The Blue Bottle Club (12 page)

"Maris, dear!" Alice fastened a hand on Mother's elbow and steered her farther into the corner.

"Mrs. Dorn." With an arch of one eyebrow Mother extracted her arm from Alice's grasp.

"The girls and I have been talking, dear. They're all aware of how hard you've been working and"— her eyes darted to the group across the room— "how difficult it must be for you to keep up. We've decided that you shouldn't bear the burden of heading up the social committee any longer. Roberta Weston is going to take that job over. Now, I'm sure that little house of yours is very sweet," she went on in a rush before Mother had time to interrupt, "but of course you no longer have room to host the women's circle properly." She let out a piercing little giggle. "No, now, don't thank me, dear—we're just trying to be considerate of your busy schedule. Don't worry your little head about it."

Alice began to move away before Mother could respond. "Oh, by the way," she called over her shoulder, "we'll be changing the day of the circle meeting too, but I don't know just when or where at the moment. I'll let you know, all right? All right, then. Bye-bye."

Letitia moved closer and put an arm around her mother's shoulders. "She'll never call you about that circle, will she?"

"No." Mother sighed. Tish followed her gaze toward the door, where Pastor Archer stood with his wife at his side, shaking hands with people as they left. He looked up, and for a moment his gaze fixed on them and froze, as if time had stood still. Then he lowered his eyes and turned a brilliant smile on Philip Dorn and Marcella Covington, clapping Philip on the shoulder and giving Marcella a kiss on the cheek.

Mother looked around. The fellowship hall had begun to empty out, leaving behind a litter of punch cups and napkins and crumbs from the petit fours. "Someone else can clean this mess up," she muttered under her breath. Then she took Tish by the elbow and headed for the side door.

"Where are we going?" Tish whispered. In all the years they had been attending Downtown Presbyterian, her mother had never left the fellowship hall until the last plate had been washed and the last crumb swept away. "The fellowship hour isn't over yet."

"It's over for us," her mother hissed through gritted teeth. "It was over the minute your father died. Now come on—we're going home."

11

COMMENCEMENT

May 18, 1930

L
etitia stood next to Adora Archer and adjusted the neckline of her new dress. Mother wasn't nearly as adept at the treadle sewing machine as she was in the kitchen, but she had done an admirable job, all things considered. The dress was just a shade off white, with a lace-overlaid bodice and cap sleeves.

"That's a beautiful dress, Tish," Adora said.

"Thank you. Mother made it." Tish offered the confession boldly, without a twinge of embarrassment in the admission. Time was, and not so long ago, that she wouldn't have been caught dead in a dress of her mother's making, or at the very least, would never have admitted it. Now, it seemed, her mother's ingenuity was a source of pride, not shame. Things change, Mother said. Indeed they did.

Adora reached up and adjusted the gold locket around Letitia's neck—a graduation gift purchased with her mother's hard-earned money. "I've missed you at church."

"You're no doubt the only one." Tish smiled to take the edge off her caustic reply. "Sorry. I just meant—"

"I know what you meant, and you're right. I wouldn't want to go there and be snubbed every Sunday, either. But I miss you, all the same."

"Ellie and her mother haven't come back either, have they?"

Adora shook her head. "Big Eleanor never leaves the house, and most of the time—when she's not in school, anyway—Ellie is stuck there with her. Daddy went to visit a couple of times, but apparently his efforts to get Big Eleanor out of her depression didn't work. Besides, he's got his hands full with everything that's going on."

"Such as?"

"You wouldn't believe it, Tish. All sorts of people are coming, more of them every Sunday. People in rags, practically, who stand in the bread lines during the week. Some of the ladies have actually come to Daddy to complain about the smell."

Letitia suppressed a laugh. She could just see Alice Dorn holding a lace hankie over her nose and trying to escape before her designer dress was soiled by brushing shoulders with the unwashed multitudes. The past few months had instilled in Tish a sense of empathy with the poor souls who had no jobs, no food, no decent place to live. And she rather enjoyed the idea of Alice's discomfort at being forced to fraternize with the down-and-out in the name of the Lord.

"Tish! Adora!" Ellie and Mary Love appeared, as if from nowhere. "You both look so
beautiful!
Are you nervous?"

"Nervous about what?" Adora asked. "You go up, get your diploma, and that's all there is to it. I was
nervous
about final exams. Once you get past them, graduation is a cakewalk."

"Well, I'll be nervous next year when it's my turn," Eleanor admitted.

"That's because you'll be valedictorian and have to give a speech."

"Oh, but it's a wonderful time, a watershed event," Mary Love said. "It's one of the biggest moments of your life. The commencement of adulthood. It's like a rite of passage, the dawning of a new day, where—"

Ellie laughed and clamped a hand over Mary Love's mouth. "If we went to the same school, you can bet I'd let
her
give the speech."

The music started, and the graduates began to shuffle to find their places in line. "I've got to go back to the C's," Tish said. "Now, don't forget—we're having a little party at our house afterward. Mother's been cooking all weekend."

"We'll be there!" Ellie and Mary Love ran off to take their seats.

Adora put a hand on Tish's arm. "I am sorry about the church thing. And sorry we haven't seen more of each other lately. Forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive," Letitia murmured. "It wasn't your fault." She drew Adora into a hug. "You're my best friend, and nothing can change that."

"I hope not."

Tish made her way to her place in line and stood waiting as the strains of "Pomp and Circumstance" moved them forward. She had missed Adora too—and Ellie and Mary Love. So many things had changed since Christmas Day, when they shared their dreams and made their pact of friendship. Less than five months ago, everything had seemed so perfect, so well planned out. But times were changing, almost more quickly than they could keep up with the changes.

