Going to the window, Pearl held back the curtains that had been closed to block the midday sun. From this height, she could see the yard, the hanging laundry swaying in the breeze, the barn and the lake off in the distance. Their dog, Shep, was taking a leisurely trot around the chicken coop, pretending to be a guard dog. The sun glinted off the lake, waterfowl bobbing and dipping on the surface. It was the same view she’d seen her entire life, and she was so tired of it. Someday she’d be living in the thick of a big city, where every day she’d come across someone new instead of having to look at the same old faces she’d known ever since she was a child.
She was just about to drop the curtain when she spotted Alice and John stepping out from a cluster of trees just beyond the hanging laundry. John still wore his tweed cap, but he’d taken off his jacket. He was wearing his work clothes: button-down shirt and suspenders, along with his patched trousers and boots. Alice, clad in a gray dress, still wore the apron she used to hold the clothespins when she hung the wash. Normally, this combination made Pearl think of the word dowdy, but today Alice looked uncharacteristically attractive: her step was carefree, and the sun made her hair gleam. John and Alice weren’t touching, but there was no mistaking there was something between them. Alice’s face radiated pure joy, and John had a sly look, as if he had a secret. Their hands hung at their sides as they walked, but Pearl suspected those hands had been clasped together at some point. She watched as John leaned over and said something to make her sister laugh. Pearl had seen enough motion pictures to know when a couple looked completely head over heels in love, and she recognized it now, right in front of her.
Alice and John in love? A raw, ugly feeling rose from within her, and she found herself seething. Unfair. It was so unfair! How could it be that Alice was the one he chose, when Alice didn’t even care about such things?
Pearl had yearned for a love affair of her own for years: she’d pored over movie magazines, envying the pictured couples, lain in bed imaging herself in the arms of a handsome beau as he declared his love, and mentally put herself in the place of actresses in the romantic scenes. She’d been sure that out of the two oldest sisters, she would be the first to fall in love—so sure, in fact, that she’d already planned the words she’d use to console Alice.
Don’t worry, Alice, it will be your turn soon enough.
You’ll meet someone soon.
Any man would be lucky to have you on his arm.
She knew Alice would understand that Pearl was the prettier sister, and more lively too. That men were just drawn to her like moths to a flame. This, she knew, was true. So why didn’t John realize it as well?
Not that John was such a catch. He was a student, his family had no property or money, and he took so long to answer a question that she often wondered if he had a brain in his head. No, her father was wrong. John wasn’t the one for Alice, not even for the summer.
If anyone else had seen them coming out of the woods, Alice with that foolish grin, John looking like the cat that swallowed the canary, it would be scandalous. They were fortunate Pearl was the one who spotted them and no one else. Next time they might not be so lucky.
She dropped the curtain, unsure what to do next but certain that she couldn’t, wouldn’t let this romance between John and Alice go any further. It just wasn’t right.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
1916
My dearest Alice （if I may），
I am glad you have entrusted me with your secret hiding spot. I hope that by tucking this letter underneath your box you find it in good shape and entirely legible.
When I knew I was going to be spending the summer months in Pullman, Wisconsin, working in a feed mill, my greatest hope was that I would earn enough money to cover my tuition for the year. I knew the work would be tiring, and that the accommodations would not be luxurious, but it didn’t matter. I am no stranger to hardship.
What I did not anticipate, what I never could have anticipated, even in my wildest dreams, was that I would meet a girl like you. There have been so many things I have longed to say to you these past few weeks, but your busy household made it difficult to find a quiet moment when I could speak only to you. I was also a little hesitant to speak of matters of the heart, for fear you would find me too bold and not share my feelings. I have discovered that I find it easier to write such things than to speak them aloud, and so I am glad to be able to write this all down in a letter.
I do not know how best to say how important you have become to me. Seeing your beautiful face each day has become my greatest pleasure. Hearing you sing is all the music I will ever need. Your laughter is tonic for my soul. You have a keen intelligence, and I enjoy hearing your opinions after reading the newspaper.