A Tangled Web Page 4

  Several hours later Darcy had to reverse her first notion that waitressing was fun. The training she had been told about began at once, and it was thorough. Darcy had never had to take orders or endure much discipline at home. Here everything was about obeying commands and toeing the mark. The trainees were instructed to watch everything the experienced waitresses did.

  The first morning, the head waitress in Topeka, Miss Nelson, who was in charge of training the new employees, informed them, “We put our girls on the job immediately. Not actually serving but beginning to learn. You’ll start in the lunchroom. You’ll have to observe everything, all the details—that’s the important thing which makes all the difference. You’ll soon get an idea of what is expected of a Harvey Girl.”

  What was expected was a full day of undivided attention. Harvey Girls did not hover over the customers but stood at a respectful distance, alert to fill whatever need anyone had. There was hardly time to worry about being homesick or fraternizing with members of the male staff or socializing with the customers. Darcy mentally rolled her eyes at such a suggestion. Her days were too busy with learning the system, and at night she was too weary to do anything but fall into bed, exhausted. There was so much to learn and absorb.

  Certain things were unique to the Harvey system and had to be done exactly. Each detail of serving had to be memorized so that it would be second nature in a restaurant filled with hungry customers. The cup code, for instance.

  The cup code had to become automatic. A cup upright in its saucer meant coffee; a cup turned upside down meant hot tea; a cup upside down and tilted against its saucer meant iced tea; one upside down and away from its saucer meant milk. Another variation: if the handle of the cup was pointed to six o’clock, it meant coffee; to high noon, black tea; three o’clock, green tea; nine o’clock, orange pekoe; if the cup was removed, it meant an order for milk.

  Food preparation was as precise for the kitchen staff as was the serving ritual for the waitresses. Everything had to be fresh. Orange juice had to be squeezed each morning, not made the night before and stored in a refrigerator. Ice cream was made with all the best and freshest ingredients, including eggs and cream. Fruits and vegetables, chickens, eggs were purchased locally. Harvey restaurants took enormous pride in the freshness of everything served. Huge bulk-storage refrigerators held salmon from San Francisco, celery from Michigan, honeydew, Persian melons, apples, pears, lemons, oranges from California, French cheese such as Camembert, Portuguese sardines, and Kansas beef.

  A Harvey Girl was always busy, even when not serving. Between rounds of train customers, she had to completely clean her station, “up to the standard.” That meant everything: tables cleared, used dishes and silverware carried away to be washed, her station left spotless and gleaming, ready to be set again for the next arrival of passengers.

  It seemed a hard, unrelenting pace. But Darcy refused to be discouraged. She wasn’t about to give up before she started. She reminded herself what the alternative might have been in Minersville. She had “set her hand to the plow,” and she had no intention of looking back. She was determined to become the best Harvey Girl possible.

  At last she successfully completed the thirty-day training period and was sent to Emporia to work.

  SEVEN

  OCTOBER 1903

  Upon Darcy’s arrival back in Emporia, the head waitress there, Miss Casey, told Darcy she was to replace Annie, who had been transferred to Santa Fe.

  Darcy felt a pang of alarm. She had counted on Bertie’s niece to help as she started her new job. Although the Harvey House training had been so thorough, she was still nervous. What if she couldn’t remember everything she’d learned or forgot one of the Harvey rules?

  Miss Casey gave her a requisition slip for additional uniforms and aprons, and the key to her room. “You’ll be staying with Clementine Miller, who’s been with us for nearly a year. I’m sure you’ll get along just fine. We start our new girls out in the lunchroom until they’re ready to serve in the dining room. You’ll begin tomorrow, six o’clock sharp.”

  Assuming a confidence she did not feel, Darcy bundled her baggage up the steps to the waitresses’ dormitory.

  She found her assigned room and had just raised her hand to knock at the door when it flew open. Startled, Darcy took a step back.

