Friday Morning, September 10, 1937
New York City
The heavy brass elevator doors slid open, then the metal grate. The operator, a gray-haired, older man in a navy blue coat and cap, stuck out his head and looked at us with a bored expression. “Going down, folks?”
“Yes, lobby please,” Verbina said, brushing past him as she stepped into the elevator cab. I followed, along with two bellboys pushing and pulling a luggage cart loaded to the top and then some.
“Yes, ma’am,” the operator said as he glanced around the crowded car. “No room for anyone else, so I’ll take you express.” He whisked us six floors straight down to the plush lobby of the Plaza Hotel, where he opened the doors and grate once more and tipped his hat, still looking bored. Aunt Verbina and I stepped out hurriedly, followed by the two bellboys and the luggage cart, which was leaning rather precariously.
“I’ll settle the bill, Heath. You get two cabs, the doorman will help you. Tell him we need to go to the Cunard Pier, and we’re in a hurry.” She glanced at her watch. “Goodness, it’s ten thirty already, and the ship leaves at noon. Hurry now!”
“All right, Auntie.”
I put on my fedora and walked quickly toward the 59th Street exit and out onto the street, the harried bellboys following, struggling to keep the luggage from toppling off the cart as it careened from side to side. Besides my garment bag, two large cases, and one small one that held my toiletries, Verbina had a steamer trunk, four matching oversized bags, three large hatboxes, one small one, a makeup case, a jewelry case, a garment bag, and a valise.
“Taxi, sir?” the doorman said, resplendent in a double-breasted navy coat with brass buttons and a matching brimmed cap.
“Yes, two actually. One for us, and one for all this luggage. Cunard Pier, number 90, 711 Twelfth Avenue, and we’re in a hurry.”
“Yes, sir.” He blew his silver whistle and held up two fingers in a spotless white glove.
As the two Yellow Cabs pulled up and the bellmen began loading the bags, trunks, and cases, Verbina appeared on the sidewalk. She looked stunning, as always, in a turquoise dress, belted at the waist, and a matching bow hat. Over her arm was draped a red fox stole, and under her other arm was a simple red clutch purse that matched her belt and shoes. People nearby took notice, and I was proud to be her nephew. I walked up beside her.
“Did you get everything settled?” I said.
“Yes, I’ve paid the bill, including your one dollar and thirty-three cent room service charge for a bottle of Coca-Cola, crab salad, and a piece of blueberry pie.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll pay you back.”
“It’s all right, though you could have walked to the corner drugstore and gotten the same thing for less than half the price.”
“It was the middle of the night, the drugstore was closed, and I was hungry.”
She looked me up and down. “Goodness, you’re twenty-two years old. Aren’t you through growing yet? The way you eat, honestly, where do you put it? The country is in a depression, dear. We mustn’t waste.”
“I didn’t waste any, I ate it all.”
“Still, it wouldn’t hurt for you to skip a snack once in a while, even though you’re as thin as a rail.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She glanced at the cabs. “Good. Are we all set, then?” she asked, ever so slightly out of breath.
“As soon as they finish loading,” I said.
“Well, let’s get in the first taxicab while they finish. No sense standing about in this heat. My, it’s warm for September. Give the doorman and those bellboys something for their efforts, dear.”
“All right.” I tipped the bellboys and thanked them, and then gave the doorman a quarter as he opened the cab door and helped Verbina in. I slid in beside her as he closed the door once more with a satisfying thunk.
“Sailing today, lady?” the driver said as he turned to look at us, in an accent Verbina told me later was decidedly Brooklyn.
“Yes, on the Queen Mary, Pier 90, at noon. Make a right on Fifth to Fifty-seventh, then take Fifty-seventh Street to Eleventh Avenue, and take that to Fifty-fifth. Take Fifty-fifth to the river and the Cunard dock.”
“From here I usually swing back along Central Park through Columbus Circle and then left on Columbus Avenue. I take that to Fifty-fifth and then down to the river, lady. It’s more direct.”
