Eastland Page 13

  He tucked the bottom of his moist handkerchief back into his pocket, feathering the top of the kerchief for flourish. As if anyone were around to notice.

  “I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you. But Western Electric has been devastated by the loss of nearly five hundred employees. That’s why we need you to help hire replacements.”

  I thought of the desperate, silver-haired woman. “No! I’m not up to that.”

  “I’m sorry to put this on you, but you’re the only candidate.” He nodded toward the room. “Poor Mrs. Tomaso is in no condition.”

  I looked back at Maria, who was still crying.

  “Okay, not Maria. But not me! There must be another solution.”

  “You have the experience and the skills. You can do this.” He opened the department door. “Starting now, you’ll report to the personnel office for training.”

  24

  After a week of downpours, drizzles, and overcast skies, the rain had finally let up, though not before leaving behind a humid reminder of its irritating presence. I unbuttoned my cuffs and rolled up my long sleeves after picking up my weekly pay envelope on Friday evening. The number of unemployed still clamoring for jobs outside the north gate had thinned since Thursday morning. Western Electric security guards seemed to be handling the situation on their own without the help of the Cicero police.

  Mr. Bruno, my bulldog friend from yesterday, trooped up and down the line, demanding order.

  “Anyone causes trouble, can take it up with this.” He thrust his handy billy club into the air. He had turned to march back, when he spotted me. “Make way! Step aside.”

  I gave Mr. Bruno a wave of thanks and dashed through the outer yard to the street.

  “Yoo-hoo, Dee!” Dolly rushed up to me all breathless and sweaty. “How’s the hiring going? Meet any handsome prospects? Or two?” She gave me a teasing nudge. “One for you. One for me.”

  I laughed. “Hey, I’m not your private match-making service, you know.”

  “Couldn’t hurt to keep your eyes open.”

  “Well, maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll keep one eye open for you.” I shoved her playfully away.

  We laughed as we crossed Cicero Avenue. Dolly headed north toward busy Twenty-Second Street. I continued west along my new, direct route.

  “So, what’re your plans for—Hey! Where ya going, Dee?”

  “Home.”

  “Don’t you usually go this way?”

  “Used to. Now I go this way.”

  “But I thought we might …” Dolly hesitated. “Maybe we could walk home together? I want to hear what you’re up to on Saturday night.”

  “Nothing,” I mumbled as thoughts of Lars and the ballet flittered across my mind.

  “Own up. Who is he?”

  “Who is who?”

  “That fella you were thinking about. I saw you smile.”

  “There’s no one. Really, no one.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Dolly turned her back on me. I rushed after her.

  “Honest. I have nothing special going on tomorrow night.” I wiped the sweat from my face. “How about you?” I said, trying to change the subject. “What’re you doing Saturday?”

  “Normally, I’d go roller skating at the Arcadia Ballroom or dancing at that swanky, new Midway Gardens. But now, well, I’ve lost so many of my partners.” She let out a long sigh as though she were on the verge of tears. My heart pinched with pity.

  Rumor had it that both of Dolly’s parents had died of drink. Dolly now lived with her grandmother, a sixty-year-old woman with a stooped back and rheumatism. Dolly was the only breadwinner in the household. She had to feel the pressure. So what if she wanted to let off a little steam on a Saturday night?

  “Maybe you could do something else.”

  “By my lonesome?” She shook her head, her mop of red curls jiggling. “I’ll probably stay in and keep Grandmum company.”

  We had passed the corner tavern and were approaching the greengrocer when it dawned on me that I had followed Dolly down Twenty-Second Street.

  “Dee! Dolly!” Mr. Mazurski waved to us. “Oh, my dear girls! I’m so happy to see you!”

  The greengrocer scooped us up and squished us mercilessly in his hairy arms. He reeked of onions and bananas and peppers. The combination made me queasy. I held my breath, my air running dangerously low by the time he finally released us.

  “You kids would stop by on your way home. And now …” Mr. Mazurski dabbed at his teary eyes with his apron and then plucked up two yellow pears from the bushel beside him. “On the house.”

