Sorrento Girl Read online

  Mr. Ferguson walked over, poured a cup of coffee, and joined her. “How are you doing, Ann?” the old teacher asked.

  “I’m good, thanks.” Ann felt comfortable with Mr. Ferguson. She wanted to get beyond the basic pleasantries of small talk. He seemed like a friend Ann could talk to, someone who would give it to her straight. She needed a person like that right now.

  As if sensing this was so, Mr. Ferguson gave a nod toward the kitchen and said, “There’s still some soup left. Why don’t we sit and have some lunch before you go?”

  Mr. Ferguson asked Ann about how school was going, her family, and her upcoming wedding plans. He carefully listened as she explained some of the concerns she had—and more specifically, the concerns Mrs. Lewis had.

  “You know, my wife wasn't Catholic. Mary was a Methodist. Sometimes we’d go to Mass, and sometimes we’d go to her church. We’ve made it work. It’s called a mixed marriage.” He smiled, obviously enjoying the memory of his late wife. “She took some catechism classes before we were married, and I’ve done my best to learn more about her doctrine. I needed to ask for special permission from the bishop before our marriage, which he gave. It wasn’t common practice back then, or even now. We were married for fifty years, and we were happy. We never were able to have children.” He paused. “That would have made it more complicated—but you take things as they come. I never thought it was right to force a certain way of thinking on my wife. We both loved God. That, I know. Anyway, I don’t think there will be labels or denominations in heaven.”

  Ann appreciated his candor. “Wow, thank you for sharing your story with me. I would have loved to have met your wife. I feel encouraged by what you told me.”

  “I’m sure she would have loved the opportunity to meet you too. She passed away about a year ago. She used to come to the soup kitchen with me on Saturdays. She did that as long as she could until she got sick.”

  Ann had never known what it was like to have a relationship with a grandparent, as hers had all died when she was very young, but she imagined that maybe this—talking and receiving wisdom about important things—was something like it. When it was time to go, she gave Mr. Ferguson a big hug. He had given her a lot to think about.

  ***

  The beauty shop was her next stop of the day. She was meeting Helen there at two. She’d have to hurry. Ann had been chatting with Mr. Ferguson for so long that now she was running late. With one minute to spare, Ann, breathing hard from her walk up the hill, walked into the shop.

  Looking around, Ann decided she might want to turn around and get out of there before anyone saw her—but it was too late. Her friend had already seen her. Helen had been encouraging Ann to try this salon for months, but Ann had resisted, insisting she could set her own hair in waves.

  Tonight, the school was holding a spring social at the Rainier Club, and Ann wanted a new hairstyle, so she’d finally relented to Helen’s request to join her at the salon. But now, she wasn’t so sure about it.

  What was happening? Ann tried not to stare with her mouth open. A lady in the corner was hooked up to the strangest machine Ann had ever seen. She looked like an alien—or an octopus with too many legs. About fifty rods stood straight out of her head. Attached to those rods were thick wires, and those wires connected to what seemed like a light fixture, which hung about a foot over her head. The whole contraption was plugged into an electrical socket. A faint sizzling sound came from it, and steam was wafting from the rods. Was her hair being fried? To top it all off, the foul smell of ammonia permeated the entire shop, and the smell seemed to be coming from that machine.

  “Hello, Ann!” Helen said. “Alice, this is my friend, Ann. Ann, meet Alice. She’s the best stylist in the neighborhood. You’re going to love her!”

  “Welcome, Ann. It’s good to meet you. Come, sit here in this chair, and we’ll talk about what you want to do with your hair,” Alice said, directing her to the seat.

  Ann sat down cautiously. She continued to eye the lady in the corner. “It’s nice to meet you, Alice. I just want a wash and a set, please.”

  “Sure, darling. But let me tell you about something even better. How would you like it if you could have permanent waves? You would save so much time! See that lady over there? When we take her hair off those rods, she’ll have beautiful, permanent waves. All the Hollywood stars use these.” Alice pointed at the alien octopus lady.