  Framed in the doorway was a rosy-cheeked young woman with reddish blond hair, a scattering of golden freckles over a turned-up nose, and the widest, friendliest grin Darcy had ever seen.

  “Hello! You must be my new roomie,” she greeted Darcy. “Annie moved out day before yesterday. Gone to New Mexico. Lucky girl! But the bed’s all made and the closet’s cleaned out, ready for you. I’m Clementine Miller. Call me Clemmie. Come on in.” She easily lifted Darcy’s suitcase and carried it inside, motioning for her to follow.

  Darcy picked up her valise and walked into the room they were to share. She took a good look at her roommate. Clemmie was a strong, healthy-looking young woman. Darcy recalled Miss Colby mentioning the fact that many of the Harvey Girls came from farm families, preferring the job to farm chores. Within the next few minutes Darcy learned this was true of Clementine. She told Darcy she had been born and raised on her family’s farm in Arkansas. She left to come west seeking adventure and romance.

  Clemmie dimpled. “So far, no romance. But I like it a whole lot more than feeding chickens, gathering eggs, milking the cows, and slopping the hogs. I wanted something different than what I’ve been doing since I was five or six.”

  As she talked, Clemmie helped Darcy put away her belongings in the large wardrobe, showed her the bureau that had been emptied for her, all the while giving her the rundown on the other girls working at this Harvey House. Darcy could tell right away that Clemmie did not have a mean bone in her body. She said nothing catty or detrimental about anyone she described.

  She was so warm and friendly, Darcy felt comfortable with her at once. Comfortable enough to confess, “I’m a little scared. Afraid I’ll make some awful mistake and get fired.”

  Clemmie brushed away that suggestion. “Don’t be. No need to be. All of us felt that way to begin with, but the other girls are really helpful and look out for the new ones. Someone will cover for you if you forget something. So don’t worry. Before long it’ll be easy as pie.”

  Never having been much at pie baking or managing a good crust, Darcy did not find that very reassuring. But Clemmie’s attitude was catching and Darcy began to feel better. As the two chatted, getting acquainted, Clemmie talked about her family and showed Darcy pictures of them, which she had lined up on a bookshelf over her bed.

  “Three brothers, Tom, Luke, Seth; two younger sisters, Edie and Mayme. They both want to be Harvey Girls when they grow up, like their big sister.” She winked. “When I go home, they put on a cap and apron and play at being Harvey Girls.” She paused. “I guess they did tell you we get railroad passes for vacations and visits home, didn’t they?”

  Darcy nodded, thinking that she would hardly take advantage of that. Not only was Willowdale a very long train trip from here, but her family would not approve of the fact that she was working as a waitress, not a teacher.

  “Of course, those of us that come from farm families get special leaves in spring and fall. To help with planting and harvesting. Mostly I help Mom do the cooking for all the extra help Pa hires.”

  She seemed about to ask Darcy about her family, when suddenly she looked at the clock on the bedside table and jumped. “I’d better scoot. We’re supposed to be at our stations a half hour before the train is scheduled in. So make yourself at home; help yourself to anything you see.” She made a sweeping gesture of the room. “The bathroom’s down the hall. You’ll have it to yourself during the dinner hour because we’ll all be gone serving. And if you want anything to read, I’ve got back issues of the Ladies’ Home Gazette. My mom sends it to me. I’m reading a serial—real scary, and romantic too.”

  As she talked, Clemmie tied on her starc
hed white apron, adjusted the collar of her black dress, and stuffed her riotous curls into a hair net. At the door she said, “See you later.” She went out, then popped her head back inside, saying, “I’m glad you’re here, Darcy. It’s going to be great having you as a roommate. Bye for now!” And with a wave she was gone.

  Almost right away the two became friends, and the longer they knew each other, the deeper and stronger the friendship grew. Clemmie was so natural, outgoing, and openhearted. In a matter of days she told Darcy everything there was to know about herself.

