Claire Gulliver #04 - Cruisin' for a Bruisin' Read online

  “They’re begonias. Tubular begonias and they are spectacular.” Lucy had her camera out, her umbrella laid aside while she busily took pictures from every angle, the lattice top of the bower diverting much of the rain.

  “You know, Claire, I think I could do something like this at the end of my patio. It would be lovely.”

  Claire nodded enthusiastically. Lucy had a wonderful backyard and a bower like this would be a great addition. “Would they grow like this in Burlingame?”

  “I think so. I’d have to put in a misting system and build a frame like this to give partial shade, but there’s a place down off of Highway 92 in Half Moon Bay which specializes in begonias. If they grow there they’ll probably do well in my yard.” She nodded happily, already planning her begonia bower as she retrieved her umbrella and headed up the steps following the sign pointing toward the sunken garden.

  * * *

  The heavy downpour made the inside of the ship seem very cozy. Millie stayed far away from all the areas where food was served, in anticipation of the high tea they were going to have later at the Empress Hotel. Ruth had headed to the spa to use the indoor swimming pool, but Millie wanted to find a comfy corner to work on her menu planning. She hoped to finalize her menus for the two weeks after her return and have a menu ready for Mrs. Richman’s approval for the dinner party she wanted Millie to cater in October. Ruth scolded her for working on her vacation, but Ruth just didn’t understand how much fun Millie was having with this. Claire and Lucy understood probably because they each loved the work they did. She stopped at the coffee bar and ordered a latte and then looked around for a table. Over in the corner near a window was Mrs. Bernbaum, sitting all by herself looking a little lonely.

  Millie decided the menus could wait a while and approached saying, “Mrs. Bernbaum, do you want company?”

  She looked up surprised and then a pleased expression spread over her face. “Oh, how nice. Yes, please sit down and have coffee with me. I was just looking out at this dreary weather, thinking how glad I am I didn’t go on the garden tour.”

  “Me too. Ruth and I bowed out this morning, but Claire and Lucy went.”

  “Ah, they’re so young they probably don’t feel the dampness creeping into their joints.” Her laugh was rough, almost a cackle. “Or they’re just not wise enough to wait for another time.”

  The waitress delivered Millie’s latte and looked at Mrs. Bernbaum to see if she wanted anything else. When Mrs. Bernbaum shook her head, she left them.

  “So where is your nephew today?” Millie inquired politely, knowing how much Mrs. Bernbaum liked to talk about her Dickie.

  “He’s out in the rain. He’s going to the gardens and then to a winery. He says he wants to see it all.” She smiled indulgently and then continued. “And Anita, my caregiver is out, determined to have her feet planted on solid ground despite the rain. She is not finding her sea legs and complains all the time. Frankly I’m glad to have her out of my hair for a while.

  “Speaking of hair, what do you think of my do? The girls in the salon worked on me this morning and I think they did a nice job.”

  “Very nice. Isn’t it wonderful to have all these services available? I’m really enjoying this cruise. How about you, does it compare favorably to your previous cruising experiences?”

  “Oh yes. This ship is so grand and so big. It’s like being at a magic resort, isn’t it? Every morning we wake up in a different destination.”

  Millie smiled her agreement, not even minding when Mrs. Bernbaum grabbed her arm pulling her closer to say in a hoarse whisper, “I am so sorry you lost your one true love so long ago. I know how sad that is. And you never found another?”

  Millie shook her head, her eyes tearing suddenly, even after so many years sadness enveloped her in a breathless vise.

  “My Nate was impossible to replace. Most people don’t understand..., but I think you do. Your friend says you change; you become a different person so it is possible to find another perfect mate, different from the first, but still perfect. That didn’t happen for me. I don’t think it happened for you, either.”

  “Ruth doesn’t understand. She has been married four times. And recently she has found another perfect man. I wanted to find someone else. I wanted Claire to have a father when she was little. It just didn’t happen.

  “How long had you and Nate been together?” she asked Mrs. Bernbaum gently.

