Tessa McDermid - Family Stories (11 page)

A photo on one of the piles caught her eye and she picked it up. "Here, this is Grandpa Frank and his two sisters. The older one is Clara and the other one's Rebecca."

He studied the picture, then shook his head. "Okay, now I'm getting worried. You have way too much information about them. I mean, I didn't even know Grandpa Frank had sisters."

She stared at him. "Did you think he was an only child like G.G.? He had two sisters. Clara was older and married Sam. They moved to the east coast sometime after Grandpa Frank left Davenport, and they had some kids of their own. Grandma used to get Christmas cards from them. Mom probably did, too."

Preston lifted his hands. "I don't need al the details."

"You would like to know about Aunt Rebecca." She tapped the picture she was holding. A young girl with pigtails grinned at them, her bright expression a contrast to the more somber expressions of her brother and sister.

"What?" The word was long and drawn out.

"She married a restaurant owner. They stayed in Davenport for a few years and then he decided to move to California. Hol ywood. His restaurant was very popular with movie stars in the forties and fifties. Aunt Becca, as they cal ed her, was the hostess and everyone loved to see her."

He squinted at the picture. "This aunt?"

Hannah nodded. "Yup. Somewhere there's a picture of her al dressed up. She's wearing a ful -length fur coat, before everyone said fur was wrong. And she used to wear the highest heels you ever saw."

"Did you meet her?"

Hannah shook her head. "No. Just heard stories about her. Mom and her cousin Marcia were talking once.

Aunt Becca died young, probably from lung cancer, only nobody's ever said that to me. She smoked a lot, something else people used to do without knowing how bad it was." G.G. smoked at one time; Hannah knew this from the snapshots, but she'd never seen her smoke.

"Hmm. "Preston held the picture in his hand. "Did she have kids?"

Hannah grinned at his interest. "They adopted two boys. I have no idea where they are now. They'd be Grandmas cousins, so maybe she hears from them. One was a general in the army, with a bunch of stars. I'm not sure about the other guy."

"A general?"

She nodded. "Yeah, probably top-secret special clearance and al that other government stuff." Her brother was interested in the various branches of the service. His room was ful of books about soldiers and their deeds.

If only there was a book to explain G.G.'s reluctance.

"Maybe I'll ask Grandma about him," Preston was saying.

"You could. She likes to talk about the family."

Preston put the picture back on the stack. "Hey, Hannah, why don't you go to the pool. Go make a fool of yourself over that lifeguard you said was so cute."

"I can do that anytime. I only get two weeks every summer to look at Grandma's stuff." Her mother, Kate, who was a teacher, shared stories whenever she could, but her life was so busy, she barely had time to keep up with her classroom activities during the school year, let alone delve into family history. And in the summer, she liked to travel with their dad.

Preston hopped off the window seat and headed for the door. "Wel , I'm going outside. And I might just go to the pool."

"You do that, Preston. Oh, and if the lifeguard on duty is a girl, don't act like too much of a fool."

He stuck out his tongue and she laughed.

The door shut behind him and she sank onto the floor, gathering the photo albums closer.

**********

Chapter 7

August 1929

By the time Frank came home for lunch that first day, Marian had succeeded in cleaning and organizing the tiny apartment. A flowered scarf draped over the top of the worn dresser hid most of the scratches. She'd arranged their combs and brushes side by side. Placing their toiletries together had seemed so intimate, and she'd flushed at the idea of being alone with Frank now, for al time.

Their clothes were neatly hung in the wide wardrobe. She had picked a few flowers from the back of the garage, certain that Mrs. Sul ivan wouldn't miss them at al . Sitting in a can she'd covered with a piece of tinfoil, they brightened the round table that would serve for their meals.

The door opened and Frank entered, the noon sun silhouetting him in the doorway. "My, this is a pleasant sight for a man. To come into his house and find a pretty woman waiting for him."

He shrugged out of his suit coat. "You are pleased, Frank?" she asked. "We were right to move here?"

He kissed her. "Yes. Now, let's eat the sandwiches I brought home. I have to get back before long."