  Darcy met and liked the other girls too. There didn’t seem to be any competition among them, nor the jealousy she had sometimes encountered back in Willowdale among some of her girlfriends. Being pretty and popular had sometimes been a problem. Being Judge Roscoe’s niece had also been a liability. Among the Harvey Girls all that mattered was how well you did your work. That’s what earned you respect.

  She and Clemmie shared everything—laments about sore feet, complaints about cranky customers, as well as confidences. Clemmie had a great sense of humor, and laughter was the oil that made some of the rough times smooth. Darcy began to feel that Clemmie was the best friend she had ever made.

  Clemmie seemed to have no secrets. She was open and honest about everything. Even about her reasons for becoming a Harvey Girl. Much as she loved her family, she confessed that for her, anything had sounded better than remaining on the farm.

  It seemed easy and natural for Clemmie to tell Darcy anything. It made Darcy feel somewhat guilty not to be that forthcoming. Eventually she did tell Clemmie about breaking her engagement and why. However, one thing Darcy could not bring herself to tell Clemmie was that she was hiding her job from her family. She knew Clemmie would not understand how they would feel about her working as a waitress. Especially since Clemmie felt that becoming a Harvey Girl was a step up in the world.

  Clemmie and some of the other more experienced waitresses had rescued her a couple of times. Miss Casey too, with just a lift of her eyebrow or a barely noticeable hand gesture, signaled in time to keep her from making a huge mistake.

  Mixing up an order or forgetting the cup code and serving a diner tea instead of coffee, or switching a dessert choice to the wrong customer at the wrong table—none of these near-disasters were serious, and after recovering from her embarrassment, Darcy could even laugh about them.

  As the weeks passed Darcy grew better at her job. Actually, Darcy came to love her life as a Harvey Girl. The more proficient she became, the more she enjoyed it. She still sometimes had the feeling she was acting a part on the stage. Being a Harvey Girl was so drastically different from her life in Willowdale or from anything she had ever imagined before.

  She must have played her role very well, because after the first week in November she was awarded the prize for the most improved new waitress: a box of chocolates.

  She rushed upstairs to share it with her roommate.

  “You really deserve this more than me, Clemmie,” she said as she opened the box and held it out for her to choose a piece. “You’re the one who has helped me, teaching me all the special tricks and coaching me.”

  “Oh, go on! You’ve caught on faster than a lot of new girls. Besides, I won a box last summer. It’s only fair to share the glory,” Clemmie said, grinning and taking a bite. “Mmm, caramel nut. My favorite.”

  Darcy helped herself to a piece, thinking of all the boxes of candy she’d received from beaux back home. This box meant more than any of those. This one she’d earned by her own hard work. That made all the difference.

  EIGHT

  Darcy never meant to deceive. It all started with the telegram she sent her family when she was on her way for her interview in Topeka. When she was immediately hired and started her training, she had no time to write an explanatory letter about her change of occupations. So she had sent a second telegram simply stating that she was working in Topeka, that another letter would follow.

  However, the letter that was to follow was put off for weeks. After she returned to Emporia as a full-fledged Harvey Girl, Darcy was kept busy in her new job. But not that busy. The real reason why she procrastinated was because she knew what her family’s reaction would be. Her mother would be horrified, Auntie Sadie shocked, and most of all, Aunt Maude and Uncle Henry would be mortified that a niece of theirs, someone in their social position, had stooped to the job of waitressing in what they thought of as the Wild West.

  Still, it had to be done. She could not put it off any longer. They’d be worried sick not to hear from her in so many weeks. So she finally made herself sit down and write this long postponed letter.

  Dearest Mama, Auntie Sadie, Aunt Maude, and Uncle Henry,

  When I arrived in Juniper Junction, I discovered that the teaching post I assumed I would have was already filled, the male teacher already settled in. The chairman of the school board was kind enough to recommend another position to me that remained unfilled.