  Helen looked like she was stifling a laugh as she watched Ann. Ann wanted to bolt. It had to be written all over her face.“Uh, not today, thank you.”

  “Okay, not a problem. Just come over to this sink then, and we’ll wash your hair.”

  Ann had to admit, the experience of having someone else wash her hair was amazing. She started to relax. After washing Ann’s hair, Alice put her hair in rollers and directed her to sit under the dryer. Helen was already sitting under a dryer in the chair next to her, reading a magazine. Then Alice went over to the octopus lady and started the process of releasing the woman’s hair from the rods. Helen and Ann watched with curiosity.

  Interest, mixed with a touch of horror, finally turned to relief when they saw that the woman’s hair was, indeed, curled and intact. Ann still wasn’t convinced she wanted to try the perm machine. Though she did decide that regular visits to the salon would be a good idea.

  When Ann emerged from the salon that day, she was quite pleased with the way her dark hair had been fashioned into glossy waves, and she felt surprisingly glamorous.

  ***

  Paul, Ann, Peggy, and Joe arrived at the Rainier Club together that night, and the party was already well underway. A jazz band was playing, and people were dancing. The room was sparkling with laughter. It all reminded Ann of the first night she had met Paul at the Olympic Hotel.

  “Hello, beautiful,” Paul said to Ann as he took her coat and hung it up for her.

  “Thank you. Want to dance?” Ann smiled and grabbed Paul’s hand, not waiting for an answer.

  Someone was singing “Pennies from Heaven” as Paul and Ann stepped onto the dance floor. They had danced to this song on that first night.

  Ann listened to the lyrics that spoke about sunshine but also the need for showers in life. She let her thoughts wander, thinking about their future together. She was head over heels in love with Paul. Her feelings hadn’t changed. If anything, her feelings had grown stronger—but they’d been dating for only four months when Paul had proposed. There was so much they hadn’t discussed yet—and there were still some big questions hanging in the air. It seemed like anytime a storm loomed on the horizon, they diverted to safer topics—how his family felt about her, what that potential newspaper job in Portland would mean for Ann’s plans to finish at Seattle College—these were the storms they ran away from. But now wasn’t the time to talk about these things either. No, not here at the dance, so Ann pushed her concerns aside and focused on how great it felt to be dancing in the arms of the most handsome man in the room.

  After the song ended, Paul went in search of some cake. Ann sat down with Peggy and Joe at a table. Peggy seemed to be blinking back tears as she quietly ripped apart a napkin in her lap.

  “Umm, I’m going to go touch up my lipstick. Peggy, do you want to come with me?” Ann asked with a smile. Peggy nodded, and the two friends went in search of the washroom. “What’s wrong, Peggy?”

  “I’m okay. Joe was telling me that he’s not going to go to graduate school at UW after all. Instead, he’s joined the navy. He leaves in June right after he graduates. I’m just a little disappointed, that’s all.” Peggy wiped a tear from her cheek. “I don’t want to see him go.”

  “Oh, honey. I’m sorry. I know you’ll miss Joe.” Putting herself in Peggy’s shoes, Ann thought of the sadness she’d feel if it was Paul leaving.

  “I’ll be fine. I was starting to have deep feelings for Joe, but I guess I was wrong about how he felt about me.” Peggy paused. “Hey, do you mind if I use some of your lipstick?” Peggy dabbed at her ey
es with a tissue, straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath, and smiled.

  “Of course, you may.” What could Ann possibly say to comfort her friend? “I don’t think his choice to join the navy means he doesn’t care for you—but I understand why you’re sad.” She gave Peggy a few minutes to collect herself. “Are you ready to go back yet?”

  When the women returned to the table, smiles were in place, and emotions were in check. But for the rest of the evening, Ann kept thinking about Peggy and Joe. Would they be able to keep a long distance relationship? At least now Peggy would have time to finish school.

  Seventeen

  It was Sunday morning, and Paul was taking Ann to visit the First Presbyterian church. Ann rifled through her closet, searching for something to wear, and decided on her gray wool suit with a white silk blouse and a simple black pillbox hat. Paul would be at the Sorrento to pick her up in an hour. She had enough time to join her friends upstairs for breakfast.

