Across a Crowded Room Page 2

  “What does Mother Berry want to see me about?” Bennie smoothed her skirt and straightened the seams of her hose.

  “She didn’t give me any details. Please let me know after you talk to her. I wonder if it’s about the belly dance. If we have to change that at the last minute, I don’t know what we’ll do.” Miss Dodie put her head in her hands.

  Bennie patted Miss Dodie’s arm.

  “Don’t worry. If it’s the belly dance, we’ll cover up the girls’ midriffs. It’s going to go well. I’ll go see what Mother Berry wants and let you know if you need to get fitted for your blue Bloomingdale’s smock.” She stepped around Miss Dodie and hurried up the aisle.

  “Don’t joke about this, Mrs. Grant. It’s serious,” Miss Dodie called after her.

  “We’ll just have to manage whatever Mother Berry’s concerned about.”

  Bennie pushed through the doors, crossed the lobby and took a deep breath before stepping into the cold wind blowing across campus.

  Bennie climbed the wide stone steps of Old Main, the school’s original building. Deep grooves were worn into the steps from generations of girls’ hurrying feet. When Bennie attended school here, classes were still held in the old building, but it had since been restored to house administrative offices and the Board meeting room. Mother Berry’s apartment was on the top floor.

  Bennie took the stairs, avoiding the unreliable, creaky old elevator. At the door of the headmistress’ apartment, Bennie hesitated, marshalling her arguments for leaving the belly dance in as planned. As she raised her hand to knock, the door jerked open, startling both Bennie and Mother Berry.

  “Mrs. Grant, what are you doing out here? I was about to go and see if Miss Dodie had found you. Come in, this is urgent.” Mother Berry pulled Bennie into the small living room and guided her to an overstuffed chair.

  Entering the apartment was like stepping into a time warp. Bennie suspected that nothing had been updated since 1925 when Mother Berry came to Mary Bradford’s as a young widow and took the school on as her life’s preoccupation. She didn’t spend money on herself and, to the consternation of the faculty, she was unwilling to pay them what they considered they were worth. Mother Berry often preached that the opportunity of teaching at Mary Bradford should be compensation enough. Bennie never joined the other teachers in grousing about their pay. She was grateful to Mother Berry for taking her on in the middle of the term.

  “Mrs. Grant, the members of the Board of Trustees are coming to the Revel. We invite them every year, but it’s perfunctory and they’ve never shown up. I suspect our new board member is behind it. She says she wants to be much more involved, which is fine with me if she means being generous with her husband’s considerable fortune, and, of course, her own, too. She’s a successful interior designer in New York, you know.”

  Bennie looked around the parlor and smiled to herself, wondering what a successful designer would think of Mother Berry’s apartment.

  “And her husband is a Broadway producer. You’ll have that in common, given your interest in the stage. Anyway, she’s the first woman Board member, and the first alumna, of course. You and I both know that the school attracts simply the best and brightest girls from everywhere. Mary Bradford’s is the best, the best, the best, and some of our girls need financial help. Mrs. Clayborn can afford scholarships for hundreds of girls who otherwise would have no means for coming here."

  "Plus,” Mother Berry leaned toward Bennie, “we might get her interested in the improvements in the drama program that I know you’d love to see.” Mother Berry took off her glasses and tapped her lips with her finger. “Let me think.”

  Bennie could almost hear the flipping of index cards inside Mother Berry’s head where she stored information on potential donors.

  “She graduated from Mary Bradford’s several years before you were a student here. She would have been…” Mother Berry’s eyes lit up as she discovered the correct mental index card. “Class of ’32. And you were class of ’41.”

  “Exactly right, Mother Berry. You’re amazing. How can I help?” Bennie asked.

  “We’ll have a reception for the Board after the performance so they can meet you and Miss Dodie and the leading characters. I need the performance to go well.”

  “I understand how important this is, Mother Berry, and we won’t let you down. The girls are ready. Miss Dodie and I guarantee a success.”

