Remembering the Titanic (9 page)

Elizabeth knew about the rooftop restaurant at the Victoria. Her mother thought it “vulgar,” and would be horrified if she knew Elizabeth had actually gone there. “I don’t see how I can make my mother any angrier than she already is, so perhaps I will go.” Glancing down at her white middy and navy blue knife-pleated skirt, she asked, “Can I go dressed like this? I have no evening clothes with me.”

Max cared little about clothes. He shrugged. “You can wear whatever you want. Anne won’t be dressed up. She never is.”

Elizabeth nodded. A large, plain girl, Anne often dressed in suits, bought at thrift shops, claiming they were more comfortable than “stupid hobbled skirts which make it impossible to walk freely.”

“I’ll go to the Victoria, then. But I don’t want to worry my mother, so I’ll have to be home by ten.” She would deal with Nola’s anger then.

They had a wonderful time in Central Park. When they had tired of riding, Max spread an old but clean blanket in an uncrowded, grassy spot, where they ate a delicious lunch of cold chicken and potato salad, topped off with thick slices of chocolate cake. While they ate, they watched people playing lawn tennis, walking their dogs, bicycling by, and Elizabeth marveled, as she always did, at the sheer number of people who frequented the enormous, beautiful park in the heart of the city. It was a wonder to her that this valuable piece of real estate had never been sold to a developer to put up yet another cluster of skyscrapers. She hoped it never would be, but that seemed unlikely.

Max had brought along a ball. They played catch in the sunshine for nearly an hour. Elizabeth could feel the sun’s heat on her face, and knew Nola would remark on it first thing. “You might at least have worn a hat to protect your fair skin from sunburn,” she would say. That is, if she spoke to her daughter at all.

When they were resting on the blanket following their game of catch, Max asked, “You’re not feeling bad, are you? About deserting your mother, I mean?”

“We were just going shopping, Max. It isn’t as if we had dinner plans or tickets to the opera. I am so tired of shopping, and I told her that.”

Max traced the outline of her cheek with one finger. His eyes were very tender, his smile sweet. “You stood up to her to be with me. I can’t tell you how good that makes me feel, Elizabeth. And you were right, I
wasn’t
sure you would come today. You’ve been so different lately. Ever since we came back….”

Elizabeth put a finger against his lips. “Shh! I don’t want to talk about coming back, because if we do, then we might end up talking about what we came back
from
, and I don’t want to do that. Not today. I
do
want to, sometime. Just not today, all right? Let’s just pretend we met right here, in New York, maybe even here in the park. Wouldn’t that be fun? We could pretend we just met, right here, today.”

Max shook his head solemnly. “Oh, no, we can’t pretend that. Because if we’d just met, I couldn’t do this. It wouldn’t be proper.” And he leaned over and kissed her.

To Elizabeth it was the sweetest kiss they’d shared in a long while. The beauty of the park, the sun warming her clear through to her bones, the budding trees, the clear blue sky overhead, and Max holding her, all combined to make the afternoon so pleasurable, she was willing to take whatever the consequences might be for her defiance. She was feeling happy again and young again, and loved again.

As their lips parted, Elizabeth laughed softly.

“What’s funny?” Max began packing the picnic basket, a sign that he was ready to leave.

“I was just thinking, if my mother had seen that kiss, she would add ‘a public display of affection’ to my list of offenses, and I wouldn’t be allowed to leave the house again until I was forty-five years old. Maybe fifty. She detests public displays of affection.”

Max glanced around. “There are other couples kissing.”

Elizabeth laughed again. “Yes, but those young women are not related to my mother.”

When they had rested a while from their bicycle ride back to Max’s apartment building, they set out to meet Anne, Bledsoe, and Max’s friend Gregory at the Victoria. She couldn’t wait to tell Anne she’d decided to stay in the city for the summer, and apply to college. Anne wouldn’t believe her, of course. “You and your mother are going to grow old together,” she’d said one afternoon when they were browsing in the library. “Doesn’t that make your blood run cold?”

Elizabeth almost answered, “But, Anne, my blood always runs cold. It has for nearly a year now.”