  Mrs. Bernbaum stared out the window, as if the rain cascading down the glass would tell her something, then she sighed, released Millie’s arm and took a sip of her coffee.

  “Not long enough. Not nearly long enough.”

  She shook her head and looked closely at Millie. “I met him during the war. That was the big war, World War II. I worked for the USO organizing activities for the military personnel going through San Francisco. We held dances four times a week.

  “I was a widow. I had lost my first husband shortly after we married. We met in college. That’s why young ladies of my generation went to college, you know, to find a husband. So I found a suitable husband just as my parents intended me to do, but he was killed in an automobile accident less than a year later. I was sad, naturally, but I confess I led a frivolous life and I didn’t really know grief. As a widow I had the freedom of a married woman during a time when single women had to worry about their reputation. I had no responsibilities, no money worries and as a widow I was free to socialize, to involve myself in charity work and basically frittered my time away.

  “Pearl Harbor jolted me out of my easy life. I got involved in the USO. I threw myself into it as if what I was doing would alone make the difference between victory and defeat. Not that maintaining the morale for our troops wasn’t important, but now I realize I was just a dilettante. I could have volunteered at the hospital. I could have joined one of the services. But either of those activities would have meant a total commitment. Still I tried to do something, so I poured my energies into the USO.”

  Her eyes glazed over as she murmured, “It seems like it was only yesterday when I met Nate.”

  * * *

  “Mary, those two girls over there can’t be out of high school. Check them out. If they’re as young as they look send them home.”

  “But Flo, we’re short girls tonight. Can’t we just look the other way? You can see how popular they are with the guys.”

  Flo watched the two girls; one blond, the other with brown hair, both had shoulder-length curls, which was the style of the day. They wore full skirts, sweaters and bobby socks with their high heeled shoes as many did now that silk stockings were impossible to find. And they were good dancers, which was almost as important to the soldiers and sailors as the fact that they were girls. She was tempted to follow Mary’s advice and ignore their age because the girls scheduled for duty tonight couldn’t keep up with the number of service men, who chose tonight to attend their dance.

  She shook her head. “We don’t dare. What if Father Riley finds out? You know how nervous he was about allowing us to use the church hall on Wednesdays. We’d be out on our ear. We promised him no minors. And those girls look like they could be two students from the parish high school.”

  Then she added, more gently, “I’ll call some girls on the back-up list and see if I can get some more dancers here.” She headed for the telephone, relying on Mary to sort out the situation with the young girls. She hated being the disciplinarian, but she was in charge and she had worked too hard to set the locations for the four USO dances to lose one because a couple of kids wanted to dance.

  Where were their mothers anyway? Didn’t they keep track of their kids? Then she smiled wryly to herself, thinking their mothers were probably on the night shift out at the shipyards doing their bit for victory, leaving their kids to fend for themselves.

  After twenty minutes of frantic calling she found four women willing to get over to the dance within a half hour. Two of them said they would bring a friend or two, which would certainly help
. Now confident she had solved their crisis she looked around the hall noticing the cluster of uniformed men around the table containing the sandwiches, the coffee and the punch the church’s Ladies Altar Guild provided for the dance.

  Putting these dances together was a mammoth effort. The location was only one factor. They needed volunteers to provide the food. She had to arrange for the women, who would come and serve the food. She needed girls who loved to dance, making sure they agreed to dance with anyone who asked them, no matter how clumsy or shy the service men were. And of course the music was very important. Sometimes she was able to get a real band, but when she couldn’t, Mr. Silva was happy to provide the music. He was a sweetheart. Too old to serve himself, he said he was still good for something. He used two phonograph players and his own extensive collection of records, which included all the popular dance bands. He not only queued up the next record to begin when the previous one ended, but he kept up a lively chatter to encourage mingling.

  The music was loud and the dancers enthusiastic. The women who volunteered came to support their men, albeit, everyone’s men. They were from all walks of life, some with loved ones of their own overseas. Some just liked to dance. Some only served the refreshments and some just listened to the lonely men talk.

