I shrugged. “Makes sense, but seems a shame to keep them locked up here in Cincinnati.”
“Are you pulling my leg? It gives me something to look forward to when I come home.”
It was pretty and all, the greenery, the mansions with the hugelawns set back from the roads, but I couldn’t imagine calling a place like this home, not a streetlight in sight, let alone a billboard.
“Don’t squint your pretty eyes like that,” he said, taking my hand on the white leather between us. “I grew up here, remember, it will always feel like home to me.”
It had taken me eighteen hours to get there in Archie’s railcar. I rode through Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, and, oh, I lost count of the others. After a while, though, no matter how luxurious, staying in one train car with no one but his butler, William, to converse with, I began to go a little crazy.
“I can’t wait to get on the dance floor, Archie. My legs are falling asleep.”
“Not long now, Olive,” he said.
We arrived just before the ceremony began and slipped into a pew in the back. Flowers were everywhere, the groom standing at the front of the church anxiously awaiting his bride, the guests chattering, hats bobbing. And then the room silenced as the bridal processional began.
I’d attended a few weddings before, but I’d never been particularly interested in the details until now. Just the sound of the organ, everyone turning to watch the bride enter the room, arm in arm with her father, filled me with unexpected emotion as I began to imagine what our own wedding day would feel like. I longed for things with my father to be patched up by then. I hadn’t seen him since I’d moved out of their house in Flatbush over a year ago and I couldn’t picture a day so special without my family at my side.
Afterwards, Archie drove us to his friend’s house for the reception.
“Here we are,” he said, turning into a long brick driveway and through an ornate wrought-iron gate with two stone columns on either side. At the top of the driveway was a palatial home. A stone staircase led up to the white stone house. There were four columns in front, and between them were two cathedral windows flanking a shiny black front door. It was magnificent.
We were greeted and led into a crowded, stately room, and after just moments I heard a woman’s voice call out over the others.
“Archibald!” A woman in a long rose-colored dress with long sleeves and a high neck strode toward us as if she owned the place. “I didn’t see you at the church.”
“We were in the back, Mother, we made a quick exit,” he said.
“And you didn’t think to drive me?”
“I assumed you’d have your driver. Was I wrong?”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not the point.” I was starting to feel uncomfortable; she’d made no move to acknowledge me.
“Well, Mother, be that as it may, finally, allow me to introduce you to my fiancée, Miss Olive Shine. I’m so happy for you both to meet.” He said it so proudly, and I loved seeing his face as he spoke.
“Welcome,” she said, though the way she stood a few feet from me, her hands interlaced in front of her, seemed to suggest the opposite.
“So nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Carmichael,” I said. “I’ve been so looking forward to it. I just arrived off the train, literally moments before the ceremony began.”
“Lovely,” she said as she turned and walked toward the reception area decked with white chairs, white flowers, white linens. “This way,” she said. “I’ve seen to it that you’re seated at my table.”
Archie squeezed my hand as we followed behind her, and I wondered why he hadn’t warned me about her before now.
“Tell me,” she said to me once we were seated, “how was the train ride?”
“Very comfortable, thank you. But I’m glad to be here. I’ve never been to Cincinnati before and I’ve been so eager to meet Archie’s family, especially you. You’ve done such a fine job with this gentleman.” I smiled at Archie, but it was as if his mother didn’t even hear me.
“A city girl,” she said with what I thought seemed a hint of disdain.
“Well, now I am,” I said, reaching into my purse for my cigarette case out of habit when things felt tense or awkward. But recalling the incident at the Plaza, I quickly changed my mind. Archie was such a kind, warm soul—all my friends commented on how easy he was to talk to, how they felt they’d known him for years when they’d only just met—so I hadn’t expected his mother to come across so icy.
Archie came to my rescue and took me around the room, introducing me to some of his work associates and their wives. They were pleasant, some a little too interested in the fact that I was a show girl, but mostly, I gathered, it was because they’d never met one before. And then, as we were finally making our way toward the dance floor, Archie made an abrupt turn in the opposite direction and took me with him.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“There’s someone I’d rather not—”
And then a woman’s voice called out. Younger than his mother’s but shrill just the same. “Archibald, is that you?” Archie kept walking. “Archibald, I know it’s you.” He slowed his step and turned.
