Sorrento Girl Read online

  “Yes, I think so. I’m glad we came,” Ann said.

  Ann and Peggy were quiet as they walked out of the building that day. They were tired but satisfied. It felt good to serve other people in this way. Ann thought about the book by St. Ignatius that she had been reading for her literature class and the idea that her fundamental vocation in life was to be who God made her to be—to love and serve as God desired.

  Maybe she didn’t have to know precisely what God’s plan was for her—yet. Perhaps, what God wanted was for her to say yes to the opportunities he placed right in front of her—to love others and to trust, in faith, that he had a good plan for her. She was glad she had said yes to that nudge felt last Sunday in the park when she had asked Mr. Ferguson about volunteering at the soup kitchen.

  ***

  Helen was in their room when Ann came back from the library on Sunday evening. She was lounging on her bed, reading.

  “Hi, how was your trip home?” Ann sat on the edge of her own bed.

  “It was good,” Helen said, putting her book down. “My sister is doing well, and little Annabelle, her daughter, is adorable.”

  “Is this her first child?”

  “Yes, she’s two years older than me. She was part of the first group of women here at Seattle College to be part of the College of Education a few years ago, but then she got married, and now she has Annabelle.”

  “Oh! Good for her. Hey, I was wondering, do you know of any women students here, right now, who are married?”

  “Not that I know of, but who says you can’t be the first? Is that what you want?”

  “Yes, I think so, but I’m not sure about what Paul thinks.” Ann took off her shoes.

  “You two need to talk!” Those were the same words Ann’s father had said to her.

  “You’re right. I think I’m going to go downstairs and see if the phone is available. I’ll be back in a little while.” Ann tried to call her Aunt Rose, but she wasn’t home.

  Who says you can’t be the first? Helen’s words stayed with Ann long after she had crawled under the covers that night and tried to go to sleep.

  There were married women at the University of Washington—but then again, the administration had just fired several of their women professors for nothing more than being married to other faculty members. Women who wanted to work—not out of necessity but just because they enjoyed it—were seen as suspect, their character questioned. It wasn’t fair.

  Ann remembered the words her aunt had used to describe Seattle College. It was a place for trailblazers.

  Thirteen

  Ann glanced at the calendar hanging near the desk in her room. Monday, February 13, 1939—which meant tomorrow was Valentine’s Day. How fun to share it with Paul this year—her very own Valentine. Maybe she could help the Delzer children make cards after school this afternoon, and she could make one for Paul while they were at it.

  It was time to get ready for school. Ann chose a navy wool skirt and her green sweater, then quickly dressed. She pulled her hair up into a chignon and applied a swipe of red lipstick. She’d barely have time to run upstairs and grab a piece of toast from the dining room before heading outside to walk to class. The days were speeding by, and she and Paul still hadn’t decided on a wedding date.

  Nora and Peggy were in the lobby when Ann came downstairs, holding her toast in one hand and her books in the other. The three women walked up Madison street toward the school together, catching up on the latest gossip and doing their best to avoid any deep puddles that might soak their feet.

  Peggy shifted her books from one arm to the other. “I’ve got a date for tomorrow night with Paul’s friend, Joe.”

  “He’s cute! Where are you going?” Nora asked.

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “I don’t know where Paul and I are going yet either,” Ann brushed some toast crumbs off her scarf. He hadn’t given her any clues, insisting he wanted to surprise her.

  ***

  “Have you thought any more about when you’d like to set a date for the wedding?” Paul asked.

  They were having dinner together at Murphy’s, a restaurant near the waterfront that featured the best seafood in Seattle. When it was light outside, the place also shared some great views. At this hour, it was already dark, but it didn’t matter, because inside, the atmosphere felt cozy with candlelight, soft music, and the smell of freshly baked sourdough bread.

  “What about June, after you graduate?” Ann asked. “I’ve been thinking, though.” She paused and took a sip of water. “I want to continue with school after we’re married. I have a small trust from my grandparents. It will cover my tuition.”

