“Where is this supposed hotel?” her mother asked as Father and Gary supported her on either side.
“Uncle Harrison said it was two blocks from the train. Easy walking.” Susanna motioned for the porter Gary had given up on securing.
A black man came to her immediately. “Yes, ma’am, how may I help you?”
“We’re the Ragsdale family, and I need to arrange for the delivery of our luggage. We are staying at the Grand Hotel. It’s new, and my family has come here to open it.”
“Yes, ma’am. We saw it bein’ built. Mighty fine place just over yonder.” He pointed to the northeast. There, clearly visible from the train station, was a large, white-washed two-story building with a huge sign that read Grand Hotel.
She studied it for a moment, then nodded. It looked just as Uncle Harrison had described. A regal, clean, and very welcoming sight.
She turned back to the porter and smiled. “Would you arrange for our things?” She reached into her purse, pulled out fifty cents, and handed it to him. “Have the baggageman bring them to the hotel’s front desk, please.”
He gave her a slight bow. “I’ll see to it.”
“Thank you.” She left him to manage the situation and caught up with her folks and brother. “The bags are handled and should be delivered shortly. There is the hotel.”
“I cannot live in a hotel as the wife of a . . . manager,” her mother declared. “The shame is too great.”
“Mother, we’ve already discussed this in Topeka, on the train, and now upon our arrival. The fact of the matter is that you have no choice. Now, let us at least go and see what the accommodations are like.” Susanna looked at her father. Sweat poured from his head and had already soaked the neckline of his shirt. None of them looked like anything special. Just a bedraggled crew of travelers who had lost their way.
Susanna led their parade, crossing Railroad Avenue at Zimmerman Street and then walking up to First Street. She raised her parasol for the short walk. The sun was merciless, and she knew she would burn to a crisp otherwise. Her fair skin had always freckled easily, much to her mother’s disgust. A proper lady simply did not have freckles.
She reached the hotel well ahead of the others and tried the door. It was locked, and Father had both sets of keys. By the time her family joined her, Mother was sobbing softly into her handkerchief, and Gary was itching to take off and explore.
“I just want to see what’s available. We’re going to need food no matter what.” He started to leave, and Susanna called him back.
“We’ll eat at the Harvey House once we get settled. Stay here and help when the bags come. We don’t know what to expect. There will be plenty of time to explore later.”
Gary pulled off his hat, giving an exaggerated sigh. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. “You aren’t happy unless you’re bossing me around.”
Susanna ignored him. “Father, the door is locked, and you have the only keys. I suggest you give me one set so that we each have one, since I’m going to be helping you keep the front desk.” She closed her parasol and gave him a smile.
“Of course. Of course.”
Father produced the two keys and handed one to her. He didn’t seem to know what to do with the other one. Susanna finally rolled her eyes and opened the door herself.
The smell of new paint wafted out the door as she walked inside. Everything was pristine and bright, painted in yellow with white trim. She made her way to the front desk. Uncle Harrison had told them they’d find the family living quarters behind it.
She tried the door to the right and found a closet with supplies and bedding. The door on the left, however, opened onto a living area.
“Here we are.” She looked around the room. There was ample space for two people, to be certain. Less for the four who had arrived.
“This will not do,” Mother declared. “There is only one large room that combines everything. We would have to have the cook in here, working in the kitchen, while we tried our best to relax . . . or worse, entertain.”
“Mother, I do not believe we have the budget either for a cook or to entertain.” Susanna knew this change of financial solvency had wounded her mother dearly. Gladys Ragsdale had always believed herself to be upper society, and the fact that her husband had lost all of their money was something she could not reconcile.
“You are determined to kill me.” Her mother collapsed onto a cushioned chair. “This isn’t even comfortable, and this town is in the middle of nowhere. It feels like a furnace in here.”
“I’m sure once we get things organized,” Susanna’s father began, “it will be better. The nights will cool off surprisingly fast. Everyone says so.”
Mother’s disgruntled huff suggested otherwise. “We don’t even have electricity.”
“But they are putting it in very soon.”
“There are two bedrooms in the back,” Gary announced. “They’re very small. Both have two little beds.”
“I told Uncle I would pay for a separate hotel room, but he wouldn’t hear of it.” Susanna began taking off her black gloves. “I’m to have room 101.”
“A room to yourself? How very spoiled.” Her mother’s tone was accusing.
“I suppose you and I could share one of these bedrooms and Father and Gary the other, but it’s hardly appropriate for Gary and me to share a room at our age.” Susanna wondered what her mother would say to that idea.
She didn’t have long to wait.
“This is uncalled for, Herbert. We cannot live this way. I won’t live this way!”
“And where will you go?” Father asked, finally reaching the end of his patience.
Everyone looked at Mother, which only increased her discomfort. She burst into tears and made a dash for one of the bedrooms.
“Oh, look, we have a private bath,” Gary announced, opening the final door.
“Yes, Uncle Harrison said there would be one,” Susanna replied. She set her purse and gloves aside and began to unpin her hat. With that accomplished, she put it with her other things and went to the windows. “We need to open these and get a bit of air in here. That’s bound to help our moods.”
The baggageman arrived, and Gary hurried off to help with that. Susanna raised the first window and moved on to the next.
“Your mother is very upset, and I cannot blame her,” Father said. “She had the best of everything in Topeka.”
“And perhaps one day she’ll have the best of everything again,” Susanna declared. “For now, however, we must be patient and work hard. She has never had to do that, and it will not come easy to her.”
Her father shook his head. “I was so sure of that investment. If I hadn’t been, I never would have risked the house and everything else. You must understand. It was a sure thing.”
Susanna straightened. “What I understand is that it wasn’t a sure thing. Had it been, you wouldn’t have lost everything and be standing here now in San Marcial, New Mexico.”
“No, that’s for sure. Your mother is right—it is a godforsaken place.”
“I don’t think so.”
Susanna moved on to the next window as Gary carried in the first three bags. They all belonged to her parents, as would most of the next ten. Mother had crammed as much of their Topeka life into those cases as she could, knowing that everything else would have to be sold to cover their embarrassing losses. Thankfully, Uncle Harrison was handling the sale of their things so that Mother needn’t be completely covered in shame.