  She noticed too many of the men hanging around the punch bowl were wistfully watching the dancers, because there weren’t enough women. Her reinforcements wouldn’t be arriving for a few minutes so she headed for the ladies room, intending to shoo anyone sneaking a cigarette under the guise of fixing their lipstick back out to the dance floor. This wasn’t the right time for primping, she thought.

  “Dance?”

  She veered around the man blocking her way and then realized he had been talking to her. She looked at him, momentarily stunned by his piercing eyes. He was tall and muscular. Mature, not old and he had a weathered face, the laugh lines framed the blue of his eyes.

  She smiled at him. “Thank you, Captain, but I’m not one of the dance hostesses. I’m sure you’ll find someone who will be a better dancer over there.” She nodded her chin towards the punch table.

  He shook his head. “Nope, I’ve already found someone who suits my tastes. There is no one here who compares with you. Surely you have time for one dance with a lonely flier lad before he’s shipped off to fight for you and your country.” The smile was lazy but the glint in his eyes was pure devilment.

  She laughed, unable to refuse his outrageous flattery and so found herself in his arms and on the dance floor. There, in spite of him being more than a foot taller than her and almost twice her weight, they seemed to float to music as if they were one entity. So of course they danced another one. She was very tempted to follow him for a third song, but fortunately she remembered the rules in time.

  “Sorry, Captain, but we’re only allowed two dances with the same person before changing partners.” She smiled with regret, explaining, “It’s so everyone gets a chance to dance, you see.”

  “But can you dance with me after a break?”

  She nodded, suddenly wanting another dance very badly.

  He slipped his arm through hers and steered her toward the punch bowl. “Let’s have a drink and you can tell me all about yourself.”

  Flo actually blushed, responding to his charm as she hadn’t to anyone else. Later they both admitted they suspected even then they were going to be seriously connected.

  * * *

  “Oh, that sounds so romantic.”

  Mrs. Bernbaum nodded. A dreamy smile touched her lips. “It was, but it wasn’t easy. There were rules you know. Women in the USO weren’t supposed to date men they met at the functions. It was a good rule. It was to keep the activities wholesome, entertaining and not a dating service. Oh, I know, many people ignored the rules. I couldn’t, you see, because I was in charge. I had to set an example. But suddenly I found those rules very depressing even though Nate understood.”

  “But how did you get together?”

  “Nate. He took care of it. He found someone who knew someone, who knew someone else and somehow got invited to a charity benefit I was attending the next night. He was introduced to me properly, in front of many witnesses, completely away from any USO activity and the rest was history. He only had five days before shipping out again and we took advantage of every minute. We would have married before he left, but we just didn’t have enough time. So we decided as soon as we were together again it would be the first item on our agenda. And he promised me he would return.”

  Mrs. Bernbaum clasped Millie’s wrist tightly, so she couldn’t leave before she finished what she wanted to say. She leaned her head forward. “I had been married before, but I didn’t know love until I met Nate. I thought I had been happy. I thought I was heartbroken when my first husband died, but it was as if I had been living protected from real life by a gauze screen. When I met Nate everything was so intense. The sun was brighter, the clouds were darker; my love could barely be contained.

  “Oh, and I worried so. He was going to England to fly missions over Europe. It was so dangerous. I didn’t know how I would live with him gone, but there was no choice. He had to go. I had to be brave for him. We all had to do what we had to do. It was expected in those times.

  “We hoped he would get leave again, but he didn’t. Thank God, when the war ended he was still alive. But even then he wasn’t released immediately. And we waited. He wrote me the most beautiful letters. I still have every one of them. It seemed like our lives were on hold forever.

  “Do you remember those years?” she asked peering into Millie’s eyes.

  Millie shook her head. “I was a toddler. What I remember were the books and movies of that time, but written later, and of course the stories I heard.”