  “It’s not tuition I’m concerned about.” Paul’s serious gaze held hers. “What if I get a job somewhere away from Seattle?”

  Ann had thought about that too. She didn’t know what to say.

  Their waiter came by the table at that moment, saving Ann from the awkward moment, for the moment. “Are you ready to order?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll have the salmon, please,” Ann said.

  After the waiter had finished taking their orders, a silence fell over the couple as they sipped their drinks and ate their breadsticks. Finally, after a couple of minutes, Paul reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll do my best to find something right here in Seattle. I want you to be happy.”

  “I want you to be happy, too, Paul,” Ann smiled with gratitude. “What places are you applying to?”

  “The Seattle Daily Times, The Seattle Post Intelligencer, The Oregonian. I haven’t heard back from any of them yet,” Paul seemed unconcerned. “I think June sounds good for a wedding. Why don’t we begin with our plans and see what happens?”

  “Okay, then. Well, we’re making progress!” Ann laughed. She put on her best smile and took a drink of her wine. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if The Oregonian was the paper that hired Paul, but it was not worth worrying about now.

  “I have something else to ask you,” Paul said, picking up his glass of wine. “Would you like to come over for Sunday dinner again at my grandmother’s this weekend? My parents are going to be there, and they’d like to meet you.”

  ***

  “Aunt Rose, it’s Ann.”

  The phone had been sitting in the hallway, unused when Ann had been on her way upstairs for dinner, and since that was such a rare occurrence, she’d decided to seize the opportunity and use it. Ann didn’t care if she missed dinner. She needed to hear her aunt’s voice.

  “Ann, sweetheart, how are you?”

  “I’m good.” Ann twisted the phone cord around her finger. “I don’t know. I just wanted to talk to you and hear your voice.” She’d been thinking about her mother a lot lately, missing her, wishing she could have known her, and Aunt Rose was the closest person she had to a mother.

  “I’m glad you called. It’s always nice to hear from you. Did you and Paul set a wedding date yet?” Rose asked.

  “We’ve narrowed it down to June. I want to continue with school after we get married. What do you think about that?”

  “I think that’s a great idea. There’s no reason you can’t be married and be a student at the same time. What’s Paul going to do after he graduates?”

  “He’s not sure yet. One of the places he applied to work was The Oregonian, but he says he wants to make it work so I can stay in school.”

  “Have you met his parents yet?”

  “I’m going this Sunday.”

  Aunt Rose was quiet for a moment. “What do you want to do…stay in college? Work—particularly when you don’t need to—it’s something you know I support, but prepare yourself, dear. Even if Paul supports you in this decision, you’ll likely face some opposition. You’re going against the grain of expectations, and there will be people who will try to stop you. Stay true to what you know is right for you and stand firm. I know you’re strong, Ann, and I probably don’t even need to say this. I just want you
to know that I’m here for you, and I’m on your side.”

  ***

  The tea was getting cold. Ann had brought it to her room with her to sip on while she got ready to go to Paul’s grandmother’s house for Sunday dinner. But she forgot the tea as she nervously sat in front of her mirror and worked on her hair. She wanted to make a good impression on his parents.

  Paul would be by to pick her up in thirty minutes. Maybe she should have picked up more chocolates to bring along as a gift. It would be the first time she would see Elizabeth Lewis since the engagement, and the first time ever that she’d meet his parents.

  What would they be like? Paul had, after all, moved out of their home and into his grandmother’s house because of “difficulties.” And, he was one of the most easy-going people she had ever met. How onerous were his parents? She should have asked for more information.

  Nevertheless, they were still his parents, and they must have some redeeming qualities—though Paul had never mentioned any. Ann picked up a nail file and inspected her hands. They were fine. She took a sip of tea and nearly spat it out. Lukewarm. It was time to go downstairs. Gathering together her coat, a hat, and her handbag, Ann gazed around the room one last time. It was a comfortable room. She was looking forward to coming back to it at the end of the evening.

