When I returned to the camp a few days later, it was quiet. Plants had been delivered and set up around the property, giving the camp a tropical feel. An inviting aroma of baking came from the kitchen. I didn’t see Archie, who must have been out with one of the guides. We’d had so many guests all summer that I’d almost forgotten what it was like to hear the birds, the gentle rustle of the breeze in the trees and the stillness. In less than a week the wedding guests would start to arrive, staying at the camp or at Paul Smith’s Hotel. We’d get caught up in the hosting and the entertaining, and we’d have few moments to ourselves, and then the wedding would be upon us, and I’d be walking down the aisle. Archie would be standing under the trellis, the lake in the background, and he’d be smiling and … I shut my eyes. Stop it, just stop thinking, I told myself. I needed a distraction. Everything was too quiet, too still.
I changed out of my city clothes and put on my trousers and my galoshes and walked down to the farm. Eugene was there, and when he saw me approach his face broke into a huge smile.
“Is there news?” I asked.
“There is,” he said. “She had a filly. Come and see.”
I slowly approached the stable and peeked my head into the stall. Lady stood proudly next to her foal, who was skinny, all legs, her coat fluffy like a rabbit’s. She had almost exactly the same markings as Lady—golden brown, three white feet and a white spot on her nose.
“Oh, Eugene, she’s magnificent.” I wanted to reach out and touch her.
Lady stepped forward, pushing the foal slightly behind her as if to protect her from me.
“It’s okay, Lady, I’m just looking,” I said.
“She’s been tending to her, watching over her while she sleeps, the little one hasn’t left her dam’s side.”
“When was she born?”
“Yesterday. Lady barely needed any help, she knew exactly what to do. The filly came out hoofs first, her nose resting on her legs, back up, just as she should. They bonded right away. Little one nursed quickly, and she stood herself up within thirty minutes of being born.”
“A strong one,” I said quietly. “I knew she would be.”
“Once she stood, she was a bit too excited, wobbling around her dam for a good hour, getting used to her legs. She didn’t want to get any rest, but Lady got her settled. You should be able to go in there soon and see them, but we’re letting them alone for now.”
Eugene seemed so proud of them both.
“Does she have a name?” I asked.
“We’ve been waiting for you, Miss Olive. We asked Mr. Carmichael, but he insisted that you should be the one to name her. He said you’d like that.”
I felt my eyes go glassy. “That’s sweet,” I said. “But I wouldn’t know what to name her. I don’t have any experience with that kind of thing, I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“You don’t have to have experience to name a horse.” He laughed. “You just have to look at her and say whatever first comes to your mind when you see her.”
I stared at her for a moment. “Grace,” I said. “That’s what I think of when I see her.”
“Well, then, I think we have a name.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Eugene, for taking such good care of them. You’ve done a fine job.”
Back at the cabin, I downed a shot of whiskey, then lay back on the bed.
I tried to picture what would happen if I followed Ruthie’s advice and was honest with Archie, what would happen to me if he heard the news and left me. I’d never been afraid of the future before. Unlike some of the girls who’d been terrified of getting too old or finding themselves on the street the minute they turned the dreaded three-oh, I had always believed, maybe naïvely, that everything would work out and I’d be just fine. I hadn’t thrown myself at those stage-door johnnies; sure, I’d let them take me out, but I hadn’t been desperate to get married, I hadn’t been scared that I’d lose my beauty, my figure, my youthful ways. I’d somehow believed that I’d make it, but now I wasn’t quite so sure.
I thought back to those first days in the Follies dressing rooms and hearing some of the girls talk about getting older, as if they were all going to catch scarlet fever and drop dead on their thirtieth birthdays. It had seemed so far away. One of the principals had turned and caught me eavesdropping. “Just you wait and see,” she’d said. “You may be one of the youngest chicks in the coop now, but it creeps up on you fast. You’ll be staring thirty in the eye before you know it.”
I’d thought she was wrong. It had seemed like a lifetime from where I was then. If I weren’t getting married and leaving the stage now, how much longer would Ziegfeld even keep me around? I wondered. When he had fresh, new, interesting-looking seventeen-, eighteen-, and nineteen-year-olds knocking down his door just as I had, would he still want me then?
When I pictured life without Archie, it was bleak and miserable. I’d be alone, heartbroken, regretful, and soon enough I’d be out of work. I’d be broke, an old maid. Childless. What would I be good for? A governess, perhaps—if a family would even take me, a former show girl. It would be a fitting punishment, to take care of someone else’s children. But I couldn’t do what I knew I should, I simply couldn’t tell him.
I heard the front door open, and Archie walked into the bedroom in his fishing gear. He looked so handsome, his cheeks slightly pink from the sun, his hair tousled.
