, then sent a bill to the landlord. When he didn’t pay, she deducted it from the next month’s rent. When Mr. Dawson complained, Boots stood toe-to-toe with him in front of the house.

Neighbors came out to listen. Boots called Mr. Holmes to witness that Mr. Dawson had agreed to her deducting a portion of the rent for repairs. When she came inside the house, she slapped her hands together as though dusting the man off. Hildie laughed. “You remind me of Mama!”

Finally, embarrassed by the state of the front yard, Hildie asked Mr. Holmes if she could borrow his lawn mower and hedge clippers. She remembered how Papa had disdained people who “let their land go” and didn’t want to be the dump of the block.

“Sorry.” Mr. Holmes shook his head. “I don’t loan tools, Miss Waltert. Learned the hard way people don’t return them.”

“I’d buy a lawn mower and clippers if I could, but I don’t have the money.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“We’re both nurses at Merritt.”

He peered over the fence at the yard, rubbed his chin, and shook his head. “Sure is a mess. Tell you what. I’ve got an old mower under the house. I’ll sharpen the blades and grease her up a bit and you can have her. I’ll give you my wife’s old clippers. It’s clear that place you’re living in needs work. How much rent is Dawson charging you girls?” When Hildie told him, he whistled. “No wonder you don’t have anything left over. He sure saw you coming, didn’t he?”

Mr. Holmes brought the lawn mower and clippers over the next Saturday. “All sharp and ready to go.”

After an hour, Hildie sat on the front steps to rest. Mr. Holmes peered over the fence and asked how the lawn mower was working. “It’s working fine, Mr. Holmes, but I should’ve asked if you had a sickle.” Hildie wiped sweat from her brow.

He laughed. “Looks better than it did.”

“Thanks for the mower and clippers, Mr. Holmes. I’ll keep you supplied with lemons.”

“Call me George. And as for lemons, I already take what I want off the branches hanging over my fence.”

32

1939

Germany Invades Poland

Hildemara read the headline over morning coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs. Boots shuffled in, wearing her slippers and robe, still bleary-eyed from her date the night before.

“Oh, my head.” Boots groaned, sliding cautiously onto a chair across the table. “I don’t even know what time I got in last night.”

“After two in the morning.”

“No wonder I feel like a truck ran over me.”

Hildie folded the paper back to read the second-page continuation. “Have you seen this?”

Boots rubbed her temples. “Heard it on the radio last night.”

Papa had worried about this kind of thing happening. German relatives had written glowing letters about the meteoric rise of Adolf Hitler and the National Socialist German Workers’ Party. Papa said a man with such messianic charisma might prove to be a devil in disguise. Mama thought the Great War would end all wars in Europe. Papa said man’s nature never changes.

Boots made a dismissive gesture. “I hope America stays out of it.” Apparently she had other things on her mind besides what was happening in Europe. “I saw a new guy in the cafeteria yesterday.” She raked her fingers through her curly black hair. “Good-looking, tall, great body, nice eyes, a smile to make a girl’s knees wobble.”

Hildie looked up from the paper. “Did you make a date with him?”

“Nope. He’s an orderly. I only go after doctors, lawyers, and Indian chiefs. You might like him, though.”

Hildie just looked at her. They’d had this discussion before. Boots accused her of becoming a social outcast. Hildie said she had enough of a social life with the nurses and her patients at work.

“Flo, you’re going to become like Miss Brown.”

“And what’s wrong with Miss Brown?”

Boots stood, shaking her head. “Gotta get ready.” She opened the bedroom door and turned back to Hildie. “I’m going out after work. Don’t wait up for me.”

Hildie laughed. “I never do.” She had the house to herself more than she had expected, especially when it came to yard work and doing dishes. She didn’t mind the quiet. When she had a day off, she slept in, caught up on laundry, housekeeping, and yard work. She kept up correspondence with Cloe, who had moved to Los Angeles, or wrote to Mama and Papa. Mama wrote back once a month, giving a chronology of what had happened on the farm. When Hildie had Sunday off, she went to church.

Hildie was sitting in the cafeteria the next evening, finishing her supper and thinking about Boots and her comment about Miss Brown, when she felt someone looking at her. She glanced up and saw a young man standing in line, waiting for the cook to hand him his dinner. He fit Boots’s description of the “new guy” she’d seen. When he smiled at her, Hildie looked down quickly. Flustered, she picked up her tray, dumped the contents, and left the cafeteria.

The next day when she came on the ward, she saw him helping lift one of her patients from bed to gurney for transporting him to surgery. He had an athletic build like Bernie. Football player? When he smiled at her again, she felt herself blush. Embarrassed, she looked away quickly and busied herself with paperwork at the nurses’ station. She kept her eyes down as he went by with her patient.

As she stood in line for lunch, someone came up behind her. “I saw you on the medical ward this morning.”