  Paul was waiting for her in the lobby when she came out of the elevator. “You are beautiful. Are you ready?” Despite his kind words, he sounded tense.

  “Thank you, I’m ready.” Paul drove through the Washington Park Arboretum on the way to his grandmother’s house. Dusk was settling in. “When it warms up a little more, I’d love to come here for a picnic,” Ann said.

  “I’d like that. We could plan something here, along with some friends, for your birthday.”

  He didn’t forget! Ann’s birthday was in two weeks. It would probably still be too cold and wet for a picnic in the park at that time, but Ann was impressed that Paul remembered. She’d only mentioned her birthday once—a long time ago.

  Smiling, Ann reached across the seat and kissed Paul on the cheek as he drove. “Do your parents know I’m not Catholic?” It had just occurred to her that maybe they didn’t. Would that be a problem?

  “Not yet …” Paul paused as if trying to find the right words. “Listen, my mother, she’s, um … opinionated. Don’t let her intimidate you. I listen to her, but I don’t always agree with her.”

  As they pulled up to the house, Ann peered at Paul and breathed in deeply, shoring herself up for what lay ahead. She wanted to remember everything about this moment—the warmth of Paul’s hand on her own, the clean smell of his cologne, and the sunshine on her face coming in through the window. I can do this.

  Paul walked to the side of the car and opened the door for Ann, leading her toward the front door. This time, since it was still light, Ann could see and appreciate the beautiful landscaping leading up to the mansion. A few early rhododendrons were already beginning to show off their pink blooms.

  The friendly face of Mrs. Lewis’s butler, Pepper, greeted them. “Good evening, Mr. Lewis, Miss Brooks. Please come in. May I take your coats?”

  Mrs. Lewis, Paul’s grandmother, came into the foyer, followed by a black cocker spaniel. “Paul, darling, so nice to see you,” she said, holding out her arms to accept a kiss on the cheek from her grandson. Then, turning toward Ann, she did the same. “Ann, it’s good to have you back. Welcome.”

  The epitome of politeness, the elder Mrs. Lewis was, as ever, difficult to read. She led Paul and Ann into the front sitting room where a middle-aged couple sat stiffly together on a settee. Paul’s parents, Frank and Gloria Lewis. Frank resembled Paul, except his face was deeply creased, and what little hair he had was white. Gloria, a large woman with a sour scowl, held onto a cane in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Neither of them got up when Paul and Ann came into the room.

  Paul walked toward them. “Hello, Father. Hello, Mother,” he said in the most formal tone Ann had ever heard him speak. “It’s good to see you. I want to introduce you to Ann Brooks, my fiancé. Ann, these are my parents, Frank and Gloria Lewis.”

  “How do you do? It’s lovely to meet you,” Ann said, stepping forward. Whereas the elder Mrs. Lewis was challenging to read, Ann had no problem, whatsoever, discerning the feelings of Gloria Lewis. Paul’s mother did not like her.

  “Hello, Ann, so good to make your acquaintance. Paul, how are you?” Frank Lewis finally stood and extended a handshake to his son. His words were polite, but his manner was abrupt.

  “Ann. Paul. Hello.” Paul’s mother remained seated, and she snuffed out her cigarette into the crystal ashtray on the coffee table in front of her.

  This was going to be a long evening.

  Fourteen

  Pepper rolled a cart carrying cake and coffee into the dining room. He winked at Ann when he noticed her watching. The dinner plates had been cleared away, ending what had been a meal eaten mostly in silence. Paul reached for Ann’s hand underneath the table and gave it a warm squeeze.

  “I thought a cake would be an appropriate way to celebrate Paul and Ann’s upcoming nuptials. Don’t you agree?” the elder Mrs. Lewis said, looking pointedly at Paul’s mother.

  “Of course,” sniffed Gloria.

  By the woman’s tone and glare, the awkward dinner had merely been the calm before the storm.

  “It would have been nice, however, if you could have told us about your plans before your engagement,” Gloria said, directing her words toward her son.

