Read Crestmont Online

Authors: Holly Weiss

Tags: #Historical, #Fiction

Crestmont (9 page)

BOOK: Crestmont
2.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads


Gotta
run, Olivia, my love. My break’s over and I’ve got twenty chickens to season and truss before they go in the oven. Tough life keeping the
Crestmont
table famous.” He kissed her gently murmuring, “Tonight, sweet.”

She smiled and her blush made her copper skin glow. Gracie envied the tenderness in Olivia’s eyes as they followed Isaiah up the hill. Her friend turned and examined her with kind concern.

“What’s wrong, Gracie? You’re upset, I can tell.”

“Mrs. Woods gave me some of Bessie’s rooms and Bessie is going to be red in the tooth and claw mad at me. Oh, honestly, Olivia, she is one of the meanest people I ever met. She’ll blame it all on me, you wait.”

“She probably will. I’ll bet she feels threatened because Mrs. Woods likes you.”

“Well, if she catches me down here, she’s likely to put me through the wringer of
Magdalena
’s biggest washing machine.”

“Gracie, I’m sewing a burnished rose
charmeuse
gown for Miss. Woodford for the Saturday night dance. Would you like to see it?”

“Yes, hide me, please.” Gracie said as they made for Olivia’s dressmaking room at the rear of the building.

When she left Olivia’s shop, Gracie snuck back around to the front of the laundry, hoping to avoid Bessie. She was relieved to see PT lounging in a white rocker, his gangly legs crossed and propped up on the railing. His thin fingers raked his hair out of his eyes, and then stroked his brown mustache. Some of the lightest hairs caught the afternoon sun.

“So what’s the scuttlebutt, Gracie? Bessie livening up your life any?”

“How did you know?”

“Just figured, you being new and all. That’s what Bessie does. The more people she can make feel small, the happier she is.”

“Oh,” she sighed, slinking into a rocker. “Have you seen her? She’s trying to find me.”

“Yup. Just went into the big house.”

“Good. I’m safe for awhile.”

“So why did you leave home?” he asked abruptly.

Her right eyebrow shot up. “How did you know…?”

“Oh, I know the look. Catches me in the mirror sometimes when I shave. Besides, I carried your suitcase inside on that first day. Too light to have much more in it than the two books you told me you packed.”

Flustered, she felt like a small child caught in a trespass. She stuck out her chin and blurted, “I’m only here for the summer and then it’s off to a big city to be on the stage.”

“On stage doing what?”

“I’m going to do vaudeville. I can sing, you know.”

“Oh yeah, up there on the boards with the acrobats and trained seals. Hard to believe you want to go on tour and live out of a suitcase for ten weeks.”

“Oh, what do you know about it, PT?” She was angry because he made her dream sound sordid.

“Not much, I guess.” He snapped his suspenders and got up.

As he made his way up toward the bowling alley, she shouted, “Why did
you
leave home?” Horrified at her outburst, she clamped her hands over her mouth, ducked her head, and ran for the big house.

 

****

 

Safe in her room that night, Gracie placed her writing tablet on her lap and turned to her list of things to work on. Organizing it a little, she added “Make New Friends” and wrote “Dorothy” underneath. Thinking how kind it was of Olivia to take Gracie back to her workshop to protect her from Bessie, she wrote “Olivia.” She started to write
PT’s
name but then erased it, deciding that two conversations did not a friendship make, especially since today’s was a fiasco in her opinion.

Lifting her jewelry box off the dresser, she emptied it and counted her tips. Turning to the next page in her tablet, she examined the tally of her savings.

 

Total upon arrival = $6.00

June salary = $15.00

Tips as of June 30, 1925 = $2.25

 

She added “Tips as of July 12 = $2.75,” biting the pencil while she added the total. Twenty-six dollars. She was pretty sure a new dress would be at least half that amount. She wanted to buy sheet music so she could learn some new songs before she went on the road. A stylish hat and gloves would cost her dear as well. Sighing, she wrote these down under “Need to buy”. She set the latest tips aside to put in the hotel safe with the rest of her money. She had not permitted herself to buy anything since she had arrived at the
Crestmont
, but she would soon need toothpaste and soap. Mrs. Woods had mentioned better tips when she revised Gracie’s room assignment. She wondered if Mrs. Woods had any inkling about her financial predicament.

 

IV

 

Gracie’s new rooms were a whole new world for her. Now she
got to see what the high-end guest accommodations were like. The rooms were graced with two twin bedsteads of fine white enamel instead of a lonely twin mattress on a frame. The hardwood floors gleamed. Two windows were topped with a gold fabric valance with tasseled fringe. Venetian blinds kept the sun out. In addition to a bureau and wardrobe, each room had a desk which she was to keep stocked with
Crestmont
stationery. Next to the beds were electric call bells for the bellhop and a potted plant. Gracie regularly checked the transoms over the doors to make sure they opened and closed easily, then left them just slightly open for some air circulation. She was proud of herself for thinking of one little extra to please the guests, just like the Woods would want.

Room 58 was her favorite. It had a tiny enameled corner sink, a real clothes closet and a water closet tucked in next to it with a large siphon tank and long pull for flushing.

Checking the room again to make sure she had not missed anything, she noticed cobwebs behind the dresser. When she eased it away from the wall, a paper bag dropped to the floor. Fearing she had come upon something personal the guests wanted to hide, she hastened to put it back. She picked up the stained, yellowed bag and read “From Johnny, 1909.” Sixteen years ago! Fascinated by her find, she quickly cleared out a space in her cleaning bucket, and put the paper bag under the can of
Solvo
. Satisfied that the room was done, Gracie happily pocketed the two quarters from the tip envelope. That was far more than she had made in a week in her other rooms.