“You’re more direct. If you wish to address me, you may call me ma’am or Mrs. Partridge. Take the route I stated. You’ll avoid traffic and get there faster.”
He shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Yes, ma’am, you’re the boss lady.” He faced front and started his meter as the bellboys finished piling the luggage and bags in and slammed the trunk lids down. And then we were off, zigging and zagging through the busy Manhattan morning traffic, the other cab following closely behind.
As we rounded a corner, I looked over at Verbina. “You look terrific, as always, Auntie. That color really suits you.”
“Thank you, dear. It’s something new I picked up for the crossing. You look handsome as ever, but I do wish you hadn’t spilled coffee on your tan suit jacket at breakfast.”
“Me too. Clumsy of me. I had to pack it still damp in my luggage. And since it was a suit, I had to change completely.” I glanced down at my current outfit, which was a green single-breasted jacket with striped trousers, a yellow tie, and a matching pocket square. “But I guess this will do. Hopefully I can get the suit coat cleaned on the ship.”
“Just give it to your room steward and they’ll take care of it. That green jacket you’re wearing now clashes with my dress, though, dear.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know we were supposed to match.”
“Not match, but complement. A lady’s escort’s clothing should never clash with hers. Well, never mind, you can put something else on once we’re aboard.”
“Yes, Auntie,” I said with a sigh. “Gee, I wish we could have had more time in New York besides just a day and half. There’s so much to see and do here. It’s an amazing city.”
“It is indeed. You’ll have to come back another time. But New York was just a stopping-off point between home and London this trip. We’ll have two glorious weeks to explore the capital of England, its largest city, then back here for one night before heading home again.”
“I’m looking forward to it all very much.” I watched the sights of New York whizzing by out the cab window, craning my neck this way and that at the tall buildings and the masses of people. I didn’t see any breadlines that day, but we did pass two soup kitchens with lines already forming on the sidewalk, and several men panhandling or selling apples for a nickel apiece on the street corners. It made me feel tremendously guilty, not just for ordering that room service, but for all Verbina had paid for this trip so far: the train ride from Milwaukee, the two-night stay in New York City—at the Plaza Hotel no less—and now a holiday in Europe, sailing first class on the Queen Mary. I considered myself fortunate indeed.
The cabs stopped at the pier, and a haggard longshoreman hurried over to gather up our luggage as Verbina paid the two drivers. Then she adjusted her hat and addressed the longshoreman as he began loading our bags and trunks on his large, flat cart, his muscles bulging beneath a sweaty work shirt. I tried not to stare.
“We’re on the Queen Mary to Southampton, first class, or cabin class, as they’re calling it nowadays,” Verbina said to him. “The steamer trunk won’t be needed on the voyage, but the rest should go in our cabins. Those two large brown ones, the black garment bag, and that small black one with the tan stripe are my nephew’s. The rest are mine.” She handed him our tickets, and he marked each of the bags and trunks as another longshoreman with a bushy red mustache arrived to give him a hand. Auntie tipped each of them generously.
When the first man had handed Auntie back her tickets and she returned them to her handbag, she straightened up, gazed out at the small patch of brown water that was visible from where we stood, took in a deep breath, and said, “There it is, Heath, the Hudson River that will take us out to the Atlantic and over to England. And look! There she is, the majestic Queen Mary. Isn’t she something? Almost brand new, you know, not even two years old. What a sight to see.”
I sucked in my breath at the sight of the mammoth three stacker, its knife-edge prow almost touching the shore. “She’s huge.”
“One of the largest, in fact the largest, according to Cunard’s brochures, and the fastest. Larger and faster than the Aquitania, and she’ll beat Normandie’s speed record any day now, I’m sure of it.”
“Yes, so you’ve mentioned. Definitely impressive, a killer diller for sure.”
“A what?” she said, pulling on her gloves.
“Sorry, killer diller. You know, the best, the ultimate, like the bee’s knees.”
Verbina gave me a scornful look. “You’re not in college anymore, you must learn to speak like a gentleman.”
