Chapter One
Los Angeles March 1913
No sooner did Elsie Atherton pull in front of her mother’s house than her younger sister, Dora came running out.
“Let’s go,” she urged while climbing in the flashy red Cadillac.
“Is Mother home?” Elsie inquired as she drove away.
“No. She went calling on some sick lady from church. She’ll be back any time.”
“She’ll want to know where you went.”
“I left a note. I plan to tell her what we did.”
“Then Blake will find out.”
“You didn’t tell him?”
Elsie heaved a sigh. Her husband had been in constant trouble for keeping secrets since their impetuous marriage over a year-and-a-half ago. His secrecy nearly ended their relationship. Blake seemingly learned his lesson. Suddenly it was Elsie being less than honest. She glanced at Dora who somehow always managed to be at the heart of the most serious Atherton difficulties. “Blake would not approve. He doesn’t hesitate to disparage the current craze for the occult. If you tell Mother, she’ll tell him what we’ve done. They talk all the time.”
“Then this will have to be our secret.” Dora seemed delighted to share this confidence with her sister. Only Elsie understood her need to contact the baby. After all, they both were truly Matilda’s mothers.
Elsie shook her head. “I have to tell him. You need to give me time to get back to Long Beach and explain before you let the cat out of the bag.”
“Who would ever dream Blake and Mother would have such a bond? Aren’t men supposed to hate their mother-in-law?”
“They did start out that way. Am I going the right direction?”
“Yes. We’ll take the next left and head toward those hills.”
“I’ll be honest, Dora. I don’t feel right about this. There are so many frauds. What makes you think this Mrs. Louden is real? How do you know she won’t make things up just to take your money? Etta was only six months old when she died. She couldn’t talk. How could she communicate now?”
“I asked Mrs. Louden when I telephoned. She said she’s contacted babies in the past. She’s experienced. I have no doubts about this.”
“So many spiritualists have been discredited.”
“Mrs. Piper has undergone every test imaginable. All the experts agree she’s real.”
“That’s one person out of hundreds, maybe thousands.”
“Mrs. Louden has a letter of recommendation from Mrs. Piper.”
“And how do you know the letter is real?”
“You’re too pessimistic, Elsie. I’m almost sorry I brought you. I hoped you would be as encouraged by this as I will be.”
“First of all, I’m the one bringing you. I think you have unrealistic expectations. You’ve already made up your mind what will happen.”
“You didn’t speak to Mrs. Louden. She sounded entirely sympathetic and capable. There’s the address. Park in front of the pink house.”
A nervous Elsie parked and got out of the car. She paused to study the Victorian cottage, painted in shades of pink with elaborate tan-and-white gingerbread trim. By the time she stepped on the curb, Dora already climbed the porch stairs. Elsie hung back as Dora rang the bell. An austere butler answered. Elsie was reminded of her first meeting with John at the Atherton mansion. Although they developed a good relationship, she had originally been terrified of him.
Dora confirmed her appointment and took Elsie’s hand as the butler showed them into a parlor. Heavy drapes covered the windows. Only a few candles glowed in the dim room. The butler disappeared as soon as the sisters were seated at a table. A grandfather clock ticked off the seconds as they waited. Elsie wanted nothing more than to leave while Dora’s eyes seemed to blaze in anticipation as she chattered away. It took several moments for them to notice a woman had joined them. She stood quietly in front of a curtained doorway near the table. Elsie gasped when she finally realized the woman’s presence.
“You must be Mrs. Louden,” stated an eager Dora. “Can we begin?”
“Certainly. You are Mrs. Bank?”
Elsie gave her sister a glare. Dora wasn’t a Mrs. Anybody. Somehow, she was not surprised Dora passed herself off as a married woman.
“Yes. This is Mrs. Atherton. She cared for my baby the first few months of her life. She was like a second mother to my Matilda.”
“Perhaps we should allow Mrs. Louden to provide pertinent information, Dora,” urged Elsie who struggled to recall what the spiritualist might have already overheard.
Mrs. Louden gave a feeble smile. Skeptics were common. The two young women were obviously sisters. Besides their plain, black mourning dresses, they shared facial characteristics and the same shade of dark brown hair. As often happened in families, their attitudes could not have been more different. “I’m certain the information I provide will put your minds at ease.”
“What do we do first?” Dora asked.
“Please place your hands palms down on the table. This is an automatic writing séance. My contact on the other side is Phillip. He’ll provide information through my hand. Once we start, feel free to ask any questions you might have. I won’t be able to hear while I’m transcribing, but Phillip will respond through my writing. You say the child’s name was Matilda?”
