A Woman of Independent Means (22 page)

When the lesson was over, Annie got out her wooden recorder, which she had brought with her to this country as a bride, and played folk songs for us, teaching us the words as we went along. To my amazement, the children learned the lyrics almost immediately. But I suppose the lyrics to many of our own songs are nothing more to them than a collection of sounds, and the German songs make just as much sense.

For the first time since we left the farm the children and I had the feeling of being a family again—or at least of being part of something larger than ourselves.

Please give my love to Dwight. I envy him for sharing so many hours of your life.

Je t'embrasse,
Bess

October 15, 1919
Dallas

Mr. Hans Hoffmeyer
7963 Alameda
Los Angeles, California

 

Dear Hans,

Annie received your letter but refuses to answer it, so, with her permission, I am taking the liberty of speaking for her. You are undoubtedly surprised to be hearing from me again after so many years, but events of the last few months have left Annie and me on a parallel course, and we decided to join forces in an effort to survive our mutual solitude.

When you abandoned home and family to try your luck in California, Annie wrote to me in the hope of returning to my employ, but the death of my husband last spring left me in severe financial straits and I am unfortunately in no position to hire anyone. So for the moment we are sharing a house and she is paying for room and board for herself and your two children with her services. But she has other expenses and cannot continue much longer without some form of financial assistance.

She was frankly dismayed to find your letter unaccompanied by any tangible evidence of concern for your children's welfare. At the very least you are responsible for half their support—a responsibility dating from the day of your departure, so your debt is already two months overdue. If your conscience does not hold you accountable, I can assure you that the courts will.

I look forward to hearing from you promptly—as do Annie and the children.

Sincerely,
Bess Alcott Steed

November 2, 1919
Dallas

Dearest Totsie,

I am hurrying to write this in the hope it will reach Westport before you and Dwight leave on your trip. How I would love to be with you, motoring through New England, stopping at old inns along the way.

Autumn does not arrive unnoticed in Texas—the oak trees are especially spectacular this year—but we do not enjoy it as you do. Sometimes I am filled with such longing for the part of the country my ancestors left behind. I wonder if I will ever feel as rooted to the land around me as you do. I have such a strange, unsettled feeling living in Texas again—as if I were only here because there was nowhere else to go.

Annie's husband, Hans, suddenly reappeared two nights ago. By a strange irony, it happened to be Halloween and when she opened the door, Annie shrieked as if she had seen a real ghost. If it had not been for me, I suspect she would have slammed the door in his face, but I insisted she invite him in for a cup of tea. Having failed to make his fortune—or even a living—in California, Hans has returned to Texas for the time being.

In spite of my letter describing my financial reverses, I think he fully expected me to give him a job, or at least to help him find one. I have no idea what to do for him, but I am determined to find a means of keeping him in town. Annie needs his help with the children and we can all profit from the occasional presence of a man in our lives—even an inadequate one.

The children were out trick-or-treating when Hans arrived and so when they returned home and saw him seated by the fireplace, they shrieked as loudly as Annie, but with joy, not terror. Children have no fear of ghosts—at least on Halloween night. I envy their ability to move so freely between the world they see and the one they only imagine. For them it is all one country which they can travel at will, whereas I am halted daily at the frontier of fantasy by the stern border guards of fact and logic who insist on reminding me that my husband has died and I am alone.

I am grateful that the children have been spared the sense of isolation that besets me. For them, their father is simply out of sight on some extended trip that could end any day. I doubt if they would be any more surprised to come home and find Rob sitting in our living room than they were to see Hans there. I went to early communion on All Souls' Day and prayed for the soul of my departed husband, but sometimes I feel the children are closer to him through fantasy than I am through faith.

Je t'embrasse,
Bess

November 20, 1919
Dallas

Dearest Papa and Mavis,

Since Halloween the children have talked of nothing but Thanksgiving. I don't know how they would measure time without holidays. We will be arriving Wednesday afternoon—by automobile!

Annie's husband, Hans, has moved back to town and gotten a job as a garage mechanic. In return for my continued support of his wife and two children, he is renovating a used car for me. He was able to acquire it at a very good price from a client who was upset by the constant service it required. I agreed to buy it on the condition that Hans would be responsible for its upkeep, so I trust I will be spared the problems that plagued its former owner.

Though Hans and Annie are still estranged, we have all come to depend on him in countless ways. Annie continues to punish him relentlessly for his ill-considered exit from her life last summer, but their small son welcomed him home instantly. The baby, of course, was too young to know she had been abandoned—even briefly—and will not hold him accountable until she is old enough to be told what happened by her mother.

My children have always adored Hans and his affection for them is uncomplicated by the guilt he feels toward his own offspring. I sometimes think men would make better fathers if they did not happen to be married to their children's mothers.

Annie will not allow Hans inside the house, so when he comes to see the children, he spends his time outdoors, and our small garden is thriving under his attentive eye. He is building a tree house on the branches of the only tree in our back yard large enough to support it and the children are already threatening to move in permanently.

We can hardly wait for next weekend. We'll start honking as soon as we cross Main Street.

Much love,
Bess

December 6, 1919
Dallas

Dearest Totsie,

Now that I have a car of my own, I am a new woman. I drove the children to Honey Grove for Thanksgiving, but once there I could hardly sit still long enough to pay homage to the obligatory turkey dinner. After the last piece of mincemeat pie had disappeared, I talked the family into leaving the table just as it was and going for a drive in the country.

The children were restless without a destination by which to measure our progress, but I was elated at the endless road ahead of us. I could have kept going far into the night if I had not had other passengers to consider. When it grew dark we headed reluctantly back into Honey Grove and found the dining table just as we had left it. We were all hungry again, so we merely exchanged used china and silverware for new and sat down to cold turkey and dressing.

Now that I am alone, my father and his wife have reasserted their parental role and I am astounded to admit how much I welcome their advice and concern. In the last few years I had begun to feel responsible for them, but my need seems to have made them strong again, and I am grateful for their renewed authority.

I had an unexpected phone call yesterday from the gentleman who has been handling my financial affairs since Rob's death. He has been away on business all fall and apologized for his neglect. Since I was forced to sell all the stocks he advised me to buy last summer and am in no position to reinvest, it had not occurred to me to feel neglected. Rather I felt in all fairness my financial position no longer merited his attention. However, he has invited me to have dinner with him next week at his downtown club to discuss my future. Since my financial future is nonexistent—at least for now—I cannot imagine what he has in mind. If common courtesy alone were not sufficient reason, curiosity would compel me to accept his invitation.

Je t'embrasse,
Bess

December 14, 1919
Dallas

Dearest Totsie,

Last night I dined with Arthur Fineman—and he gave me back my future. It seems he chose to ignore the telegram I sent him last summer from Vermont ordering him to sell the stocks he was holding in my name. He confessed to me last night that the check he sent me at that time was a personal loan, undertaken at his own risk and without my knowledge.

Last week he sold all the stock I still owned in a locally-based petroleum company—for four times the amount I paid. The difference was enough to repay my entire debt to him. And I still own the other stocks he advised me to buy. I was absolutely speechless on hearing the news last night—and still am today. Fortunately for my sanity, my pen continues to function even when my tongue fails me. However, there is no one within speaking distance who will rejoice at my good fortune as you will on reading this letter. You have always been close enough to hear a cry from the heart, whether the cause be pain or pleasure.