  Here Darcy stopped writing, wondering how she would explain the drastic change of events and occupation. She’d always been good at composition in school, using her imagination sometimes to embellish facts and enhance her subject matter. Almost without thinking, Darcy put this talent to use. Dipping her pen in the inkwell, she began again.

  I find the new position very challenging and interesting.

  That was true enough. She didn’t need to outline the exact nature of her job, did she?

  I am rooming with a delightful girl, Clemmie Miller, who is most congenial, and we get along really well. She has lived here for nearly a year and is helping me get settled and introducing me to people.

  Darcy stopped again, wondering how to continue.

  She sings in the choir of a local church and has asked me to attend services with her next Sunday.

  There! That ought to please and satisfy every member of her family.

  You can write and mail me packages to general delivery here.

  Before signing and sealing the letter, she added,

  I know you will be relieved to know how well situated I am, how much I like my work, and that I have made good friends. I am not at all sorry about my decisions—any of them.

  That should take care of the Grady issue, Darcy thought as she continued writing.

  I believe this will be a wonderful learning experience and that this coming year will prove to be the best of my life so far. Please don’t worry about me. I assure you I am in very good health and happily enjoying my new surroundings, new friends. This is all a great adventure.

  As she addressed the envelope, Darcy prided herself that although she had skirted around the facts, given no exact details, there was nothing untrue about anything she had written.

  Then why did she still feel guilty? She closed her eyes for a minute, picturing the Beehive’s front porch shadowed by wisteria vines. There Grandma Bee and Darcy’s mother and aunts sat on rush-seated rockers in the long afternoons doing needlework, returning the deferential greetings of neighbors as they passed by. Afterward discussing each one, not always in complimentary terms. Aunt Maude in particular always had something to say about everyone. Their clothes, their husbands, their housekeeping, their cooking, their children, their position in Willowdale society. Darcy winced, remembering how she had listened and sometimes even joined in, making comments that were just as critical. It made her ashamed that she had used her wit in such ways. She realized she had changed since she left Willowdale, became a Harvey Girl. Here such gossip wouldn’t be tolerated. Here everyone was accepted equally.

  Her family had standards by which they measured everyone else. In their opinion most people fell short in one way or another. There was no question in Darcy’s mind as to how they would react to her being a waitress. She smiled at her imaginary picture of their exaggerated response to such news. “A waitress! What on earth can she be thinking?” Fainting spells requiring smelling salts, or a sick headache with cologne-soaked cloths applied to the forehead, would follow
! Maybe she was doing them all a kindness by not telling them. Protecting them from the flood of prestige-damaging gossip that would swirl around them if the truth were known.

  Besides, in a year’s time she would be home, and no one would be the worse for her fiction. She might be able to turn the whole episode into a humorous story.

  She mailed the letter feeling sure that her mother, aunts, and uncle would not only be glad to hear from her but also rest easy that she was safe and happy. That was the message she hoped would be passed on to Grady, to whom she had no intention of writing.

  Most of the time Darcy could live her daily life as a Harvey Girl without too much pricking of her conscience. The fact that she was keeping her employment as a waitress secret from her family bothered her only occasionally. Sometimes late at night when she was falling asleep, the thought would strike and she would come wide awake. She would cringe. Being exposed as a liar was her biggest fear. The longer she let it go, the harder it became to tell the truth. However, except for those times, Darcy found it easy to make excuses, justify what she’d done. Wasn’t she protecting her family from malicious or petty gossip?

  All these doubts and questions came sharply into focus one day when she was taking a break between the arrivals of trainloads of passengers. Darcy was curled up on her bed, reading one of Clemmie’s copies of the Ladies’ Home Gazette, when Clemmie came into their dormitory room.

  “Here’s your mail. I picked it up when I got mine,” she said, tossing Darcy a bunch of letters.

  When she was in Topeka in training, Darcy had sent a notice to the post office in Juniper Junction to forward her mail in care of Harvey House. She had sent a similar notice to reroute her mail to Emporia. This was the first batch of mail she had received from Willowdale.