I sighed. “Yes, ma’am. Anyway, isn’t her sister ship almost ready to sail?”
“The Queen Elizabeth, you mean? Construction began last December, but she won’t be ready for a few years. Building a ship of that size takes time, you know. She’s supposed to be even larger than the Queen Mary, if you can imagine.”
I took another look at the mammoth beauty before us. “Hard to believe. I can’t wait to get aboard.”
“Nor I. As many times as I’ve sailed, this is always a thrill for me.” Verbina consulted her watch. “We’ll have to hurry. Oh, I do wish I hadn’t worn these heels. The first class gangway is this way. We’re on the main deck, adjoining cabins on the starboard side.” We started walking briskly toward the terminal, each of us staring up at the looming hulk floating effortlessly and almost magically in the muddy brown water that lapped gently at her sides. A few gulls floated about, with more of them soaring above, squawking and chirping. The longshoremen, I noticed, had finished loading our luggage and had disappeared.
The boarding line was short, as it was close to departure time, and once we reached the front, a uniformed man with a white cap scanned our tickets and passports, then handed them back to Auntie and wished us bon voyage. I removed my hat and we climbed up the canvas-sided gangway into an opening on the side of the ship. We found ourselves on A deck, amidships, in a moderately sized foyer. The purser’s office stood between two elevators, with long lines of people at the windows. Opposite that were three sets of doors leading to the main staircase. Masses of people scurried about like well-dressed squirrels up and down the stairs and the elevators, aided by a small army of uniformed pursers, stewards, and bellboys, all eager to assist.
Visitors mixed in with the passengers, all chitchatting loudly, gaping about, snapping photographs, and holding blowers, bouquets of flowers, and bon voyage baskets affixed with gay ribbons. It was loud, crowded, and stuffy, but the air almost crackled with excitement. No signs of the Depression resided here. This was the upper class, and though they may have lost some money in the great crash of ’29, they didn’t lose it all, and felt little guilt about displaying their wealth.
As I gaped at all the people I suddenly felt awkward and overwhelmed, and a bit unsure of myself. I was the son of a postal clerk and a housewife, put through college by a meager scholarship, my folks, a part-time job at Schuster’s Department Store, and the grace of my Aunt Verbina. I felt out of place, unlike her, who was standing poised and confident by my side. She was an experienced traveler, but this was all new to me. “How many times have you crossed, Auntie?”
“Goodness, I don’t keep track. Dozens of times, I imagine. This is my second sailing on the Mary. The first time on her was with David this past spring, of course. He had business in London.” She had taken out a gold compact from her purse and was studying her face in the small round mirror encased in its cover.
“Gosh, you’ve traveled so much. I remember Mom saying she’s never been farther west than Minnesota and never farther east than the shores of Lake Michigan. And she’s never been out of the country, not even to Canada.”
“Ramona is a good woman, and a good mother to you, Heath. She sacrificed a lot when she married your father,” she said, extracting a lipstick now and applying it with a steady hand.
“What do you mean? Pop’s a great guy.”
“I didn’t say he wasn’t. But he was, and still is, a working-class man. Not that there’s anything wrong with being working class, but the finer things are generally out of reach for them, and Ramona knew that when she married him.”
“He’s done plenty well providing for us, I’d say, what with the Depression and all.”
“Yes, he was lucky to get that job with the post office after they married. And then shortly after that they had you. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad they did, for as you know I don’t have any children of my own, and I’ve loved spoiling you as much as your parents will let me.”
“Why didn’t you ever have children of your own?”
She put the top back on her lipstick, snapped the compact shut, and dropped them both back into her purse. “That’s a rather personal question, but I’ll allow it because it’s you. To be honest, I’m not suited to being a mother. I’m better at being an aunt. I’m too selfish to raise a child. Unlike your mother, I married for social status, for money, and for the kind of life I always wanted, and I got it both times. I’m not saying I didn’t love my first husband, and of course I love David, but it wasn’t the primary motive to marry, nor do I think should it be. Good marriages are a business, a partnering of two people, of what each can bring to the table. David brought wealth and position, I brought refinement and respectability. A wealthy man should be married. It grounds him. In fact, every man should be married, eventually, in my opinion.”