After her shift, she took her copy of
Time
from her dresser and went back to where she hid her bucket in the cleaning supply closet. Slipping the paper bag carefully inside the magazine, she carried it back to her room. She threw her tips into her yellow jewelry box for safekeeping until she could stash them in the hotel safe.

Gingerly opening the paper bag, she pulled out several oddly assorted pieces of paper and spread them out on her bed. The writing seemed to be from the same hand—small and with funny curlicues. She picked up a paper entitled
But then, again
and read:

 

I’ve fallen in love, again.

It seems like we met only—yesterday?

We’ve loved and shared…

We’ve loved and cared…

a lifetime. But then…

We only met the other day!

 

How could I have fallen in love again?

Our love spans so much time.

We’ve grown and prospered…

We’ve grown and fostered…

a loving life. But then…

We only met the other day!

 

Will I ever fall in love again?

I know we’ll meet again, some special day.

We’ll fly away…

We’ll always stay

In love, I’m sure, but then…

We only met the other day!

 

Struck by the poem, Gracie closed her eyes and let it fall onto her lap. Wondering what the next one might be about, she sifted carefully through several and chose one with “
Limerick
” scribbled in the top right hand corner.

 

Ticklish Rock

 

I once wooed a beauty so fine,

Whose lips were the color of wine.

We walked through the wood

To where Ticklish Rock stood.

I was consumed by her beauty divine.

 

Once in the precarious rock’s shadow,

I behaved like a young boy so callow.

I kissed her on the neck;


Twas
but a mere peck.

I was a nervous, timid fellow.

 

The next time at the rock, however,

I seized on a bolder endeavor.

We kissed by the rock

And were joined in wedlock.

To live joyously, happily forever!

 

Gracie chuckled. Johnny, the mystery poet, had a sense of humor. Did he write the poems or copy them off and put them in the bag? Where was Ticklish Rock? The name gave her shivers. Who was Johnny? A guest? A staffer? Who hid the bag? How long had they known each other? Had they fallen in love during a whirlwind week’s vacation or had their romance bloomed and deepened over many summers here?

She ripped off a piece of paper from her tablet and wrote down “limerick.” When she stuffed it into her uniform pocket, her fingers touched a wad of other such papers, filed away to be dealt with later.

Dying with curiosity over the identity of the poet, Gracie wondered if she should ask around. Mrs. Woods might know who Johnny was, but Gracie didn’t want to bother her. This treasure was her secret. She decided to put the poems back in the bag and save the rest for another day. Drawing out the pleasure might keep her in a happy mood longer. Besides, she felt like she had her own secret lover.

She put the bag in her drawer under her sweater. Then she removed it, wrapped the sweater around it, and laid them both back together.

 

****

 

Bessie sashayed down the hall the next evening with a smug smile on her face that disappeared the minute she spied Gracie. Deciding the confrontation could not be put off any longer, Gracie moved her weight back on her right leg, crossed her arms over her chest, and waited.

“Stole my rooms,
didya
?” Bessie snarled.

“I didn’t steal anything. Mrs. Woods assigned them to me,” Gracie said coolly, fighting the hot flush that crept up her neck.

Bessie banged
through the bathroom door in a huff. “I’ll
getcha
for this, girlie.”

Dizzy with triumph, Gracie walked as calmly as she could back to her room. Once inside, she dropped to the floor, leaned against the door and hugged herself. “I stood up to her!” Rising, she squared her shoulders and rewarded herself with another read through the Ticklish Rock Limerick.

 

****

 

“Oh, Otto, I was nearly out of my mind without my car the first two weeks this summer. Why,
Magdalena
and I had to walk all the way downtown to go to church and the Sweet Shoppe. Then I looked back on myself and said, ‘Time to pull yourself together, Dorothy, and do without some conveniences.’”

“Dorothy, the way you talk gets me every time,” chuckled Otto. “Let’s hope the next time your car gives you trouble I’ll be around to fix it for you.” He grinned when Gracie walked in. “Hey there,
blondie
, how are you tonight?”

“Well, the staff is piling in,” Dorothy said hurriedly, offering her seat to Gracie. “Isaiah and Samuel prepared a delicious stew and biscuits for tonight. I’ll put a fire under them to bring us some.”

Gracie sat down across from Otto, barely met his eyes, and asked, “So, um, how is the garage business?”

 

****

 

It was Gracie’s turn to wipe down the tables after the staff cleared their dishes. Dorothy stayed behind and asked, “Well, how did it go, dear?”

“How did what go?”

“You and Otto. I left on purpose so you could talk. I believe he likes you. He would make a nice man for you to go around with.”

“Oh.” Gracie’s cheeks tingled. “I don’t know if I am ready for that.”

“Of course you’re not ready. You haven’t bought that dress you’ve been talking about yet. I’m motoring into
Wilkes-Barre
next Thursday to attend to some personal business. That’s your day off, isn’t it?” Gracie nodded. “I would be happy for your company and could show you some nice consignment shops where you could buy a pretty dress at an affordable price.”

“Dorothy, it sounds wonderful. Thank you.”

“You’ll need something special to wear for the staff talent show anyway.”

“Talent show?”

“Oh, me, it’s the most popular concert of the season. All us staffers get together and strut our stuff for the guests. I’m beside myself at some of the antics. Maybe you could sing a song. I’ve heard you in the lounge. You have a nice voice.”

BOOK: Crestmont
2.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

FIRE AND ICE by Julie Garwood
No One Needs to Know by Amanda Grace
Campbell Wood by Al Sarrantonio
Blood Brothers by Josephine Cox
Prisoner 3-57: Nuke Town by Smith-Wilson, Simon
Starborne by Robert Silverberg