Over time, he found that if he insisted on helping in the kitchen—mashing potatoes, chopping vegetables, or toting water—Pearl made herself scarce, and he’d have the kitchen alone with Alice and Daisy. He wasn’t sure what it was about Alice that had captured his attention. After giving it much thought, he decided it wasn’t one thing but a thousand things. She said more in a few words than Pearl did in an endless stream of blather. She was prettier than her sister too, without even trying. Sometimes when Pearl rambled on about Hollywood or Daisy said something silly, Alice gifted John with a smile, as if they were in on a secret.
Alice was smart. She read the newspaper that her father brought home each night. She also did the books for her father’s business and managed the household. She sewed all the girls’ clothing as skillfully as a professional seamstress. It was a lot for anyone to do.
John rarely saw her idle, and yet hard as she worked, she didn’t seem burdened. In fact, it was the opposite: she gave off an air of happiness that was contagious. She found joy in everyday things, celebrating the flowers Daisy picked for her and rejoicing when the cow produced more milk than usual. She sang as she worked and made silly jokes to make her sisters laugh. Alice anticipated what family members needed and had just that thing at the ready, whether it was a teaspoon of her homemade cough remedy, a cool wet cloth over a hot forehead, or a sympathetic ear. John didn’t think it was unusual that he was falling a little in love with Alice. The unusual part was that everyone else overlooked her. They all took her for granted, unaware they were in the presence of someone exceptional.
The first few weeks John lived with the Bennetts, he stayed behind on Saturday nights while Mr. Bennett drove his whole brood into town to see the motion picture at the Victory Theater. Pearl had told him confidentially that once in a while Mr. Bennett escorted them into the theater, got them to their seats, and admonished them to behave, then left with the excuse that he had to go outside to talk business with one of his customers. The younger girls believed him, but Pearl saw right through the ruse.
“He actually goes to the tavern down the street. I know because I smell beer on his breath. He’s always back by the time the picture is finished, though,” she said, as if to offset any objections John might raise. “We scarcely know he’s gone, and then before we know it, he returns, none the worse for wear.” John was amused by Pearl’s abashed explanation. Perhaps in Pullman a man having a beer counted as scandalous behavior? If that were so, the Bennetts would be shocked to know his secret.
On these prior Saturdays, John had not been invited but had watched them depart, Mr. Bennett and Alice in the raised front seat of the wagon, the other six girls sitting on a blanket in the open-air back, the same wagon he and Mr. Bennett used to transport supplies to and from the mill. He realized that first week that there would have been no room for him even if he had been asked, and so he didn’t take it as a personal slight but listened with interest when the girls excitedly told him about the evening after returning home.
The first time, Daisy had come running in to share details about the evening, asking, “Do you know Charlie Chaplin?”
“No,” John replied. “I can’t say that I’ve had the pleasure of making his acquaintance.” His answer made the girls laugh.
“He’s not a real person,” Daisy said, her eyes wide.
Helen said, “She’s asking because his new picture is at our theater.”
“It’s not a new picture,” Pearl said, exasperated. “We never get the new ones. It takes months and months for a new moving picture to get to Wisconsin, and then once they get here, they’re not new anymore. And then they stay for weeks and weeks.”
“Which is a very good thing,” Alice interjected, “because it gives me time to improve my piano playing.” She reached up and pulled a large pin out of her hat, a powder-blue number with a large brim and a fabric rose on the side. She lifted the hat off her head, revealing an elegant roll of hair pinned in place right above her shoulders. John had overhead Pearl say that this style, the Gibson tuck, was all the rage according to the fashion magazines, and Alice had taken to the idea, primarily for its ease, but he loved that this new hairstyle revealed the nape of her neck.
“Charlie Chaplin is so funny,” Daisy said. “Whenever I see him in the picture show, I laugh and laugh. He walks like this.” She illustrated a silly walk, almost falling over in the process.
“Someday I will have to see that for myself,” John said with a smile. It was the polite thing to say, but he didn’t actually think it would happen.