  When Ann walked into the dining room, she paused and took in the beauty of the place and the view outside. Sunlight flickered off the crystal glassware on the tables, casting rainbows on the clean white linen tablecloths. Through the large windows, Ann could see little white sailboats dotted about Elliot Bay’s blue expanse. Hotel guests and the women of Seattle College were scattered throughout the room, dressed in their Sunday best, creating a scene of quiet elegance. Helen was seated at their usual table near the window, already enjoying a cup of hot coffee and a plate of eggs and toast.

  “Oh, good, you’re here! I thought I’d be eating breakfast by myself today. I think Peggy and Nora are still asleep,” Helen said as Ann joined her.

  “Hmm, that coffee smells good.” Ann poured herself a cup. “Did you have fun last night at the dance?”

  “Yes! Did you leave early? You were already asleep when I got back to the room.”

  “I guess we did. We drove with Peggy and Joe—and they were ready to go. Joe told Peggy he was leaving after graduation to join the navy,” Ann said.

  “Aw, that’s rough.” Helen sighed. “So, you’re leaving us and joining the Presbyterians today, huh?”

  “Just a visit. For now. I don’t know what Paul and I are going to decide on.”

  “Actually, I think it’s great. I’m just teasing you. It shows that Paul’s willing to keep an open mind toward what’s important to you. He’s a good guy.”

  ***

  To Ann, there was a comforting sense of the familiar at First Presbyterian that was reassuring, even though it was the first time she had ever entered its doors. The church Ann had attended all her life in Wenatchee certainly looked very different from the vast sanctuary that she and Paul were now seated in. But once the very first song began, Ann felt like she was at home again, back in the little white-steepled church on Chelan Street. Her heart was filled with gratitude as she sang along.

  She tried to listen to the sermon, but instead, Ann’s thoughts focused on her mother. Try as she might, she couldn’t remember her. She had been too young when her mom had died. All she had were a handful of photographs and the stories she’d heard from her father or Aunt Rose. Ann often filled in the missing pieces with her imagination. In front of her was the altar where her parents had stood when they said their marriage vows. It was a beautiful church, and her mother must have been a lovely bride. Ann tried to picture her mom walking up the aisle toward her father on their wedding day.

  Ann knew, from pictures, that she resembled her mother—so much, in fact, that occasionally, Aunt Rose would call her niece by her sister’s name—Lily. She’d noticed an older woman staring at her intently. Had the woman known her mother?

  Ann’s grandparents, Douglas and Agatha Fairbanks, had brought their two daughters, Lily and Rose, to this church each week when they were young girls. The Fairbanks family was highly respected in this city, as they were one of the first families in Seattle. They possessed a small fortune from their various real estate holdings, and they had been quite influential. They expected their beautiful daughters to become society women.

  When the Great War broke out, Ann’s mother was only eighteen. She began volunteering at the local Red Cross office and trained to become a nurse. Many new people came into the city at that time to work in the shipyards. One of them was Ann’s father, Calvin, an orphan from Kansas, who had been living on his own since turning sixteen. From that time on, he’d taken work wherever he could find it, and there was plenty to go around in Seattle once the war started.

  Then the Spanish Influenza hit Seattle in 1918—after a trainload of infected navy recruits arrived. The entire city shut down in an attempt to stop it from spreading, but over a thousand people died before it was over. Her father became very ill and ended up in the hospital. That was how her parents met. Lily was a nurse at that hospital. Calvin recovered after a lengthy battle, and her parents fell in love.

  Calvin was from a different social class than Lily, and he didn’t meet the Fairbanks’ approval. After their marriage, Calvin and Lily decided to start a new life in Wenatchee, away from the disapproving interference of her parents. With his savings, Calvin bought a small house on a few acres, and he planted an apple orchard. By all accounts, the couple was happy. A year later, Ann was born. When Ann was only six months old, her mother, the nurse who had managed to stay healthy throughout the entire Spanish Influenza epidemic, contracted the flu and died. Calvin was devastated, but he was determined to give his daughter a loving home, even if he had to do it on his own.

