Speak Easy to Me

Chapter 1

The sweat started pooling on my forehead. It was mid-January in Northern Wisconsin; I should not be sweating. Though my blood was running as cold as the snow blowing wind, I was burning up. I had never been this nervous in my whole life. I was leaving everything and everyone I knew to marry a man I had never met.

It had only been a week since my father sat me down at the large family dining room table and told me my life was about to change. I was to be married to a well-connected man in Chicago. I was going to go to my rich, estranged Uncle Lon’s house in the city in the meantime.

My mother had not spoken to her brother, my Uncle Lon, in almost 30 years. She had been disowned for marrying my father, a lowly farmer, when her father had a well-bred man lined up for her. I was very apprehensive about going to stay with him. I had only heard through secondhand stories and whispers illustrating how awful he was. I couldn’t believe my parents were going to give their blessing on this.

I had never been to a big city before, barely left my hometown of Kwahomat, spending most of my time on the family farm. I also had no clothes, nor manners, for the high society circles my uncle was a part of.

It started when my father left to run an errand for 3 days. What was actually happening was a secret meeting with Uncle Lon where he laid out an offer knowing my family couldn’t pass up.

The crash of 1929 had hit my family, along with millions of other famers, hard. We were barely scraping by, having to let most of the farm hands go due to not having money to pay them. A few stayed, even though all we could provide was food and a place to sleep. Most of the men were unmarried so they didn’t need much more than that.

The offer my uncle presented to my father, as if he had a choice, was simple; I would marry his business partner’s son and he would pay off all my family’s debts. I was the oldest of 5 girls and unmarried, so naturally my father knew I would be the most logical choice. He also knew I would be the one of least resistance. Although I am a tough farm girl, I love my family more than anything and would do anything to help ease their burden any way I could.

I hadn’t spoken to my father or mother for 2 days after they sat me down at the kitchen table and told me what had transpired on my father’s “trip”. At first, I was so shocked I couldn’t speak. Then I was so mad, I refused to talk to anyone; just stewing in my anger for 2 days. I finally broke down when I heard my mother crying in her room one night, realizing that this was hurting them as much as me.

I decided, reluctantly, that I would go and do what had to be done. Thinking about my life on the farm, working from morning to well into the night, falling asleep due to exhaustion. I had no idea what to expect except for what I had seen in the movies. My favorite being Ladiesof Leisure with Barbara Stanwyck. Like Barbara’s character in the movie, I didn’t have very many options.

Was this deal better than nothing? I had no prospects. No serious ones anyway. I was fooling around with a man on the farm, Nick, who was a few years older than me, in his 30s.

Long days on the farm and a chance encounter one night led to a physical relationship. We would spend most nights under the stars together. He was handsome enough with his sandy blonde hair and dull brown eyes.

News travels fast around the farm. He approached me on the morning of the 3rd day after my father told me. The sun was just breaking over the bare trees.

“Is it true?” he said to me as he peered at me from under the brim of his hat. I’d been trying to avoid him because I didn’t know how to approach the subject. It had been easy enough the first few days since I was in such a mood. I couldn’t avoid him now.

“Yes. I’m leaving for Chicago in a few days.” I couldn’t look him in the eye. I wasn’t sure what we had, but I knew it wasn’t going anywhere. He knew it wasn’t going anywhere, so I wasn’t sure why he seemed to be a little hurt with my confirmation.

“And you’re getting married?” He seemed to be getting increasingly upset. I could only nod ‘yes’ in response. “To a guy you don’t even know?” He threw his hands up in frustration, raising his voice a little bit.

I moved in a little closer to him and grabbed his hands in mine. “I’m sorry. I should have been the one to tell you.” He yanked his hands out of mine. Looking at me with such sorrow and anger in his eyes he proceeded, “Is it because he has money? I can find another line of work if that’s the case. Is that what I have to do?”

I think he could read the shock on my face as his eyes scanned my expression. I had never even considered what we were doing as anything more than just sex. I mean, we’d talked and laughed, but nothing more than that. He never asked me on a date. Never even showed any interest in me other than when we were under the cover of darkness.

I had always just assumed that he wasn’t interested in a more serious arrangement. I knew that no one else had ever been interested in me. I wasn’t what you would consider beautiful by any stretch of the word. I wasn’t a little, petite, perfect house-wife type. I was about 5’7’’, I towered over all my sisters. I also was fuller and rounder than any other women I knew. I did physical work at the farm, so I also had strong arms and legs that other women my age generally didn’t.

I was a farm girl through and through. I had made peace with the fact that I would never marry or have a family of my own. I was fine with that. The farm; the work, the animals, my parents, that was all I really needed.

