Harvey House was all abuzz. The word spread like wildfire. At first it was a rumor. Then as it traveled the grapevine from national headquarters to the managers’ offices to the supervisors, the chefs, the head waitresses, and eventually to the serving staff, it gained momentum and finally force of fact.
It wasn’t until Miss Cannon called Darcy to her office that the whispers she had overheard were confirmed.
Although usually the epitome of composure, the head waitress this day seemed tense. Bright spots of color burned in her cheeks, and her blue eyes sparkled with excitement. Once Darcy was seated opposite her desk, she said, “Harvey House is going to have an unusual honor. The Rough Riders are planning to hold their reunion here. I’m sure you’ve heard of them?”
Of course everyone had heard about the Rough Riders, the voluntary group of men who had distinguished themselves in the famous battle of San Juan Hill during America’s war with Spain. The returning soldiers had been welcomed as heroes, and many of them had become prominent in their local communities and in politics.
“There will be governors and mayors and state and county officials, along with their entourages, among those attending the reunion,” Miss Cannon said. Then her eyes opened wider, and she added, “There is even a rumor that President Teddy Roosevelt, who was their leader, might be the keynote speaker at the banquet.”
She paused for a minute. Then, seeming satisfied that Darcy was duly impressed by this information, she continued. “Whether or not the president attends, there will be an unprecedented number of important people coming. It is going to be a momentous occasion. Headquarters has ordered that the red carpet be rolled out.”
Darcy was still not sure what all this had to do with her or why Miss Cannon had made a point of telling her about it.
“Everything is being planned to make it a grand affair in every way. The chef is creating a special menu. Of course, there will be need for extra service people.”
Miss Cannon looked at Darcy with particular directness. “I know you are officially on leave of absence, but we want only our most experienced girls serving this banquet. There cannot be a misstep or an error of any sort. Service has to be as smooth as glass, everything perfect. There will be reporters and photographers here recording every detail of this occasion for newspapers all over the country. Harvey House’s reputation will be at stake. This reunion must go off without a single flaw. That’s why we are depending on our best waitresses to carry this off in fine style.”
At last Darcy knew why Miss Cannon had called her in. She was to be among the specially chosen waitresses for this important banquet.
There were to be rehearsals even, as in a Broadway production. Everything had to proceed like clockwork, each course served with exact timing. The service had to be so seamless that it would not be noticed. The menu was printed and passed around to be memorized by the serving staff. The chefs practiced making the special dishes over and over so the final result would be a masterpiece of culinary art.
Darcy received her copy of the menu and studied it carefully.
Chilled Melon Halves
Tomato Bisque
Filet Mignon with Mushroom Sauce
Broccoli Hollandaise, Garden Peas, Mashed Potatoes
Head Lettuce Salad
Fresh Strawberry Mousse
Mrs. Ediston had been pleased to release Darcy for the days of preparation before the event. She was excited that Darcy would be part of the once-in-a-lifetime experience.
“The president is a very likable fellow, and his wife is charming,” she told Darcy. As a senator’s wife, Mrs. Ediston had attended many receptions at the White House and had met them both. “This is a day you’ll remember all the rest of your life.”
Darcy did not know how true that would turn out to be.
On the day of the banquet, the Harvey House staff was ready an hour before the arrival of the special train, to which extra cars had been added for the conference attendees. Crowds of local people were waiting at the station and began waving American flags when the train pulled into sight.
Darcy reported to the uniform room to pick up her official Harvey Girl outfit. After over a month of dressing so casually in shirtwaist and riding skirt and often in rugged boots, she felt a little strange in the uniform. A check in the mirror, however, transformed her back to the days when the starched bib apron over the black dress with its crisp, high white collar was her everyday attire.
Harvey House was using its very best waitresses, and she had proved herself to be one of those.
Her elation was deflated the minute she reported to the dining room for the pre-dinner rehearsal. In the line of neatly uniformed Harvey Girls was Clemmie! Darcy’s first thought at seeing her was to immediately run over and hug her. But this impulse was nipped in the bud when her former roommate lifted her chin and pointedly turned her head at Darcy’s approach.
Crushed, Darcy stepped into the line and tried to pay attention as Miss Cannon went through the precise order of service.
The tables in the dining room had been arranged together into a U shape so that everyone had a good view of the head of the table, where the most important dignitaries would be seated. Miss Cannon quickly squelched any speculation about whether the president would be there.
“Harvey House guests are all treated equally, with the same courtesy and careful attention to their needs. Water glasses are never left empty, nor coffee cups unfilled. Each course is removed only when the customer has put down his utensil, not before. Diners should not feel rushed, nor should they have to stare at a plate with uneaten food remaining upon it.”
On and on her voice went, repeating all the rules that had been drilled into Darcy during her training. Her gaze kept returning to Clemmie, whose face was set, without even a flicker of friendliness. Darcy felt again the hurt of a lost friendship. She deeply regretted those few careless words she had spoken, words that had caused the unbridgeable chasm between them. This momentous event, which ordinarily would have been a shared occasion to discuss endlessly, now lay on Darcy’s heart like a dead weight.
She didn’t have time to think of her own feelings very long. Through the French doors opening from the dining room onto the courtyard, where the old war comrades were gathered, came the sound of laughter and male voices. The reunion had begun in full swing.
“Now, ladies, take your stations. Remember, Harvey House expects each one of you to make us proud,” Miss Cannon said in a hushed but firm voice.
With a final hopeful glance in Clemmie’s direction, Darcy moved to her station, which faced the doors leading from the courtyard into the dining room.
Even though for security reasons the guest list had not been disclosed, there was still a strong feeling among the staff that the flamboyant president might be among the attendees. There were rampant stories of how he often eluded his Secret Service guards to take unscheduled trips out of the White House or to play with his five rambunctious children on the lawns and tennis court. He just may have decided to join his former comrades-in-arms at this reunion. With this possibility in mind, Darcy searched the faces of the men flowing into the banquet room.
Then her blood turned to ice. Among the jovial groups still talking and laughing as they took their places, she recognized Dwight Michaels, one of Willowdale’s county commissioners, a man well known to her Uncle Henry and a frequent visitor to the Beehive. That alone would have been bad enough, but worse still, in the group accompanying Michaels she saw Grady!