“I should help Gary,” her father said, looking to Susanna as if she might correct him.
“Yes, I think that would be good, since most of the luggage belongs to you and Mother. You’ll need to give the baggageman a gratuity.”
Her father grumbled something, but Susanna couldn’t make it out.
By the time Susanna had all the windows open, Gary and Father had moved all of the bags into the living quarters except the two small bags and large trunk that belonged to Susanna. Those they’d left by the front desk.
“Should we unpack?” Father asked, seeming confused.
“No,” Susanna said. “It’s getting late. I think we should gather Mother and go for dinner. Getting some food in our stomachs will help us think more clearly. Then we can decide what to do first.”
It was easier said than done. Mother wanted no part in leaving the hotel, but at the same time, Susanna knew she was famished. They had enjoyed Harvey House food all along the railroad from Topeka. It had been the one thing with which Mother hadn’t found fault. Each table was elegantly set with fine linen and crystal. The men were made to wear suit jackets in the dining rooms, and the service was that of an elegant restaurant, even in the smallest Kansas town.
When they finally had Mother on her feet and willing to walk to the Harvey House, Susanna was ready to be done with all of them. Their selfishness and unwillingness to take responsibility for their own actions was more than she could bear. She knew they were more than a little embarrassed at their reduced status, but it was ridiculous to pretend it was all a mistake. Susanna’s father had been mismanaging his inheritance since it had been in his possession. He thought himself something of a grand entrepreneur—a financial baron who was able to turn pennies into dollars, lead into gold. But instead, all Susanna had seen was her father continually making poor choices that his brother had to cover and make good on. Now Uncle Harrison had put a stop to his protection and had given his brother an honest-to-goodness job running a hotel. It was quite the departure.
Susanna had no idea what had transpired between the brothers in discussion, but she knew her uncle had reached his limit of understanding and sympathy. He had called Susanna to a private meeting, where he talked to her at length about what had happened to her parents. Susanna had been living with her in-laws and knew very little. Her parents were never ones to discuss money.
News of her family’s crisis, however, was rapidly spreading all over town. Her father had heavily invested in a railroad that turned out to be nothing but paper and the imagination of a conman who was now long gone. Father had given everything and was left with nothing. Even the deed to the house had been sold. Uncle Harrison had tried to advise him, as had others, but Father wouldn’t listen, and perhaps that was the reason her uncle was ready to wash his hands of the entire matter.
Who could blame him? Since they’d been boys, her father had the reputation of listening to no one. He loved to find what he thought to be lucrative deals, and from time to time they actually worked out. Of course, this only encouraged him to seek out more arrangements, and usually those fell apart. Still, he maintained a reputation of being a man capable of great risk.
Seated in the Harvey House, Susanna was relieved to feel that the temperatures were a bit cooler. She placed her order for iced tea and baked chicken and marveled at the efficiency of the Harvey House waitresses in their crisp uniforms of black and white.
It wasn’t long before the table was filled with plates of steaming food and iced drinks. Gary dug right in to his heaping pile of potatoes and gravy. Mother gave a sniff. She sampled the tea and seemed to find it acceptable. And why not? As Susanna understood it, the coffee and tea were made from water that had been tanked in from Kansas City. Every Harvey House along the line made their coffee and tea this way so that no matter where a traveler happened upon the line, they would have the same quality and delicious taste.
Susanna felt the tension in her neck begin to ease as she thought of the possibility of a bath and a long sleep. She had been so busy the last two weeks, helping her family get ready for this move, and it seemed she hadn’t had a moment to herself. The last year had been hard. Losing Mark to influenza was ever at the forefront of her thoughts. They had been the best of friends since grade school. Now he was gone, and while Susanna felt that she’d dealt with the first impositions of that loss, she was uncertain about her next stage of life. Mark had insisted she remarry, and she had promised him she would, even knowing she never could. The hole left in her heart wasn’t likely to be filled by another man, and if it wasn’t to be filled, then why bother to marry at all? Still, she felt a sense of guilt, knowing she had given him her word.
“This beef is delicious,” her father declared. “This man Harvey knows what he’s doing when it comes to food. I wonder if he’s ever thought about expanding to other train lines. It seems foolish to stay with just the Santa Fe.”
Many of her father’s ventures had started with less, and Susanna moved the conversation to something else. “Do you recall when the first reservations at the hotel are slated to begin?”
Her father looked up and shook his head. “I can’t say that I do. Harrison wrote it all in the paperwork. I shall have to sit down with the books and papers and study them.”
“Well, I believe you said the first reservations were to begin Monday. That gives us just two days to make certain everything is in order.” Susanna cut into her chicken. It looked perfect.
“Two days to get that place into shape for a grand opening hardly seems enough time,” her mother said, lifting her chin defiantly. “I don’t see how we can be expected to manage. We’ll need to hire workers.”
“Mother, we are the workers.”
The older woman began tearing up again and dabbed her eyes with her linen napkin.
Susanna shook her head. “But we will be working together. Tomorrow is Saturday, and we will be able to divide up the work and see what is left to be done. It appears everything is in order. We shall have to make the beds and perhaps scout out some fresh flowers. I like the little arrangements they have here in the Harvey House. Perhaps we can ask where they’ve acquired them.”
Mother turned to her husband. “This is so unfair. Herbert, I cannot live in a hotel. I’m sorry. I simply cannot.”
“What do you suggest I do, my dear?” Father said with a sigh.
She straightened. “Buy me a house. At the very least, rent me one. I shall be completely at peace if you just manage that.”
Susanna’s father looked at his wife and then back to his plate. “I’ll do what I can, dear.”
Herbert Ragsdale knew there was very little he could do to please his wife. She had already threatened to leave him for the comfort of friends. The entire situation was a mistake, and he’d made certain she knew that. Harrison was merely trying to impose his will on them, as he and Father had always done where Herbert was concerned. Surely this was all just a grand joke on Harrison’s part to teach Herbert yet another lesson that he somehow believed had been missed.
Pushing a slice of the Harvey House’s famous pie around his plate, Herbert found it difficult to look his family in the eye. Because what if it wasn’t a grand scheme? What if he’d truly lost everything? What if Harrison wasn’t just pretending that Herbert was broke?