Читать книгу Good Night, Mr. Wodehouse - Faith Sullivan - Страница 26

chapter sixteenchapter sixteen

“COLLEGE!” NELL CRIED. “My stars, Elvira, what did you tell her?”

“Nothing. She said I should think about it.”

“But of course you’ll go. Such an opportunity.” Nell poured tea and they sat at the kitchen table. “Did George bring you home?”

“Yes.” Grains of sugar scattered across the oilcloth.

“Is anything wrong?”

“No.”

“You seem . . . shaky.”

“The brandy punch, probably.”

Nell studied Elvira. “You do want to go, don’t you? To college?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. I want to learn. I want to be somebody. But I don’t want to leave the store.”

“Really?”

“What’s so strange about that?”

“Well, the store is only a small world, that’s all. College is a big world. Are you frightened of college?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Mankato’s bigger than Harvester. You’d meet so many new people.”

“I just don’t know, Nell. Please.” The teacup clattered in the saucer as she rose.

The querulousness in Elvira’s voice was unfamiliar. “I’m sorry,” Nell said. “I won’t keep at you.”

Lifting her skirts in her fists, Elvira fled to the bedroom.

Here again was the girl warm and intelligent enough to win love and respect yet secretive and untrusting enough to close a door behind her, shutting Nell out.

For months, Nell purposely refrained from mentioning college again. Juliet Lundeen, respecting Elvira’s indecision, said only that there was no hurry, the Normal School wasn’t going anywhere.

And Juliet remained patient, if puzzled, by Elvira’s silence during the coming year. But, after all, the girl was young and there was plenty of time.

However, in the fall of 1904, while Hilly started first grade, Elvira began working full-time at the store. This, Juliet had not anticipated, and she did wonder if Elvira intended to turn her back on college altogether. And, if so, why? Nor could she ever have anticipated what the year would bring Elvira.

Once or twice over the year 1904, Nell broached the subject of college, but each time, Elvira drew an icy curtain around herself and walked away, saying that she was still thinking about it.

Apart from these occasions, Elvira was much her own self, and from her increased salary, she was paying Nell a small room and board consideration. So, really, from September of 1904 to March of 1905, life above Rabel’s Meat Market was genial.

Nell was occupied with teaching and with overseeing Hilly’s first-grade projects and lessons. Additionally, she had acquired a small social life. One night a week, three or four elementary teachers, among them Hilly’s teacher, Diana Hapgood, joined her in the apartment for an evening of darning and mending followed by tea and cake. Diana referred to them as the “Darn It, We’re Good Club.”

As she herself was busy, Nell was pleased when Elvira once again began attending the Saturday dances at the Harvester Arms. And she paid no particular attention when, occasionally, the girl returned late from work. Elvira was, for heaven’s sake, grown-up now, old enough to be a wife and mother, certainly old enough to have an independent social life.

But then, sometime in May—Nell wasn’t sure just when—Elvira fell into a strange mood, jumpy and lethargic by turns, quick to flare. Had the girl fallen in love with a boy from the dances?

Around 2:00 a.m. one night, Nell woke to sounds from across the hall. Rising, she padded into Hilly and Elvira’s room. Arms flailing, Elvira was tossing on the bed, sobbing.

“Wake up!” Nell shook the girl.

Instantly, Elvira was awake and sitting, her eyes large with panic. “What did I say?”

“You were sobbing,” Nell told her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Elvira whipped the light blanket around herself and lay down, face to the wall. “Just a nightmare.”

Two days later, Hilly asked, “What’s wrong with Elvira? She got mad when I asked if we could go to the park with Mrs. Lundeen and Laurence.” He sat at a desk in Nell’s third-grade room while she corrected spelling tests. “And now they’ve got a push-go-round at the park. Laurence would love that.”

“Well, maybe Elvira doesn’t have time right now.”

“And she’s never home.”

“She’s a grown-up, Hilly, and she’s not responsible for you now that you’re in school.”

“Doesn’t she like me any more?”

“She loves you. But she’s got other things to think about.”

“What things?”

“She’s got to decide about college. Or maybe she’s thinking about getting married.”

“Married? But what about us?”

“I don’t think Elvira ever intended to live with us all her life. Someday you’ll get married and have your own house and probably a baby like little Laurence.”

“Don’t worry, Mama. I’ll never leave you.”

“Elvira, we need to talk,” Nell said one Sunday when they’d returned from Mass. “Hilly, would you go outside, please?”

Elvira looked balky. Seated on the daybed facing her, Nell clasped her hands tightly together, nervous, but beyond caring if the girl resented a call to account.

“I feel responsible for you while you’re living with me,” she said. “In the past two or three weeks you’ve lost weight. You’re edgy and secretive. Something’s wrong. You’re a different girl from the one who came to live here.”

“That’s right. I’m a grown woman now. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, we have to. Or I’ll have to go to your parents.”

“No!”

“Then tell me what’s wrong. Is it a young man? Did someone bother you at work? Do I need to talk to the Lundeens?”

“For God’s sake, no!” Eyes skittering, panicked, the girl looked about to break down.

Then, Elvira went calm. The terror disappeared and her body relaxed. She smiled. She’s found a lie, Nell realized.

“Oh, all right,” Elvira said, “I didn’t want to talk about it but you won’t be satisfied until I do.”

Nell wanted to cry. Elvira was feeling her way through the story.

“If you must know, I’m thinking about taking a little trip. I never had a vacation.” Nell waited. “I deserve a vacation.”

“Of course you deserve it, but why would you lose weight over that?”

“Well, it’s scary, isn’t it? I’ve always wanted to see Chicago, and that’s a big adventure.”

This is her story and she’ll stick to it, Nell thought.

At work, Elvira gave notice that she would be away for a week beginning June 17. She was going to Chicago.

Something wasn’t right, Nell knew. In desperation she called on Cora after school one day. “Elvira is miserable—moody and quarrelsome—and she won’t explain. Has she said anything to you?”

“I haven’t seen Elvira since the Christmas party.” Cora studied her pale, desiccated hands, locked together on her lap.

“She says she’s taking a vacation. Going to Chicago for a week.”

Cora looked up. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s come up all of a sudden.” Nell rose. “I’m sorry to bother you. I had hoped Elvira might have said something.” Nell left, unsettled and dissatisfied. Was Cora lying? And why would I think that?