She glanced at him and returned her attention to the cafeteria menu. Picking up her order, she headed for a table in the far corner of the room, where she could be alone. As much as she laughed over Boots’s disdain for orderlies, she knew there was an unspoken rule about nurses fraternizing with them. What was it the General had said?
“Laborers work with hands. Professionals work with hands, head, and heart.”

“Mind if I sit with you?” When Hildie just stared, openmouthed, he set his tray down and took the seat opposite hers. “Is there an unspoken rule around here that a nurse can’t say more than three words to an orderly?”

Did he read minds? “No.”

“One word. Hardly an improvement.”

His smile did odd things to her insides. “I don’t usually strike up conversations with people I don’t know. I only saw you yesterday for the first time.”

“That’s better.” He grinned, which made her heart do flips and flutters. “I’m a junior at UC Berkeley with eyes on medical school. I thought it might be a good idea to work in a hospital and get a different view on my future career.”

“Good for you.”

“I’m working in the psych ward for the next month.”

“I hear it can be a real riot in there.”

He laughed. “Good one.” He was even more handsome and appealing when he laughed.

“I wasn’t joking.”

“Oh.” He looked at her, really looked this time, and she could feel the heat coming up again, along with tingles and other feelings she had never had before that made her feel vulnerable. “Miss Waltert.” He held out his hand, a big strong hand like Bernie’s only without the calluses. “I’m Cale Arundel, but my friends call me Trip.” When his fingers closed around hers, heat surged through her. She pulled her hand away.

“Do you like movies, Miss Waltert?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“How about Friday night?”

She glanced up sharply. “Are you asking me for a date?”

“You look surprised. Yes, I’m asking you for a date.”

She looked around, disturbed by his attention. She had never been asked out by a boy, let alone a man. Why would someone like Cale Arundel be interested in her? “I’m on duty.”

“When are you off duty?”

“I’d have to check the schedule.”

He crossed his forearms on the table and leaned forward, gazing at her with faint amusement. “Is it because I’m a lowly orderly that you hesitate?”

“I don’t know you.”

“I don’t know you either, but I’d like the opportunity to get to know you. Hence, the invitation.”

She looked at her watch. “I need to get back. Excuse me.” She grabbed her tray, dumped the contents in the garbage can near the door, and left the tray on top. Her heartbeat didn’t slow until she returned to the medical ward.

“What happened to you?” one of the nurses asked.

“Nothing. Why? Am I late?”

“No. You just look a little flushed and excited about something.”

Cale Arundel came on her ward later that afternoon. The moment she spotted him, she grabbed a clipboard and ducked into the linen closet to check off the list of sheets, pillowcases, towels, and washcloths. One of the nurses peered in. “Someone’s waiting for you at the nurses’ station.”

Cale walked toward her. “I came for an aspirin.”

“An aspirin?” Nurses sat, heads together, whispering and grinning at her. She glared at Cale. “You came all the way here from the psych ward to find an aspirin?”

“I didn’t think you’d loan me a straitjacket.”

She didn’t smile. She looked pointedly at the other nurses and then back at him. Maybe he’d get the hint and stop providing grist for the gossip mill. He noticed, too, but shrugged it off. “People talk. So what?”

So what?
It was her reputation at stake. Embarrassed, angry, she headed down the hallway. He followed. When she stopped out of sight of the other nurses, he stepped in front of her. “You look ready to shoot me, Miss Waltert.”

“Why are you here?”

“Why do you think?”

“I have no idea!”

“I checked your schedule. You’re off on Friday. I’d like to take you to dinner and a movie.”

No one had ever asked her out, and the thought of this handsome young man, orderly or not, being interested in her seemed beyond comprehension. “I have no intention of being the brunt of someone’s idea of a joke.”

“Why would I joke about it?”

“No!”

“How do you know I’m not husband material unless you get to know me first?”

She blanched. “What did you say?”

“Boots said you wouldn’t go out with anyone unless he was husband material.”

“I’ll kill her.” Hildemara felt her face go hot. “And I’m supposed to believe you’re looking for a wife?”

“I never gave it much thought until two days ago, at 12:15 to be exact, when you walked into the cafeteria.”

Did he really think she’d believe such hogwash? “I’ll put out the word, Mr. Arundel. You’ll have women lined up and on their knees begging.”

He leaned so close that she could smell his aftershave. “Keep it to yourself. I’m not interested in anyone else. Dinner and a movie. I promise I won’t lay a finger on you, if that’s what worries you.” He raised his hand in solemn vow. “I swear I’m a gentleman.”

“If you aren’t, I have a big brother who’ll beat the living tar out of you.”

He laughed. “I take that as a yes. Friday. Six o’clock sharp.” He shoved the swinging doors open and walked through. “See you then.”

“Wait a minute!”

