Remembering the Titanic (15 page)

It was hopeless.

That evening, when he telephoned the house in Brooklyn, Lottie said, “Katie ain’t here. She had some fancy shindig to go to.” He’d phoned every night that week. The message was always the same. But he knew Katie didn’t have singing engagements every night of the week. And the last time he’d called, he distinctly heard Katie’s voice in the background, talking to someone. Most likely that boarder, John, the bank clerk. A fine, sensible lad.

Paddy knew then that Katie wasn’t wanting to talk to him.

’Twas a cruel way to end things between them. So sudden like that, with no explaining. That wasn’t like the old Katie at all. But he couldn’t speak for the new, successful Kathleen Hanrahan. Still, hadn’t he done the same thing himself, more than once, back in County Cork? Ended a flirtation without saying why or good-bye? And not felt a shred of remorse over some girl’s broken heart?

She didn’t want to talk to him. That much was clear as the water in the Shannon. And though it made him feel like he was falling into a deep, black hole darker than the subway tunnels, he knew he was going to let it lie. He wasn’t going to go out to Brooklyn and persuade her to change her mind. He didn’t have anything to offer her, and that was the truth.

He didn’t telephone the house in Brooklyn again.

As autumn arrived, cooling off the days and nights, Elizabeth began to dread the oncoming winter. So cold…

Nola didn’t seem to mind. The change of season always appealed to her as it provided an excuse for more shopping. Her stamina amazed Elizabeth as they joined the other ladies moving from store to store, their chauffeurs waiting at the curb to receive the packages and store them in the car. Later, they went for tea at Sherry’s, where Elizabeth sat silently, sipping hot chocolate while the women discussed the newest fabrics, the silver fox stole Betsy Winslow had ordered, the holiday parties taking shape. Occasionally someone Elizabeth’s age, a friend from school, came in to say hello. But with one or two exceptions, they were all engaged and talked of nothing but their upcoming weddings in June. Elizabeth felt totally removed from them and though she listened politely, she was actually thinking of Max.

She thought about Max often. It was the only thing that kept her going. Throughout the autumn months and into early winter he telephoned every night, and once a week Elizabeth left Nola in Esther’s capable hands and went to a movie or a play or concert with Max. Nola disapproved, but she said nothing. “I think she knows,” Elizabeth told Max as they walked along Madison Avenue holding hands one evening in early December, “that if it weren’t for you, I’d jump out of the attic window. She knows how much I hate this life and how desperately I want to leave. Seeing you helps and she knows that. She’s not stupid.”

“She seems so healthy,” Max commented. “I know it makes you mad when I say this, but I really think you should get a second opinion, Elizabeth. Perhaps Dr. Cooper was wrong. Doctors do make mistakes. They’re not infallible.”

“I did suggest that. A month or so ago. She’s determined to have a holiday party. I said it would be too much for her, and she argued that she was feeling fine. So I said, maybe she didn’t have anything wrong with her heart after all and why didn’t we consult another cardiologist. Well, you’d have thought I’d suggested skinny-dipping in the Hudson. She threw such a fit! Defending Dr. Cooper, accusing me of accusing him of lying, and on and on. Esther came rushing in with smelling salts, worried that Mother was going to have another attack. It was awful. I doubt that I’ll be bringing it up again in the near future.”

Max had no response to that. They had reached the front steps of Elizabeth’s house. “Listen,” he said, putting his hands on her arms as she turned to tell him good night, “I’m having a party, too. I think I’ll be ready for the unveiling of my new work soon, and I thought I’d make a celebration of it. The night before Christmas Eve. I’m inviting everyone who’s been nagging me about showing my work. Say you’ll come. I suppose you’ll have to fib to your mother about where you’re going. Maybe she’ll be invited out that evening by friends.”

“The night before Christmas Eve? Oh, Max, you didn’t pick
that
night! Nola’s not going to be out that evening. She’s going to be right here. So am I. That’s the night of
her
party. She’s already sent out the invitations. Can’t you have it some other night?”

Max drew away from her, just a bit. “I’m going to have to scramble as it is to finish by then. Can’t do it any sooner. In fact, I probably won’t be seeing you until then, because it’s going to take every spare moment.”