All I could manage to say was “What?” I couldn’t process what he was saying. Was he confessing that he wanted to marry me?

“Tell me what I have to do.” Nick grabbed onto my shoulders as he moved so close to me that our noses were almost touching. He looked me in my eyes, pleading. “I love you, Lottie.” It felt like all the air was sucked out of my lungs. I suddenly couldn’t breathe, the cold winter air just floating out of reach of my lungs.

I felt bad for hurting him like this when I honestly had no idea he’d felt this way. Then it hit me. He didn’t really love me; he just didn’t want to lose me. Now I was starting to get angry. “Why now? You’ve had 10 months to tell me this. 10 months to tell me you wanted me as more than just someone who kept you occupied.” He just stayed silent without taking his eyes off mine. Eyes I had once found such comfort in now just looked desperate. “You’re ashamed of me. You’re embarrassed to let anyone know we’d be in a relationship. You don’t love me.” I pushed his hands off my shoulders and he let them rest at his side, still staring at me.

“Why hadn’t you ever asked me on a date? Taken me into town to watch a movie or walk through the park?” His silence was answer enough. Nick looked away, down at the ground. He knew I was right. He just didn’t want to admit it.

He took a deep breath and released it, the winter chill showing in a puff of foggy air on his exhale. He took my face in his hands, bent down and placed a feather light kiss on my lips. He pulled away, now with sadness in his eyes. “I just wanted to kiss you one last time. I do love you, no matter what you think.” He then pulled me in to an embrace so tight that if we were any closer we would have melded into one.

“Don’t let them change you, Lottie. You’re perfect just the way you are. I was just a fool to not notice it sooner.” I could hear the devastation in his voice. The realization that he might have real feelings for me. I hugged him a little tighter in return letting him know that I felt the same way. Wondering what could have transpired if I stayed. It was impossible to do now, no matter how much I might want to.

“I won’t.” I replied back, a little breathy, barely audible. I could feel the tears on the brim of my eyes.

There was a cough from behind Nick. We broke apart and I could see the tears running silently down his face. His brown eyes shone with wetness.

“What’s going on here?” my father’s gruff voice demanded. Nick angled his body between my father and me, ready for whatever was about to happen next. I slid my arm around Nick’s stomach and pushed him behind me to stop whatever chest puffing these two were going to do.

I looked at my father and replied, “Nothing. Just two friends saying their goodbyes a little early.” I could feel Nick seething behind me. Resenting my father for sending me away, forever. My father didn’t look convinced.

“I’ve got work to do.” Nick turned and walked away without looking back, leaving me alone with my suspicious father. He could always read me like a book. He just shook his head as he stepped closer. “Be careful. You’re promised to another man.” I shook my head in understanding. He just patted me on the shoulder twice before turning and walking back to the barn.

The rest of the week went by in a blur. One day blending into another. I wanted the week to be over with, with the tension so high in the house. Now I’m standing on the porch watching the lights of a car as they get closer. Like the lights were beckoning me into a bright, new future, full of hope and promise. All I felt though was dread and despair.

My mother released a sob that brought me back to the present. Her face was red and puffy from crying. I went to embrace her, her warm breath hitting the cold nipping at my cheek.

“Mama, I’m getting married, I’m not dead.” She pulled back from my embrace. I wiped the tears from her face.

“I know. It’s just not going to be the same around here without you.” She grabbed me in an even tighter embrace, I swear I heard a rib crack. “I promise to write to you all the time. And I’ll send pictures of the wedding.” That was exactly the wrong thing to say because Mama just started crying harder and ran into the house.

My father was now standing next to me as the car finally pulled up to the porch. He hugged me as he said “Oh, Charlotte.”

I hugged him back, answering “It’s okay Dad. I’ll be okay.” I tried to say the last part with confidence, trying to convince him and myself of its truth, but we both knew I might not be.

We broke the hug when we heard car doors open and close. Three men in suits stepped out and approached the porch, their steps crunching in the snow. One of the men strode up the porch steps and took hold of my luggage. I didn’t have much to pack. It was eye opening seeing my whole life fit into one suitcase and one carryall. I was told that I would be provided with a whole new wardrobe once I was in Chicago. I had sent my measurements with my father one day when he went into town, and he relayed those to my uncle. I was wholly embarrassed.

“We better get going Miss. Bradley.” The man who had picked up my luggage said as he quickly descended the steps, walking towards the car. I turned to my father, “I guess that’s my cue. I’ll write as soon as I get there. Tell Mama and the girls I love them.” With that, I took a deep breath and made my way to the awaiting car. One of the men in a suite opened my car door and shut it as soon as I was sitting in my seat. He walked around the back of the car, opened the driver’s side back door and sat next to me, shutting the door with a loud thud. This was it. There was no turning back. No stopping what was already put in motion. I watched as the lights of the farmhouse faded into the dark night.

