The Blue Bottle Club (26 page)

"Mother, I'm going to sit with my friends. I'll catch up with you after the service."

Before her mother had a chance to object, Ellie made good her escape, but she could feel her mother's eyes boring into her back as she made her way down the aisle. A wave of guilt washed over her. It was Christmas Eve, after all. And although Mother would never admit it in a thousand years, she probably was lonely, missing Father, and wanting to share the service with her daughter, the only family she had left.

But she never says that,
Ellie's mind protested. Mother never gave any indication of tenderness toward her or her own needs for love and closeness. The sole basis for their interaction was her mother's demands and her own capitulations. All her life, it seemed—or at least since Ellie's father had died when she was nine—Ellie had walked on eggshells, trying desperately to make Mother happy.
No,
Ellie thought,
that's not right. Mother isn't capable of
being happy. She's only capable of being less disgruntled.
Despite a life of relative wealth and ease, Eleanor James the Elder did not seem the least bit inclined to enjoy her privileged situation. She depended upon her status but still seemed determined to focus on the bleakest, most dismal aspects of every situation. And thus had fallen to Ellie the responsibility of ordering the circumstances of their lives so that her mother's melancholy would be minimized.

Because Ellie had been named after her mother, their friends had for years referred to them as Big Eleanor and Little Eleanor. Ellie hated the name; it made her feel as if she were destined to become like her mother—a fate she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy. She loved Mother, of course—loved her with the determined duty and suppressed rage of an only daughter. But she had no intention of following in her footsteps. Her whole life, and all her aspirations for the future, focused on a single objective—to prove that she had been wrongly named.

Hidden in a drawer beneath her undergarments was proof of that determination—a statement of her secret dreams, which tomorrow afternoon she would share with her three best friends. They might not understand, but at least they would encourage and support her.

When Tish had come up with the idea that they all write out their dreams and make a commitment to each other to see those dreams fulfilled, everything had come clear to Ellie. For years she had struggled with attitudes she couldn't articulate—the suspicion that she had been adopted, because she was so radically different from the woman she called Mother. The desire to do something—anything—to prove that she wasn't "Little Eleanor." The longing, bordering on desperation, to make her life and future meaningful and significant.

She had begun writing aimlessly, rambling on about her feelings concerning Mother, her hatred of the wealthy social circle that absorbed her mother's time and attention, her feelings of closeness with Mary Love, and how she fit better into Mary Love's middle-class world than she did her own world of wealth and privilege. Then, as she continued to write, something miraculous happened. A vision took shape in her mind and translated itself into words on the page—her calling, her destiny.

Eleanor James the Younger intended to put behind her the entitlements of her station as a daughter of wealth and give her life to helping those less fortunate than herself. She had read and reread her dog-eared copy of
Twenty Years at Hull House
and had taken Jane Addams as her personal hero. That, Ellie thought, was what life was all about—offering a hand to those in need. Voluntarily abdicating rank and privilege in order to live among the poor and be a champion for them. It was a noble cause, and she felt a heady sense of liberty just thinking about it.

Her best friend, Mary Love Buchanan, had already warned her that Big Eleanor would have a fit when she found out. But Ellie didn't care. If she stayed here, in her mother's aristocratic, self-centered world, she would certainly lose her mind before she was twenty. No, Ellie James would go where the greatest need was, and she would make a difference in the world.

December 25, 1929

As Ellie left Cameron House and walked home, a chill wind raised goose bumps on her arms and set her blood racing. She had done it. She had declared, in front of God and everybody—or at least in front of her three closest friends—her intention to immerse herself in the culture of the Have-Nots and do everything in her power to improve their miserable and hopeless lot. She could already envision herself in the teeming city of Chicago, laboring beside Jane Addams at Hull House, becoming a social worker whose commitment to change made a radical difference in other people's lives.

Tish's father seemed certain that this stock market crash would turn around soon enough, that the economy would right itself and things would get back to normal. He kept reassuring Mother that if she would resist panicking and wait it out, she'd come out just fine. But Ellie didn't believe it. And even if the economy did recover, the Crash had already done irreparable damage. She had seen the homeless people standing in line for food, and she was certain it was worse in the big cities. Folks like her mother and the Camerons would no doubt recover, but the little people who had lost their jobs and homes and life savings wouldn't be so lucky. They would need social workers like Ellie and Miss Addams.

A mental image of Mother's pinched, disapproving scowl overshadowed Ellie's noble picture of hersilf at Jane Addams' side, giving aid and succor to the poor. Mother wouldn't like it one bit, that much was certain. She would undoubtedly accuse Ellie of abandoning her, would load on the guilt with a shovel and leave her daughter feeling as if she had committed some unspeakable crime by not wanting to live her mother's life.

Ellie would have to be strong. She had wasted a great deal of time and effort over the years acceding to Mother's incessant demands, but the time would come—and soon—when she would have to stand up to the woman and refuse to give in anymore. She had already taken the first step by revealing her dreams to her friends, and it gave her a heady, glorious sense of freedom to know that as soon as she graduated from high school—only a year and a half from now—she would be on her way to becoming her own person. No longer Little Eleanor James.

