Chapter 40 Cynthia
Cynthia
Last week of July
Cynthia carried her plate to the sink and stacked it with the other dirty dishes as Mrs. Dudley had indicated she should.
The meal might not have resembled those she had seen being carried into the dining room for the guests, but it was delicious nonetheless.
Although the dishes served were as different as could be, the produce, eggs, and milk were from the same source; the farm itself and the freshness of the ingredients made even the simplest of recipes taste divine.
Although Cynthia was definitely hungrier than usual on account of all the physical labor the job involved, she didn’t think that was all there was as to why the food tasted so good.
Mrs. Dudley was a whiz at cooking, especially desserts, and she had outdone herself that day with a blueberry cobbler.
Cynthia had spotted a pair of gardeners plucking the ripe, dusky berries from rows of tall bushes at the edges of the enormous vegetable garden early that morning.
A metal pail, still half-filled with berries, sat on the end of the table, waiting to be turned into something delicious.
As Cynthia turned back towards the center of the room to thank Mrs. Dudley for the meal, Iris appeared in the doorway.
“At your interview, you mentioned that you know how to drive, didn’t you?” Iris asked.
Whatever she had expected her boss to say, that was not it.
She nodded. “I got my license when I was still in high school.”
Iris thrust out a set of keys. “Since Calvin is otherwise engaged, I need you to head into town to collect an order from the pharmacy for one of the guests. We have an account there, so you can ask them to send me the bill.”
“Is there anything else you need while I am in town?”
“The guests’ chef told me this morning he could use a couple of boxes of rennet tablets to make junket for tomorrow,” Mrs. Dudley said.
Junket, a wobbly mass of milk, was not one of Cynthia’s favorite foods.
She couldn’t imagine how it rated as dessert, but she knew that it was something her mother had served with pride on more than one occasion to members of her bridge club when they held their meeting at the Proctors’ home.
No, the guests could keep their so-called fancy meals.
She was content with Mrs. Dudley’s home cooking.
“You should be able to pick up the rennet tablets at the pharmacy right along with the rest of the order. Please don’t dawdle, but there’s no need to take any risks behind the wheel.
Miss Arden is very particular about her automobiles, and it would not do for it to be damaged through recklessness. Do I make myself clear?” Iris asked.
“Absolutely. Where will I find the car?”
“It’s out in the stable with the rest of the vehicles.
” With that, Iris hurried off to attend to the long roster of duties Cynthia was sure she must keep running in her head at all times.
Cynthia had always known her mother to keep a similar list of tasks in order to be considered a successful and house-proud woman.
How much more onerous would such a list be for a place the size of the resort?
She waved goodbye to Mrs. Dudley after thanking her for the meal and slipped out the back door of the kitchen and off to the garage.
As she entered one of the wide doors leading into the building, she noticed a set of stairs at the back.
She fought down an urge to slip up the stairs to suss out any additional information about Calvin.
She held up the ring of keys Iris had given her and noticed a paper tag serving as a label.
Buick Skylark, it said in block printing.
She squinted into the gloom of the stables, with their small windows and the faint smell of horses still rising up from the floorboards.
The convertible sat in the farthest bay of the building, its top firmly latched into the open position.
She had not expected to enjoy the drive, but the idea of tooling along the road skirting the lake, with the wind in her hair and the sun beating down on her shoulders, promised to be an unexpected pleasure.
She paused to admire the pale-blue car, with its elegant fins and sleek, prowling look, before sliding behind the wheel and turning the key.
She was a good driver, and a confident one, and in only a moment, she was down the driveway and out onto the open road.
She arrived in town far more quickly than she would have preferred, considering how much she had enjoyed feeling the powerful thrum of the engine as she pressed on the gas.
She eased the nose of the car into a spot along Main Street, directly in front of the pharmacy.
She glanced through the store’s plate-glass window and spotted the gleaming taps and long counter of a soda fountain.
Several young men, whom she recognized as part of the group Pauline ran around with, sat on a row of stools at the counter, toying with straws tucked into tall glasses filled with a mixture of soda water, syrups, and ice cream.
Glenn, sitting at the center of the group, spun his stool slightly towards the door as she entered, but she ducked behind a display of glossy magazines and hoped he had not spotted her.