She showed him the cupboard under the sink where they could store their dry goods. "And we can squeeze an icebox in that corner once we buy one. I don't mind shopping every day until then. I'll have something to do."

She walked back with him after lunch, first careful y locking the apartment door. At the shop, he leaned down to kiss her but she jumped nimbly away. "Too many people, Frank," she murmured.

He laughed and patted her cheek. "I didn't know I'd married such a prude."

She pouted. "We're married now, Frank. We can't be making a scene in public."

A week after their move, she ventured into his father's grocery store. Rebecca and Clara were stocking shelves. Rebecca immediately ran over to Marian, hugging her around the waist.

"Leave her be," Clara said, pushing Rebecca away with an apologetic glance at Marian. "She's only been gone a week."

"Rebecca, go in the back room and sort those boxes that came in." Mr. Robertson's voice was harsh, and Marian's heart sank. She didn't want him angry with her, too.

But his smile was warm when he turned to her. "Settling in al right?"

She nodded. "We want you and Mrs. Robertson to come for supper soon."

"We'll let you have a few more weeks to settle in," he said. "Let me get you some groceries for now."

He wouldn't take her money. "No, Marian. You don't have to tel Frank, though." He gave her a big wink. "Our secret."

That night, Frank dropped into the easy chair Mrs. Sul ivan had unearthed in the attic. She'd sent furniture over to the smal apartment until Marian had reminded her the place wasn't that big.

"Thank you very much," she'd added. "Your furniture has made the apartment so homey."

She kissed the top of Frank's forehead. "Tired?"

He nodded. "The longest day ever. Not a single customer bought anything, Marian, but I swear everyone in town came to browse. I put shoes on little boys' feet al afternoon and helped three young guys try on suits.

Must al be tired of their threadbare outfits and wanted to see what they could look like. I almost told one of

'em to leave but Fred said anyone can come in. Never know who might buy."

He rol ed his head and Marian rubbed his neck. He leaned back against her hands with a sigh.

"Sure could've used you when I traveled the roads. Some nights, I could hardly sleep, I was so sore. Trying shoes on people is harder work, though."

She continued to rub his neck. Supper would keep, and he was in a talkative mood. "Frank, what do you want to do? I mean, do you plan to sel shoes and suits your whole life?"

"Not at al . I'm going to have my own business, first one shop and then two, and pretty soon, shops al over the country. Then you and I can just sit and watch the money fal in."

He pul ed her around until she was sitting on his lap. "And we're going to make it happen before we're too old to enjoy it."

He kissed her and started to unbutton her dress. "Supper wil get cold," she said but her words lacked conviction.

He successful y unfastened the last button and slipped the dress from her shoulders. He nibbled one shoulder, sliding the strap of her slip down to her elbows. "I'm not hungry for food right now."

Her slip was around her waist. He stood up, keeping her close to him, and quickly let the rest of her clothes fal to the floor. His own fol owed soon after.

Supper was forgotten. The room darkened. The only sounds were the sounds of the night and a wife comforting a tired husband.

She turned on her side and ran her fingers along Frank's face.

She could barely make out his features in the narrow streams of moonlight filtering in. His eyes were closed, his breathing that of a sleeping man. But as her fingers came to his mouth, he gently bit them.

"What about that supper?" he mumbled.

"Not sure what's left of it." She trailed her fingers across his cheek. "I thought you weren't hungry for food."

He pushed her off the bed, giving her bottom a swat. "That was before. Now I'm starving. Bring me some food."

She bowed to him, aware that his eyes were on her naked body. "Of course, dear master."

He rol ed over, burrowing his head into the pil ow. "Go, before I decide supper can wait again. And I think I'm going to need my nourishment."

She laughed and walked the few steps into the kitchen area. Moments later, they sat in bed, legs crossed, feeding each other and sharing kisses with the food, the room lit by a single lamp.

"What would your mother or my father say if they could see us?" She popped a piece of meat into Frank's mouth."Here we are, sitting naked in bed, eating supper. We are lost, my darling Frank."