Regretfully, Dora replied, “She also went by Etta.”
Mrs. Louden took up her pencil and closed her eyes.
* * *
Blake Atherton constantly raced through the streets of Los Angeles. He paid fines so regularly, his tickets likely funded the mayor’s salary. Hoping to avoid any delay this evening, he rushed toward his inherited boyhood home—the ostentatious mansion of his parents’ dreams. His Elsie sounded distraught when she telephoned. She had an aversion to the house, much preferring the home they shared in Long Beach near his shipyard. He was surprised when she telephoned, requesting he come to fetch her home.
Ever eager to please his bride, Blake felt he’d grown into his role as husband. He would be the first to admit initial failings. The fact he and Elsie were still together seemed nothing short of a miracle. Her request this evening was unusual. Elsie prided herself in her self-sufficiency. He appreciated this attribute when he was buried in work and ignored it when he knew what was best for his wife. His sole ambition over the last few months had been to avoid upsetting Elsie at all costs. If she needed him tonight, he would do anything in his power to fulfill her request. And his powers were substantial.
Mr. Atherton was an entrepreneur supreme, rich, athletic, handsome and self-assured—a catch by anyone’s standards but Elsie’s. She was impressed only by honesty. She never appreciated his little fibs, which he really only used to protect or sway her. He expended every asset to woo her, but she remained oblivious to all but his character. To be fair, his green eyes had always been a selling point, as were Elsie’s topaz blue orbs.
Blake ran his hand through his light brown hair as he jumped out of his apple green Matheson automobile and bounded through the front door. He tossed his Panama hat on the entry table. Before he could shout for John, the butler walked from a hallway beside the grand double staircase.
“Mrs. Atherton is upstairs, sir. In the nursery.”
“Thank you, John.” This was the last place on earth Blake expected to find his wife. He took the staircase two steps at a time and hurried down the corridor. The door to the nursery was open. Blake walked through and found Elsie clutching a baby toy as she stood in the middle of the room, crying.
“You’re disappointed in me.” Elsie stared at her husband.
Blake shook his head and walked across the room, taking her in his arms. “I’m never disappointed in you, my darling. Haven’t you learned that about me yet?” He felt immense relief when she chuckled and embraced him in return. “What is this about?”
“I need to be rid of Etta’s things: her clothes, toys and the furnishings. I know this is wasteful, but—”
“Elsie, if you want to donate the baby things, I have no objections. We need to start over. It’s a good idea. John would have done this for you.”
“I want new furniture. This could be a guest room.”
“Whatever makes you feel better. Tell me what brought this on. Why did you come to the city?”
“You won’t like what I have to say.”
“Try me.” Blake drew his wife toward the window seat and sat beside her. He managed, barely, to keep a calm expression at Elsie’s next words.
“Dora asked me to take her to a spiritualist.”
“Why?”
“I think you know why. She wanted to contact Etta. She felt no one else would understand.”
“Why do you let her drag you into her mess?”
“Me? I believe it’s you she ensnared in her prior problems.”
“Let’s don’t go down that road. Tell me what happened.”
“The woman she found does automatic writing. I was skeptical as I’m sure you would have been. Dora, on the other hand, was completely taken in. The woman wrote the kind of things any mother would want her baby to say were it possible.”
“Etta couldn’t even talk.”
“That wasn’t supposed to matter.”
Blake guffawed. “I’m sure it wasn’t.”
“She wrote about how Etta loved to rock and about some night when she looked at the moon through the window. Dora bawled conspicuously as she read. At the end, the woman wrote, ‘I love you, Mama. Remember me always.’”
“And Dora seemed happy with this or she’ll coerce you into going again?”
“I was anxious to leave when Dora read one last sentence, ‘Hug Kamchatka for me.’ She didn’t know what the request meant, but she didn’t dwell on it. The trouble is, Blake, I know what it means.” Elsie held up the well-dressed stuffed cat she’d clung to since Blake entered the room. “This is Kamchatka, a toy I made for Etta.”
“I’ve seen the cat before. I saw Etta chew its ear.”
“How would that woman know such an odd detail?”
“Maybe Dora mentioned it.”
“Dora didn’t know anything about the cat. I haven’t spoken the word Kamchatka since Dora took Etta away.”
“Those people have their ways. It’s all a trick.”
“Maybe most of it is. What if when Etta said, ‘I love you, Mama,’ she was talking to me and not Dora? She only lived with Dora a short time before she got sick.” Elsie’s tears began to fall in earnest.
“Elsie, Etta didn’t talk to anybody. What happened to this writing?”