“Olive!” he exclaimed, surprised and smiling. “I’m so happy you’re back, I missed you like mad.” He strode over to the bed and hugged me, long and hard, but then he stopped himself. “I should change, I smell like a fisherman. Give me two minutes.”
I walked to the living room and poured Archie a whiskey, refilled my glass while I was there, then walked out to the porch and sat on the wooden bench, feeling strangely still.
“Much better,” Archie said a few moments later, coming up to me and taking me in his arms. “God, I missed you.” He squeezed me, gave me a kiss and then took a deep inhale as if breathing me in. I handed him his drink and he sat down next to me. “So how was the grand finale?” he asked.
“Good.” I nodded. “It was good.”
“Good? That’s it? Was it not well attended?”
“No, it was fine, a full house.”
“Well, that’s better than good, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I said. “Better than good.”
“And you got the dress? I see you have something hanging in the bedroom. I’m sure it’s extravagant and very special, and I wouldn’t want anything less.” He smiled. He was so excited, it made me want to cry. “I won’t peek, don’t worry. But when did you get back? You should have had Agnes come and unpack your bags, they’re still sitting by the door.”
I nodded again. I swallowed hard. “The thing is, Archie, I loved it. I loved being on that stage again. I loved the applause, I need the applause.”
“Olive…” His smile dropped slightly. “We talked about this, remember?” He tried to laugh a little, but it came out just like breath, a puff of air.
“I just don’t think I can be happy without it.” I remained stoic, hard, and yet I couldn’t believe what I was hearing myself say. “I won’t be happy if I don’t perform, if I’m not a Ziegfeld girl, or if I’m not on the stage, singing, dancing, entertaining. And the thing is, I know you don’t want a wife of yours to do that.”
“Olive,” he said, but I kept on, not letting him speak, not letting him talk me out of it.
“It would ruin your reputation and it would ruin the good name you built for your family, but I need to do this. I have to do it.”
“What are you saying? Don’t be silly.” He smiled, but I didn’t smile back. “We can talk about this, Olive. Don’t say something you’ll regret. Just think about what you’re doing here, just think before you say another word. Please.”
He took my hand, but I pulled it away.
“I don’t think I would make a good wife. I don’t cook, I can barely keep track of my things, let alone run a household.”
“I don’t care about any of that stuff, you know that. We’ll make it work,” Archie said.
I clenched my jaw. “I’m sorry, Archie.” I felt light-headed. It was disorienting, as if I were hearing someone else say these words, not me, but I forced myself to go on, coldly. “I’ve made a terrible mistake. I can’t marry you. I’m so very sorry.”
Archie stared at me, stunned, as if I’d punched the air out of him. I didn’t think he could speak, and yet strangely I could—these cold, callous words coming out of me. He sat down on the wooden chair next to the bench, staring out at the lake.
I watched him to see what he’d do next, to see what I’d do next, and then he stood up again.
“This is ridiculous, Olive. You can’t do this to me,” he said. He was angrier now. “You can’t call this off just days before the wedding. It’s all planned. Agnes has been preparing for days, the guides have worked nonstop all summer to get this place exactly the way you wanted it. You!”
I stood there doing nothing. Not even reacting.
“Some guests are already on their way,” he said, and then the enormity of it all began to fall on him. “Our families, Olive! It will humiliate everyone involved. You can’t do this. I won’t allow it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He paced and then looked at me, softer now. “You’ve got cold feet, darling,” he said, as if this possibility had just occurred to him. “This happens to a lot of people, I’ve heard, days before the wedding.”
“It’s not cold feet. I know what it is.”
“Well, then, what the hell is it?” he said, louder this time. “Something’s happened, did something happen in Manhattan?”
“No,” I said. “Nothing happened in Manhattan, I just—it was a mistake. This was a mistake.”
He sat down again, then he dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t understand,” he said to himself. “I just don’t understand.”
I couldn’t watch. I walked back into the bedroom, picked up my bags and carried them out to the main lodge.
“I need the rest of my things picked up from my cabin, and I need to go to the Blue Mountain House immediately,” I said, my voice shaking, to whoever might hear. “Now!” I shouted.
People emerged from the hallway, other rooms, and began to scurry around. The carriage was brought up front, and my bags were packed in the back within moments. They must have wondered what on earth was going on, but from the look of me and the intensity in my voice, they seemed to know not to ask questions. My world began to spin, and I thought I might faint. In a matter of minutes, I had entirely changed the course of my life and I was in the midst of walking out on the only man I’d ever loved. I had no idea what I was going to do next.
Archie walked out of the cabin when I was seated in the back of the carriage. He looked devastated, in shock.
“You’re making a huge mistake, Olive,” he called out. “If you do this it’s over, there’s no turning back.” He walked up to the carriage window. “Don’t do this, Olive, you’re going to regret it.”
“I know,” I said in a whisper. Then I turned to face forward as the carriage began to pull away.