Elizabeth was disappointed, but she knew that as the holidays grew closer, the shopping trips as well as the evening engagements would increase. Getting out of the house to spend time with Max would become impossible.

“Your mother doesn’t need
you
at her party, does she? She’s got Esther, and the staff. This might be good, Elizabeth, now that I think about it. The house will be so full of people, she won’t even notice that you’re gone.”

Elizabeth mulled that over. Maybe he was right. She would help Nola prepare for the party, right up until the last minute, then she’d slip out as soon as the festivities were well under way. With the house full of people, Nola wouldn’t miss a daughter, would she? As long as that daughter returned before the guests left.

But … “It would never work.” Elizabeth sagged against the stone wall lining the steps. “I just remembered, my mother makes a toast at the holiday party, about halfway through the evening. To the new year. Then my father made one. With him gone, she’ll expect me to do it. She’ll be looking for me. She’ll get upset when she doesn’t find me, and if she gets upset…”

“You think she’ll have another attack.” Max fell silent for a moment, then said heavily, “So does that mean you’re not coming to my unveiling?”

Elizabeth hesitated. Max had been the only bright spot in her life during all these boring, dutiful months since Nola’s collapse. If it hadn’t been for him…. “I’ll try, Max, I promise I will. I want to be there. Maybe I can slip out right after the toast.”

That seemed to be enough for him. His good night kiss was warm and sweet and if Elizabeth stayed in his arms much longer than was proper, it was because she knew that once she went inside, the warmth would leave her. And it wouldn’t come back until she was with him again.

P
REPARATIONS FOR
N
OLA’S
C
HRISTMAS
party began in earnest. While the menus and shopping fell to Cook, the cleaning and polishing to Esther, Elizabeth’s mother took charge of everything else. There were festive holiday gowns to purchase or, if nothing appealing was found in the endless supply of Manhattan shops, to be made. The gowns were most important. Then came decorations, including the tallest, fullest tree, the fattest wreath and garlands, to adorn the Murray Hill house. And there must be entertainment for the guests. Nola had heard of a young Irish girl with a sweet voice. A friend had employed her for his wife’s birthday celebration and had recommended her highly. “She sings Irish ballads, none of the vulgar songs coming out of Tin Pan Alley these days. Lovely-looking girl, too. Kathleen something. Her agent is Pauly Chambers, but it’s the wife, Florence, who manages the girl. Common sort of woman, Mrs. Chambers, but not too difficult to deal with. Underpricing the girl, if you ask me.” He had given Nola the agent’s number. “But call soon. Miss Hanrahan has become quite popular. She’ll be booked steadily over the holidays.”

Nola had called the following morning and secured Kathleen Hanrahan’s services. At a pretty price, she’d thought, but if the girl was popular… “Nothing good comes cheaply,” Martin had been fond of saying. So true.

Elizabeth watched her mother busily preparing for the festivities with a mixture of awe and fear. How efficient Nola was! When the mood struck her. Addressing invitations, making endless telephone calls, conferring with the staff about thousands of details and always, always, finding time to shop. Elizabeth decided that a list of shops Nola had not yet graced with her presence would be very short indeed.

“You’re doing too much, Mother,” she said after a particularly trying Wednesday in December. They had spent hours traipsing about town in a nasty mix of rain and sleet, shopping for just the right antimacassars for the parlor chairs. If the arms and backs of the parlor chairs, Nola said emphatically, were not covered with the lace doilies during the party, heaven only knew what shape they might be in afterward. The problem was, she was determined to find the lace upholstery covers in “a nice, Christmassy green.” Even when there appeared to be none in any color other than white or ecru in all of Manhattan, she continued doggedly searching. Elizabeth finally cried out in exasperation, “Mother, we’re wet and we’re tired and I’m freezing and what does it
matter
what color they are? Who will care?”

“I will!” But Nola finally gave in, dragging Elizabeth back to the very first store they’d visited to buy an even dozen of the white doilies.

Elizabeth was very annoyed. They could have saved themselves hours of misery … oh, what was the use? When they finally arrived home, wet and chilled to the bone, Elizabeth asked, “Mother, does Dr. Cooper know how you’re wearing yourself out for this party? I’m sure he wouldn’t approve.”