  Douglas and Agatha Fairbanks, who had never treated Calvin well, tried desperately to convince him to move to Seattle after that. They wanted their granddaughter near them, but Calvin refused. He’d determined to raise his daughter in Wenatchee. Her mother’s sister, Rose, was the only link between Ann and her grandparents, and that was a tenuous one, at best, as Rose had a complicated relationship with her parents. She’d chosen the less traditional path of an academic career over marriage, and they didn’t approve.

  Ann had met her grandparents only once when she was very young, and they’d both died before she was ten years old. Rose had been unable to maintain the large family home by herself and had chosen to sell it. There were very few links left between Ann and the family she had never known. But this church was one of them. The Fairbanks had been some of the founding members.

  Ann had been surprised when she learned that her grandparents had left behind an inheritance for her. She’d never imagined that she would have the opportunity to go to college and live the life she had now. She wished that she could have known her grandparents better. Ann was glad that Paul had suggested visiting this church—but now intense feelings of loneliness, loss, and sadness were overwhelming her. She was feeling homesick.

  When the church service was over, the woman who had been watching Ann approached her. She was a plump elderly lady, with cool blue eyes and silver hair, possessing a surety about her that indicated she was rarely contradicted.

  “Good morning, dear.” She smiled warmly. “My name is Edith Carson. I couldn’t help but notice you because you remind me of someone I used to know. You’re a Fairbanks girl, aren’t you? I’m sure of it.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs.Carson. My name’s Ann Brooks. My mother was Lily Fairbanks. She grew up going to this church. Did you know her?”

  “Lily Fairbanks …” Mrs. Carson paused as if in deep thought. “Of course!” She laughed. “You’re the spitting image of your mother. God rest her soul. I was very sorry to hear about her passing. It was too early, and I’ve missed your grandparents. I knew them well. I taught Lily and Rose in Sunday school many years ago. It’s good to meet you, Ann.” She reached for Ann’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Then, turning to Paul, she introduced herself once more.

  Ann stayed and talked with Edith for several more minutes, promising to return soon. When she walked out of the building later with Paul, her feelings about what church she wanted to attend after they got married were even more confused.


  ***

  Nora and Peggy came over from their place across the hall on Sunday afternoon and joined Helen and Ann in room 302. Nora brought a box of chocolates to share, and they were listening to music on the radio. It was dark and rainy outside, but cozy and warm inside.

  “Your room is prettier than ours,” Peggy said as she surveyed it. “But at least we don’t have to live in the dorms.”

  “We’ve got a better view, but you’ve got more closet space,” Helen said. Closet space was significant to her.

  “Are you all going home for Easter break?” Ann turned down the radio.

  Easter break was five days away. All four women talked about their plans. Ann was only going home for a couple of days because Mrs. Delzer had asked for extra help while the kids were back from school. It was a busy time of year in the orchards, so Ann’s father would likely have been working the whole time anyhow. Peggy, Nora, and Helen would all be gone for the week. It was going to be quiet around the Sorrento.

  “Ann, how’s the wedding planning going?” Peggy grabbed another chocolate, then sprawled across Helen’s bed. “You need to let us help you!” Ann hadn’t done a thing toward wedding planning yet, other than deciding on the last weekend in June. Her aunt kept asking her the same thing. She repeated the line she told her aunt. “We don’t even know where Paul will be working, or where we’ll live. It all feels a little premature because of those things. But you’re right. I should get started.”

  “How about, Saturday after we get back, we’ll go shopping. We need to find you a dress!” Helen said.

  “Yes! I’d like that.” The surge of excitement over finding the perfect dress fizzled quickly. The bride’s family traditionally paid for the wedding, but Ann’s father certainly didn’t have the means to provide a wedding in the style that her friends and Paul’s family were likely expecting. What money she did have—her inheritance—was needed to cover school costs. Ann chewed on her lower lip. What was she going to do?