  “I’m counting on you to make this year’s Revel the best, the best, the best.” Mother Berry rose and walked Bennie to the door.

  As Bennie hurried down the stairs of Old Main, she began planning how she and Helen, the student in charge of costumes, could cover the belly dancers’ midriffs in time for the performance.

  Chapter Three

  WEDNESDAY MORNING BENNIE PULLED the belt of her trench coat tight and pressed her back against the brick wall of the New Canaan train station, trying to stay out of the chilling wind that blew down the tracks. It was early and only a few commuters were boarding the train to Manhattan. Will had snorted on the phone when she insisted on taking the train in for the meeting with his lawyer rather than ride into the city with him. Even though taking the train would keep her away from her classes longer, Bennie couldn’t stand the thought of the hour-long ride each way alone with Will.

  She arrived at Grand Central Station and took the subway to lower Manhattan where the lawyer’s office was located on the top floor of a cement and glass high-rise office building. The receptionist showed Bennie to a conference room where Will and his attorney, Mr. Bell, were waiting. The two men rose to their feet as Bennie came through the door. The room smelled of the antique law books that lined the room on mahogany shelves, and the plush leather chairs placed around a comically massive conference table. Bennie thought the room was designed to communicate substance to the client and to intimidate the adversary. Mr. Bell indicated a chair to his left.

  Will held Bennie’s chair for her. “Hello, Bennie,” he said. He took his own seat, cleared his throat, and nodded to the attorney to indicate that he was ready to begin.

  Mr. Bell facilitated a civil discussion about how assets would be divided, should they decide to go ahead with the divorce. Bennie expected this discussion to go smoothly. Will was a fair man, and she was confident she could count on his generous, even lavish, support of their daughter. She didn’t expect any spousal support. She inherited her grandmother’s estate, and besides, she cared little for the lifestyle she gave up when she and Will separated.

  Will seemed aloof and almost bored as the lawyer went through a detailed plan for distribution of their joint assets. Then the attorney changed the course of the discussion.

  “Now, there’s the question of custody of your daughter,” he said.

  When Will’s eyes narrowed, a chill ran down Bennie’s back. Bennie thought that the tone of the discussion was about to change.

  “There are some questions I need answers to before coming to any agreement about that,” Will said as he sat straighter in his chair.

  Bennie clasped her hands in her lap. “What questions? What do you need to know?”

  “Where you will live, for example. And with whom?”

  Bennie glanced at the attorney, and, because of the look on his face, she suspected Will had told him about her affair with Alice.

  “You know I’ll provide a safe and stable place for Livie. What’s this about?” Bennie wanted to force Will to put things on the table.

  Will’s face flushed darker pink. “You know very well what it’s about. I want some assurances.”

  The lawyer put a hand on Will’s arm.

  “Let’s stop for today and take this up at our next meeting. That will give you more time to think about what’s best for the child,” he said.

  Will and Bennie rode the elevator down in uncomfortable silence. Outside, it had begun to snow and the street and sidewalk were dusted with a thin layer of powder. A Salvation Army volunteer smiled at Bennie and nodded, his bell ma
king a polite but insistent demand on her holiday spirit of charity. Bennie dropped a bill in the kettle. She expected Will to go on without her, but he stopped to fish several bills out of his wallet for the kettle, and then he turned to Bennie.

  “Let’s go someplace for a drink,” he said.

  Before she could reply, he took her arm.

  “I can’t. I have to get back to school. One of the other teachers is covering my classes.”

  He looked surprised and then annoyed. He hailed a cab.

  “We need to make some decisions. You need to decide what you want,” he said as he held the door open for her. Bennie hesitated. “You’re going to the train station, right?” he said. “I’ll ride with you.”

  “No need. I’ll take the subway,” she said.

  Will shook his head, waved the cab away, and set off down the street.

  Chapter Four

  BENNIE PEEKED THROUGH THE heavy velvet stage curtain at the stream of students, parents, and townspeople filling the aisles and seats of the auditorium. Mother Berry had reserved the front two rows for Board members and their wives. The Board members were dressed in almost identical three-piece business suits and their wives in fashionable but subdued frocks and hats and gloves.