“Every man?”
“Well, not every man, obviously. Not priests, of course, and there are a few other notable exceptions.”
“I don’t think I ever want to get married.”
She glanced up and flitted her gloved hand at me dismissively. “You say that now, but you’re young, inexperienced, and naïve.”
“I’m not naïve.”
Verbina smiled and touched my cheek with that same gloved hand. “Oh, my dear boy, enjoy your youth. Cherish it. The world is your oyster. Live your dash to the fullest while you can.”
“My dash?”
“It’s the time between our birth year and our death year, the dash on our tombstones. To live your dash means to live your life as completely and fully as you can. Don’t put things off, because we never know.”
“Ah, I see. That makes sense. And I intend to.”
“Good. It’s fine to have your dalliances in your youth, but a time will come in the not-too-distant future you’ll find you need a good woman to ground you.”
“Being grounded doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“Marriage isn’t supposed to be fun. It’s a business, a partnership, like I said before.”
“But are you happy? You seem to be.”
“Oh my goodness, child, yes, I’m happy, for the most part. My marriages have allowed me to have those finer things in life—nice clothes, jewelry, a lovely home, and the opportunity to travel, though I admit I sometimes feel guilty about it all, with so many people out of work these days.”
“I feel guilty about it, too, but none of these people seem to.”
She glanced about at the crowd and shook her head. “The privileged class enjoying the finer things in life. I wasn’t born into it like so many, and only came to it later when I married my first husband, so perhaps I value it more, and I understand what’s it like not to have it. I give as much as I can to charity, and I volunteer in the soup kitchens back home when I’m able to.”
“Yes, I know. You’ve got a good heart.”
She laughed. “That’s kind of you, Heath. These past years have not been easy for anyone, regardless of their social status or class. My friends the Connellys lost almost everything in the crash—their house, their yacht, nearly all their money, and he took his own life, leaving her alone and destitute. Fortunately, they didn’t have children.”
“What happened to her?”
“Sylvia moved back to Boston to live with her parents. So many lives have been ruined by all this. Still, President Roosevelt seems to be turning things around, what with his Works Progress Administration program and the new Social Security Act and all.”
“He’s done some good things, I think,” I said. “But there’s a long way to go yet.”
“It’s true, and I do worry about all that, my darling. But let’s not think of those things now. This is your first trip to New York, your first transatlantic crossing, and your first trip to Europe. It’s my gift to you, Heath. Your graduation present, as you know, but only the beginning of a world of travel for you, I hope.”
“I hope so, too. It’s awfully nice of you, Auntie. Extremely generous.”
“Oh, you’re worth it, even if you do fritter my money away on frivolous things like room service. You’re the first on either side of the family to graduate from college.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t exactly in the top of my class, as you know. And I majored in literature with a minor in French.”
“It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you graduated, and I’m proud of you, and so are your parents, of course. With a literature major, you may become an excellent teacher. I think you’d be quite good at that, and you’d have your summers off to travel. Yes, you should get a teaching job, I think. Most definitely.”
“Jobs, any jobs, are hard to come by right now, Auntie, if not impossible.”
“Not impossible for someone with a college education. But for now, let’s get settled. My feet are killing me.” She raised her gloved hand just high enough, and soon a bellboy in a short red jacket, white gloves, high black trousers, and a red brimless cap with gold braiding rushed to our side, beaming a toothy smile from ear to ear. He couldn’t have been much more than eighteen, if that. “Welcome aboard. My name is Albert, and I would be happy to assist you, Mrs.…?”
“Partridge. This is my nephew, Heath Barrington.” She opened her handbag and handed him our tickets, which he glanced at with a practiced eye.
“Very good, Mrs. Partridge, Mr. Barrington. Please allow me to show you to your cabins. You’re both on M deck, just one deck above where we are now. I’m afraid there’s a bit of a wait for the lifts.”