She felt reluctant for him to see her in her work uniform.
She wasn’t embarrassed by her job, but she wasn’t eager to discuss it with him either.
She made her way along the row of stools and headed for the back wall, where a man in a white jacket stood grinding something in a mortar and pestle.
He looked up as she approached and nodded in greeting.
In a low voice, pitched with the expertise of someone who was used to discussing confidential matters with a steady stream of customers, he addressed her.
“Are you the young woman from the Maine Chance?” he asked.
“That’s right. Miss Hubbard sent me to collect an order for one of our guests,” she said. He nodded and reached out for a white paper bag. It was stapled shut, and Cynthia had the sudden urge to peek inside it.
“Will that be all?” he asked as he slid the sack towards her across the polished wooden counter.
“Do you carry rennet tablets as well?” she asked.
“Aisle three, about halfway down. I’ll put them on the resort’s account,” he said.
She thanked him and made her way along the far side of the store, keeping her distance from the young people assembled at the soda fountain.
There was no way she wanted to spend any of her hard-earned money on a beverage.
Nor did she want to be obligated to anyone else for having treated her.
Besides, Iris would expect her to return to work without delay.
But try as she might to be invisible, as she bent over a low shelf looking for the rennet tablets, a hand brushed across her neck before resting heavily on her shoulder. She straightened and turned.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Glenn said. He was taller than her by several inches, and she felt as though he were standing ever-so-slightly too close.
His hand had lingered on her shoulder even after she straightened up as well.
Still, he had been very nice to her from the moment she met him, and she could see no reason not to be friendly in return.
“I guess this explains why I haven’t seen you around lately. Pauline has been pretty cagey every time I asked about you.” He nodded towards her uniform.
Cynthia wasn’t quite sure how to answer.
It wasn’t the sort of thing Glenn would be likely to understand, considering he didn’t need to earn money himself.
In the short time she had known him, she had heard him mention several times that neither his father nor his grandfather had needed to work either.
They simply spent their time managing the family’s investments and serving on the board of directors for a variety of companies.
Telling someone like him that she had to work to earn tuition money for college would sound as though she were speaking a foreign language.
Still, she had told Pauline she could tell him whatever she thought best. It was probably more surprising it had taken her friend so long.
“There was a last-minute opening at the Maine Chance, and I was lucky enough to be hired,” Cynthia said. “That looks like a bit of a sunburn,” she said, pointing at the bridge of Glenn’s nose.
“I’ve been out on the lake every day, enjoying the sights. Although the beach hasn’t been anywhere near as beautiful without you and your bathing suit perched on it.”
Cynthia’s face flamed. The memory of her discomfort at sitting on a beach blanket while strangers roamed past and looked her up and down left her vaguely queasy. Everything about Glenn left her unsettled. From his forthright manner to his suggestive comments, she felt both flattered and wary.
“I’m sure that you’ve found plenty to keep yourself occupied in my absence,” she said, not sure if she would be sorrier for him to admit that he had or happier if he protested.
“I can see that you’ve made far more of an impression on me than I have on you. I insist that you give me the opportunity to correct that,” Glenn said. “Say you’ll come to the party I’m throwing tomorrow night. You’re not too busy for that, are you?”
With his big blue eyes and cajoling tone, he reminded her of a professor’s son for whom she had babysat during the school year. She had never found it easy to resist him.
“Where’s it being held?” she asked.
“At my family’s place,” Glenn said.
“Will Pauline be there?” she asked.
“She’s agreed to come, so I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t be there. The whole gang is invited. It wouldn’t be the same without you,” he said. “Pauline was saying just yesterday how much she’s missed you. You can even bring that guy you were with the last time I saw you, if you like.”
“What time?”
“Any time after six. Be sure to bring your bathing suit.” He winked at her, and Cynthia felt her cheeks grow even hotter.
It had been too long since she had seen Pauline.
And she missed her friend too. Dolores was good company and had gone out of her way to make Cynthia feel welcome, but it wasn’t the same sort of friendship.
She and Pauline had shared so many experiences, hopes, and secrets during their time as roommates and friends.
It had been strange to see so little of her over the past two months.
“I’ll be sure to be there,” Cynthia said.