  “Yes, Mother.” Though respectful, Paul’s response lacked enthusiasm.

  Gloria Lewis then directed her attention toward Ann. “So, tell me, Ann, since we hardly know a thing about you, where are you from and who are your parents?”

  “I’m from a small town in central Washington, Wenatchee. It’s mostly known for growing apples.” Ann took a deep breath and clutched the napkin in her lap, hoping to calm her shaking hands. “My mother, Lily, is deceased. She died when I was very young. She originally came from Seattle, and her maiden name was Fairbanks. My father is Calvin Brooks. He was born in Kansas, but he came to Seattle as a teenager. He moved to Wenatchee after the war and has been there ever since.”

  “Hmm … are you Catholic? I would assume so since you’re at Seattle College.”

  “No, ma’am. I’m Presbyterian, but I’ve been attending Mass at St. James since I moved to Seattle.”

  “Of course, you’ll need to do something about that.”

  How was Ann supposed to respond to that comment?

  “Paul did I ever tell you where I met your grandfather?” Was the elder Mrs. Lewis trying to steer the conversation in a different direction? “It was in Chicago. He hired me as a florist at Marshall Field’s. Did you tell your parents how you and Ann first met?”

  Paul smiled, gratefully, and proceeded to tell his parents about the first fall informal at the Olympic Hotel where he and Ann had met.

  When they were finally able to say their goodbyes and make their exit, Ann was never more grateful to retreat, sinking into the soft upholstery of Paul’s Plymouth, relishing the sound of the engine starting up. She relaxed for the first time since she had left the Sorrento earlier that day.

  “Thank you. I know that wasn’t easy. My parents aren’t easy. Now you know why I lived with my grandmother in high school. You did wonderfully,” Paul said in a dry tone.

  “I did? I don’t think your mother liked me at all,” Ann said, hoping for a little encouragement, but he didn’t deny it.

  “I do my best to be respectful, but it’s my grandmother’s opinion, not theirs, that holds the most influence over my decisions. I wouldn’t worry about it. I love you, and I want to marry you.” The muscles in his jaw clenched as he said it.

  Ann’s heart broke for Paul. His parents were disconnected and distant. She was used to having a father who didn’t have a lot to say—but she had always known she was loved. Frank and Gloria were cold, but maybe that was just their way. T
hey were so different from Paul. It seemed hard to believe they came from the same family. Ann tried to give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they would warm up to her. She hoped.

  ***

  Sally’s mud pies were a work of art. The little girl had carefully prepared one for each of her siblings, one for Ann, and one for her mother. She was using the small tin pans she’d received for her birthday a few days ago, and she had set up a play kitchen in the corner of her backyard, using a tree stump for a counter and a garden hose as her sink. Sally had converted the doghouse to an oven. She was five now and getting more impatient with each day for the time when she would be able to start kindergarten and go to school with Margaret, Billy, and David.

  When Ann and the older three children strolled through the front gate together after their walk home from school, Sally was waiting for them with mud streaked across her dimpled face and clothes. “I made you some pies!” she said proudly.

  “You did? How nice of you!” Ann grinned and clapped her hands. “What kind of pie is mine?”

  “Apple.” Sally took Ann’s hand and pulled her toward the make-believe kitchen.

  “Let me take my things inside first, and let’s allow your brothers and sister to put their things away too.” Ann slipped her hand from the child’s. “They need to put on their play clothes. Then we’ll join you for some pie.”

  The three hours she spent with the Delzer children each day after school was often the favorite part of Ann’s day. Their home was full of noise, fun, laughter, and lots of love. As she entered the house with the children, Ann greeted Mrs. Delzer, who was in the kitchen making a real pie.

  “Hello, Ann. Hi, kids, how was your day?”

  “Hello, Mother—yum, pie! It was good!” Billy said as he ran around the corner and up the stairs to his room.

  “Do you have anything you need me to do inside first? Or would it be okay if I ducked outside for a few minutes with Sally? She wants me to join her for mud pie,” Ann said.