Читать книгу Somewhere to Call Home - Janet Barton Lee - Страница 14

Chapter Four

After a wonderful Sunday lunch shared by some, but not all, of the boarders—Julia, Lila and Elizabeth were gone of course—Violet was quite pleased that Michael followed through with his mother’s suggestion to show her Central Park. He’d made arrangements to hire a surrey so that he could drive, and Mrs. Heaton had him help her into the backseat, insisting that Violet ride up front beside him so that she could see better.

Michael helped her into the buggy and then went around and hopped in beside her. Violet wasn’t sure why she felt safer with him handling the reins instead of a paid driver, but she did.

They headed down the street to Fifth Avenue, and although there was traffic, Violet was pleased that it didn’t seem quite as hectic as the day before. There were many people out and about, but the pace of the traffic was slower as they turned onto the avenue and headed north past Madison Square Park and the Fifth Avenue Hotel.

“Look, Violet.”

Violet looked back to see that Mrs. Heaton was pointing to the left.

“There is Delmonico’s. It is supposed to be one of the best restaurants in the city and, from what I hear, it is quite the place to see and be seen.”

“Perhaps we’ll stop there for dinner on the way home and see whom we can see and be seen by.” Michael laughed and winked at Violet, who couldn’t contain her chuckle—or the flush of heat that crept up her cheeks.

“Perhaps we should,” Mrs. Heaton said somberly. But then she joined in the laughter.

They passed several large churches, including the Marble Collegiate Church and the Brick Presbyterian.

Michael pointed out the Waldorf Hotel, explaining that rumor had it that it had resulted from a family feud between William Waldorf Astor and his aunt, Caroline Astor. “William, the nephew, had always resented that even though he had more money than his aunt did, she held the social leadership of the family. So to spite her, he had his own house razed and the hotel built. It opened in ’93. It must have provoked his aunt, because just last year she had a home built on down the avenue next to Central Park.”

Mrs. Heaton took up the story from there, pointing to construction going on next to the hotel. “Now her son, John Jacob Astor IV, has had her old mansion next to the Waldorf torn down and is building a hotel of his own.” She shook her head. “There is no telling how it will all end up.”

“Probably not,” Violet agreed although she knew absolutely no more than she’d been told about the families. Nonetheless, it was all very entertaining.

There were many carriages out and about on the avenue, and it was quite obvious when they passed those of great wealth. Their vehicles were larger and grander, for one thing. And many of them were open so that one could see from the way the occupants were dressed that they were of the upper echelon of society.

However, there were many others who appeared to be dressed as she and Mrs. Heaton were—still in their Sunday best, but far less elegant than the rich. Violet felt quite comfortable traveling in the company she was with.

They passed several more mansions and churches before Michael said, “This is known as Vanderbilt Row.”

The mansions occupied a whole block, and Violet was so impressed at the size and the design of the elegant buildings, she had to remind herself to close her gaping mouth. There were balconied windows with intricately carved trims around the windows and between each floor, and moldings everywhere.

Michael leaned a little closer to Violet. “A far cry from what we’re used to, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes.” Violet shook her head. “I can’t imagine living in anything that size or that grand. Why, one could get lost.”

“I’m sure I would.” Michael chuckled.

“Well, I think I much prefer my small family home in Ashland or your mother’s boardinghouse to such opulence.”

“Why, thank you, Violet,” Michael’s mother said from the backseat.

Soon they arrived at Central Park and Michael drove the surrey into it. They passed from the city into a tree-lined road that ran through the park until the scene before them opened up to a huge space, beautiful and unspoiled.

“It looks untouched, as if it’s been here from the first,” Violet said.

Michael shook his head. “Every bit of the park has been landscaped. None of it is like it was to begin with and, from what I’ve heard, that’s a good thing.”

As they kept riding, Violet was taken aback by the sheer size of it. “I had no idea it was this large or this beautiful.”

They passed waterways and ponds, and at the north end there was a huge lake where she could see couples boating. There were trails leading off in all kinds of directions, and people walking, riding or sitting on park benches. The perfume of blooming flowers of all kinds permeated the air around them, and Violet sighed at the beauty of it all. She couldn’t wait to spend a whole day here.

“There are outdoor music concerts this time of year, and, oh, the ice-skating in the winter is wonderful,” Mrs. Heaton said.