  I took the fruit and thanked him. Dolly snatched up her pear and dropped it into her lunch basket.

  “Grandmum will love this!” She pecked Mr. Mazurski on the cheek. He lifted his apron and wiped his eyes again.

  “Stosh! You promised you weren’t going to carry on so!” Mrs. Mazurski closed the cash drawer. Her register chimed. “These girls are alive. Be happy to see them.”

  “Mrs. Mazurski’s right. We’re alive and well. Pinch me. Go ahead.” Dolly held her arm out for Mr. Mazurski, who gave her skin a hesitant tweak. Dolly laughed and threw her arms around him. “Now don’t you cry. We promise to come see you every day.”

  Maybe Dolly would come this way every day, but I had my own route home.

  “Grandmum wants some celery,” Dolly said. “What else do you have for her soup?”

  Mr. Mazurski brightened. “How about a nice bunch of carrots?”

  I wiped the pear on my skirt, relaxing against an outside brick wall under the shade of the shop’s orange awning to eat while Dolly shopped. When she’d finished, she opened her pay envelope and tipped out a few coins.

  “How much?” she said to Mrs. Mazurski.

  “Nothing!” Mr. Mazurski charged toward the register. “No money today, not from these girls.”

  His wife glared at him, but the greengrocer stood his ground. Dolly took back her pennies.

  “Ready, Dee?” She set her assortment of vegetables into her basket. I took two more bites of my juicy pear and tossed the core into the gutter.

  We strolled along the boulevard past Giuseppe’s Barber Emporium and the butcher shop. At the corner, Dolly stepped off the curb as a man on a bicycle peddled past. Puddle water sprayed her in the face.

  “Watch it!” Dolly wiped her cheeks with her sleeve. The man on the bike waved a fist at her and yelled something in Polish or maybe Czech. Dolly shouted back in what sounded like the same language.

  “I didn’t know you spoke Bohemian.”

  “I don’t. Not really. Just picked up a few choice words here and there.”

  We darted across the intersection, making it onto the opposite curb as the Twenty-Second Street trolley pulled up alongside of us. We skirted around the line of people waiting to board. The rest of the way home, Dolly entertained me with stories about her ballroom adventures. As we neared my porch, I slowed.

  Someone sat on the bottom step.

  “What’s going on?” Dolly stopped beside me and glanced up. “Ah! So there’s your mystery man. Wait. Isn’t that’s Mae’s brother?”

  “Yes, but that’s not—” I clamped my hand over my mouth.

  “There’s two of them? Why you little rascal. Who would have thought?”

  “No! You don’t understand!”

  But it was too late. Dolly was on the run toward my house. I sprinted after her.

  “You’re Mae’s brother?” Dolly stopped short of bowling him over. “Karel? Right?” She put her hand to her heart. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am about your sister. Mae was a great gal.”

  Karel removed his boater and ran a hand over his slick hair. “Thank you, miss …”

  “Dolly O’Brien.” She smiled at him with those heart-shaped lips. My chest tightened.

  What if Karel took a liking to her? Dolly was pretty in a wild, carefree sort of way. Men seemed to love that about her.

  “I’m a friend of your Delia.” />
  “She’s teasing, Karel.” I skidded to a halt in front of him. “I’m not your Delia. What she means—”

  “Dolly’s right. This is my Delia. My dearest friend. I couldn’t have made it through this week without her.” Karel locked eyes with me. “She thinks I was her savior, but she’s been mine.”

  Isn’t that what Lars had said to me? They both thought I had saved their lives?

  But I couldn’t hold that thought because Karel was still gazing at me. He had a playful glimmer in those heather-grays, and a cocksure smile that was completely irresistible.

  “So, Karel,” Dolly cooed, as the front door opened. “What brings you to our dear Delia’s house today?”

  “I was hoping Dee might like to go for some ice cream after supper.”

  “She’d love to!”

