Sorrento Girl Page 7

  The two of them sat by the fireplace, talking about what they’d been doing the past week when they’d been apart.

  “Would you like to go for a drive?” he asked.

  Yes, she would.

  A short while later, they were at Smith Tower. The beautiful white tower dominated the Seattle skyline and was famous for being the tallest building on the west coast. “We’re going up to the Observatory if that’s all right with you,” Paul said, leading Ann across the marble floor toward the elevator.

  Ann took in a sharp breath when the elevator door opened on the thirty-fifth level. They could see the city below them through the floor to ceiling windows. She was in awe at the beauty of the twinkling lights that glittered far below them. They stood together in silence, holding hands. “It’s beautiful! Thank you for bringing me here.”

  “Ann, I’ve missed you this past week. I want to spend next Christmas together—and every Christmas after that. Will you marry me?” Paul asked, taking a velvet box from his front pocket. He opened the box and revealed a sparkling diamond ring.

  She didn’t hesitate. “Yes!” Ann kissed him. Everything about the moment was perfect. Would their lives always be this wonderful?

  Eleven

  Ann lay awake in bed for most of the night, thinking. Helen was already asleep when she’d returned from Smith Tower, and it was too late to call Aunt Rose or her father. She’d have to keep the big news to herself a while longer.

  She replayed the events of the evening as she stared up at the ceiling. Romantic, sweet Paul had surprised her, for sure. Impetuous, that’s what she was. They needed to talk. Paul would be graduating in a few months. What were his expectations? And why hadn’t they talked about these things first, before she said yes? She was upset with herself for not being more honest.

  The alarm woke her up while it was still dark outside—6:00 a.m. Had she slept at all? It felt like the middle of the night. The room was cold, and Ann wanted to stay under her warm quilt. A bedside lamp switched on. Helen was awake.

  “Good morning,” her groggy roommate said as she headed toward the bathroom.

  “Morning.” Ann stared at the sparkling diamond engagement ring. Now wasn’t the right time to tell her friend. She quickly slipped it off and put it in her nightstand drawer before getting up and putting on her bathrobe.

  ***

  Nora, Peggy, Helen, and Ann were together again, at last. They were having breakfast together in the dining room on the first day of the new semester—pancakes, eggs, and coffee. They hadn’t seen each other over the winter holidays, and there was a lot of catching up to do.

  “Too bad, we don’t have more time to talk.” Nora poured a generous amount of syrup on her pancakes. “I want to stay here all morning and catch up with my sisters.”

  Peggy finished her orange juice. “I’ve missed you all! How about we meet for ice cream this evening at Jack Frost?”

  “Sounds good. I’ve got to get to class.” Ann dropped her napkin on her empty plate and stood. “I’ll see you all then. Seven o’clock?”

  She left her friends and stopped by her room to grab her books and coat, then walked toward the campus. It was a return to a familiar routine, and it felt comforting. Ann needed to call her father and Aunt Rose too, but the morning was rushed. She’d find time to call them later.

  This semester, her first morning session was a literature class held in Garrand Hall, a ten-minute walk from the Sorrento. Ann’s feet were numb with cold by the time she arrived.

  Father McGoldrick introduced himself to the students as their teacher. Ann already knew who he was, and she was happy to be in his class. The teacher was well known, not just at school, but in the city. He was the person who had pushed for allowing coed classes at Seattle College. She owed a debt of gratitude to this man for the simple fact that she was at this school, because of his willingness to speak out for what was right. The teacher got straight to his lecture as soon as the big hand on the clock said eight.

  “‘Act as if everything depended on you. Trust as if everything depended on God.’ Who said that?” Father McGoldrick raised his eyebrows and scanned the classroom.

  A man in the back row raised his hand.“Saint Ignatius of Loyola.”

  “Yes, Saint Ignatius, founder of the Society of Jesuits. For this class, we’re going to read a wide variety of literature I think you need to be acquainted with, and we’re going to start with the writings of Saint Ignatius, specifically, his Spiritual Exercises. You’ll need to purchase the book.”

