“No, no,” I said. I hadn’t even realized I’d gone so silent. “You have your life to live any way you choose. I was lucky to have you share expenses this long. You have no reason to feel sorry.”
She rose. “You’re a very sweet person, Emma. I don’t mean to hurt you in any way, and I’m cheering for your success.”
My success, I thought. Suddenly, what I was doing seemed so fantastical, especially compared to what she was doing. Where would I be six years from now? How settled, how successful, how happy?
“Thank you,” I said. “I might have bitten off more than I can chew, as you Americans say.”
“Stay here much longer, and you’ll be saying and doing more American things than you dreamed.” The way she said it made it sound like a terrible danger, something infectious.
“I’m not leaving,” I said firmly. She nodded. “I once told someone that ‘failure’ wasn’t in my vocabulary. It still isn’t.”
She smiled. “One way or another, you’ll find satisfaction, I’m sure,” she said.
I thought it was quite the political thing to say, satisfaction. That could mean almost anything. She had found satisfaction in her romantic life and her job. I had neither yet and wondered if one would overtake the other. I could end up becoming a professional waitress like Marge. That might be all that came out of my coming to America. I could have been that back home.
“Oh,” she said, turning back on her way to her bedroom. “I’m leaving one hundred dollars to cover any utility bills for the month. It’s run about that for everything. Is that okay?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Someday in the near future, I’ll let you know our wedding date. Love you to attend,” she said.
“Me, too.”
“ ’Night.”
“Good night, Clara, and once again, congratulations on all the wonderful things happening in your life.”
She smiled and went into her room.
I sat there for a while. I wasn’t sure if I was more exhausted or more stunned. Despite how long I had been here, whenever I turned a street corner in New York, I anticipated some surprise. Were there more of them here than in any other city? There were certainly way more than there were back in Guildford. Was I a small-town girl after all? Had I put on a pair of shoes too big?
More than once, I had dreamed the same nightmare. I was going home, desperate and defeated, and when I got to the door, my father opened it before I could and stood there looking out at me with an expression of cold satisfaction, that biting wry smile of his.
“You can come in,” he would say, “but you will be who I said you would be and nothing else, nothing more. No more pipe dreams. No more balloons.”
Behind me, the tinkle of the piano at the Three Bears stopped. The silence was like a crown of thorns. He stepped back, and I entered, my head low, cowering like a frightened child.
I anticipated a repeat of the dream this evening, but I think I was simply too tired to dream. Clara was already gone by the time I had awoken in the morning. She often was, but the silence this morning was sharper, pounding in the reality. I rose, dressed, and had some breakfast even though I had no appetite. I didn’t have to leave yet, but suddenly, I couldn’t stand being there. Keeping an apartment was always going to be a burden, a lead chain around my neck, demanding and sucking up all my energy and meager finances. I never foresaw how much of a slave to rent I’d be in New York City. My father’s smiling I told you so face was flashing on every wall, even the windows.
On my way out of the apartment building, I stopped to inform Mr. Abbot about Clara’s engagement and departure.
“So you’re at it again,” he said. “Come in. Let’s have a chat. I don’t admit it much, but I often have what you call a cuppa.”
I was hesitant. In my heart of hearts, I was afraid of the older, wiser man’s or woman’s advice right now. I didn’t want to hear logic and good reasoning. The conclusion would be obvious. This is too hard for you. You’re all alone in the world here. You’re trying to climb a mountain barefoot. Rethink what you are doing.
“Thank you, Leo, but I have to get to work. I’ll have Mr. Manning post a new advertisement for someone to