“Ice-skating?”

“Yes,” Michael said. “We’ll have to go, if you’re still here by then.”

Violet wasn’t sure what to say. She’d love to go ice-skating here, but her goal was to stay only long enough to pay off the mortgage on her home. She couldn’t imagine living here for any longer.

“New Yorkers of every nationality and status love this park,” his mother said, saving Violet from having to say anything.

“I can well see why,” Violet agreed. “It is simply amazing right here in the middle of the city.”

“It didn’t start that way,” Michael said. “At first, the wealthy were the ones who mostly took advantage of it and there was a lot of discussion on just whose park it was. But with the El and all manner of other transportation, it’s easier for all New Yorkers to enjoy fresh air and sunshine these days, and now the park is enjoyed by anyone who can get to it.”

“I’m glad,” Violet said. It didn’t seem right that only the wealthy should enjoy something so beautiful.

As they left the park and started back down Fifth Avenue, Michael said, “It’s about dinnertime. How does Delmonico’s sound? Should we see and be seen?”

“Oh, Michael, I was just teasing about that,” Mrs. Heaton said. “Besides, I should get back and see about the boarders’ meal.”

“Mother, you know the boarders realize that our Sunday night suppers are whatever you, Gretchen or Maida decide to put out for them. Maida will take care of it and they will be fine.”

“But it’s expensive, Michael—”

“No buts. I may not be able to afford a mansion on Fifth Avenue, but I think I can manage to take us to Delmonico’s. We’re going.”

Violet wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it, but Mrs. Heaton seemed quite pleased, and she didn’t have the heart to object and take the smile from her face.

Once at the elegant restaurant, they were shown to a table and given menus. Thankfully, the interior was dimly lit, because while a few other female diners were dressed in the manner that she and Mrs. Heaton were, most were dressed in gowns the likes of which Violet had never even dreamed of owning.

She felt a bit out of place, but if Mrs. Heaton did, it never showed, and Violet tried to relax and enjoy herself. There were so many offerings on the menu, both in English and French, Violet wasn’t sure what to order and asked Michael to choose. He chose lobster bisque to begin the meal of the Delmonico steak with asparagus and creamed potatoes.

Violet had never seen the evidence of so much wealth in her life from both the sights she’d seen on Fifth Avenue to the clientele of Delmonico’s. Once the waiter left them alone, she said so.

“There is a lot of wealth in New York City, to be sure. But there is also great poverty. You just can’t see it from here,” Michael said. “You will, though. You can’t live in the city for long and not become aware of it.”

“That’s true,” Mrs. Heaton agreed. “It is a shame, but a fact that cannot be disputed.”

“I think I’m glad I belong to neither group...although if I don’t find work soon, I could certainly become one of the impoverished,” Violet said.

“That isn’t going to happen, dear. Neither Michael nor I would see you turned out on the streets.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean... I know I have a place to stay and I’ll find work. What I meant was that I’m a lot closer to being poor than I am to being rich, and I don’t think I’d like to be either.”

Michael said, “I understand, and I must admit it is a great comfort to know that I have enough to enjoy my life, but not so much that someone would want to take it from me—or so little I’d want to take it from someone else.”

“Michael! You’d never do that.”

“I would not, Mother. But in this city, many do just that. I own a detective agency, Violet, and I’ve seen it all. Many who are poor will do most anything to survive, and some of the rich will do most anything to keep what they have.”

* * *

On the ride home Violet couldn’t remember ever having enjoyed a day more. The meal had been excellent, although she didn’t want to even think of how much it must have cost Michael to indulge in that way.

“Thank you for such a wonderful day. I only wish my mother could have been here to take it all in.”

“Oh, so do I, my dear,” Mrs. Heaton said. “She would have loved being here with us all.”

“Yes, she would have.”

Violet’s mother had told her that Mr. Heaton had left his wife and son fairly well off when he passed away. They weren’t wealthy like the Astors and the Vanderbilts she was learning so much about, but she had a feeling they could have been living in a style above that of running a boardinghouse. Mrs. Heaton still didn’t know what had happened to her daughter or even if she was still alive. And yet, she’d chosen to come to this city and reach out to others. That Mrs. Heaton chose to do that, to be there for young women who needed a place to feel safe, and that her son chose to support her in that endeavor, was proof enough for Violet that her sweet landlady sought to do the Lord’s will in her life. And Michael seemed to do the same.