  I jabbed Dolly in the arm. “First, I need to check with Mama.”

  Dolly was holding up a finger as though she wanted to say something, when Mama strode onto the porch. “You should go for ice cream, chérie.”

  “What? Really? You don’t need me to do any mending? Or chores?”

  “Non.” Mama looked down at Karel. “You can come back at seven?”

  He gave her a gallant bow. “Seven is perfect. Can you join us, Mrs. Pageau?”

  “What? No!” Dolly shrieked. “No mothers on dates!”

  “Sank you, Karel, but I feel a headache coming on.” Mama touched her forehead with a backward sweep of her hand. I struggled not to laugh out loud. Sarah Bernhardt couldn’t have given a more melodramatic performance. “You two young people go. Have fun.”

  Karel pressed his boater to his chest as though his heart had been broken. “Next time, then.” He turned his attention back to me. “Dee, what do you say? A little ice cream tonight with me?”

  “She’d love to go with you!”

  “Hey, I can speak for myself.”

  “I know,” said Dolly, “just trying to help the cause. Yours, not mine.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that.” I squeezed her hand. “But I can take it from here.”

  She curtsied and stepped back.

  I smiled at Karel, and all the noisy clatter of the world faded away.

  There was only him and me.

  “I’d love to go out with you tonight.”

  25

  The rain had held off all day on Friday. And now, with the promise of a clear evening as well, the line outside of Gruber’s Olde World Creamery snaked out the door and down TwentySecond Street.

  “Guess we’re not the only ones in the mood for some refreshment,” Karel said as we took our place behind all the others waiting for ice cream.

  He’d been right, of course. The whole town seemed to be yearning for something familiar and comforting and truly normal again. I pressed back against the brick wall under Gruber’s redand-white-striped canvas awning and watched as two girls played a fast game of cat’s cradle. In line behind them, twin boys boxed with one another in a mock fight. Directly in front of us, a young couple fawned over each other as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.

  Could I ever be so much in love with someone that I didn’t care about anything else? And if I were that oblivious, who would I be in love with? Karel? Or Lars? Who had Mama seen waiting just around the corner? I gazed up at Karel, hoping to find the answer in his face.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Checking to see if you were still there.”

  “I’m not going anywhere tonight without you.”

  I thanked my lucky stars for that. Karel and I were on our

  first date. My first-ever date! So what, if it wasn’t as exciting as the dates I’d heard about from Mae? Karel and I weren’t going to the theater, or the beach, or dinner at some elegant restaurant. We were out in the neighborhood for ice cream. But at least Karel and I were alone.

  I glanced at the line of people in front and behind us. Well, sort of alone.

  Karel gave me a playful nudge. “Penny for your thoughts?”

  “I was thinking of Mae.”

  “Yeah, me too.” He looked at me and smiled. At that moment, he had an expression so much like hers, my heart wrenched. “Mae sure loved Gruber’s. She couldn’t get enough of their chocolate ice cream. In the summer, we had to stop after Mass every Sunday for some.”

  “She told me about it every Monday. Made me so jealous.”

  Karel shook his head. “That’s our Mae.”

  That was our Mae.

  “I’m so glad we can talk about her like this,” he said.

  Karel and I shared the same pain. The two of us would understand each other in a way no one else in the world ever could. What a blessing that would be! Not to have to keep the ache inside. Not to have to mask my tears.

  “You keep her alive for me, Dee.”

  He leaned on the wall next to me, his shoulder touching mine, and we shared a quiet moment together, remembering Mae.

  He straightened and craned his neck. “Do you smell that?” He sniffed the air. “Roasted pecans. Mmmmm. And cinnamon.”

  Gruber’s was famous for their roasted peanut and pecan toppings, but they were also known for their homemade cinnamon ice cream. And their …

  “Hot fudge,” I drooled. “Gaaaahh.”

  “Women and chocolate. I can’t imagine a better combination.”

  I envisioned another great pairing: me and Karel. But then again … what about me and Lars?

