Eastland Read online

  I cleared my throat. “Green. But it’s hard to find green flowers.”

  “Let me worry about that.” He flashed me a mischievous smile. “You worry about the ballet.”

  “Right.” I opened my program. Tonight’s entertainment featured the Russian prima ballerina, Mademoiselle Anna Pavlova, and her troupe, accompanied by the National Symphony Orchestra.

  “Pavlova is known the world over for her dance of ‘The Dying Swan,’” Lars explained.

  “How do you know that?”

  “I read.”

  I had to smile. “You’re always full of surprises.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  I imagined a life with this mariner. We could rent a cozy, little apartment in the city. Near a trolley line, of course, so I could visit Mama, and she could come see us. Money might be tight, but I could always stay on at Western Electric. Maybe I’d take dance lessons like Mae. Lars and I could come back to Midway Gardens. Run into Karel.

  “What? Are you all right, Dee?”

  “I’m fine.” Just confused and fickle-hearted.

  Something plunked onto my program. I glanced down at the wet spot on the page before looking up. A raindrop splattered onto the bridge of my nose. A split second later, the skies cracked opened.

  Women shrieked as rain poured down. Chairs scraped across concrete and thwacked against tables. Patrons raced for the shelter of the covered terraces or the exit to the indoor garden. Lars whipped open his umbrella. I squished against him.

  “Told you one umbrella was a good idea,” he said.

  When Lars had suggested I leave my umbrella on the front porch, I had hesitated.

  “Don’t worry,” he’d said when he’d come to pick me up. “If it does rain, we can share.”

  I had tossed my umbrella aside without another thought.

  “We can’t catch a break from this rain.” Lars tilted the umbrella over my head. “Looks like our luck’s run out.”

  Luck was a matter of perspective. Right now, nestled against his broad chest, I felt pretty darn lucky. I squeezed in even tighter and looked up. Lars gazed down. Our lips seemed to be pulling in toward each other’s as though we’d been magnetized.

  A delicious tingle shot through me. I was about to get my second kiss. I worried for one fleeting second about Lars’s strength and then his lips were on mine. My apprehension evaporated. His kiss was tender and hesitant and unbelievably luscious. I pressed into him, fearing now for his safety against the overwhelming force of my desires.

  Light flooded the garden.

  “What the hell!” Lars whipped around, growling.

  Long, vertical poles had been mounted on the outer walls of the garden. Hundreds of light bulbs had been strung from the tops to the bottoms of the poles. And now someone had switched them all on. Blinding light blazed through the stormy darkness. I wanted to scream.

  “Guess we’d better head inside where it’s dry.” He shrugged, looking disappointed as we started toward the exit.

  And then, as quickly as it had started, the rain stopped. And with it, my luck.

  Lars tipped the umbrella upside down to let the water runoff. I took an unhappy step back toward my chair.

  “You can’t sit on that.” He scowled at our wet seats. “You’ll ruin your beautiful blue dress.” He studied me. I felt a rush of heat on my face. He had noticed my dress, as he’d done on the night of the wake when I’d worn that fitted, black mourning dress. “Let me get something to dry this.” Lars was looking around for help, when I picked up my wooden chair and shook it out. He laughed. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  He jiggled his own chair and then sat, leaning my way. I shifted toward him until our shoulders met. Together, we watched as excited patrons returned to the garden.

  Waiters hustled about, drying tables and chairs, and removing sloppy plates of wet food. The rows around the stage filled quickly. The musicians took their places in the orchestra pit. An awed hush blanketed the garden as the music swelled.

  Then like a feathery, white angel, Mademoiselle Pavlova pitter-patted onto the stage, balancing effortlessly on her toes. Her movements seemed unearthly, her long, lithe body bending and stretching in the most impossible ways. She was a swan—the most graceful, elegant swan that had ever existed.

  I barely blinked as she floated back and forth across the stage, her slow, flittery movements growing into a ruffled frenzy. And then she sank to the stage, fluttered her last, and died.

