Lizzie was joining friends at church. Mamah relished having just the five of them together. After breakfast there would be baths, and games, and dinner to think about later. It would give shape to the day. So many days had been shapeless lately.
She didn’t believe in making resolutions on January first, and she hadn’t uttered a real prayer for a long time. But she found herself grateful to be present at the table.
It will be all right,
she thought.
IN THE AFTERNOON, with Martha down for a nap and John playing next door, she put her feet up to peruse the events calendar in the
Oak Leaves.
When she spotted the notice WRIGHT TO SPEAK ON THE ART OF THE MACHINE , she felt a tingling all over. Her eyes flew down the column, searching for the location of his talk. She stood up in agitation then.
Goddamn you, Frank. I can’t even read the paper.
Already she could feel the old cloud filling up her head.
1909
CHAPTER 7
April 12, 1909
Dearest Mamah,
We have survived another winter though it’s still frozen here, and I find myself rounding out. I know I am entirely too old to be bouncing another child on my knee. But here I am (happy to boot), due in late September. I’m not looking forward to a summer of confinement, though, as Alden is away much of the time. How did I overlook that little detail when I agreed to marry a mining engineer?
That’s where you come in. Why don’t you and the children come out for a visit? Boulder is the most beautiful spot on earth in summer. There are outings by rail into the mountains to collect wildflowers, and plenty of interesting lectures over at the Chautauqua camp. You would be entirely in your element. And we could have a grand time catching up. Say you will! I’ll make sure you have fun.
Give my love to Edwin, and ask his forgiveness in advance if I steal you away for a couple of weeks. Better still, tell him to come. Kisses all around.
Mattie
Mamah arrived in the field first. She maneuvered the Studebaker along the one road that led to the undeveloped lots just a mile north of town. She and Frank had met there twice the previous spring. The road was surprisingly dry for April.
She drove past the lampposts that had been installed last year in early summer but never lit. The poles were waiting for houses and people and lawns.
“Are you going to class?” Edwin had asked her this morning. He spoke carefully most of the time these days, uncertain what might set her off.
“No.”
“But I thought you loved it.”
She’d sighed. The thought of climbing on the elevated train and getting out to Hyde Park, then sitting through a two-hour lecture, made her weary rather than eager, as she used to feel.
“Herrick bores me,” she said. “How is your grapefruit?”
“Dandy.”
“And work?”
“Wagner Electric still stands.”
“I’m sorry, Edwin. I haven’t asked you a thing about work. I know you’ve had contract negotiations, and I haven’t—”
“It’s all right.”
Mamah looked out of the dining room window. “It’s just that…the sky has been so gray lately.”
“Not today. You need to get out in the sun. It’s glorious out there.” He pecked her on the cheek and left.
When Mattie’s note had arrived that morning, Mamah was jubilant. She searched the newspaper for train schedules, even though it would be another month before she could leave. Around two, just as she sat down at her secretary to write to Mattie, Louise tapped on the door.
“Mr. Wright is here, ma’am. With another man.”
Mamah felt the pen in her hand start to quiver. She walked out into the living room to find Frank and the stranger staring at the row of stained-glass windows along the west side of the room. A wave of anger swept over her.
“The horizontal line is the line of domesticity, of course,” Frank was saying.
Mamah cleared her throat, and both men turned toward her.
“Mrs. Cheney,” Frank said, bowing elegantly. “Forgive us for
She didn’t believe in making resolutions on January first, and she hadn’t uttered a real prayer for a long time. But she found herself grateful to be present at the table.
It will be all right,
she thought.
IN THE AFTERNOON, with Martha down for a nap and John playing next door, she put her feet up to peruse the events calendar in the
Oak Leaves.
When she spotted the notice WRIGHT TO SPEAK ON THE ART OF THE MACHINE , she felt a tingling all over. Her eyes flew down the column, searching for the location of his talk. She stood up in agitation then.
Goddamn you, Frank. I can’t even read the paper.
Already she could feel the old cloud filling up her head.
1909
CHAPTER 7
April 12, 1909
Dearest Mamah,
We have survived another winter though it’s still frozen here, and I find myself rounding out. I know I am entirely too old to be bouncing another child on my knee. But here I am (happy to boot), due in late September. I’m not looking forward to a summer of confinement, though, as Alden is away much of the time. How did I overlook that little detail when I agreed to marry a mining engineer?
That’s where you come in. Why don’t you and the children come out for a visit? Boulder is the most beautiful spot on earth in summer. There are outings by rail into the mountains to collect wildflowers, and plenty of interesting lectures over at the Chautauqua camp. You would be entirely in your element. And we could have a grand time catching up. Say you will! I’ll make sure you have fun.
Give my love to Edwin, and ask his forgiveness in advance if I steal you away for a couple of weeks. Better still, tell him to come. Kisses all around.
Mattie
Mamah arrived in the field first. She maneuvered the Studebaker along the one road that led to the undeveloped lots just a mile north of town. She and Frank had met there twice the previous spring. The road was surprisingly dry for April.
She drove past the lampposts that had been installed last year in early summer but never lit. The poles were waiting for houses and people and lawns.
“Are you going to class?” Edwin had asked her this morning. He spoke carefully most of the time these days, uncertain what might set her off.
“No.”
“But I thought you loved it.”
She’d sighed. The thought of climbing on the elevated train and getting out to Hyde Park, then sitting through a two-hour lecture, made her weary rather than eager, as she used to feel.
“Herrick bores me,” she said. “How is your grapefruit?”
“Dandy.”
“And work?”
“Wagner Electric still stands.”
“I’m sorry, Edwin. I haven’t asked you a thing about work. I know you’ve had contract negotiations, and I haven’t—”
“It’s all right.”
Mamah looked out of the dining room window. “It’s just that…the sky has been so gray lately.”
“Not today. You need to get out in the sun. It’s glorious out there.” He pecked her on the cheek and left.
When Mattie’s note had arrived that morning, Mamah was jubilant. She searched the newspaper for train schedules, even though it would be another month before she could leave. Around two, just as she sat down at her secretary to write to Mattie, Louise tapped on the door.
“Mr. Wright is here, ma’am. With another man.”
Mamah felt the pen in her hand start to quiver. She walked out into the living room to find Frank and the stranger staring at the row of stained-glass windows along the west side of the room. A wave of anger swept over her.
“The horizontal line is the line of domesticity, of course,” Frank was saying.
Mamah cleared her throat, and both men turned toward her.
“Mrs. Cheney,” Frank said, bowing elegantly. “Forgive us for
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