A Woman of Independent Means Read online

You are the first mortal to receive a letter from the kingdom of the clouds, but all of us have been watching you in your bed in the hospital and we wanted to tell you how brave and strong we think you are.

  The doll that brought this letter is the kind our children play with here in the clouds. Her eyes are as blue as the sky, her hair shines like the sun, and her dress is the color of sunset.

  We know you have to lie very still all day, and all you can see from your window is the sky. But the sky is our world and more interesting than anyone on earth can imagine. Look closely and you will see us hiding among the stars and sleeping on the clouds. And we will look down at the earth and tell you all the funny things the other mortals are doing.

  Love and kisses,

  The Cloud Fairy

  November 10, 1916

  Dallas

  Mrs. Martin Banks

  Secretary

  The Shakespeare Club

  Dallas, Texas

  Dear Exa,

  It is with great regret that I am requesting an indefinite leave of absence, but since Eleanor’s accident my life has been confined to my home and her hospital room. And will be for as far into the future as I dare look.

  She is so brave it breaks my heart. Fortunately she is too young to have any real concept of time. Her calendar goes from Christmas to Easter to her birthday. The months between mean nothing to her, so when the doctor tells her she will be home by Easter and able to walk again by her birthday, that forecast does not fill her with the despair it does me.

  Sitting here in the hospital room, I have reread all my favorite passages from Shakespeare but have found little to console me. Even Lear in his grief did not begin to express the emotions that have besieged me since the accident. I do not believe Shakespeare ever had the experience of seeing a child of his suffer as I have.

  Please convey my appreciation to all those who approved my name for membership and my regret at having to relinquish temporarily one of the highest honors of my life, but my family has always held first claim on my time and now there is time for nothing else.

  Sincerely,

  Bess Steed

  le 20 novembre 1916

  Dallas

  Mlle. Helene Girard

  Paris Millinery

  4608 Oak Lawn

  Dallas, Texas

  Ma chère Mademoiselle,

  Je regrette beaucoup de ne pas continuer les après-midis français si agréables que nous avons passés les derniers trois ans, mais maintenant il faut que je sois à l’hôpital avec ma petite Eleanor tous les jours.

  A ce moment-ci, je ne peux pas dire quand je pourrai les recommencer. Pour la première fois de ma vie, l’avenir m’effraye.

  Je vous remercie encore des jolies fleurs que vous avez envoyées à l’hôpital. Depuis le 5 août, cette chambre est devenue le monde pour moi, et les fleurs sont des souvenirs d’un monde plus beau.

  Avec mes sentiments les plus affectueux,

  Bess Steed

  December 30, 1916

  Dallas

  Dear Mr. Fineman,

  It was very kind of you to remember us at this holiday season. The smoked turkey was enjoyed by everyone, as were the Corsicana fruitcakes.

  Eleanor loved the basket of toy kittens. I hope they will assuage her disappointment when she comes home and finds her own kittens almost grown. Like all of us, she expects nothing to change in her absence.

  I appreciate your tact in sending the gift instead of bringing it in person. No human being is associated with the accident in Eleanor’s mind. The only culprit is a car, so she does not expect anyone to make amends. She considers the toy kittens simply a gift from a friend. As do I.

  I was sorry to hear of your recent illness. Fortunately I have stayed in good health all fall—perhaps because I had no choice.

  Eleanor has accepted her long convalescence with amazing cheer-fulness. I read aloud to her for hours at a time, and together we retreat into a myriad of imagined worlds more pleasant than our own. Every morning when she wakes up, there is a letter from the Cloud Fairy on her pillow and a present beside it. I know now, looking back on the first frightening days following the accident, that I created a living kingdom in the clouds so she would know there were other worlds open to her if this one were suddenly closed. Or perhaps I was simply trying to sustain that illusion in my own heart.

  Thank you again for your thoughtful gifts—and best wishes for the coming year.

  Sincerely,

  Bess Steed

  February 16, 1917

  Dallas

  Dear Papa and Mavis,

  The children were enchanted with the Valentine gifts you sent them. My Valentine present from Rob was waiting in the driveway when I woke up. An automobile of my own. A year ago I would have been thrilled, but today I was terrified at the prospect of driving such a dangerous machine. Ever since Eleanor’s accident I have looked upon the invention with horror. But Rob says that is the proper attitude with which to approach an automobile. A year ago I would have treated it as an exciting toy. Now I know better.

  Rob took me for my first driving lesson this afternoon. He says I did very well. However I felt the machine was my master instead of the other way around, a situation I plan to remedy by constant practice.

  None of my friends knows how to drive and none of their husbands would allow them to try, much less buy them a car of their own and insist they learn to use it. But Rob is spending more and more of his time traveling, and he does not like to think of my sitting helplessly at home. I am constantly amazed at the independence he not only allows but encourages in me. We grew up as friends and equals and, unlike many other couples I know, marriage has not lessened our mutual respect.