  Ann breathed in deeply and exhaled. She hadn’t heard that quote from St. Ignatius before. It was something she’d be thinking about for a long while.

  ***

  Paul glanced down at Ann’s hand. “You’re not wearing your ring.”

  “No, I want to tell a few important people first, and I haven’t had a chance to yet.”

  “Oh, okay. Your story about the protests at UW over the recent firings goes to print today. I thought it was good.”

  “Thank you! Hey, so I was thinking, I’ve never heard you tell me what your plans are after graduation,” Ann said.

  “I’ll find a job wherever I can. Something to do with journalism. It’s not easy right now. Newspapers are laying people off in many cases—not hiring.”

  “No, it isn’t. I was just curious.” She didn’t want to push, and the newspaper office was hardly the place for a talk like this, so Ann left it at that.

  Paul and Ann were sharing lunch—the usual—ham sandwiches brought over in a brown paper bag from the campus dining hall, and hot coffee, brewed right there in the newspaper office. The office always smelled of coffee and ink.

  “Some people might think you live in this office,” Ann teased.

  Paul kept a change of clothes hanging near his desk—a necessity, he said, for when he had tight deadlines and not enough time to run back to his dorm. The couch often doubled as a place to nap after all-night writing and editing sessions. “Yeah. I might need to work late again tonight.”

  “Okay. I’m meeting up with Peggy, Nora, and Helen at Jack Frost after dinner tonight. That’s when I plan on telling them about us.” She knew they’d be happy for her, but telling them made it seem so real.

  Paul smiled, took Ann’s hand, and kissed it. “Have I ever told you I love you?”

  “Not today, you haven’t,” she teased.

  ***

  “Paul asked me to marry him.” Ann was using the phone in the hallway near the front desk at the Sorrento during dinner. She would have to skip dinner and be content with ice cream alone. It was the only way she could fit in a moment to call her dad.

  Her father cleared his throat. “He talked to me when he was here before Christmas. You found a good man. I could see that you were happy together.” He sounded excited. “I gave him my blessing. When are you two getting married?”

  “We haven’t set a date yet.” Ann was surprised at her father’s enthusiasm.

  “Will you still finish school?” That was the question she had circled, all the last sleepless night.

  “Of course,” Ann said.

  “And he knows this?

  “Well, we haven’t talked about it yet.” Ann twisted the phone cord around her finger.

  “You two need to talk.”

  “I know.” Ann was finishing up the conversation with her father when Peggy, Nora, and Helen stepped out of the elevator.

  Helen waited for Ann to put the receiver on the hook. “Ann! We missed you at dinner! Are you ready to go to Jack Frost with us?”

  “Yes, let’s go!” Ann needed some sugar. The women joined arms and left the Sorrento together, off to their favorite ice cream shop, just up the street. The brightly lit shop was full of college students, but Nora managed to snag the last table for her friends.

  “I’ve got some news,” Ann said when they were all seated. She paused and looked down. She felt like the least likely candidate of the bunch to be sharing this particular piece of news, but he
re she was. Her friends waited expectantly for her to continue.

  “Paul and I are engaged!” Ann pulled the ring out of her pocket and placed it on her finger at that moment.

  Peggy grabbed her hand and gasped. “Ann! Wow! This is exciting! Tell us all about how he asked you!”

  Ann loved telling the story of how Paul surprised her by taking her to the top of Smith Tower. Even as she spoke, it felt like it had happened to someone else, like something out of a movie.

  Helen clutched her hands in front of her dramatically. “He’s such a romantic!”

  “You’re a lucky girl,” Nora said, then offered Ann a warm smile.

  “So, when is the big day?” Peggy scootched closer.

  “We haven’t talked about that yet.” Ann was delighted that her friends were so excited for her, but she was growing more uncomfortable as the questions continued, so she tried to change the subject. “Enough about me! Who else wants to tell us about their Christmas vacation?”

  Helen sat up straight and grinned. “I can’t beat your news, but I did something rather exciting. I traveled to San Francisco with my parents—and we took an airplane!”.