Now, holding Max’s hand in hers, walking to his car, Elizabeth felt lighter of heart than she had in a very long time. I wish I lived here in Greenwich Village, too, she was thinking. There is so much going on here. Even in late evening, the Village streets were busy with people. Twilight cast a pale purplish glow over the budding trees and the red and brown brick buildings. On Murray Hill, the streets would be hushed and deserted as families prepared for their evening meal. But here, the streets were as crowded as at midday.

Elizabeth continued to daydream. I would like to have my own little apartment, like Max, and walk to the store on the corner to buy food for my dinner, and maybe have a nice job teaching school or as a secretary. To have my own money, my own home, to be independent and not have to go clothes shopping every day of my life, that would be heaven. She had read about secretaries in
Collier’s
magazine. She would live in her own apartment, probably a walk-up, and work in a nice office in one of the tall buildings. On weekday mornings, she would get up and dress for work in a simple suit, water the plants on her windowsill, eat an egg or a biscuit with her coffee, then run to catch a trolley car or perhaps the subway to her office building. She would lunch at Child’s with the other girls, and once a week they would all go to the movies after work, and maybe to the Automat for dinner. One article she had read mentioned how tasty the Automat’s raisin pie was. She had never had raisin pie.

But, she thought soberly, before I can get a job of any sort, I need to know how to
do
something for which someone would be willing to pay me. I need to know
more
. I need to go to college.

If she didn’t get to Vassar, she could go to the City College of New York. CCNY wasn’t as expensive as Vassar, that much she knew. If she worked and saved her money, perhaps she could afford a few classes there.

But what would she do about Nola? “Take care of your mother….”

Unwilling to ruin the lovely afternoon by wishing for what she didn’t yet have and wasn’t sure she ever would, Elizabeth put all thoughts of college out of her head and concentrated on the pleasant time at hand.

She would deal with her mother when she got home.

B
LEDSOE AND
A
NNE WERE
waiting for Max and Elizabeth in front of the Victoria. He looked splendid, if a bit theatrical, in a long, black cape and aviator spectacles. Anne was dressed in a brown suit and black bowler hat. They looked to Elizabeth as if they had just come from performing in a play on Broadway. “So, Betsy,” Anne said as Max and Elizabeth joined them, “how’d you get out of your cage? Pick the lock?”

Elizabeth laughed, though she winced at the nickname, which Anne knew perfectly well she hated. It reminded her of Betsy Winslow and her twenty-two place settings of china.

“I hope you like this place,” Bledsoe said to Elizabeth. “I don’t think it’s what you’re accustomed to.”

“Then I’m certain I’ll like it,” Elizabeth said, laughing lightly.

And she did. And it
wasn’t
what she was accustomed to. Nola would have loathed it. It was noisy and merry and very entertaining. The singing waiters actually knew how to sing, the trained monkey was adorable although Elizabeth couldn’t help wincing just a bit when he landed on a table where people were eating, the music, much of it ragtime, very upbeat. It was very like a New Year’s Eve party … but not among her mother’s crowd … much more fun than that.

The best part was dancing with Max. She hadn’t danced with him since the
Titanic
. The annual Farr Christmas party last year had of course been cancelled, so there’d been no dancing over the holidays. It was wonderful to be in his arms, and at some point, Elizabeth smiled up at him and said, “I’m not cold.”

He didn’t hear her over the noise of music and laughter and feet pounding around the dance floor. He bent his head. “What?”

“I’m not cold!” she shouted in his ear. “Maybe it’s because there are so many people in here, or maybe it’s because we’ve been dancing so much, but I’m warm down to my bones for the first time in … in a very long time.”

Max grinned. “Maybe it’s because your bones know you’re taking them off to college.”

“I don’t know that yet, Max,” she cautioned. “I said I have to come up with an
idea
. A way to get there without breaking my promise to my father. And if you ask me,” she added, faking a pout, “you don’t seem at all unhappy over the prospect of me going away. Aren’t you going to miss me?”

He pulled her closer. “Am I ever! But you’re not going to be that far away. I’ll drive up to see you, and you’ll be home on weekends, won’t you? You won’t have to spend every minute with your mother, will you?”