  Tears stung my eyes. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Somehow, Anna Pavlova had given death a beauty I thought could never exist.

  Beside me, Lars clapped wildly. “That was really something!” He turned to me. His smile dropped. “Dee, what’s the matter?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m good.” Better than I’d been in a week.

  29

  Attendance at St. Mary’s Sunday morning had thinned dramatically from Black Wednesday. Though there were still more than the normal number of parishioners, we weren’t back to anything approaching the overflow that had been forced to stand out in the rain. With the spectacle of the funerals behind us, Bishop Rhode had returned to his usual duties for the Archdiocese of Chicago. Father Raczynski would serve Mass today in the customary Polish.

  I found a half-empty pew up near the altar, genuflected on one knee and crossed myself, and then slid onto the wooden bench. I eased down the padded kneeler and knelt to pray. Mama did the same, with one slight difference. She had her string of Rosary beads draped over the fingers of her right hand. It always amazed me how she could say the Rosary and do all sorts of other tasks at the same time. Whenever I’d tried that, I would lose my place with the beads and get the prayers all messed up. But not Mama. She seemed utterly at ease with the beads, as if her Rosary was an extension of her right hand.

  I pressed my palms together and tried to concentrate. I had a lot of praying to do today. Of course, I had my usual petitions for Papa, but now I had to add something about Mae. Everyone who had loved her had to pray for her soul in Purgatory. The more offerings we made, the more we helped her gain forgiveness for her earthly sins and pass through the Pearly Gates of Heaven.

  Would Papa be at the gates to greet her? No, probably not. He had died before ever meeting Mae. Maybe Grandpa Koznecki would welcome her, or maybe Mae’s Uncle Stan, who’d passed last year, would be there with open arms. Though with Uncle Stan, there existed the very real possibility he was not yet in heaven. According to the whispers I’d overheard at his funeral, Uncle Stan had loved the whiskey and the women. If those rumors had been true, poor Uncle Stan needn’t bother pitching a tent in purgatory. He should build a home. He’d probably be there a long, long time.

  I scratched an itch beneath my chapel veil. My mind couldn’t just wander all willy-nilly, not with Mae’s eternal soul at stake. I let my hand rest on my watch. How long would it last? Could the watch run for my entire lifetime? What if I lived to be ninety? I quickly asked God to watch over my watch. I smiled to myself, thinking about God watching my watch.

  What was my problem today? I had to keep control of myself and pray, or Mae would be forced to move in with Uncle Stan. I closed my eyes. Mae’s beautiful face appeared. Lars would have liked her smile. Mae would have loved his turquoise eyes. And those big, muscular arms.

  If Father Raczynski knew what I’d been thinking, he would make me say ten Hail Marys in penance for my lustful thoughts. Good thing he didn’t know.

  I lowered my head onto my folded hands and tried to clear my mind of all impure desires, but it was no use. Lars and Karel seemed to be the only things on my brain today. And though I’d loved Mae with all my heart, I knew she would understand.

  “I don’t mind hearing about your cute mariner,” she’d probably say. “But leave my brother out of this discussion.”

  I would if I could, but I can’t. I cared about Karel too much. But I also cared for Lars.

  Over the past eight days, Karel had been transform
ed. He was no longer the selfish dandy who’d been forced to chaperone his little sister and her friend to their company picnic. Karel had become a thoughtful, patient, dutiful son who had attended to his two grieving parents. He’d made me laugh and tingle. With him, I felt safe and happy and hopeful.

  But Lars had made me all tingly as well. I never knew what to expect with him. I liked that. Though I would worry about him out there on the lake, life with Lars would never be dull.

  But a life with Karel would never be boring, either. We would travel. Mama might even be able to accompany us at times. She got along well with the Kozneckis, plus with Karel, I’d always be close to Mae. If she had lived, and Karel and I had married, Mae and I would have been related. We would have been not only the best of friends, but sisters.