  The thirty-piece orchestra was arranged in a semi-circle in front of the stage. Mr. Crump, the school’s music teacher, paced back and forth between the violins and cellos, stopping often to shuffle the score pages on his podium.

  When it appeared that everyone was settled, Miss Dodie gave Bennie the sign that all the actors were in their spots and ready for the curtain. As Bennie took a last peek at the audience before pulling the curtain, she saw a tall woman in a fur coat push through the auditorium doors and hesitate beside an empty seat in the last row. Mother Berry half rose and motioned to a seat in the front row and the woman rushed forward. Bennie thought this must be the famous new Board member, Mrs. Clayborn. Mr. Crump struck up the overture and the Revel began.

  For the next two hours the audience watched a story of court intrigue set in Elizabethan times. Would-be suitors fought duels to win the Queen’s hand. Between sword fights, dancers from faraway lands in skimpy costumes gyrated to the sounds of flutes and drums. Witches cast spells around a simulated bonfire. Wild applause from the audience interrupted the performance regularly.

  After the actors took three curtain calls, Miss Dodie collapsed in Bennie’s arms. “Thank God it’s over and none of the mistakes made a bit of difference. I swear we could throw up any drivel and no one would care. Now if we can get through this Board reception, I can relax for the first time since September.”

  “I thoroughly enjoyed it. I even shed a few tears. I’m so proud of the girls,” Bennie said as she began to gather up props.

  “Maybe I am better suited for Bloomingdale’s after all,” Miss Dodie said.

  Bennie and Miss Dodie walked across campus to Old Main to join the Board reception. Bennie paused at the top of the steps. “You go ahead. I’m going to catch my breath and enjoy the view for a minute.”

  She sat on the top step and looked across the school’s wooded thirty-acre campus. It sat on the highest point in New Canaan, with a view over the Connecticut River toward Long Island Sound. Bennie drew a deep breath and pushed herself up from the step, ready as she would ever be for her command performance. The massive doors leading into the Board room stood open for the reception. Four members of the orchestra, who had been recruited as a string quartet, were attempting Vivaldi but sounded worn out from their performance in the Revel. Conversation buzzed among the faculty and student cast members.

  Bennie paused at the doorway and surveyed the scene. A roaring fire reflected off the highly-polished hardwood floor. Several older men clustered in the center of the room, laughing at someone’s joke. Bennie recognized a few of them from the country club and various business functions she had attended with Will. Apart from the men, in a group of their own, expensively-dressed women Bennie supposed were the wives of the Board members, chatted. One lone woman stood in the middle of the circle of the Board members. She was the center of attention and appeared to be the one whose joke caused them to laugh. She wore a Chanel suit, and she held back the jacket with a hand on her waist. The woman seemed comfortable in the men’s presence, not the least bit deferential or flirtatious. Bennie thought she was magnificent.

  One of the Board members, a little younger than the rest, chuckled heartily and said, “Well, I, for one, am glad to have a woman’s point of view on the Board. We men know how to make the money, but you women know how to spend it. He laughed through the awkward silence that followed.

  The woman smiled at him.

  “I suppose the key for the school is to keep those two things in a healthy balance, and I’ll try to keep up my end of that equation,” she said.

  The other men smiled and nodded.

  Mother Berry rushed over to Bennie. “Here you are, dear. I was wondering where you had gotten off to. Come and speak to the Board members.” Mother Berry took Bennie’s elbow and instead of introducing her to the circle of men, she steered her directly toward the woman. “Mrs. Clayborn, this is Mrs. Grant, the director of our Revel and the drama teacher I was telling you about. She’s also the absolute backbone of our wonderful community theater in New Canaan. In her short time here at Mary Bradford’s, she has made our drama department the best, the best, the best, and she can do so much more with a few additional resources.”

