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-Will That Be Enough? -
Shortly after ten the next morning, Betty walked down the hall toward the rear of the Cashwell, to the employee lounge. She had twenty minutes for a coffee break, and she planned to spend the time away from the guests.
When she pushed through the swinging door, she saw Claudette already perched on the cushioned sofa. Clad in her uniform of a dark skirt, white blouse and white apron, she had one long, bronze leg tossed over the other. "Hey, Betty. Break time?"
She nodded, then flopped down on the sofa next to her friend. She sighed as her bottom sank into the soft seat. "Thank heavens. My rear end could use a respite from that hard piano bench."
"You really ought to put a cushion on that thing."
"I know, but I keep forgetting to ask Ruby. I'll ask her today before I leave."
"If you remember," Claudette chided.
Betty sighed, ran a hand over her hair. "What's going on with you? How's your half of the apartment fund looking?"
"Things are about the same as ever." She shrugged. "Nothing exciting going on. As for the apartment fund, if I keep putting away half my tips like I've been doing, I should have my half in about eight months, I guess."
That made her sigh all over again. "I've been saving as much as I can from my paycheck, after helping my parents with the bills. I think I can have my half saved in six months."
She smiled. "See? We're making progress. The real question is, how much are your parents going to fuss when they find out we're going to rent an apartment together in Alexandria?"
"I don't even want to think about it." She laced her fingers together, placing her hands in her lap. "I know it will involve some long speech about how it's not proper for unmarried women to live away from home, and how the city isn't a safe place for a girl my age."
"It's not as if we're going to New York." Claudette smirked. "My parents already know I want to move out, and I don't think they'll object to us being roommates. It's better than either of us living on our own."
"How are Joe and Fanny, anyway?"
Claudette chuckled. "You know my parents. They're still carrying on like teenagers. Yet another reason I need to move out."
"How long have they been married now?"
Her eyes rolled upward, as if she were accessing the data from the deeper regions of her memory. "Thirty years? Yeah, that sounds right."
"That's good. Mine have been together about the same." She tapped her chin with her index finger. "They don't do too much trysting in front of me, but I know they're still in love."
"You're lucky. I catch my mom and pop kissing and giggling together all the time." She rolled her eyes.
Betty smiled as an image of Warner's handsome face appeared in her mind. She didn't know why all this talk about their parent's marriage had conjured him up. "It's kind of cute when you think about it."
Claudette's eyes narrowed. "No it's not. What are you really thinking about?"
She could feel the heat rising into her face. "Come off of it, Claudette."
Claudette folded her arms over her chest, staring pointedly at her, and waited.
She blew out a breath. "Fine, if you're going to press me. Warner walked me home again yesterday, and..."
"Twice in one week? What's going on with the two of you?"
"You sound like Mama. Nothing's going on. But they hadn't caught the purse snatcher yet, so he offered to walk with me again. I don't see the harm in it."
Claudette moved her hips forward on the cushion. "Your mama had something to say about Warner walking you home?"
She nodded. "Yes. She went on and on about how if I keep spending time with him, one thing will lead to another and then—" she noticed her friend was perched on the edge of her seat. "Heavens, Claudette, don't fall off."
"Sorry." She scooted back, but continued staring intently.
"Anyway, she said I shouldn't get involved with him because the boys coming back from the war ain't wrapped tight and I'm just setting myself up for problems." She threw up her hands. "I don't know why she felt the need to say all that."
"Who knows? Both our mothers are straight-shooters and neither of them is afraid to tell you how she feels...no matter how little sense it makes." She tugged at the hem of her apron. "The real question is, how did your mother pick up on the attraction between you two so quickly?"
Betty frowned. "Wait a minute now. What are you talking about?"
With a sidelong glance, Claudette uttered a brief laugh. "Betty. Honey, I'm not blind, and neither is anybody else working here. We all know you and Warner like each other."
Betty swallowed, hoping to break up the lump of nervousness sitting in her throat. It didn't work. "I...um...is it really that easy to tell?"
"Yes!" Claudette gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Some things just can't be hidden, no matter how hard we try. But with you two, it's getting so I'm worried we aren't going to be moving in together."
"Oh, Claudette. I'm not going to abandon our plans for the sake of a man, least of all one I hardly know."
"You say that now."