“Lifts?” I said.
“Elevators, Heath. This is a British ship, after all.” She turned back to the bellboy. “I need to have the purser put my pearls in the safe, but that will just take a moment. I’ll be right back.” Fortunately, the line for the pursers office had mostly dispersed, and she was back shortly. “Now then, Alfred, the stairs are fine, thank you. Lead on.”
“Albert, ma’am, and thank you, just this way,” the bellboy said.
We climbed the stairs from A deck up to Main Deck and then followed Albert down a narrow corridor to Verbina’s cabin. The keys to the staterooms were in the locks, removed as people checked in. Albert removed the key to M009, handed it to Verbina, and ushered us in. It was light and airy, paneled in a lustrous wood that positively gleamed. There were two beds, separated with built-in nightstands and a dressing table, the latter complete with a large round mirror attached securely to the wall. A metal fan was mounted to the ceiling and angled down.
“Your bathroom is just here, ma’am, and your cupboards are there. Your bags should be along shortly. If you require assistance unpacking, just press the call button for your stewardess. No need to dress for dinner this evening, first night out, you know.” He turned to me. “Mr. Barrington, your cabin is just next door, and there is a connecting door between the two staterooms, should you wish to use it. If you’ll follow me…”
He walked back out into the corridor, pausing briefly to let an old woman and another bellboy go by, and then stopped at M007, stepping aside as he handed me the key. It was a decent size, pretty much the mirror opposite of M009. The walls, as the bellboy proudly described them, were paneled in light Honduras mahogany, while the curtains, bedspreads, and such were in ivory satin with pink and green accents. The floor was covered wall to wall in a plush mint green carpet thick enough to sink my feet into. Both rooms, I noticed, had Bakelite punkah louvre ventilators.
“Your bags will be along soon, too, sir. Should you require assistance in unpacking, just ring for your steward. There’s a call button by the door, or if you prefer you can use the telephone on the desk.”
“Thanks. My tuxedo will need to be pressed,” I said, putting my hat on the desk. “I can manage the rest.”
“Of course, sir. Just ask your steward once your suitcases arrive. The first night out no one dresses, so we’ll have it back to you first thing in the morning. Is there anything else you or your aunt require right now?”
“No, that will be fine, thank you.” I gave him a fifty-cent piece and sent him happily on his way, in search of more passengers and more tips. That done, I used the bathroom, noting I had a full-sized tub with hot and cold water as well as salt water on tap. After washing my hands, I rapped on the connecting door.
Verbina opened it a moment later, looking shorter than usual because she had removed her hat and high-heeled shoes. I wasn’t used to seeing her like that.
“My feet were killing me,” she said. “Look what a bellboy just brought, a lovely bon voyage basket from your parents for both of us. Isn’t that sweet?”
I glanced at the basket of fruit on the table and smiled. “Indeed, though they shouldn’t have spent the money,” I said, knowing they could ill afford it. “We shall have to write them a thank-you note.”
“Oh, of course, we should each write a note. I rather thought my husband David would have sent flowers or something, but oh well, he’s a busy man.”
“Yes, he certainly is. By the way, I gave the bellboy who showed us to our cabins a fifty-cent piece. Do you think that was enough?”
“Of course. But don’t overdo it. Generally speaking, tips are given at the end of the crossing. Five dollars to your cabin steward, five dollars to the dining room waiter, two dollars to the deck steward, and one or two dollars each for the bar, smoking room, gym, and pool stewards.”
“Golly, that adds up to a fair amount.”
“For services rendered. It’s not required, but not tipping or tipping poorly is just as gauche as overtipping, and frequent travelers are known for how they tip or don’t tip.”
“I have a lot to learn, it seems.”
“It will be second nature to you in no time. Now the bellboys you can tip as you go, as you just did. They generally get tips from the waiters, bar stewards, and cabin stewards, though, so no need to tip too much.”