All she knew about Rebecca’s disappearance was what her mother had told her. According to her, Rebecca had been talking about going to New York City for months before she actually did. Mrs. Heaton hadn’t been happy about it, but Becca was determined and of age and there wasn’t anything she could really do stop her from going. She’d evidently written to tell her mother that she was settled in a boardinghouse and would keep in touch. But that was the last they had heard from her. Finally after a couple of months with no answers from Rebecca, Mrs. Heaton received a packet with all her letters returned to her unopened with a note from the landlady saying that Rebecca hadn’t lived there in over a month. Violet couldn’t even imagine coming to this city without knowing anyone as Rebecca Heaton had done, and she was very thankful that the Heatons were here for her now.

Michael took his mother and Violet back to the boardinghouse before taking the surrey back to the livery and then walking back home. He helped his mother out first and then gave a hand to Violet to help her.

“I hope you enjoyed your day, Violet.”

“Oh, I enjoyed every minute. Thank you for dinner, Michael. It was wonderful.”

“I enjoyed it, too.” He stood there looking down at her for a moment before clearing his throat and taking a step back. “I’ll be back home soon.”

But he watched her and his mother get to the front door before taking up the reins and heading out.

When she and Mrs. Heaton entered the house, Violet realized that if it didn’t feel like home yet, it was beginning to feel very close to it. And once she thought about being alone back in Ashland, it felt even better to be here.

Several of the boarders were in the front parlor, including Lila. She didn’t look the least bit happy, and Violet wondered if it was only her Lila wasn’t happy to see.

“We were getting a bit worried about the three of you, Mrs. Heaton,” Lila said. “It isn’t like you to miss Sunday night supper.”

“I know, Lila. I’m sorry to have caused you concern, but Michael convinced me that Maida was perfectly capable of taking care of you all.”

“Oh? And where is Michael?”

“He’s gone back to the livery. He’ll be along shortly,” Mrs. Heaton answered. “We had a treat this evening. Michael took us to Delmonico’s for dinner.”

“Oh, my, Delmonico’s?” Julia said. “What’s it like? Who all did you see there?”

Violet found an empty chair and let Mrs. Heaton describe their outing. “Well, it is very dim in there so I can’t be sure, but I think I saw Mr. and Mrs. William Waldorf Astor along with the Carnegies.” She named several other people that Violet had never heard of, but the others in the room seemed to know exactly whom she was talking about.

More and more questions were asked, and Mrs. Heaton glowed recounting the people she thought she’d seen and the meals they’d ordered. Michael slipped into the room and listened to his mother’s account of dining and grinned. Catching Violet’s eye, he gave her smile. It was obvious that he was pleased his mother enjoyed herself so much. He was a good son.

Mrs. Heaton held everyone’s attention from the beginning to the end of her report. “I hope you all get a chance to go there at least once. The interior was so elegant, and the food was truly delicious. I’m sure I’ll not forget this day anytime soon.”

“From your wonderful description, Mrs. Heaton, I feel I’ve just been there. I’m so glad you enjoyed yourself,” Elizabeth said.

“Thank you, dear. I wish you all could have been there. It certainly wasn’t something we planned.”

“No, it was not,” Michael said. “But if I’d known you would like it this much, I’d have taken you long before now.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Mrs. Heaton,” Lila said. But the look she shot Violet seemed to say that she wasn’t happy that Violet had been there with her.

Julia came to sit beside Violet. “I’m so glad you had a great day. How did you like Central Park?”

“It was wonderful. It’s so beautiful and peaceful. I look forward to spending more time there soon. I hope you had a good time with your family.”

“Oh, I did, thank you. I told Mama about you and she said you must come with me next time.” She glanced over at Lila, who had made her way over to Michael and was talking to him. “I think Lila would rather have been with the Heatons and had you go with me.”

Violet looked at the couple. Lila was leaning toward Michael and talking to him in earnest. Maybe there was more between them than she’d first thought. “Oh? Are they courting? I mean—”

“Not that I know of.” Julia chuckled. “Lila might wish for that, but as far as I know Michael has never given her any reason to think that he might want to court her. He is very conscious of the fact that his mother runs this boardinghouse, and he behaves with the utmost propriety toward all of us.”