A patient buzzer went off. She pushed the doors open, but Cale had already gone into the stairwell. Frustrated, she hurried back down the hall. She’d only make matters worse by tracking him down in the hospital.

Boots!
She’d tell her roommate to give him a message.

“Nothing doing.” Boots shook her head. “You want to break a date, you do it yourself.”

She watched for him in the cafeteria, hoping for a chance to tell him she’d changed her mind. She didn’t see him for the next three days. She comforted herself with the fact that he didn’t have her address. He couldn’t come and pick her up if he didn’t know where she lived.

“He’s cute. And you haven’t had a date since I’ve known you.” Boots was scrambling eggs in the small kitchen. “Go out. Have fun.” She clicked her tongue and winked. “Try not to behave.”

Hildemara didn’t see Cale at all that week. On Friday, she fretted about what to do. Maybe he wouldn’t show up. But then that would be even more humiliating!

“Will you settle down, Flo? You’re jumpy as a grasshopper.”

“What was I thinking? I don’t even know the guy.”

“That’s why you go out with him. So you can get to know him. Let me know if he’s a good kisser.”

“You’re not funny, Boots!”

She laughed. “It’s so much fun teasing you.”

Hildie sat on the beige sofa she and Boots had bought secondhand and plucked at the skirt of her navy blue dress. She got up again. “This is crazy.” She saw a black Model T Ford pull up and park in front of the house. “Oh no, he’s here. I can’t do this, Boots.”

“No getting out of it now.” Boots bounced over, knelt on the couch, and peered out through the curtains. “Holy cow! Red roses! This guy is serious. And a car! And I thought he was an orderly.”

Hildie slapped her hands away from the curtain. “Will you stop? He’ll see you! He is an orderly. He’s a student at UC Berkeley majoring in medicine.” She felt a twinge of something uncomfortable watching Boots watch him. “Why don’t
you
go out with him?”

Boots laughed. “He’s at the door, Hildie. Open up. Let him in.”

They went to Lupe’s on East Fourteenth Street. Over the next hour, Hildie found out Cale Arundel preferred the nickname Trip; he grew up in Colorado Springs; his father drove a city bus; his mother played piano for the Presbyterian church next door; he liked skiing, fishing, and hiking; and he’d spent three years at the University of Colorado in Denver. “I transferred to Berkeley because it’s one of the top universities in the country.”

Exactly what Mama had said. “Why transfer so late?”

“Didn’t have the grades to get in freshman year, and even if I had, I would’ve had to pay out-of-state tuition. Transferring senior year isn’t the smartest decision I’ve ever made. I lost some credits coming here, but I wanted UCB on my diploma, and I hope to do my internship in San Francisco.”

“Why are you called Trip?”

He laughed. “I can thank my father for that. He said I tripped over my feet until I grew into them.” He held up his hands. “Enough about me. I want to know about you.”

Hildie didn’t know what to say to make her life sound the least bit interesting. Thankfully, the waitress brought their spaghetti. Trip put his hand out to take hers. “Mind if we pray?” She put her hand in his as he said grace. He squeezed her hand lightly before letting it go. “Last thing I’ll say about myself—God matters. I go to church every Sunday. I hear you’re a praying girl. Now, it’s your turn to talk.” He stabbed his fork into his spaghetti.

Stomach fluttering, Hildie twirled spaghetti on a fork, wishing she had ordered something easier to eat. “My parents are farmers in Murietta, almonds and raisins. I have an older brother and two younger sisters. Bernie went to college in Sacramento. He’s married to my best friend, Elizabeth. My younger sister, Cloe, is going to the Otis Art Institute in Los Angeles. She intends to design costumes for the movies. Rikka, the youngest, is a talented artist, still in high school. When I graduated from high school, I came up to train at Samuel Merritt Nursing School. When the administrator asked if I’d stay, I said yes. End of story.”

Trip gave her a lopsided smile. “I doubt that.” He set his fork down and studied her.

She picked up her napkin. “Do I have spaghetti sauce on my chin?”

“No, but you have a nice chin.” He picked up his fork again. “Sorry. I like looking at you.”

No one had ever said that to her before.

Trip took her to
Drums Along the Mohawk
with Henry Fonda and Claudette Colbert. He kept his word and didn’t touch her, not even once. When the movie ended, he drove her straight back to the house, walked her to the door, said he’d had a great time, and wished her a good night.

She took the hint and retreated into the house, leaving the porch light on until he got into his car. She watched through the curtains as Trip Arundel drove away.
Well, that’s that.
She plunked down on the sofa and stared at the wall.

She had had the best time of her life, but thought she must have bored Trip to death. He couldn’t get away fast enough. Changing into flannel pajamas, she tried to read. Distracted, she went to bed and lay awake until Boots came home at three in the morning. “You don’t have to tiptoe.”

“You’re still awake?” Boots’s voice slurred slightly. “Have a good time?”

“Sounds like you did.”