  The thought struck me like a thunderclap. A sob exploded from my lips.

  “Sit,” Mama whispered to me.

  I got up from the kneeler and sank onto the pew, struggling to keep control. When I looked up, I realized that half the people in church were doing the exact same thing. Sobs and sighs rippled up and down the pews. Cicero still mourned. The town would probably carry this sadness for a very, long time. That was fine with me. Grief meant the dead would not be forgotten.

  When Mass was over, I shuffled along behind Mama out the doors and into the fresh air. Sunshine blinded me. How long had it been since I’d felt the sun? I stood for a moment letting the hot, sticky rays soak over my skin, down through my pores, and deep into my veins. I wanted to dry out every last remaining tear.

  Mama removed her long chapel veil, folded it, and dropped it into her purse.

  “What shall we do today, chérie?”

  What were we going to do? What we always did on Sundays. Finish the last of our sewing from the week and make a quiet supper.

  “Maybe go for ice cream? Or see a moving picture?”

  Who was this woman? I took off my own chapel veil and tucked it into the pocket of my skirt. Had I left with the wrong mother? I glanced back at the large, wooden doors of the church.

  Karel stood on the landing, waving at me. Had he been at Mass this morning? Funny, I hadn’t seen him. He strode toward us dressed in a cool, Palm Beach cloth suit with tan, cuffed trousers, and brown-and-white spats on his feet.

  “Madame.” Karel nodded to Mama and removed his Panama hat. “So good to see you again.” She took one look at him and broke into a huge smile.

  “Karel! We did not see you in Mass.”

  “I came late. Overslept. Long night.”

  I held my breath, waiting to see if he would explain about last night. Why he had really come to the ballet benefit? Was it jealousy or charity?

  “I sat in the back of church. I didn’t want to disturb either of you during Mass.”

  “Your mama? She is well? Non?”

  “She’s coping. But I worry she will never be truly healthy again.”

  “The Mama can never get over the death of her child.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it hard. “I will pray for your Mama and Mae every day.”

  “Thank you.” He teared up but then quickly blinked those tears away. “I wanted to see if you two lovely ladies would care to join me for supper? I know this wonderful little Italian place.”

  “We were just talking about our plans for the day. I will let Delia decide what we should do this afternoon.” Mama and Karel looked at me, waiting for my response.

  But I couldn’t answer. I could only stare. At Lars. Who was strutting up the sidewalk.

  He wore navy trousers and a collared shirt with a Kelly-green bow tie. It was the first time I’d seen him out of uniform. He looked great in everyday clothes, but I couldn’t help wondering how he’d found a tie wide enough for his thick neck.

  “What … what’re you doing here?” I was startled, excited, and nervous all jumbled together.

  “I came to tell you I had a wonderful time last night.”

  Karel made an odd gurgling noise.

  “Mrs. Pageau!” Lars exclaimed. “You look lovely this morning.”

  I was touched by Lars’s genuine tone. But obviously Karel wasn’t, because he let out an even weirder sound.

  “You look different today, Mr. Nee-el-son.” Mama’s manner was hesitant. I wondered if she’d picked up on the tension in the air. “But nice.”

  “Thank you. But like we talked about last night, you have to call me Lars.”

  She smiled and then quickly covered her mouth. She glanced at Karel.

  His expression was twisted and sour, as though he’d tested a bad batch of candy.

  “I was hoping to find you and your mother on your way home from church.” Lars appeared relaxed, as though an awkward situation like this happened to him every day. Or maybe like he’d planned it all along. “Are you ladies hungry? Because I heard about this great—”

  “I’ve invited them to eat with me today!” Karel broke in. “Have they given you an answer yet?”

  “No, but …” Karel looked back and forth between me and Mama.

  “I see Father Raczynski.” Mama waved to the priest, who was standing in the midst of a group of parishioners. “I must talk with him.” And before I could stop her, Mama scampered off, leaving me alone with the two of them.

  I began to sweat. I was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the August sun.

  “Well?” they shot at me.