“After Dora finished taking it all in, Mrs. Louden burned it.”
“How convenient.”
“I looked, Blake. The word Kamchatka was clear to me.”
“I thought we were going to focus on our future and our baby.” Blake put his hand on his wife’s stomach. “Did you tell Dora about our baby?”
Elsie shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Your gathered, draped dresses are barely hiding our happy news.”
“I should have told her, but I can’t bring myself to do it.”
“I’m happy you finally decided to go out in the world. You’ve kept to yourself since—since Etta’s been gone. But I want you to promise you won’t return to that spiritualist or any other. Do I have your word?”
“I didn’t want to go there in the first place. I went for Dora.”
“And you won’t let her talk you into going there again, Kamchatka or not? We need to look to the future, Elsie.”
“I agree.”
It took a moment for Blake to screw up the courage to ask his next question. “Do you want me to make our announcement to your family?”
Elsie threw her arms around his neck. “It would be a tremendous relief to me.”
“Good. I’ll handle that and we can tell the Brundidges on Sunday.”
“It’s Bodie’s baptism. I don’t even have a gift and we’re the godparents.”
“What do you say we stay here in the city for a few days? You can shop. I’ll have John clear everything away and make a guest room here. You can choose any room in this house for a nursery. If you buy Bodie a children’s Bible, I’ll take care of the rest of his gift.”
Blake helped his wife up and steered her toward the door. He would have the room cleared out before morning. He never wanted her to see it again. “What about the cat? You can leave it beside the clothes.”
Elsie wrapped her arms firmly around the cat. “I want to keep this one thing.”
* * *
Natalie Grant Brundidge stood beside her husband, Joah, admiring their dearest friends, the Athertons, who posed in front of the baptismal font after the service. Elsie lovingly held baby Bodie and stared at the camera. Blake stood just behind; his arm wrapped protectively around his wife. With some effort, Natalie’s father managed to get Blake to look at the camera instead of Elsie. The godparents appeared the epitome of a loving family. Natalie would always think of them as family. Joah and Blake grew up together and went into business when they were little more than boys. Elsie was Natalie’s roommate at Miss Orton’s Classical School for Girls.
Mrs. Brundidge would not deny her concern over Elsie’s wardrobe choice. Fearing her friend would still be dressed in mourning, Natalie didn’t want any pall cast over her son’s baptism. She chided herself over her concern. Elsie always had a smart sense of style and was probably the best shopper Natalie knew. She struck the perfect compromise, wearing a sheer black lawn dress with narrow white stripes. The fashionable garment sported a separate overskirt and white lace collar and jabot. As Natalie considered Elsie’s attire, she made a discovery.
Intent to have a private word with her best friend, Natalie took Elsie by the arm and suggested, “Won’t you come help me? I need to get the baby’s things from the church office.”
“As long as I’m the one who gets to hold my godson.”
“This is your day—and Bodie’s. Be my guest.”
“Your father is certainly adamant about capturing today’s events photographically.”
“Do you know, Daddy went and bought his vest pocket Kodak camera for the sole purpose of taking pictures of Bodie? He apparently needed the most exclusive model and with all the accessories, spent almost $40! Daddy is so taken by his new grandson. I think we could fall off the end of the earth and he wouldn’t notice as long as we left Bodie behind. It’s a good thing our boy inherited his father’s red hair. I think it sets him apart from my brothers’ children. I hope someday one of our children inherits my blond hair.” No sooner did Natalie shut the office door than she excitedly proclaimed, “Elsie, are you expecting?”
“Oh dear. Is it obvious?” Elsie seemed embarrassed.
“No. I think it was the way you held Bodie and your profile from where I stood. I’m so excited for you! Does Blake know?”
“Of course, he does!”
“Well, that’s not a silly question. I can never figure out if you two are living in the same city much less the same house. I’m never surprised to hear Blake is sleeping in his office. It’s not as if the two of you have had an easy go of it. I’ve only rarely laid eyes on you since my wedding reception. Hopefully you can settle into marriage the way Joah and I have.”
Part of Elsie wished to take issue with her dearest friend’s comments. But it was a lovely day. She held her darling godson. It felt so good to have an infant in her arms again. They were set to have lunch at Mr. and Mrs. Grant’s splendid home. The fact Natalie was condescending and unnaturally snobbish could be thoroughly explored at a later date. Or perhaps not.