“My mother,” Elizabeth said, resting her cheek on his shoulder, “probably won’t be speaking to me.” Reminded that she still had her mother’s wrath to face when she got home, she asked Max what time it was. He stopped dancing and pulled out his pocket watch. Elizabeth gasped. “Ten o’clock? How did it get so late? Oh, Max, I have to go. She’s already furious with me.”

He understood. “I’m just glad we had such a grand day,” he said as he drove her home. “I wish we could do this more often.”

If I lived in the Village, we could, Elizabeth thought. But living in the Village would have to wait until she’d finished school. Then, maybe…

When Max had parked in front of the Farr house, they were both unwilling to see the day end. They sat in the car so long, Elizabeth was surprised that her mother didn’t come rushing out of the house to drag her inside. “I could come in with you,” Max offered. “Defend you, like a knight in shining armor.”

Elizabeth laughed. “That’s so sweet. But I’ll survive, I promise. I’ll telephone you tomorrow and let you know how bad it was.”

They parted reluctantly, with one last, satisfying kiss to get them through the night … and to give Elizabeth added courage.

Then, taking a deep breath and letting it out, she went up the steps and into the house.

She was fully prepared to confront an angry parent. What she was
not
prepared for was the sight of Alan Reed, her former fiancé, chatting away in the parlor with Nola, who looked far from angry. Instead, when Elizabeth appeared in the doorway, her mother smiled. “Well, here she is! Look who’s come to call, Elizabeth, isn’t this lovely? Alan was just in the neighborhood. He was wondering how we were and decided to pay us a visit! And you’ll never guess, dear, he’s agreed to go with us to Atlantic City!” Suddenly aware of Elizabeth’s appearance, she frowned and added, “Well, my goodness, Elizabeth, what
have
you been up to? Your hair … and there are grass stains on your skirt.”

Elizabeth remained in the doorway. She barely nodded a greeting to Alan, who stood beside the fireplace, a china cup in his hand. “I went on a picnic, Mother. You get grass stains on a picnic.” If she knew about the kiss in the park, grass stains would seem trivial in comparison.

And did Nola really think her daughter so stupid that she’d believe Alan was just “in the neighborhood”? He had been
summoned
. That was clear. And to invite him along on their summer vacation! How dare she!

And had she forgotten, or was she just ignoring, Elizabeth’s vow not to leave the city this summer? “I’m not going, Mother. Did you forget?”

“Of course you’re going. Elizabeth, you have never spent a summer in the city. You don’t know how intolerable the heat becomes.
No one
stays here during the hottest months. The city is deserted.”

It was true, Elizabeth had never spent a summer in the city. Ever since she was a small child, the Fairs, along with everyone else they knew, had summered at the seashore in Atlantic City, or on Long Island Sound at their summer house, or in the Catskills, where it was always cooler. Nola had sold the summer house last year, saying she couldn’t bear to visit there, with so many “memories of Martin.” But there were numerous invitations from friends who had homes on the Sound, if they chose to go there.

Elizabeth knew that New York, at least in her neighborhood, was virtually a cemetery during the hottest months. All of her friends would be away. Not that she saw them that often anymore, what with spending so much time with her mother. Most of the girls she’d gone to school with were engaged now and busy planning their weddings.

Elizabeth moved on into the room and sank into one of the white velvet chairs flanking the fireplace. Alan, who had lost a bit more hair and gained a few more pounds, looked no more attractive to her than he ever had. But when he smiled his banker’s smile at her, she returned the smile because it seemed petty not to. It wasn’t Alan’s fault that Nola manipulated people as if they were figures on a chessboard. And he was a decent sort, though no more interesting than the chessboard itself. Elizabeth would have felt worse about breaking the engagement, had Alan accepted the news differently. He had simply nodded and drawn on his pipe, as if she had said, “It’s not going to rain tomorrow” instead of “I’m not going to marry you, Alan.”

Later, Nola had excused his lack of reaction by explaining, “He knew you were grieving for your father, Elizabeth. Alan is much too considerate to put his own needs ahead of yours.”

Elizabeth had raised an eyebrow. The only needs Alan Reed seemed to have, as far as she had ever seen, were eating, smoking his pipe, and riding horses. She truly believed that if one of his horses died he’d have far more emotional a reaction than he’d had upon learning that Elizabeth Fair wasn’t going to marry him.

So what was he
doing
here, after all this time?