  “Well, what?” My dread had turned to annoyance. “What do you want from me?”

  “I’d like to take you to a Cubs game next week.” Lars swung a pretend bat, and then clucked his tongue as though he’d hit a home run. “It may not be a benefit, but it should be fun.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about that trip to Mackinac Island. You remember, the trip to the Grand Hotel we’d talked about on our date last Friday night?”

  “You’re going away with him? To a hotel?” Lars spun on Karel. “How dare you!”

  “How dare I what?”

  Lars stepped up to Karel’s face. Karel was a few inches taller, but Lars was a few inches broader.

  Neither seemed to notice the differences.

  “Listen, sailor-boy. You can’t sweep into Dee’s life and think she’s going to sail off into the sunset with you.”

  “What? Me?” Lars thumped Karel in the chest with a thick finger. “I’m not the one whisking her off to a hotel.”

  Karel flicked Lars’s finger from his chest. Lars’s hands fisted.

  Karel tossed his hat onto the grass and threw up his fists. They swayed back and forth like two cobras ready to strike.

  I screamed.

  30

  “Stop it, you two!” Karel and Lars turned and stared at me, their fists frozen in midair.

  “I’ll talk to you when you put down your hands.”

  The two men growled and then slowly lowered their arms.

  “That’s better. Now, Lars. For your information, I’m not going to any hotel with Karel. Well, not alone. I’ll be with his parents. His grief-stricken parents, who would like my company and need my consolation. You do remember them, don’t you?”

  Lars hung his head, nodding to the concrete.

  “And you, Karel.” I whirled on him. “For your information, I’m not sailing off into the sunset with Lars or anyone else. Not right now when I have so much to figure out about myself and my new life.” I expelled a tight breath. “This is hard for me to say, but, well, I like you both.”

  I tried to read their expressions, but they both appeared stone-faced. Maybe they had already figured this out.

  “Since you two can’t seem to agree on anything, I’d like to offer a compromise.”

  “I’m listening,” said Karel. But he didn’t look happy about it. “Me too!” Lars added quickly.

  “What I would really, really like … is to not have to choose. I want to get to know each of you better. What I’m trying to say is that I’d like to see both of you.”

  Their stone faces looked surprised. So maybe they hadn�
��t worked out every aspect of this relationship puzzle.

  “It’s an unusual request, but these are extraordinary times. And you are both such extraordinary men.”

  Lars gave a big, toothy grin. Karel offered a dimpled smile.

  “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ from each of you?” They both nodded. “Good.”

  “So how will this work, exactly?” Lars asked.

  “Yeah, how?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers.”

  They both laughed. “We thought you did,” said Karel.

  “Afraid not, fellas. But I do know one thing. I thank you both for the generous offers of lunch. But today is for Mama. I’d like us to spend the whole day together. That okay with you two?”

  “Sure!” they both said.

  They looked relieved, as though they’d been expecting something else. Something worse.

  Karel stepped forward. “Have fun today.” He pecked my cheek.

  “Thank you. I think we will. And you say hello to your parents from me. You start back at Brach’s tomorrow?”

  He nodded.

  I laced my fingers through his. “Could be a tough day. Stop by after work if you want to talk.”

  “I just might do that.” Karel squeezed my hands.

  I found myself drawn to that dimpled chin, those gorgeous lips. I kissed him, fast and hard. We both stood for a moment, stunned by the intensity of our emotions.

  “Mae would be proud of you,” I whispered to him.

  “She’d be delighted with the confident woman you’ve become. Think you’re ready for the suffragettes?”

  “Maybe. I’ll let you know when I join the movement.”

  “Please do. I’ll give you Mae’s sash.” He smiled, though kind of sadly, and stepped back.

  Lars came up to me. “I’m making the daily back and forth between Chicago and Milwaukee on the Chris Columbus. Means I’ll be back in town every night. So may I call on you on Wednesday? Maybe go for some ice cream?”

  Karel cleared his throat.