  Lovingly,

  Bess

  March 24, 1917

  The Clouds

  Darling Eleanor,

  We all looked down and waved good-bye as you left the hospital today. What a brave soldier you have been these long months—as brave as the little tin soldier who brings you this note. Were you surprised to find a note from the Clouds waiting for you in your room at home? You will not be hearing from us as often as you did at the hospital. Soon you’ll be up and about, running and playing, with no time for lying on your back and looking at the clouds, but we will always be here watching over you. And whenever the days on earth seem long and difficult, look up at the sky and think of the fun we’re having here.

  Love and kisses,

  The Cloud Fairy

  March 25, 1917

  Dallas

  Dear Mr. Fineman,

  Eleanor had a joyous homecoming—and her happiness reached a peak when she saw the adorable Siamese kittens you sent to welcome her home. She still moves with great difficulty and pain, requiring several hours of rest for each hour of exertion, but when she lies down the kittens lie beside her and frolic on the bed, a source of endless delight and amusement to her. Anything that amuses her and keeps her still is a gift to me as well; my imagination has been severely depleted by the hours of storytelling at the hospital.

  I am sorry your illness made it impossible for you to continue driving your car. But instead of selling it, why not encourage your wife to learn to drive? My husband bought me an automobile of my own last month and though I was terrified the first time I took the wheel, I now find the experience quite exhilarating. I of course proceed with the utmost caution and plan my routes carefully in advance to avoid left-hand turns. But as long as I am not in a hurry, I find I can reach any destination by turning right.

  Best wishes to you and your wife for the holiday season ahead. I approach this Easter with a full heart. Having my daughter at home again, seeing her regain the use of her arms and legs, however slowly and painfully, I feel I have experienced the meaning of the Resurrection for the first time in my life. However, if I were of your faith, I would find equal significance in this Passover season, for truly the Angel of Death passed over our house this year. This Sunday I will sing “Hallelujah” with all my heart to
the God of us all.

  Sincerely,

  Bess Steed

  April 15, 1917

  Dallas

  Dear Papa and Mavis,

  Today I brought my suitcases down from the attic where they have been stored for the last four years. When I returned from Europe, I thought travel had become part of the pattern of my life, but now I know there is no pattern to any of our lives—or if there is, it is much too terrifying to contemplate.

  I am so excited at the prospect of a trip to New York City with Rob—and grateful that the two of you will be able to stay with the children. Of course Mother Steed is here and the children adore her, but the idea of accepting responsibility for any living thing overwhelms her. She even refuses to keep a plant in her room for fear it will die and be her fault.

  Annie has now become an American citizen and therefore finds domestic service increasingly distasteful. She and Hans moved out of the servants’ quarters over our garage last month and into a sweet little house of their own. Annie is having a baby in August—their first child—but has promised to work for us until mid-summer.

  Of course our dear Mrs. McCullough will be here with the children. She is devoted to them and they to her. They never tire of her Scottish tales and I must admit to occasional eavesdropping myself. Her son is doing very well at the country club. He has taught the game of golf to most of the prominent businessmen in the city. Rob took a few lessons but rarely has time to play. However my game continues to improve.

  Lydia brings little Marian over every day for a visit. It is only in recent months that I have come to appreciate my sister-in-law. She plays the piano for the children and makes up little songs and dances to encourage Eleanor to do her exercises. Eleanor is moving much better now, but she has had to go through the experience of learning to walk all over again. It breaks my heart to see her fall, then bravely get up and begin again.

  I must get back to my packing. I am using the guest room as a center of operations. There are clothes everywhere. What are women wearing in New York City this year? My head is in a whirl.

  Love to you both,

  Bess

  April 20, 1917

  Dallas

  Mrs. Dwight Davis

  33 Stonybrook

  Westport, Connecticut

  Dear Totsie,

  How wonderful it will be to see you again—and to meet the man you talked about night and day the whole year we roomed together. Was it just eight years ago? I feel I have lived a lifetime since then. It is my conviction that the woman I am at twenty-six is the woman I will be for the rest of my life, but the girl I was at eighteen is gone forever. Or is she? I suppose I should leave it for you to decide.

  I am anticipating this trip with such pleasure. Rob and I have had so little time together in recent years. It is ironic that the very ties that bind a husband and wife in theory—home and family—often serve to separate them in fact. Rob is no longer the man I married any more than I am the girl you remember, but I am not always sure who he has become.

  When we were first married, I was perhaps more ambitious for him than he was for himself. But now he never stops looking for new opportunities for investment, and unfortunately they always seem to require large investments of time and energy as well as money. There are men in this part of the country building empires and I feel my husband will be one of them. There was a day when I could account for every penny he earned. Now, except for my household allowance, which has always been extravagant, I have no idea how much money he makes or where it goes.

  I always thought marriage meant the merging of two lives into one—but the only mergers that really capture Rob’s imagination are ones that show a growth and profit potential. Our bodies continue to share the same space, but our souls are becoming strangers.