  Mrs. Bernbaum relaxed, letting go of Millie’s arm, and sat back in her chair. “You know, my dear, the worst thing about getting old is finding you can’t share your memories with anyone. Suddenly it is as if you were the only person alive who remembers certain times. It’s very sad.”

  Millie felt a shiver, realizing longevity had a price.

  “But look at me? I’m starting to get maudlin. I’m sure you have better things to do with your time than listen to me.”

  “Oh, no Mrs. Bernbaum, I enjoy talking to you and hearing about your life. I hope you’ll tell me the rest of the story.”

  “I will, of course I will. Another day perhaps.”

  “Ruth and I are going to take a taxi into the city to the Empress Hotel to meet Claire and Lucy for tea. Would you like to join us?”

  Mrs. Bernbaum’s smile was tremulous. “Me? You’re inviting me to join you?”

  “Of course, we’d love to have your company. It will only be for a couple of hours and I hear it’s very fancy.”

  “My dear, thank you for asking, but I must decline. I need to take my nap.” She smiled ruefully. “The penalty for having the late seating for dinner is an afternoon nap, so I don’t doze off during the main course.” She struggled to get out of the chair, then stood a moment as if to test her legs before heading for the elevator. “See you at dinner tonight. I’ll look forward to hearing all about the tea.”

  She tottered with determination across the lobby toward the elevators while Millie tried to picture her as she was when she met her Nate.

  * * *

  “Oh, you didn’t wait for us?” Ruth was clearly disappointed.

  “Yes, we did. We didn’t order anything to eat even though we were tempted. We had to have some tea to warm us up. Don’t worry, we’ll order it all again.”

  “Did you both get soaked? I hope you’re not going to come down with a cold.” Millie took off her jacket and settled in a chair facing her daughter.

  “It was cold and damp, but it was wonderful. I think it was even better in the rain. And actually, except for our feet, we stayed pretty dry.”

  Ruth was busily examining the menu, but Millie took the time to gaze around the elegant room where the Empress Hotel w
as serving tea.

  “Oh my gosh. Look at these prices.” Ruth looked up. “Are we sure we want to eat here?”

  “Those are Canadian dollars, Ruth,” Lucy said. “And besides we deserve to treat ourselves.”

  “It is very nice here, Ruth.” Millie was taken with the ornate Victorian décor, the heavy velvet draperies, the rich carpets on the polished wood floors, while the subtle clink of silver sounded through the room and the crystal stemware gleamed richly in the dim light. The hotel itself was old and elegant, similar to the St. Francis in San Francisco.

  “Lucy is right. The price is not the object. This is a treat,” Millie told Ruth.

  “Well, in that case we’d better do the whole thing and go for the High Tea. It’s the most expensive, so it must be the best. What kind of tea should we order?”

  “We have Earl Grey and will probably stick with that. So order whatever appeals to you and Mom.”

  “I like Earl Grey, or perhaps Oolong. Either of those okay with you, Millie?”

  The waitress took their order and left them to catch up on the activities of the day.

  “Mom, the Rose Garden was outstanding. I took a picture of the most beautiful rose I’ve ever seen. I hope it comes out because you’re going to drool over it. It was crimson, but as the petals unfolded it was white inside with crimson only on the edges of each petal. It was just too perfect!”

  “The last of the summer flowers were still in bloom and the fall flowers were just starting to bloom. So we got to see two seasons,” Lucy added.

  “We bought seeds, oodles of seeds. I got some for you too. I’d show them to you, but they’re sealed with an agriculture sticker so we can get them through customs. I thought I might plant some of the wildflowers in that weed patch behind the book shop. And I’m hoping some will take to the planters on my porch at home.” Claire always regretted she didn’t have the time to do much with her yard, either at home or at the store. And so far she only had a service in to mow the weeds into some semblance of a lawn so her neighbors wouldn’t complain. But after seeing these gardens she was convinced she needed to pay attention to the yard behind the store. She could envision a nice patio with flowers and shaded places for customers to sit amongst the flowers to read while deciding which books to buy.