  “What was it like?” Peggy asked.

  “Loud—but thrilling, and we had a good time in San Francisco.”

  Ann’s thoughts immediately went to her childhood hero, Amelia Earhart, and the plane crash. She tried not to shudder at the thought of something happening to Helen. Lots of people flew on commercial planes today. When did she become such a worrier?

  Twelve

  Father McGoldrick’s assignment of St. Ignatius’s Spiritual Exercises had intrigued Ann. She had been doing more than reading the text as a piece of literature. Though the exercises had often been used as part of a thirty-day silent retreat for Jesuits, Ann had been using them for her current life at school by praying and meditating on the words and the Scripture readings daily— ever since she had purchased the book. She didn’t understand a lot of it, but she did her best. It felt like clean water drenching her parched soul. She was thirsty for more.

  Today, Ann had woken even earlier than usual so she could complete the daily exercises before school. She sat with her Bible, and the book spread out on her lap, coffee in hand, downstairs in the Fireside Room, on her favorite brown leather sofa, in front of the warm fireplace. Helen was still asleep when Ann had crept out of bed and dressed in the dark. She could hear distant activity as staff members at the hotel worked quietly in preparation for the day ahead, but for now, she remained alone.

  Ann had never read the Scriptures on her own before. She wasn’t a stranger to them, having heard them read aloud each Sunday in church, but her experience with them had always been as part of a communal ritual. Now, in this quiet time, she experienced them differently, as if God were speaking directly to her.

  She had a lot of questions right now, and Ann thought, maybe, she could find some answers if she applied herself to the exercises outlined in this ancient text. The words from Psalm 27:1 seemed to pop off the page. “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?”

  Paul would be traveling with the school’s basketball team to Oregon the following weekend, mostly because he loved Chieftain basketball. Also, so he could write an article for The Spectator. He and Ann had both been busy during the month since their engagement, and they still hadn’t gotten around to having any serious talks about a wedding date or any other essential details.

  “Do you have any fun plans for the weekend while I’m gone?” Paul stopped to pet an orange cat who’d crossed in front of him on the sidewalk.

  “Not yet. Helen is going to Spokane to meet her sister’s new baby, so she won’t be around either.”

  It was an unusually warm day for February in Seattle, a Sunday afternoon, and Ann and Paul were taking advantage of the good weather by taking a walk around the neighborhood. They sat down on one of the benches in a local park. Children played nearby on a merry-go-round, and an older gentleman sat under a tree, feeding the ducks from a paper sack full of breadcrumbs. When Ann studied closer, she saw that it was Mr. Ferguson.

  She walked over to greet him.“Mr. Ferguson, hello!”

  He looked up, smiling. “Miss Brooks! How are you? And Paul? Well, what do you know! What are you two kids up to?”

  Paul offered a handshake, and Mr. Ferguson accepted. “I’m graduating in June, and Miss Brooks and I are engaged. I heard you’re still teaching math at Seattle Prep!”

  “Yes, sir, they’re still keeping me around. Congratulations on the engagement. It couldn’t have happened to two nicer kids. I’m glad to hear it.” Mr. Ferguson focused on Ann and smiled. “By the way, that was a kind thing you did a few weeks ago with the apples. The folks there sure appreciated them.”

  “It was nothing—though I have wanted to talk to you. I’m glad we ran into you. Do you volunteer at the soup kitchen regularly?”

  “Yes, it’s my honor to do so.”

  “I was thinking, or wondering—if maybe there was any need for more volunteers?”

  “Always! Why don’t you join us this Saturday morning at eleven? I’ll show you the ropes.”

  Ann smiled and nodded. “I’d like that. Thank you, I’ll be there.” She was excited.

  “You’re welcome to join us, as well, Paul.” Mr. Ferguson threw some more breadcrumbs toward the ducks, who were now squawking at him.

  “Thank you. I’d like that very much. I’ll be out of town this weekend, but maybe the next?”

