36. Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Four
September 1939
E veryone was gathered around the radio in the corner of the parlor. Lenore and Alistair had turned the sofa around and pulled over some chairs. Britain had declared war on Germany, and they all feared what that might mean for the United States.
Not much had changed since Alistair joined them, except that what had started out as a temporary situation was now permanent, and he was now a paying lodger. Lenore suspected that his decision to stay had something to do with Harriet. Or everything. Even Hilda commented on it from time to time. But neither went down the road of speculation or conjecture, not wanting to jinx it.
The money helped immensely. The bills were paid, and in return, Lenore made sure her lodgers had good food for breakfast and dinner and a clean, comfortable home .
Johnny, now five, had started school in September. He was gone all day and Lenore missed him terribly.
“Will the United States be drawn into it?” Harriet asked. They all leaned forward in their chairs. Lenore reached out and turned the volume up slightly on the radio.
“Don’t be a fool,” Mrs. Mandelson said. “After the last war, they’ll never want to go through that again.”
Alistair rubbed his chin, appearing thoughtful. “I don’t know. Maybe not right away, but I fear it may be inevitable.”
Mrs. Mandelson scoffed at the idea and narrowed her eyes at Harriet. “Isn’t the name ‘Bauer’ of German origin?”
“It is.”
“Isn’t your surname German?” Hilda asked the librarian.
Mrs. Mandelson scowled. “That’s my late husband’s last name. I was a Smith before I got married.” She lifted her chin slightly.
Lenore was just about to guide the conversation onto another topic when Alistair spoke up.
“Harriet, didn’t you tell me that the Bauers have been in this country for over a hundred years?”
Harriet smiled warmly at Alistair. “That’s right. I did. And my mother’s people were of French origin.”
With this information, Mrs. Mandelson gave a little sniff .
“We’re all Americans here in this house,” Hilda said with a tone of finality that would allow no argument. Mrs. Mandelson went to say something, but Hilda fixed a withering stare on the librarian, who thought better of it and closed her mouth.
They sat, quiet and tense, listening to the news, but as soon as Lenore turned the radio off, everyone spoke at once, speculating on Britain and France’s chances against the Reich, and when —not if—the US would join the war.
Secretly, Lenore had to agree with Mrs. Mandelson. She hoped they’d never go to war. She was too young to remember the Great War, other than the sorrow surrounding her uncle’s death, which coated her impressions of that time period in a film of sadness. But they were still in the midst of the Depression. How long would they have to scrimp and make do with things? How long were they expected to operate under crisis conditions? Were there any good times in their future?
Sensing Lenore’s discomfort, Hilda said, “Let’s talk about something else.”
They all looked at Lenore, and it was Harriet who spoke first. She reached for a magazine off the table, flipping quickly through the pages. “I was thinking of cutting my hair and going for a style like this.” She passed the magazine to her left, to Hilda, who studied it and said, “It’s a very smart style. ”
Mrs. Mandelson looked at it and nodded slightly. “I suppose it would suit you.”
When it landed in Lenore’s lap, she said, “That’s lovely.”
Harriet had beautiful hair, long and thick, although it was rare to see it styled any other way than in a bun at the nape of her neck.
When the magazine landed in Alistair’s lap, he didn’t bother looking at the style, tossing the magazine onto the coffee table. “I think it would be a shame for you to cut your lovely hair.”
Harriet looked at him, her lips parting slightly. The air became awkward, and soon the conversation turned back to the topic of war.
The bleakness of the two colliding situations, economic depression and war, made Lenore weary, and she stood and announced she was going to bed. She’d already taken Johnny up earlier, before they sat down to listen to the radio.
Hilda eyed her sharply. “Do you feel all right?”
Lenore waved away her concern. “I feel fine.” She said her good-nights.
“But what about tea?” Mrs. Mandelson asked.
Lenore hesitated in the doorway, thinking she could do that one task before she headed up.
Hilda spoke up. “I’ll make the tea. Go on up, Lenore.”
“I can make the tea,” Harriet volunteered, jumping up.
Hilda smiled a thanks at her .
“I’ll help you, Harriet,” Alistair said, and he followed her off to the kitchen.
As Lenore headed up the staircase, her hand skimming the banister, she heard Mrs. Mandelson say to Hilda, “Do you think it’s safe to leave those two alone in the kitchen?”
“Did you want tea or not, Mrs. Mandelson?” was the reply from Hilda.