Perhaps she'd be known as Little Jane Addams instead.

Now, that was a shadow she wouldn't mind standing in.

January 1, 1930

Ellie sat in the front parlor of Cameron House and watched with stinging eyes and a heavy heart as Letitia Cameron tried in vain to comfort her mother. She knew all too well what it felt like to lose a father, and she understood the grave responsibility that had been laid on Tish's shoulders, to be her mother's primary source of support. But Maris Cameron was a strong woman, a loving, open-hearted woman—the kind of person Ellie always wished her own mother would be. Maris would get through this, even as difficult and heartbreaking as it was. Ellie wasn't nearly as certain of her own mother's ability to weather the storm.

When Father had died, Randolph Cameron had persuaded Mother to let him handle her finances. It didn't take much to convince her, of course—Mother had never had a mind for business and no intention of developing one. Big Eleanor was quite content to turn it all over to Randolph Cameron, who headed up the most prestigious and well-respected brokerage firm in town. And he had done well by her too, investing so wisely that she had enough to support her for several lifetimes—even in the lavish style to which she was accustomed.

In Ellie's mind, her mother's wealth translated into thousands of children fed, the poor clothed and housed and educated. But Big Eleanor had no such philanthropic notions about the way money should be spent. She lived high and showy—wearing expensive clothes, throwing elaborate parties, and wielding almost unlimited influence in her social circle. The truth was, Ellie was ashamed of her mother and couldn't wait to be free of her expectations.

Mary Love Buchanan stood nearby, fingering a rosary and sending commiserating glances in Ellie's direction. Ellie rarely saw her friend pray, except on those infrequent occasions when she accompanied Mary Love to Mass. Mrs. Buchanan supplied enough prayers for the entire city, Mary Love often complained, keeping God too busy to pay much mind to anyone else. But this situation was different—the suicide of Letitia's father had been enough to drive them all to their knees.

Everyone was focused on Tish and her mother, doing whatever they could by word or presence to bring comfort in this time of shock and grief. All except Big Eleanor. She sat slumped in an overstuffed parlor chair staring at the rug and muttering, "What's to become of me now?"

"Mother, hush," Ellie snapped. Randolph Cameron was dead, for heaven's sake. Tish and Maris's grief was far more important than Big Eleanor James's concern about her finances and her self-absorbed fears for the future.

But when the sheriff and Pastor Archer returned from Randolph Cameron's study with a thick file folder, the expressions on their faces told Ellie that her mother might have reason to be concerned.

"We found something that might help explain this . . . ah, situation," the sheriff began.

Situation. A man was dead, discovered by his only daughter, hanging from the attic rafters, and the sheriff referred to it as a
situation.
Ellie's eyes locked on Tish's hopeless expression, and she cringed.

"Everything's gone," Pastor Archer affirmed with a deep sigh. "Stocks, bonds, everything." He turned toward Ellie and her mother. "Yours, too, Eleanor. I'm sorry."

Mother let out a moan, then began protesting that Randolph had promised her it would get better if she'd only bide her time. "He said to wait," she mumbled over and over again. "Just to wait. He said—"

"He didn't wait long enough," Pastor Archer explained. "The market
is
recovering, but apparently Randolph panicked. He sold everything, for almost nothing, just trying to keep his head—and yours, Eleanor—above water."

Reality jolted through Ellie's veins like an electric shock. For years—almost as long as Ellie could remember—her mother had been utterly dependent upon her wealth and status. Her position in society defined her; what would she be without it?

"You didn't mortgage your house, did you, Eleanor?" Pastor Archer was asking.

Mother shook her head numbly. "No."

"Then you'll be all right. There's enough to live on . . . as long as you've got a place to live." He turned and gave an apologetic shrug in Maris Cameron's direction. "I'm afraid you're not so fortunate, Maris. These records show that Randolph took a loan on the house—a big one—for investment capital."

"We found a will that leaves everything to you," the sheriff put in. "But I'm afraid it isn't much—only your personal possessions, furniture, and a little cash."

Ellie felt as if she had been hit in the stomach with a cannonball. All her plans for becoming a social worker like Jane Addams, so that she could help those less fortunate than herself, now rose up to mock her. Suddenly
she
had become one of the less fortunate—she and her mother, along with Tish and Maris Cameron. And she hadn't the faintest idea what to do to make it better.

All Ellie knew was that everything had changed in an instant. And she had the sinking feeling she was about to find out what it meant, that old saying that charity begins in your own backyard.

26

LIFE SENTENCE

January 1, 1940

E
llie positioned the calendar on the hook behind the kitchen door and stared at it. January. A new year. No, she thought. Not a new year. Just
another
year.

Was it possible that ten full years had passed since that terrible day when Randolph Cameron had taken his own life—and with it Ellie's hopes for the future? It hardly seemed possible, but the calendar didn't lie.
1940.

Ten years gone, just like that? It had been ages since she'd seen any of her friends. Mary Love had long since moved away. Adora, rest her soul, had died years back of the influenza. Letitia was still in town, but as busy as she was with teaching and helping with her mother's booming catering business, it had been more than a year since she had visited. Life went on, for everyone except Ellie.