I felt like I should be taking notes. Just then we heard a gong in the hall and a bellboy shouting, “All ashore that’s going ashore!” followed by the ship’s whistle, loud and clear.
“Goodness, already?” Verbina said. “We’ve only just boarded, but then we were quite late. You shouldn’t have dawdled over breakfast at the hotel like that, Heath.”
“I’m sorry,” I said for the fourth time. I didn’t tell her, but the waiter in the hotel restaurant was fetching and attentive, and I really hated to leave, and then I had to go back upstairs to change my coat after spilling coffee on it while I was gaping at the waiter’s attractive behind.
“Well, we made it, so all’s well that ends well. Let me get my hat, shoes, and gloves back on, and we’ll go up to the sundeck.”
“What for?”
“For the send-off, of course. It’s quite gay. Everyone throws streamers and blows blowers and waves at those on the pier.”
“But we don’t know anyone on the pier, Auntie.”
“It doesn’t make any difference. We wave, and they wave back, you see?”
I didn’t really, but I was feeling rather agreeable, so after she’d dressed and I’d gathered up my hat, we joined the throngs crowding the rails on the sun deck, cheering, yelling, blowing, and waving as the old girl backed out into the Hudson, assisted by multiple tugs, and then swung around and headed slowly down the river toward the sea.
“Well, we’re off, and right on time. Twelve noon exactly,” I said as I returned my pocket watch, which had belonged to my grandfather, to my pocket.
“I’d expect nothing less, and I’m sure the captain will be trying for another record-breaking crossing, and he’ll do it if weather permits, I should think. We should pass the Lightship Ambrose by one o’clock, right on schedule. Let’s have a light lunch while we wait for our luggage, shall we?”
I wasn’t all that hungry and would have preferred to explore the ship, but seeing as how I was her guest on this trip and she was paying the lion’s share of the expenses, I accompanied her toward the dining room on C deck, my hat in my hand. On our way down the stairs, we ran almost literally into a woman about my aunt’s age, who was coming up the stairs. She was swathed in purple, with a deep purple hat that sported a white plume. She was wearing short white gloves, a fox stole much like Verbina’s draped about her shoulders, and an alligator clutch tucked under her left arm that matched her shoes.
“Why, Verbina!” the woman said as we all stopped on the landing and stared at each other.
“Myrtle Obermeyer, what a surprise. I don’t think I’ve seen you since you moved to Chicago.”
“Goodness, has it been that long? I’ve been in Chicago almost two years,” Mrs. Obermeyer said. “What are you doing on this ship? My gracious. Oh, and is this your new husband? I’d heard you remarried. My, he’s quite handsome. Tall and young, too.”
I blushed crimson and Verbina looked aghast. “Myrtle, for heaven’s sake. This is my nephew, Heath. My sister’s only child. My new husband is much older, and he couldn’t come with us because of some silly work situation. I’m treating Heath to this trip. He’s just graduated from college, you know.”
She looked me up and down from head to toe. “Oh, how nice, congratulations. Aren’t you going to introduce us, Verbina?”
“Of course, forgive me. Myrtle Obermeyer, I’d like you to meet my nephew, Heath Barrington. Heath, this is an old, old friend of mine, Myrtle Obermeyer, Mrs. Maxwell Obermeyer.”
“Careful on the olds, dear, I’m younger than you are, remember.”
“As you always remind me, Myrtle, but only by five months.”
“Five months and six days.”
“Yes. That means your birthday is this month.”
“That’s right, September the thirtieth. I’m a Libra, you know. Librans are known for being charming, graceful, and good humorists.”
“But not modest, obviously.”
“Oh, so witty. You’re a Taurus, of course. Known for their stubbornness, hedonism, and a love of luxury and comfort. Quite spot on, I’d say.”
“I had no idea you were such an astrology expert, Myrtle.”
“I had a few encounters with a handsome medium named Omar last year. I treated myself for my thirty-ninth birthday.”
“You treated yourself to Omar?”
“Certainly, darling. He also reads palms, you know. He told me I have one of the most fascinating love lines he’s ever seen, very long.”