Did her friend really believe she'd toss her aside that way? And if the attraction between Warner and I is really that obvious, could there be some truth to what Mama said? "We already agreed that the only way we'd break our deal is if one of us gets married, and I don't have any plans of doing that."
"What have you got against marriage? You just told me you think it's cute that my parents are still smooching after thirty years."
"I know what I said, and it's true." She laced and unlaced her fingers as she spoke. "Still, the idea of marriage just seems so...confining. I mean, when my parents married, my mother gave up her dreams of dancing on Broadway. And for what? To keep house, do the wash, and take care of my father's every need."
Claudette shrugged. "It is what it is. My mother wanted to travel the world, too. She planned on photographing rare animals and writing a book about them before she met my father."
"See what I mean? Why is it always the woman who must give up her ambitions? How many men do you know who've sacrificed their aspirations for a woman?"
She looked thoughtful for a moment. "None."
"Precisely." She shook her head slowly. "I just can't see myself doing that. Setting aside everything I've worked for, just to spend the rest of my days bent over a hot stove or an ironing board." The very thought of such a life made her cringe. She loved her mother dearly, and appreciated everything she did for the family. Still, deep inside, she knew marriage would mean giving up music.
"So you're not willing to leave your job here, if you had a good man who wanted you home?"
"No." She didn't hesitate. "My job here isn't glamorous, and it's certainly not going to make me rich. But I love music, and I love sharing it with others. Any man who truly loves me wouldn't deny me that joy."
Claudette stood, stretched. "Seems like you're not settling for anything less than a truly progressive fellow. At any rate, it's up to you to decide what you want, Betty." She walked toward the front, then stopped in the doorway. "I know you love music. But your parents aren't going to be around forever. Do you really want music to be the only love in your life?"
Leaving the question hanging in the air, Claudette disappeared into the corridor, letting the door swing shut behind her.
***
-The Folly of Felicity-
FRIDAY MORNING FOUND Warner lying on the concrete floor of his workshop. Above him, a black 1942 Cadillac Sixty Special sat on the lift. With a rolled-up towel beneath his head, he raised his arms, using his wrench to reassemble the undercarriage he'd spent most of the previous day dismantling.
To his immediate right stood Darnell, his part-time assistant. He had the driver's side door propped open as he worked to replace the panel. At twenty, he was still a little wet behind the ears in terms of maturity. Warner had been willing to set that aside when he'd hired him. It turned out to be pretty good fit; Darnell's intelligence and enthusiasm for automobiles made him a quick study.
"How's it going down there, boss man?"
Warner swiveled his head to the left and saw Darnell stooped down, peering underneath the car. He shook his head. "It's going fine, Darnell. Be finished in a few minutes."
"Good to hear." Darnell stood, and began tinkering on the door panel again. "Listen. Sam Connor next door said you had a little...episode at the Cashwell the other day. Says somebody told him you tackled the girl who plays the piano there. What gives?"
Warner rolled his eyes. "You sound like one of the hens sitting in Gloria's Beauty Shop."
"It's not gossip, Warner. I'm just concerned. Making sure you're all right, that's all."
He wasn't totally convinced of that. But he did consider Darnell a friend. Other than calls to his parents in North Carolina and his very recent chats with Betty, he didn't talk to folks about his life and his concerns. For that to happen, they'd have to actually acknowledge him as a cognizant adult. "I heard a loud noise. My training kicked in, and in taking evasive measures, I also took protective measures with Miss Daniels. Nothing more to it than that."
"I'm not buying that line. There were other people in there, I know it. You didn't leap to anyone else's aid. Why Miss Daniels?"
He frowned. "She was the closest to me. I'd just approached the piano so we were occupying the same physical space."
There was a long silence. Warner guess Darnell was thinking over what he'd said. Wanting to get the undercarriage back in place before lunch rolled around, Warner kept working.
When Darnell finally spoke again, the next thing out of his mouth came as a surprise. "I saw Felicity."
All the air left Warner's lungs in a whoosh. Why the hell would Darnell even mention her name? Lord knows it's she's the last thing I want to talk about.
"I went into Alexandria last weekend to see my sister and nieces," he continued. "And there she was. Coming out of store downtown, draped over the arm of some brother with a conk. That stuff was so slick and so shiny, if he laid down you could ice skate on it."
The joke made him snicker, but the momentary humor of it did little to lessen the pain he felt when he thought of his duplicitous ex. "I don't want to talk about her."
