32
Lizzie
El Paso,Texas
1938
The night before my wedding, Henry and I sat on wooden chairs side by side on the porch of my new Federal-style house.
“Are you worried about this business in Europe?” I asked. He shrugged.
“Why would I be worried?”
“Cal seems to think Hitler is spoiling for war.”
“Cal is a pretty smart fellow, so he might be right, but even if he is, I can’t see us getting involved. It’s the other side of the world, for heaven’s sakes. All that trouble has nothing to do with America.”
Henry was stretched out beside me, his legs propped up on the outdoor coffee table. In one hand, he held a beer, and in the other, a lit cigarette. This was a new habit he’d picked up during his year in the Army, and one I was not fond of. We sat in silence for a moment, and I was worrying about Hitler and Europe and just hoping that Henry was right—but was startled when my brother suddenly burst out laughing.
“What?” I said, alarmed.
“Sorry...sorry. It’s just that I’m sitting here on the porch of this fancy house and I can’t believe you’re really going tolivehere. Mother and Daddy wouldn’t believe their eyes if they could see you now. Your new kitchen is as big as our old house.”
I couldn’t believe I was going to live there either. My new house was every bit as grand as the Hilton, although of course, on a smaller scale. But at four thousand square feet, with four expansive bedrooms and, to my bewilderment, two bathroomsandan indoor laundry, it still didn’t feel real to me. I knew Calvin was well-off, but we were engaged before I discovered the extent of his wealth. It wasn’t just his high-paying job. It turned out his parents were wealthy too.
“Who would have thought you, my roughhousing, horse-breaking, fence-fixing, tractor-driving sister, would become the well-to-do wife of some airplane genius?” Henry chuckled.
“It is a surprising turn,” I admitted.
Calvin and I continued to grow close after Henry left until we were unlikely best friends. When he told me he’d fallen in love with me and wanted me to be his wife, I was heartbroken, not pleased. I had no intention of accepting his proposal and figured it would be cruel to stay in our friendship knowing our feelings were imbalanced.
“I knowyou don’t feel the same way about me, and it’s perfectly fine,” Calvin said quietly. I was relieved, but still confused, especially when he added, “I just can’t help but wonder if there’s not a solution that would suit both of us.”
“A solution?”
“Your whole life is earning minimum wage at a hotel where most of the guests don’t even see you, but, Lizzie Davis, you are the kind of woman who deserves to be seen. I hate that you work harder than anyone I know and it’s all for so little. And don’t tell me you’re doing fine, because we both know you’re not. You have to work two jobs just to pay your rent on that terrible apartment.”
“You’ve never even been inside my apartment,” I replied stiffly.
“I don’t needto. That building is one strong wind away from being condemned.”
“We didn’t even have running water at the farm. This apartment is just fine.”
“Why should you settle forjust fine, Lizzie? Especially when you could be with someone who wants nothing more in this life than to make you happy?” I didn’t know what to say. After a while, Calvin took my hand and added softly, “I know from experience that the most important thing ina marriage is a solid foundation of friendship. This is a pragmatic proposal. I’ve accepted a permanent position at Fort Bliss, so I need to set up a home here, not to mention entertain more, so you could help with all that. And I could help you too. You wouldn’t need to struggle for every little thing. You work so hard, Lizzie—when do you even have time to stop and breathe? I could give you the gift of a comfortable life. And maybe, if you let me love you, in time, you’ll come to love me too.”
I was lonely after Henry left and so damned tired of struggling for every crumb city life had to offer. I’d already reinvented myself once—from farmer’s daughter to city battler. I could do it again, especially if it meant making such a good man happy in the process.
“You don’t even look the same,” Henry chuckled now. That laughter was music to my ears. His appearance had also changed—he looked strong and healthy, and there was a twinkle in his eyes. “You look like some backwater farm girl who found her way to the city, met a rich guy, and now gets to be a trophy wife.”
He was teasing and I knew he didn’t mean to cause offense, but I gasped as I looked down at my outfit. I’d bought it because the fabric was the color of Texas bluegrass and it reminded me of home. That dress was beautiful, but Henry had a point: it was also something I’d never wear back in Oakden.
But Cal pointed out that most of his colleagues’ wives rarely wore trousers and then he gave me a big stack of money, so I bought some dresses.
“And what did you do to your hair?” Henry asked now, chuckling as he reached to touch my head. I slapped his hand away.
“It’s called a pompadour, you oaf,” I muttered. I’d never really had a clue about how to style my hair—that had never bothered me before, but things were different now. Cal said the best way to learn was to watch professionals, so I’d been booking myself into the salon a few times a week.
“I was surprised when you wrote that you were marrying Calvin,” Henry admitted. “You never even liked to date, remember?”