  “Very well. You’re welcome anytime.”

  Paul and Ann sat with Mr. Ferguson a while longer, enjoying their time with the old teacher, before heading back toward the Sorrento. The snow had all melted, and a few of the trees showed the earliest signs of spring, with the tiniest of green buds adorning their branches. Ann looped her arm through Paul’s and smiled.

  He kissed the top of her head. “So, when should we get married? We haven’t talked about that yet.”

  He’d finally brought it up. Ann felt relieved. She didn’t know why she had been so afraid to broach the subject. Paul loved her—and the feeling was mutual. She could be frank about her concerns. “I still have three years left of school after this semester. Do you want to wait for me to finish first?”

  “Three years, huh. That’s a long time. You know, I’ll provide everything you need once we’re married. We won’t have to live off my salary alone. There’s a trust fund …” Paul frowned.

  Ann felt like she had inadvertently insulted Paul. “I don’t want to wait three years, either—but I do want to finish school. It’s important to me. I want to teach, even if we don’t need the money.”

  Paul seemed surprised. “Oh, okay. I understand.” Did he understand? She wasn’t sure. “We can talk more about it later,” Paul said. They were back at the Sorrento.

  “Do you want to have dinner here with me tonight?” Ann asked, placing her hand on his arm, hoping her touch would assure him that despite her desire to finish school, she wanted to be with him.

  Did he still believe that?

  ***

  On Saturday morning, Ann and Peggy took a streetcar to the soup kitchen on Fourth Avenue. Ann had invited Peggy along at the last minute, and she was glad to have her friend with her. The kitchen was run in an old storefront. A large sign above the front entrance read, Soup, Coffee, and Donuts for the Unemployed.

  Though it wouldn’t open for lunch service for another half hour a line of people already waited at the front door. Peggy and Ann went around to the side door in the alley and knocked as Mr. Ferguson had instructed. A middle-aged woman wearing an apron and a friendly smile answered.

  “Hello, I’m Ann Brooks, and this is my friend, Peggy Albright. I’m a friend of Mr. Ferguson, and we’re here to help.”

  “Oh! Hello. Come on in, ladies,” she said, waving them inside. “Nice to meet you both. My name’s Mrs. Johnson. Thank you for coming. It’s always nice to have a few
extra pairs of hands. Put on some aprons and follow me.”

  Mrs. Johnson took two aprons from some hooks on the wall in the hallway and invited Ann and Peggy to leave their coats there. Then she led them into a large, brightly lit room with long tables. A makeshift kitchen was at the back of the room, with two sinks for washing dishes, a long table for chopping vegetables, and a large wood stove. Several crates of carrots, cabbage, and potatoes were stacked against the wall. Along one wall, shelves were filled with serving dishes.

  “This place is run by the parish. Mr. Ferguson is here every week—a good man. He’ll be back in just a moment. I believe he’s outside, meeting the bread delivery truck. What you ladies can do now is make some coffee. First, you’ll need to fill these percolators with water from the sink. Think you can do that?”

  Peggy nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Between the two of them, Peggy and Ann got the coffee going, and they kept at it for the next two hours. Because of the limited electrical outlets, they could only make two pots at a time. Once the doors opened and people started coming through the line, the coffee carafes were emptied and refilled countless times.

  Most of the people coming through the line were men, though a few had their families with them. Some smiled at the women, thanking them, and others looked down quietly, seemingly not wanting to make eye contact.

  There wasn’t time for people to linger or visit over their soup after they ate. The diners ate quickly, depositing their used dishes in large tubs when they left to make room for more people, who were still coming through the line.

  Volunteers ladled soup into bowls, poured coffee, and washed dishes, nonstop. The time passed quickly. When finally the doors were closed, Ann and Peggy guessed that they had served several hundred people that day. Mr. Ferguson spotted the two women across the room and came over to say hello.

  “Mr. Ferguson, hello! This is my friend, Peggy,” Ann said.

  “Nice to meet you, Peggy. Thank you both for coming and helping today. Will we see you again next week?”