Читать книгу Silhouette of a Sparrow - Molly Beth Griffin - Страница 10

Blue Jay

(Cyanocitta cristata)

“Will it ever let up?” I whined to no one in particular, tossing my needlework aside in a huff. Hannah went on crocheting a doily beside me as though my complaining embarrassed her.

“May I borrow your scissors?” Hannah asked. I handed over the plain ones from my sewing kit. She snipped the final bit of cotton on her perfect lacy round before passing them back. Her mother smiled proudly at the finished product and aimed a pointed glance in my direction. Hannah’s work was always lovely—she finished projects quickly and seemed to enjoy every stitch. Her mother’s glance said You could learn something from my daughter, and I couldn’t deny that it was true. But I was tired of needlework, and Hannah’s patience with it and her natural talent for it only made me irritable.

It had been raining for days. The perfect summer morning of my arrival showed me just enough of the beautiful lake town to build my excitement for walks amid exotic country wildlife, thrilling boat rides, swims in cool, clear water, and possibly even forbidden excursions to the amusement park and the dance hall. But dense clouds moved in just after lunch that day and a dreary rain began that was not to let up for a week. Between meals and naps, I spent those long days sitting on the hotel’s veranda with the Harringtons reading magazines, quilting, cross-stitching, sipping iced tea, listening to the radio, chatting about nothing, and watching sheets of rain fall from the gray sky to the gray lake below. Hot, heavy air lay in a damp blanket over us all, and the stagnant humidity only made boredom more stifling and sleep more restless.

Mrs. Harrington rapped her cane on the floor and snapped her fan shut in a motion that meant Waiter, bring me more tea. I reluctantly picked up my discarded embroidery hoop. Think of pink thread and even stitches. Think of Teddy, I instructed myself, not sky-blue jays and ruby-red cardinals.

What was he doing right now? Helping in his father’s office, probably. Or maybe running an errand for his mother—he’d take any excuse to drive the family car. Maybe he was making plans for a trip to the movies tonight with friends. With Alice—oh, how I suddenly missed Alice—and her beau, Adam.

Teddy and I had been going out together for almost a year. On Friday nights we’d go for burgers with Alice and Adam, and then to the pictures or the bowling alley or a baseball game. He opened doors for me and bought me milkshakes and let me wear his jacket when it got cold. I was allowed to ride in Teddy’s car if all four of us went, and it was more fun together anyway. I liked the feel of his arm around my shoulders—his pitching arm, strong and steady, squeezing me tight. Sometimes, when Alice slipped off with Adam for a while, I let Teddy kiss me. It wasn’t magic, not like they say, but his lips were warm and it felt nice.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had snipped the pink thread and switched to blue. In no time the brown branches and pink crabapple blossoms in the corner of the handkerchief in my lap played host to a perched blue jay. My tiny reproduction of this large, sturdy songbird was unskilled at best, but he carried the sky on his wings and the color cheered me up in spite of myself.

The waiter cleared his throat; I looked up in surprise. He handed me a letter—a letter! A small neat envelope covered in curly writing that I’d know anywhere: Alice’s. It was as if thinking of her had conjured the letter out of thin air. I thanked the waiter sincerely, thrilled to have a distraction, and tore into the envelope.

Dear Garnet,

Is it marvelous there at the lake or horrid with all this rain? I am thanking heaven that I finally found a job for the summer or I’d be bored senseless without you here. I’m just working in the ladies’ department at Dayton’s, but it’s good fun. The other girls are a hoot and I get to try on all the new fashions. I even got my hair bobbed so I’d fit in. I love it short, especially in this heat. Anyhow, Mother’s all for the job, but Grandma just mutters about “shop girls in this family?” all the time. I know once I’m married I’ll leave the money earning to Adam, but it’s too good to pass up while I’m still single, you know? Ooo, Adam. He’s been taking me driving a lot in his dad’s new car. I keep putting the brakes on, if you know what I mean. I have a year of school left! But he’s so gorgeous, it’s hard to resist. We’ve gone to the pictures with Teddy a few times. He misses you a lot. But no one misses you like I do! Write soon.

Love, Alice

P.S. Have you been to the amusement park yet?

I read the letter three times and then stowed it securely in my pocket. But even without the paper in my hands, my mind kept turning the idea over and over: a job. That was it, the answer. With a job I could get out on my own, I could escape the Harringtons, I could do something. Maybe this inert existence was enough for Hannah, but I was going crazy. I needed real employment.

“From a friend?” Mrs. Harrington asked.

“Yes, a girlfriend at home.”

She went back to her magazine and didn’t ask more about it.

After another moment of stifling stillness, I’d had enough. I couldn’t wait another minute. If I needed a job, I first needed permission to look for one, and that was where I had to start. I gathered my things, brushed bits of sky blue thread off my lap, and stood up.

“I’m going to my room,” I said, “to write to Mother.”