Nola patted the last lace doily into place on a white armchair and stood back to admire the effect. “Don’t be silly, Elizabeth. I’m not exhausted. I feel better than I have since … in a long time. I’m having such fun getting ready for this party.”

Elizabeth realized her mother had almost said, “Since your father died” or “since that night.” And it
was
true, she did seem more excited than she had in a long while. Happier. Like a young girl preparing for her first real dance.

Still… “You have to be careful, Mother. You mustn’t overdo. You really must let the servants take on more. And me. I can do more.” What was the point in giving up Vassar, giving up her future, her
life
, if her mother was going to do everything herself?

“Of course you can, darling. Why don’t you run along and ask Cook to bring us some lovely hot chocolate? And a few of those gingersnaps she baked this afternoon? That will warm us up. You’re shivering again, Elizabeth. In spite of the lovely fire Joseph has made for us.”

“Is it any wonder I’m shivering? It’s cold outside, and wet, and we were out there for hours.” Elizabeth hated being told to “run along.” It made her feel like a two-year-old. “We shouldn’t have been out in such nasty weather. If you catch cold, Dr. Cooper will blame me. He’ll say I’m not taking very good care of you. He’ll say we should hire a nurse, who would do a better job of it.”

Apparently remembering then exactly why Elizabeth had declined admission to Vassar, Nola did an about-face. She sank into a chair beside the fireplace, put her feet up on the ottoman, and said a bit breathlessly, “You’re right, dear. I believe I may have overdone it just a bit today. I wonder if you might fetch me an aspirin or two?”

As Elizabeth left to fetch the aspirin, her mother called after her, “When we’ve had our little snack, we’ll put our heads together and decide what you can do to help me. I’m sure there are many things. I don’t know what I’d do without my darling daughter.”

How quickly she lost her amazing energy, Elizabeth thought dryly. The minute I said we might need to hire a nurse. Which would, of course, leave me free to do as I pleased. Small wonder Mother suddenly took to a chair.

Too late now, anyway. The first semester was nearly over and it was much too late to apply for the second.

Not that she would leave her mother in the hands of a stranger, even a registered nurse. That was not what her father had had in mind when he said, “Take care of your mother.”

Elizabeth sighed heavily as she went into her mother’s bedroom and moved to the night-stand. A husband for Nola was still the only answer. But as long as her mother’s standards were impossibly high, there was almost no chance of a wedding in the near future. By the time she finds someone who suits her, Elizabeth thought bitterly as she removed two aspirin from the small tin she found in the nightstand drawer, I’ll be far too old for college. I’ll need a cane just to get around campus.

Nola did enlist Elizabeth’s help with the party plans, managing to do this without giving up one ounce of control. Much of the work Elizabeth was assigned came, she decided, under the heading,
Simple idiotic tasks designed to make my daughter feel useful
. Any of the servants could have polished the silver, arranged the flowers, sorted the RSVP’s, fluffed the throw pillows, tipped the endless line of delivery men who came in a steady stream to the back door every day during the final week before the party.

Trivial tasks or not, Elizabeth was glad to be busy. It almost kept her from thinking of how the new year held so little promise for her. She didn’t
want
to think about that. It would ruin the holidays.

“I should have bought the sapphire blue,” Nola said on the night of the party. They still had two hours before the first guests arrived, but she was not one to leave the all-important grooming for the last moments. She was so organized, all that had to be done in the house had been done, leaving only last-minute preparation, which the servants would see to. Now, twirling in front of the full-length mirror in her room, she complained to Elizabeth, “This green makes me look sallow. Why did you let me buy it?”

Elizabeth, reclining on her mother’s bed in her robe, her hair wrapped in white cotton rags, laughed. “
Let
you? Mother, if you recall, I did my best to sway you toward the blue. You said green velvet was more in keeping with the season and since you hadn’t found the green doilies you wanted, your dress would provide a touch of holiday color.”

Nola grimaced into the mirror. “Well, you should have persisted. I look positively sickly.”

“You look stunning, and you know it.” Elizabeth sat up on the bed. “You
are
feeling well, aren’t you?” She was still hoping to slip away after the toast and run off to Max’s. But if her mother wasn’t well …. All of this excitement couldn’t be good for her heart.