“Of that I have no doubt. Sounds like it was a birthday gift that kept on giving. And now you turn forty on the thirtieth.”
“I’m still thirty-nine, dear.”
“For three more weeks, Myrtle, just three more weeks.”
“Yes, but you’ve been forty for nearly five months. How has it been being in your forties, Verbina?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“I do hope you’ll get me a birthday present. Something tall, well-built, and handsome, just like this fellow here. How do you do, Mr. Barrington?” She held out her gloved right hand, palm down, and I wasn’t exactly sure if I should kiss it like I’d seen in the movies, or just take it in mine and gently shake it. I decided on the latter.
“How do you do, Mrs. Obermeyer?”
“Oh, quite well, quite well,” she said, withdrawing her hand. “I’m a widow traveling alone, dear man. I didn’t even bring my maid. Poor Maxwell has been gone several years now, I forget how many exactly.” She looked me up and down again. “Are you single?”
“Myrtle! He’s twenty-two years old.”
She smiled. “That’s old enough, and then some.”
“In your mind, perhaps. What are you doing here, anyway?”
“Me? I was on my way up to the sun deck to see us off, but I’m afraid I’m too late. I waited forever for one of the lifts, then finally decided to take the stairs.”
“Yes, we’re well under way now, though not in open water yet,” I said.
She shook her head, the white plume in her hat waving back and forth. “Such is life. My fault entirely. I took too long with a bottle of bubbly Frederick brought me as a bon voyage gift. Actually, I took too long with Frederick, too.” She giggled at that, covering her mouth with her hand. “He was the last visitor off, I believe. Had we dillied and dallied any longer, he would have wound up sailing with us.”
“Frederick?” Verbina said.
“Frederick Henry Hamilton, a dear pet. I met him at the Stork Club last week when I got to New York. He’s simply charming and a divine dancer, among other things. He hated to see me sail, he was beside himself and he begged me to stay.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because when we first met he told me he was in banking. Turns out he’s just a teller, and rather witless. Still, we had fun, and he saw me off with a bottle of Veuve, which probably cost him a week’s salary. I promised him I’d write.”
“Which you won’t,” Verbina said.
“I may, but then again you’re right. I may not. Why keep his hopes alive?”
“You haven’t changed, Myrtle. So, where are you headed, besides Hades eventually?”
She gave a false laugh. “Verbina, you haven’t changed a bit, either, I see, except older. Still so, so witty. I’m on my way to Cherbourg to see my cousin Helen, Mrs. Arthur VanAllen.”
“I wasn’t aware you had a cousin in Cherbourg.”
“They’re from New York, originally. She and her husband live in Marseille, but they’re meeting me in Cherbourg. I’ll be stopping in Paris for a week on my way. So many French men there, you know.”
“Le ciel aide les hommes francais,” Verbina said.
“Don’t speak French, Verbina. I can’t understand a word of it,” Mrs. Obermeyer said.
“It means, ‘Heaven help the French men,’” I said, suppressing a smile.
“And if you can’t speak French, how are you going to manage in Paris and Marseille?” Verbina said. “That is the native language, you know.”
“My dear, I always manage, don’t you worry. There are other ways to communicate.”
“Yes, and you’re fluent in all of them,” Verbina said.
Mrs. Obermeyer shot her a look. “Practice makes perfect, I always say. And where are you two off to?”
“London,” I said. “This is my first crossing.”
“How charming. I know London well. Perhaps I should delay France and go on to London with the two of you,” Mrs. Obermeyer said, touching my arm. “I’d be happy to keep you company, Mr. Barrington, and show you around. I know all the best night spots, and Verbina’s never been one for nightlife. She gets tired quickly at her age, you know. You and I could have a very good time.”
“Um, well, uh, your cousin is expecting you, though,” I said.