This was just the start of the long 6-hour drive to Chicago. I had never spent more than an hour in a car before, let alone 6. The car was cramped as the 4 of us rode in silence. My heart was pounding so hard I couldn’t believe its thumping wasn’t filling the car. Judging by the way everyone was avoiding looking at me, it was a pretty safe bet that I was the only one who could hear it. The whoosh whoosh in my ears was deafening.

I started thinking of all the things I had heard in secretive whispers throughout the years about Uncle Lon. He was my Mama’s older brother by 5 years. She said that he was difficult as long as she could remember. It was always his way or no way. He was always right, even when he was completely wrong. One time he almost burned the house down when he was making soup on the stove and somehow turned it into my mama’s fault, and she had gotten punished.

Mama was also a dreamer in a family full of businessmen which didn’t bode well for her. She was the youngest with 3 older brothers who excelled in all things academic while her strengths were in the arts. Her father was a mean man, just for spite. He forbade her from pursuing anything even remotely artsy; painting, piano, singing. She was to marry a man of his choosing and be a perfect little housewife without complaint. When she met my father, it was love at first sight. It was a chance encounter and within a month of meeting they had secretly married. When her father found out he turned his back on her, cutting her off completely and said he would do the same to anyone else who tried to contact her.

Whenever Uncle Lon was brought up, she’d always mention how he was the spitting image of her father in looks and personality. I was essentially going to be walking into the lion’s den when I arrived in Chicago. Suddenly the 6-hour drive wasn’t sounding like it would be long enough. The knot in my stomach started getting tighter. My chest started to feel tighter. What the hell was I doing? Why would a high society man want to marry a farm girl who put her elbows on the table? I had plenty of time to dwell on that little fact. Was there something wrong with this guy that no other woman wanted to marry him? I guess he could be thinking the same thing about me.

I was ripped out of my thoughts by a booming voice to my left, “Your uncle wants to meet with you over breakfast to go over everything that will be happening the next few days. I suggest you try to get some sleep while we’re driving.” It didn’t sound like a suggestion. I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, but it seemed to elude me for the longest time. It felt like I had finally fallen asleep, and the car stopped in front of a tall, cast-iron gate.

The gate opened and the car proceeded to drive up a short driveway. The house in which the man next to me had referred was definitely a mansion. The sheer enormity of it was something I had never set eyes upon before. It was dark, but the house was illuminated with strategically placed lights that somehow made it even more foreboding, intimidating. The dark brick with creeping vines going in all directions encompassing the house.

My car door was opened by another man in a suite who looked like he was part of the group of guys who had driven me here. The three men in the car seemed to open their doors in sync with each other. Before I knew it, I was flanked on all sides by this quad of suit clad men as if I would take off running at any minute. As they were ushering me up the sidewalk the oversized mahogany front door opened. In the doorway stood a woman in her mid-50’s wearing a dark dress with a white apron. Once we had all entered the house, she closed the door and fell in step behind our group.

We walked through a grand open entrance room. There was a staircase on either side of the room leading upstairs. No time to stop and stare at the magnificence of this room as the men just plowed right through the house, knowing exactly where they were going. I was just hoping I could keep up because if I fell behind, I was sure I wouldn’t be able to find my way back with all the twists and turns we had taken. We finally ended up at the end of a long hallway after going down three different hallways and a flight of stairs. As we approached the only opened door the men stopped, turned around and were gone before I could even take a breath. It was just me and who I assumed was a maid from her attire.

“Miss Bradley, this is your room,” the woman said as she motioned for me to follow her. The room was white with light pink accents, very inviting, a contradiction to the outside of the house. The bed was at least 3 times larger than my bed on the farm. It was also covered in more pillows than I could ever want for a lifetime. The bedding was pink with white and yellow flowers adorning it.

“I hope this room is to your liking.” She seemed to be hesitant, waiting for my reaction. I just smiled at her, “It is absolutely perfect. Not what I was expecting at all.” It seemed she was able to relax with my answer.

“Oh?” was her response laced with confusion and maybe a little bit of surprise. “The outside and from what I’ve seen of the inside of the house just seems so cold and uninviting. This room is feminine and cozy.”

She now had a big smile on her aged face. “Mr. Fairbanks told me to decorate however I saw fit. I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s absolutely lovely.”

“Thank you, Miss Bradley.”

“It’s Lottie, please. And your name?”

“Claire.” After a short little tour showing me my bathroom suite and walk in closet, Claire showed herself out, promising to come wake me for breakfast which was in just 3 hours. I needed all the sleep I could get in order to prepare to go into the viper’s den.