Chapter 57 Cynthia
Cynthia
Seven springs later
She pulled the car to a stop in front of the hangar and reached across the leather seat for a large brown envelope.
As she pressed the car door shut behind her, Calvin appeared in the open hangar doorway, a small girl balanced on his hip.
Several planes filled the large building, just as Calvin had predicted they would.
Cynthia closed the distance between them and exchanged the envelope for the child.
“How was your visit? Did it put your mind at ease?” he asked.
“Indeed, it did. It felt good to be in the same room with them both.”
At the end of Cynthia’s first summer at the Maine Chance, Miss Arden had been so impressed by Iris’s performance that she had offered her the year-round housekeeper position.
Despite a dedicated exchange of letters between them throughout the year, every spring, she, Geraldine, and Iris got together at the earliest opportunity after Iris had returned from Arizona.
It had been more important that spring than ever.
Orla had passed away just after the turn of the new year, and Iris had taken it hard.
Geraldine had been concerned enough about her that a week or two after the funeral, she flew out to Arizona to get her eyes on Iris.
She ended up staying most of the rest of the winter, enjoying the climate, the change of scenery, and the creative spark that travel brought about.
In fact, Marjorie Billings, who despite her husband’s objections had eagerly agreed to represent Geraldine after her agent retired, had booked a new show in July to exhibit the flurry of paintings her trip had inspired.
But her news of her friends was not the only thing she wished to share.
“Look at what I picked up at the post office on my way to lunch,” she said. “Page three.”
Calvin lifted the flap on the envelope and slid out the latest issue of the American Economics Review.
She tried to interpret his expression as he read through the article.
Their daughter squirmed to be put down before he reached the end.
Cynthia bent and patted her small shoulder before she darted off in the direction of a robin pecking at a patch of fresh green grass pressed up against the white clapboards of the hangar.
He snapped the magazine open, the smile she loved so much spreading across his face.
“How does it feel to be interviewed in such an esteemed publication about your career?” he asked.
“It feels even better than seeing my byline in the magazine for the articles I’ve written.”
“What did Iris and Geraldine have to say?”
“Iris was, of course, thrilled that I mentioned getting my start at the Maine Chance. Geraldine, for obvious reasons, was delighted by the paragraph referencing U Maine.”
Calvin read aloud. “After being assured by a respected professor at Barlow College that women were a poor investment, Cynthia Proctor Willard, newly appointed economist for the Maine Commission on Tourism and Transportation, transferred to the University of Maine at Orono to complete her degree. This reporter wonders if her choice to transfer explains the generous, anonymous donation the university received to fund an endowment to support women pursuing a degree in economics.”
“Speaking of Professor Avery, I contacted the magazine and asked that they send him a copy. I wanted to be sure that he had one.”
“Did you send it anonymously?” Calvin asked, wrapping an arm across her shoulders.
“I had them add a card.”
“What did it say?” Calvin asked.
“Thanks for giving me the push I needed.
Sincerely,
A Clever Girl.”