  Bennie was embarrassed by Mother Berry’s brazen fund-raising pitch. She studied Mrs. Clayborn’s face for a negative reaction, but she smiled and nodded at Mother Berry.

  Mrs. Clayborn turned to Bennie with what appeared to be genuine interest and curiosity, extending her hand. “I’m Laura.”

  Up close, the woman’s features were too strong to be called classically beautiful. Her nose and mouth were slightly large, and her dark eyes a little close together, yet the whole effect was arresting. Touching the woman’s hand caused a rush of emotion that made Bennie’s head buzz and her heart skip a beat.

  “I’m Bennie,” she managed to say. Bennie realized she was still holding Laura’s hand. She dropped it and felt her cheeks flush. “I’m pleased to meet you. Mother Berry told me that the Board added a new member, a woman. I hope you enjoyed the Revel and thank you for coming.” Bennie felt her blush deepen as she rattled on.

  “I enjoyed it very much, Bennie. This is my first school event as a Board member, and I’m impressed.” Laura’s voice was a soft alto, with a hint of a Southern accent. “I’m especially impressed with how well it was put together, and that’s thanks to you, I imagine.”

  “Miss Dodie and myself. And of course, the girls played all the important roles, on the stage and with the production. Mother Berry mentioned you went to school here. You must have worked on the Revel too, in your day.”

  “‘In my day’ makes me sound ancient,” Laura said with a grimace.

  Bennie swallowed hard, afraid she had insulted her, but to her relief, Laura smiled.

  “We couldn’t avoid working on the Revel. I built sets, and senior year I was in charge of set design for a perfectly awful musical version of Romeo and Juliet.”

  Mother Berry was at the door welcoming a prosperous-looking couple. Bennie saw her glance across the room and nod, reminding Bennie of Mother Berry’s motive for introducing Laura to her—to fuel Laura’s interest in financial support for the school.

  “As Mother Berry told you, I’ve taken over teaching drama.” Bennie’s voice sounded awkward and overeager. “I mean to say, I would appreciate any advice you or your husband might have about how to make the program better.”

  Laura smiled and nodded. “We do want to do our part to make sure Mary Bradford’s stays the best, the best, the best, to use Mother Berry’s mantra. Let’s meet sometime to talk about it in more detail. I’m in the city during the week but often in New Canaan on the weekends. Shall we have dinner sometime?”

  Before Bennie could respond,
Mother Berry interrupted to whisk Laura away to meet the couple who just arrived. Bennie assumed they were more potential donors. She wandered over to the refreshment table and ladled some day-glow-colored punch from a large, crystal bowl into a tiny cup, found the liquid too sweet to drink, and opted for coffee instead.

  She drifted over to encourage the string quartet and soon found herself surrounded by the girls who played leading parts in the Revel. They were high on adrenalin from the performance, chattering and vying for her attention, half-seriously lobbying for canceling class on Monday.

  Bennie watched Laura move around the room, introducing herself to teachers and students. Laura focused on each person she met, almost as though being interested was her job, which Bennie supposed, as a Board member, it was. When she had worked her way around the room, Laura gathered her coat and gloves and approached Mother Berry. She nodded several times in response to Mother Berry’s effusive thanks. Then she looked across the room, directly into Bennie’s eyes, smiled, waved goodbye, and was gone.

  Chapter Five

  MONDAY MORNING, BENNIE STRUGGLED to drag herself out of bed. Half asleep, she made her bed by rote and stumbled into her tiny bathroom for a shower. The private bath was the one civilized feature of her dorm mother room on the fourth floor of Ridley Hall. She lacked a private telephone and had to depend on the stuffy booth all the girls on her floor shared. It was tolerable since Bennie used it only to talk to Livie, and sometimes Alice. She had no other social life.

  There were three days left until school closed for the holidays. The dorm was noisy around the clock as the girls anticipated their trips home. Bennie had hardly slept since the Revel, but it was not just the girls’ fault. Laura Clayborn was another cause of Bennie’s insomnia.