“Have you considered simplifying your life, Elsie? That has done a world of good for me. I’ve become opposed to living the way my parents do. I enjoy a modest lifestyle. Servants take more work than they save. You should insist Blake give up his mansion in the city. I admired the way you took control at the Long Beach house, minimizing servants, doing your own cooking and such. It saddens me to think Blake has wooed you to his opulent way of life. It’s a terrible mistake.”
“I seem to recall some friend of mine, a snobbish socialite so appalled at the thought of keeping to a newlywed budget, she sought the shelter of her parents’ home. Let me think. What was her name?”
“I’m trying to tell you; I’ve learned my lesson. I hate to see you forsake the simple life.”
“My choices have been few and far between. Blake has been obsessed by work ever since our marriage. Then I got sick and Etta came into our lives. It hasn’t mattered what plans I made, reality stepped in and changed everything.”
“I’m sorry. I know this has all been difficult. You must miss Etta so. Maybe I’m being selfish. I want my best girl friend close at hand, not wasting away in a mansion in Los Angeles. Now, you’ll be a mother too—a real mother! We’ll have such fun with our little ones.”
“I was a real mother, Natalie.”
The tone of Elsie’s voice served as a warning. Natalie knew from experience she was skating on thin ice. “Well, let’s go on to Mother and Daddy’s now and share your good news.”
* * *
Blake appeared all smiles as he helped his wife into the car, cranked the engine and settled into the driver’s seat. “Home to Long Beach, then?”
Elsie shook her head. “Mrs. Grant has taken a few tables at the fundraiser for the Humane Society. She asked Natalie to fill a table and I agreed to go on Tuesday. I’m tired, Blake. I think it’s best if I stay in the city instead of traveling back and forth. Do you have enough work here to keep you busy? If not, you can come back on the weekend. Alice asked us for Easter supper.”
“The last thing on earth I want is to spend next Sunday with Grandfather. I’ll call my sister and tell her we can’t come.”
“But your family should know about our baby.”
“I’ll tell Alice on the telephone. She’s a frightful gossip. She can spread the news.”
“It doesn’t seem a warm or friendly way to share our joy.”
Certain he knew the perfect enticement, Blake offered, “We could spend a quiet Easter at our home.”
“No. I’d have to cook and I’m truly tired. I’ll admit something. The months I lived in your mansion spoiled me. Don’t misunderstand, I like my days of sewing and cooking at our Long Beach home. To be honest, I’ve come to enjoy being waited on. It gave me more time with Etta than if I kept house while minding a baby. I cherish every moment we shared. Natalie said something that upset me—well, several things.”
“Do tell.”
“She claims you’ve won me over to your decadent way of life.”
Blake laughed.
“It’s not funny. I think she may be right. She also claims the simple life has drawn her and Joah together.”
“She would claim that. It’s the life she’s stuck with for now. Trust me, as the shipping business takes off, she’ll be out of Joah’s house and into a mansion as soon as she can get there. She’ll have a maid just to button her shoes. And Joah won’t hesitate to fulfill her every desire.”
“I never felt stuck when I kept the Long Beach house almost by myself. Perhaps I have forsaken my initial aspirations. And I thought you had concerns about the shipping business.”
“There was another article in the paper. The federal government is making noises about operating their own fleet of steamships through the Panama Canal. It means more competition for the shipping business but more business for A&B Shipbuilders. Washington can’t even decide if American ships will go toll-free which would be a boon to us. We have to wait and see what happens. Your mother asked us for Easter supper at her house. We could go there.”
“Did you tell her about the baby?”
“Not yet.”
“What did you give Bodie? Joah seemed completely stunned when he opened the card.”
“We gave him a piece of property.”
“Isn’t that a bit extreme?”
“We’re his godparents. It’s our duty to provide guidance and give him a good start in life. The property is almost worthless now but I believe by the time he reaches manhood, it will be a worthwhile asset.”
“I’ve been concerned about you.”
“Me? Why would you be?”
“You haven’t been yourself lately.”
“You mean, I haven’t been keeping secrets.”
“There’s something else. You’ve been entirely too calm. It was never my intention to change your personality.”
“Elsie, the only thing you really ever asked for was a quiet first year of marriage. I failed horribly in that regard.”
“Then you’re no longer concerned about my health?”
“Not exactly. I’m trying to put my concerns in perspective. In a way, our baby saved our marriage. I’m attempting to view our future optimistically. I have yet to fully embrace my hopeful outlook, but I’m trying to at least give the impression of a confident husband.”
“I’ve taken note of your impression and appreciate it. Frankly, Bodie’s gift is the most outlandish thing you’ve done of late.”
“And you disapprove?”
“No. I think I like it. I saw you and Joah fawning over Mr. Grant’s camera.”