There would be no society wedding for Tish, no big house, no Philip, no children to give herself to. The society she had grown up in had rejected her. All of it had unraveled in a single moment with her father's death.

And not just for Tish, either. Now Eleanor spent most of her time taking care of her mother, and Mary Love worked harder than ever to help the family make ends meet. Adora's world was changing too, in a church that didn't know quite how to accommodate an influx of desperate, destitute people.

But for a little while, this afternoon, they would all be together again. And it would be just like old times.

Mother had worked miracles with the tiny garden. The last of the pink tulips bloomed in beds along the low stone wall, and tall purple irises rose up against the side of the house. Yellow pansies overflowed from a crumbling stone planter, and a terraced rock garden boasted pink, blue, and white creeping phlox and clumps of yellow and purple Johnny-jump-ups.

In the center of the garden, on a small brick patio, a table was spread with a lace cloth and adorned with a vase of wildflowers. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Mother set out the food, let the girls fend for themselves, and disappeared into the parlor.

At two o'clock Ellie and Mary Love arrived together, and Adora appeared a few minutes later. Letitia gave them a quick tour of the house and then led them out into the garden.

"This is beautiful!" Mary Love said. "Why, it's like a little dollhouse."

"It's home, and it's enough for me and Mother." Tish heard her own words as if someone else had spoken them. And she knew them to be true. The little carriage house, despite its limited space and modest furnishings, had become more truly home than the big house on Montford Avenue had ever been. It was the space she and her mother had created for themselves, the place in which they had found each other again—as mother and daughter, and as friends.

"Why haven't we done this before?" Ellie said as she bit into a flaky cream horn.

"Eat everything in sight, you mean?" Mary Love laughed and wiped a dollop of cream off Elbe's nose.

"No, silly. I mean, it's been months since we all got together like this. I'm ashamed, Tish, truly ashamed, that we haven't been to visit you before now."

Letitia brushed the comment aside. "We've all been busy. And, well, life seems to be a little different now than it once was."

Her comment sobered the group of friends, and they fell silent. After a while, Mary Love leaned forward and said, "I'm sorry about you and Philip, Tish."

"Sorry?" Tish burst out. "Don't be!" At Mary Love's astonished look, she went on. "Oh, it was hard at first, I'll admit. But once I saw what Philip was really like, I felt a little like Houdini escaping from that underwater coffin." She grinned. "Everybody thought Philip Dorn was such a catch. And I guess he is"—she paused—"if you want to catch the plague."

Laughter broke the ice, and soon they were all talking at once, as if the past five months had never happened. Letitia looked around the circle and smiled.
Fiancees come and go,
she thought.
But good friends are forever.

"So," Ellie said, "Adora tells us you're going to college now?"

Tish nodded. "Part-time, at least. I'll still be helping Mother with her catering, but I'm going to get my teaching certification."

"A spinster schoolteacher, is that it?" Adora winked at her.

"Well, I wouldn't go quite that far," Tish protested. "Just because Philip Dorn is out of the picture doesn't exactly mean I am. I'll find someone, someday. Someone a great deal nicer than snobby old Philip. But in the meantime, a girl's got to make a living."

"I think a lot about that day we all put our dreams in the bottle," Mary Love said wistfully. "I know things have changed, but I agree with Tish—it's too soon to give up those plans."

Eleanor smiled pensively. "I still have hopes," she murmured, "of becoming a social worker like Jane Addams. Mother needs me right now, of course, but when she gets better—"

Adora chose a sandwich from the platter and held it up, surveying it with a faraway gaze. "Well, I've made a decision to follow my dream right now, no matter what."

"And just what does that mean?" Mary Love demanded.

Adora reached in the pocket of her dress and drew out a slim folder. "This," she said dramatically, "is a bus ticket. To Hollywood, California." She waved it in the air. "I'm leaving, girls. I'm going to the West Coast to find my destiny."

"To
California!"
The reality hit Tish like a body blow. Her best friend was going to get on a bus and go all the way across the country to become an actress in the talkies! She had dreamed about it, Tish knew—they all knew—but now she actually intended to
do
it. To defy her father, to leave everything behind, including her friends. Panic gripped her, accompanied by a sudden overwhelming sense of loss and loneliness. "When will you be back?"

"Never, I hope." Adora put the ticket back in her pocket and leaned over the table. "You have to promise—all of you—that you won't tell my father. I'm leaving tomorrow night. Mama has her women's circle, and Daddy has a church board meeting. I'll be halfway through Arkansas before they even know I'm gone."

"Your father will have a stroke." Ellie's dire prediction echoed Tish's thoughts.

"He'll get over it. I'm not a child. I'm eighteen years old, with a high school diploma. I can go where I want and do what I want, and no one can stop me."

Tears sprang up in Tish's eyes, and she blinked them back. "We'll never see you again?"

"Don't be silly," Adora scoffed. "I'll write to you—to all of you. And when I'm famous, I'll send you a ticket and you can come see me."

"But where will you live? What will you do?"

"I've got it all planned." Adora let out a long breath. "I read about this boardinghouse that caters to young actresses. I've got the address and everything. I have a little money saved up—not much, but enough for a month or two. By then I'll be working and—you'll see, it will be wonderful! A real adventure, with no one to tell me what to do or how to behave."

"Adora, you're so brave!" Mary Love sighed. "You're really going to follow your dream, just like you wrote for the bottle."

At Mary Love's words, a stab of envy shot through Letitia's heart. It might be a foolhardy stunt borne of rebellion against her father's conservative ways, but Adora was, at least, taking the risk. You had to admire her for her courage.

"So then," Ellie summarized in her no-nonsense manner. "This is a farewell party as well as a graduation celebration. Let's make the best of it, girls." She lifted her lemonade in a toast. "To our dreams," she said. "May they all come true."