  “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

  “Nothing.” I bit my lip. “So, ah, you really think I’m pretty?”

  “Of course. Everyone does.”

  “What about Dolly? Do you think she’s attractive?”

  “Most guys would think so, but she’s really not my type.”

  Inside, I screamed with relief. On the outside, I calmly said, “So back to me.”

  “With pleasure.” Karel took my hand. “I like a girl who has…” He kissed the knuckle of my index finger. “… smarts.” He nibbled the knuckle on my middle finger. “Beauty.” He moved onto my ring finger. “Courage.” By the time he reached my pinky, I was a quivering mess. “A girl exactly like you. Why, you’re trembling. It’s eighty degrees out. Are you cold?” Karel’s eyes glittered playfully as he felt my forehead. “Don’t seem to have a fever. I know what’ll fix you up! A double-scoop chocolate sundae.” “With lots of nuts?”

  “Nice, warm roasted pecans.”

  I shook my head. “Has to be peanuts.”

  “For you, anything.”

  A raucous party of eight burst out the door. Mr. Gruber signaled to the families with the twin boxers and the girls playing cat’s cradle, and the line moved forward. We were next, right behind the lovey-dovey couple still cooing and kissing.

  “Can’t see you acting like that in public,” Karel said in a low voice. “You’re more demure.”

  I used to be more reserved, but maybe not so much anymore.

  Some unknown piece of me yearned to act like those two lovebirds, to cause a stir and not give a damn. I wanted to get lost in someone’s eyes or smothered in someone’s arms. Yet even as those strange desires stirred, the larger, more sensible part of me knew nothing inappropriate would ever happen. The French voice in my head wouldn’t stand for such behavior. I let out a grumble.

  “You okay?” Karel studied me as the lovesick couple in front of us was shown to a table.

  “Just craving some chocolate.”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  The moment he’d said that, we were waved forward.

  Karel and I held hands as we followed Mr. Gruber across the speckled linoleum floor, past a huge German pipe organ, and along the swivel stools at the soda fountain. I glanced to the side and caught my reflection in the wall-sized mirror behind the soda bar.

  My face was frozen in a silly smile, my hand tucked inside the smooth, uncalloused fingers of the handsomest guy in Cicero. My goofy grin broadened.

  “Enjoy!” Our host pulled out a blac
k, wrought iron chair for me at a cozy table for two in the corner. I hesitated, not wanting to let go of Karel. But we had to sit, eventually. I gave his fingers a squeeze and slipped into the chair I’d been offered. Karel sat across from me. We were given two menus before Mr. Gruber bustled back to his station at the door.

  “We really don’t need these, do we?” Karel grinned, taking my menu from me. “Can I order for the both of us?”

  “To be honest, I’d like to do that for myself.”

  Karel’s smile melted like a cone in August.

  “You don’t mind? Do you, Karel?”

  The muscles in his face contorted. My gut knotted.

  “You’re such a daisy,” he said. “Of course you can get whatever you’d like.”

  Relief washed over me as a waitress appeared at our table.

  She looked to me first. “Yes, miss?”

  “Chocolate soda, please.”

  “And for the gentleman?” She turned to Karel.

  “If I might.” I held up my index finger. The waitress looked back at me, her expression annoyed. “Could you make the soda extra large? And add a second straw?”

  I watched Karel, my fingers crossed under the table.

  “You heard the young lady. Your biggest chocolate soda. And two straws.”

  “Yes, sir.” The waitress winked at me before scurrying away with our order.

  “You’re sure?” I asked, barely able to contain my delight.

  “Of course. I’d love to share a soda with you.” Karel stretched his hand across our wrought iron table and unfolded his fingers. I slipped my hand into his again. “I wanted to ask you something, Dee. Father wants to take Mother to the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island for a few weeks to rest. I’m going up to Michigan in August to visit them for a couple of days. And they, well, Mother especially, would like you to join us.” He laughed. “I’m lying. I would like you to join us. What do you think? Would you come for the weekend? Maybe take a day or two off of work and stay a little longer?”