  I didn’t know until I started writing this letter just how much I had missed you all these years. Remember how we used to fall asleep talking? Well, I am doing it again. It is 3 A.M. and I still have so much to tell you, but it will have to wait till I see you.

  Je t’embrasse,

  Bess

  April 17, 1917

  Dallas

  Miss Josephine Farrow

  2514 Elm Street

  Syracuse, New York

  Dear Cousin Josie,

  Although we have never met, I have heard my father speak of you so often I trust it will not seem improper for me to address you as familiarly as he does.

  My husband and I are traveling to New York City on May 4 for a two-week stay, and I would like very much to take a train to Syracuse one day to see you. My father has spoken so often of the kindness your mother and father showed him as a boy. I don’t think he ever quite recovered from the loss of his mother at the age of eight, but his pain was eased by the loving way he was included in the life of your family.

  Twice now my father has suffered the untimely loss of the most important woman in his life—first his mother, then his wife—which may explain why he chose someone so young when he remarried. Whatever else he expects from her, I feel certain he is counting on her to outlive him.

  He has been very concerned about your recent illness. I have no wish to impose, but since I do not know when I will be coming east again, I would not want to miss the opportunity to meet you and get to know more about my father’s side of the family.

  Best regards,

  Bess Steed

  May 10, 1917

  The Waldorf

  New York City

  Dear Papa and Mavis,

  I spent yesterday with Cousin Josie at her home in Syracuse. She is very weak and coughs a great deal. She no longer receives any visitors but was kind enough to see me since I had come so far. I don’t know how she would have managed without your support all these years, Papa. Her only other relative is a niece, who married and moved to another town. She writes occasionally but provides nothing in the way of financial aid.

  I was distressed to learn that Cousin Josie has never made a will. She has no money, of course, but her home is filled with priceless antiques, which belonged to her parents and by rights should go to you when she dies. However, a court, unaware of your generous support, might designate her niece as legal heir.

  Rob and I are thoroughly enjoying all that New York City has to offer. If it were not for the children, I could stay indefinitely.

  The train trip was like a honeymoon for us—two days uninterrupted by business or family. I expect it will soon be feasible to cross the country by air, and, however happy a prospect that may be for some people, how sad it will be for women like me, married to men who will always choose the fastest means of transportation available.

  Rob reserved a luxurious suite for us here. Unlike many of his associates, he enjoys spending money as much as making it, an attitude I share completely.

  I have become completely stagestruck on this trip, seeing more plays in the past week than in my whole life until now. And what radiant performances! I will always treasure Ina Claire in Polly with a Past and Fay Bainter in The Willow Tree. I also love the way we live here—we go to the theater every night and dine afterward. There is nothing like champagne to ensure sweet dreams.

  Rob is so quick to act on my slightest whim. I am as spoiled as a woman as I was as a child. And not only enjoy it but have come to expect it. There are those who would shake their heads in disapproval. But in my experience the most loving and generous people are those who have been loved. Having been given everything I wanted as a child and now as a wife, I live only to do the same for my family and friends. I am convinced that if every child in the world were spoiled, there would soon be an end to war and crime.

  I hope you are enjoying your stay at our house and the children are not taxing your affection.

  Much love,

  Bess

  May 12, 1917

  The Waldorf

  New York City

  My precious angels,

  Your father and I miss you very much and I hope the next time we come to New
York City all of you will be with us. But we will be bringing quite a bit of the city home with us. Just wait till you see the treasures I have packed in my trunk. I spent all yesterday afternoon in the most wonderful toy store I have ever seen. I have heard people speak of the lack of manners in this part of the country, but I have been treated with the utmost courtesy everywhere I go. The clerk at the toy store in particular seemed to take a personal interest in all of you and gave me much good advice in making my selections.

  How is your tunnel coming, Robin and Drew? Mother Steed is afraid you will be buried alive. She says she holds her breath from the time you disappear behind the rose bushes until you emerge again at the birdbath. Perhaps it would be best if you delayed further excavations until our return.

  Eleanor, my dumpling, I am delighted to hear of your progress. I live for the day I hold open my arms and you come running into them.

  A kiss and a hug for each

  of you,

  Mummy

  May 15, 1917

  The Waldorf

  New York City

  Dear Lydia,

  Rob and I have just returned from a weekend in Connecticut with my college roommate and her husband. As long as Totsie and I were just exchanging letters, we remained the best of friends. But our visit, instead of bringing us closer, has increased the distance between us.

  Perhaps it was our husbands that made us seem like strangers. The two men come from such different worlds. Her husband was sent to boarding school at an early age and though deprived of his family’s presence, their name was always ahead of him, opening every door. It incensed me to see that he considered himself superior to Rob, without having done anything to earn that distinction. I am determined to give my children all the advantages of wealth and position, if only to prove how meaningless they are. Then none of them will ever be made to feel as uncomfortable as Rob did all weekend.