He washed the bite down with a swig of water. "As long as I'm lost with you."

He looked at her, his gaze searching. Suddenly shy, she reached for her robe. His hand stil ed her movements.

"What's the matter?"

"I feel funny, sitting here with you, without any clothes on."

He cleared the dishes and food off the bed and pul ed her close. "Marian Robertson, don't ever be embarrassed with me. You have a beautiful body. When I first met you, I could hardly sleep. You were al I thought about, your face, your eyes, your skin. And the reality's even more beautiful than I ever imagined."

She trembled under his touch and at his words. Turning to him, she lifted her face and kissed his mouth. That tempting mouth that could say—and do—such exciting things. She rol ed onto her back, offering herself to this man who was her husband, urging him on, holding him close.

Eventual y they drifted into sleep, and when she woke, she didn't know how much time passed. He slept beside her, one hand curled under his cheek, his dark hair tousled on the pil ow. She climbed out of bed and carried the dishes to the table. Coming back, she gazed at him. For a moment she was frightened at the enormity of what they'd done. They had pledged their lives in this marriage and yet, what did they real y know about each other?

He shifted, his mouth opening slightly in his sleep. Her heart lurched with love. He loved her and she loved him. She felt complete, willing to trust him with every inch of her body. They'd been right to marry. She turned off the light, tucked the covers around him and crawled into her side of the bed, curling up next to her husband, settling down for the night.

Frank was gone when she woke up. She stretched. The long day loomed ahead. The cleaning of their smal home took little time and she only had one meal to cook. After that first lunch, Frank general y stayed at the shop, using the extra minutes to make another sale.

"I need more to do," she told Mrs. Sul ivan. The older woman had invited her over for lunch.

"You can use that patch of garden behind the garage." Mrs. Sul ivan poured tea into wafer-thin cups. "Then you can have al the flowers you'd like without feeling guilty."

Marian flushed. "I didn't think you'd notice."

Mrs. Sul ivan chuckled. "I didn't. El ie saw you out the window." The young maid had let Marian into the house.

"We both thought it was good that the flowers are being enjoyed. You could grow your own vegetables, too.

Tools are in the back of the garage."

"Thank you." Working in the dirt would give her a task for part of the day.

Mrs. Sul ivan seemed to read her mind. "Gardening won't keep you busy al day, though. Why not come to my committee meeting? Even if you're pregnant, you won't have the baby for a number of months. You'll need something to do during that time."

Marian jumped, her hands resting instinctively on her stomach. A baby?

"We help women who've been deserted or were widowed by the Great War," Mrs. Sul ivan continued. "Even after almost fifteen years, some of these women barely make enough to feed and dress their families. We take in donations and mend clothing and try to assist as many of them as possible. Can you sew?"

Marian's head was whirling by the time she went back to her apartment to fix supper. Mrs. Sul ivan had talked about child care, feeding and clothing families, teaching tiny children to read and write, working with elderly people, until Marian couldn't think anymore. She didn't want to work yet. She just wanted to be Frank's wife.

Frank was exhausted when he came in. He sat on the top step, enjoying the light breeze, while she finished supper preparations. He was silent as they ate and after several attempts to make conversation, Marian stopped talking. She washed the dishes, then found that he was already asleep in bed.

She turned off the lamp and crawled between the sheets. When she snuggled up to him, kissing his shoulder, she was answered by a gentle snore. Looking at his back in the pale light of the moon, thinking of how lonely she'd felt al day, she felt an urge to cry or shout. Stifling both, she turned over and went to sleep.

A pattern quickly evolved. Frank was often gone when she woke up, slipping out quietly at first light. She joined Mrs. Sul ivan on the committee, patching clothes, baking bread and rol s that were taken to families throughout town, watching children while their mothers shopped or rested. Her own housework took only a few minutes each morning, and she discovered that Frank didn't mind what he ate in the evening, so long as it was fil ing.

She was worried. They hadn't made love in three weeks. She'd hoped the weekends would be better, that he wouldn't be so tired, but he'd started working Saturdays. Working on commission didn't pay much and he was determined to buy their own house.