“That’s quite a contraption. We need one so I can take pictures of our son.”
“Son? What makes you think we’ll have a son?”
“How can we have anything else? I’m a very manly man. We may be blessed by a daughter at some point, but how can you even entertain the idea our first child would not be a boy? If Joah can pull off a first-born son, there’s no doubt I will.”
“I take it back. Your personality is completely intact. Aren’t those photographs rather small?”
“With that camera, they’re about 3½ by 3½. The cheaper models take smaller pictures.”
“There’s only eight pictures on a roll of film. You’ll spend the rest of your life loading the camera.”
“But we’ll have a photographic diary of our son’s babyhood. We’re living in an age of wonder. If I travel to Long Beach for a day or two, I can be back for supper. We’ll spend the week here in Los Angeles. We’ll order Prince of Wales tea and cookies in bed and John will see to it our every wish is granted.”
Elsie rolled her eyes, but in her heart, she wondered if the good times Blake always promised were just on the horizon.
* * *
Elsie made her way to the Ebell clubhouse on Tuesday where the Humane Society hosted an afternoon of auction bridge to benefit the Peter Pan Home for orphans. The goal was to raise enough money to supply toys to the 31 children, aged 2 to 14. Elsie thought this an admirable goal and although she wasn’t much of a bridge player, took her place at a table with Natalie and two of their old school chums.
In between games, Elsie headed for the refreshment table. As she considered her options, Mrs. Grant walked up and put her arm around Elsie’s waist.
“I like your dress. It’s terribly becoming.”
“Thank you,” Elsie’s cheeks were pink. “It’s my first maternity dress.” The royal blue cotton voile garment had a square, white collar and gathered cuffs that fell right below the elbows. Flattering side panels and a wide waistband served to hide her expectant condition.
“I’m delighted you could join us today.”
“This is a wonderful cause. I believe I’ll ask Blake to make a donation to the Peter Pan Home. The children should have toys.”
“I’m sure he would. Idle hands are the devil’s workshop. Those children need something to occupy their time.”
“My Etta would have gone to an orphanage if we didn’t take her in. This cause is dear to my heart.”
“She’s never far from your thoughts, is she, dear?”
“I wake up in the night thinking I hear her cry. I’m anxious and not sleeping well. It’s been months now and I was only really Etta’s aunt, but I can’t seem to let go of her memory.”
“You shouldn’t abandon your memories. She’ll be with you always and that’s as it should be. I lost a baby once, not quite as old as your Etta, but it was devastating. Then we kept having boys and I never thought I’d get another little girl until Natalie finally came along.”
“How did you deal with your loss?”
“The other children took my time and effort. I know I’ll see my dear Carmen one day in heaven. She rarely comes to mind now, but when she does, I think of her there waiting for me. You have a new baby on the way. It’s best to dwell on your future.”
“It does feel good to be out in the world. I enjoyed myself at the baptism. I thoroughly relished your luncheon by the way.”
“Thank you.”
“Blake concerns me.”
“Is he distraught over Etta? I noticed he still wears a black band on his pocket handkerchief.”
“That’s probably more to appease me than to display his grief. Blake wasn’t attached to Etta. I worry whether he’ll be a good father—the kind my father was.”
“I believe I mentioned to you once before; most men aren’t interested in babies.”
“Blake wants a son like Bodie. I’m especially afraid he won’t feel a connection to a daughter.”
“Dearest Elsie, you need to stop fretting. At your age, you should enjoy life. You’re the envy of any woman who gets a look at your husband. I know he’s wildly in love. He’d do anything to make you happy. I’d wager any amount he’ll eagerly donate to the Peter Pan Home if you mention it. Sometimes the people we love don’t behave the way we think is best, but things have a way of working out. Take Natalie and Joah. I was dead set against their match until I realized Joah might be exactly the influence Natalie needed.”
“She’s happy you hired a governess today so she could enjoy playing cards.”
“Natalie has finally begun to settle down. I credit Joah for this change. I was wrong about him. Say, would you mind stopping by my card table on the way back to yours? I’ve been trying to get Natalie to show me how to play that new game, gin rummy, and she gives me different rules every time.”
“Oh, rummy is an easy game. It’ll only take me a minute to explain.” Balancing a tea cookie on her saucer, Elsie headed back to the tables. Discussing her concerns felt cathartic. One idea Mrs. Grant suggested captured her imagination. Her husband would eagerly arrange any way of life she desired. She envisioned a completely different lifestyle when she first married Blake. Then came a variety of compromises; some she relished. What did she really want?