“Exactly,” Verbina said. “And besides, those French men…”
Myrtle pouted her lips briefly, glanced at Verbina, and then back up at me. “True, true. Well, I can certainly keep you company on the crossing while Verbina naps. Ocean voyages can be rather dull, you know. The Verandah Grill becomes the Starlight Club after dark, and it’s the place to see and be seen. I’d be delighted to entertain you, so to speak. We could dance and drink the nights away, and toast the dawns.” She squeezed my arm now as she moved closer to me. “Do you tango? Or do you prefer to rumba? The rumba is the dance of love, flirtatious and sensual.”
“You’re too kind, Myrtle,” Verbina said. “But Heath’s engaged to a lovely young woman back home, aren’t you dear?”
I was taken aback by this unexpected lie, but picked up on it in a heartbeat. “Yes, that’s right. Olive Grant. I miss her already.”
Myrtle pouted again and released my arm. “Oh, dear, that’s too bad, all the way around, I should say. But of course, shipboard dalliances are left at the pier, and I’m the picture of discretion. Where are your cabins?”
“M deck. I’m in 009,” Verbina said.
“And you, Mr. Barrington?”
“Uh, 007.”
“They connect,” Verbina said flatly.
“How convenient. Are you sure he’s your nephew? You sound awfully protective.”
“Myrtle, don’t be insulting. Heath is my sister Ramona’s boy. You remember Ramona.”
She tittered again, covering her mouth once more with a gloved hand that had large, garish rings on nearly every finger. I’d never seen anyone wear rings over a glove before. “Oh yes, of course. Don’t mind me, I’ve had a touch too much champagne already, as I said.”
“With Frederick,” Verbina said.
“Yes. He was quite dashing, and he seemed so fond of me, poor man. I fear I broke his heart into little pieces.” She looked me up and down again. “Perhaps I should find a nephew of my own to be my traveling companion. We could each have our nephews, wouldn’t that be sweet? You know I can keep secrets.”
“So you’ve said, the picture of discretion. But there are no secrets to keep,” Verbina said. “Heath is my nephew, and he’s engaged.”
Mrs. Obermeyer smiled slyly. “Not much family resemblance, and you without your husband. Besides, as far as the fiancée goes, out of sight, out of mind, they say.”
“As I said before, Myrtle, you haven’t changed. I’d love to stay and chat, but we’re just heading down to lunch,” Verbina said, her voice rising in an annoyed tone.
“I’d join you but I’m not in the least bit hungry right now. I eat like a bird, everyone says so, like a little bird. It’s how I keep my figure, you know. But we simply must catch up, it’s been too long. I’ll stop by your stateroom after lunch and we can order a bottle of bubbly. I’m on B deck. B17 in case either of you are ever in the neighborhood.” She beamed at me and batted her eyelashes.
“We can meet in my cabin at two o’clock, M009. And if you want more champagne, we’ll charge it to B17,” Verbina said.
“Oh my dear, you’re such a kidder. Perhaps I’ll take a stroll about the Promenade deck until we reach the Lightship Ambrose and see whom I might run into. I’ll see you both at two. Ta!” She turned and continued her climb up the stairs, clutching the railing for balance and support.
“Ta ta,” Verbina said, calling after her.
“Nice to have met you,” I said.
Mrs. Obermeyer stopped and looked back, exposing a good deal of her legs, as she had hiked up her dress for the stairs. “I have a feeling we may get to know each other quite well, my boy. The voyage is just beginning. Bye for now.” She straightened her skirt and continued her climb up the stairs as we proceeded down the stairs.
“My goodness, Auntie, she certainly was something.”
“Yes, she’s something, all right. I met her years ago when we were young girls in finishing school. She can be a bit much.”
“I noticed.”
“And she noticed you. She likes younger men. All men, actually. I hope you don’t mind my inventing a fiancée for you.”
“No, not at all, I appreciate it. I have a feeling if it wasn’t for Olive I never would have gotten rid of her.”
“You still may have a fight on your hands, but at least you have a weapon at your disposal now. Myrtle doesn’t take no for an answer very easily.”
“Me and Olive against Myrtle, oh my.”
“Stay strong, Heath, stay strong,” she said as we reached the dining room.