"I know, I know. I'm just saying. Getting mixed up with a woman hasn't worked out well for you in the past."
Tightening the last fitting, Warner slid out from beneath the car and stood. While he walked to the table to put down his tools and towel the grease off his hands, his traitorous mind dredged up the memories of Felicity. Her kiss that had fired his blood, her smile that had hidden her true nature. She’d been no more loyal to him than Brutus had been to Julius Caesar. With his back still turned to Darnell, he spoke. "You know, she promised me she'd wait for me. Stood down there at the bus station, seeing me off to training, with the tears standing in her eyes, and promised she'd wait for me. By the time I got back from Europe, she'd packed up and left." He shook his head. "Thought a raggedy little note about how she'd had "chemistry and sparks" with somebody else would get her off the hook." He squeezed the towel between his hands so tight his knuckles hurt, then tossed it aside.
"I'm sorry, boss man. I shouldn't have brought her up." Darnell sounded reticent.
He turned, making eye contact with the younger man. "I'm glad you realize that. So don't mention her name ever again."
He shook his head. "I won't."
"And for heaven's sake, don't compare her to a woman like Betty. She's nothing like that."
Darnell's expression changed. "How do you know that?"
"I've known Betty for years. Went to high school with her." He left out that she'd been a year ahead of him. "Besides, folks in this town have either avoided me or pitied me since I got back from the front. But she's not like that. She treats me like a person. Talks to me as if she knows I'm not some invalid or crazy person."
He nodded slowly. "I see."
"You should see her. She's a beauty. All this dark hair; big, sparkling eyes. Plays the piano so sweet you'd think an angel was working those keys." He could see her in his mind's eye. A delicate blossom of femininity, gifted and graceful.
"Sounds to me like she's already gotten under your skin."
Warner didn't deny Darnell's assessment. "At any rate, I know what I'm doing. Walking her home was simply the gentlemanly thing to do, considering the circumstances."
Darnell's brow furrowed. "You say you walked her home?"
"Twice."
"Hmm. Sam didn't tell me that."
He laughed. "Sam don't know everything." He gave a brief recounting of Agnes' ordeal with the brazen purse snatcher. "Like I said, I was being a gentleman."
"So, if some boogeyman had jumped out of the bushes, you were going to protect the fair Ms. Daniels?"
He placed his hand over his heart. "With my very life."
Darnell chuckled. "Okay then, boss man. I see you've got it under control."
"Of course I do."
"Did they ever catch the guy?"
He nodded. "Caught him yesterday evening, I think. Saw it in the paper."
"So what's gonna be your excuse to escort her now?"
Walking over to Darnell, Warner gave him a jab in the shoulder. "Hush, Darnell. I don't need an excuse. I'll just keep walking her as long as she lets me."
"Until she gets tired of you, you mean."
That earned him another jab.
"Ow!" Darnell howled in mock pain, but his smile gave away his amusement. "Stop abusing me. You know I'm like the younger brother you never had."
"Ain't never wanted a little brother," he teased as he walked away.
He went into the house to grab two bottles of cold soda, and when he returned, passed one to Darnell. "How much longer you gonna be on that door panel?"
Catching his can, he rolled it over his forehead. "Not much longer if you come and help me."
Taking a swig of his soda, he set the bottle down on the table and strode over to aid Darnell with the door panel.
The panel had been partially crushed during an accident. According to the driver, he'd left the door open for a moment, only to have another passing cyclist crash into the door. It was sheer luck that the cyclist hadn't been badly hurt and that he hadn't been traveling fast enough to knock the whole door off its hinges. Warner had noticed an uptick in cars being damaged since he'd been home. Bicycles, which used to be the domain of children, were now being used by some adults as their primary mode of transportation.
Working in tandem, they pried off the old panel, which Darnell hauled away to the scrap heap. With the interior workings exposed, they checked over the various fittings and hardware, removing the built up dust and particulates left over from the collapse of the old panel. They also replaced a few damaged pegs. With that done, they carefully attached the new panel, which Warner had picked up himself from the Cadillac dealership in Alexandria.
Admiring the completed job, Darnell let out a whistle. "Look at that. Good as new." He tipped an imaginary hat in Warner's direction. "What would you do without me, boss man?"
Warner simply shook his head.
He might be a pain in the rear end, but I'd be lost without him.
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