Chapter 66: A Woman's Right
So I've done some research on Molly Brown and she did live in Denver most of the time and she was actually separated from her husband, Joseph Brown before the Titanic sank. I've decided to stretch certain things for the sake of the story, like that she stays in New York more often, she and her husband are separated but Joseph Brown does have a mining business or at least a section in New York.
"Are you sure I look alright?" Wendy asks Tommy several days later.
After meeting Molly Brown in the bar, they had both been able to quite their horrible jobs and be given more promising opportunities. Tommy working for Molly's husband mining company and Wendy as a secretary for the socialite's Women's movement. The couple was dressing in their best for their first days. They had met Mrs. Brown the following day at her New York apartment to discuss their new jobs. Molly set Tommy up to speak with her husband, while she told Wendy where the Women's group would meet each day and what her duties would be.
The two were very nervous, putting on their best clothes for their first day.
"You look as beautiful as the day I met you," the man says with a wink.
Wendy blushes and giggles gently. She'd never thought that in a million years that she'd be on this sort of wild adventure, leaving service completely, finding a beau and getting a proper career that she liked. Her dream of being a writer was still in the back of her mind, but she still had hope that it would one day come true.
The two check the clock and know that it's time to leave. They leave Saul and Eric to their own devices, both are drunk and passed out in the front room from a fantastic party that was held on the sixth floor of their apartment building. Neither Wendy nor Tommy attended due to wanting to be well rested for their jobs.
The two take the bus downtown and then Wendy kisses her beau goodbye and gets off the bus, as he had to go almost all the way across town. She hurries towards the local community building, where the Women's Rights group was meeting.
The former maid straightens her hat and then enters the building. Her heart is racing, in anxiety, but also in excitement. She was finally going to have a respectable profession and she wouldn't be harassed by drunk men anymore.
She finds the room in which the group of women are meeting, all of them sit at a long table. She knocks carefully. Molly sits at the head of the table and smiles at the sight of their newest secretary. The socialite stops the entire meeting to personally greet the arrival.
"Everyone, I'd like you all to meet Wendy, she's going to be our newest typist and secretary."
Many young women smile and nod in approval, muttering greetings of some kind.
"Now, Wendy, you're just in time because we need someone to take notes on some of the committee's ideas," Molly explains.
Molly guides the former maid to an adjacent table and hands her a pencil and paper.
"You will document all of our suggestions and anything else that we feel is important. After that, we'd like you to type them for us as a sort of script, okay?"
Wendy nods and takes the pencil. She then mentally prepares herself for the task ahead. Her hand shakes a little bit as Molly begins their previous conversation about upcoming events.
The young woman takes down whatever she can that she thinks is important said from the committee. Her handwriting was not superb, Rose never got around to teaching her how to make her letters flow on the page or how to make sure the words remained straight. It did not matter that much, however since she would be typing most of it.
The more that Wendy writes, the more intrigued she becomes with what the women are saying. They make all sorts of statements about how that the females of today should have the right to vote as they were as impacted by politics as the men were. They discuss the previous fundraiser, Molly's dinner where the speaker, was moderately received by the crowd. They did not make a lot of money from it because most of the proceeds were going to the widows of Titanic. They needed another event, something to get the people talking. One woman suggested a picket line, or perhaps a billboard claiming that women are people too. They thought of radio broadcasts or even a bake sale. Flyers and brochures could also be useful
Wendy scribbles all the ideas down, but eventually, her mind begins to wander a little bit. As the meeting goes on and on, she starts thinking about her own writing. She remembered what Mrs. Brown had said that she was tired of reading stories about the upper class and that everyone was happy and successful in the end. The free-thinking socialite wanted perspectives on the everyday person. The now rich woman was once an average lower-class woman until her husband became successful in the mining business. She may have found success, but there were still many people who were starving and were looking for means to an end.
The former maid begins thinking about the stories she'd heard while working at the bar. Some patrons, when they were drunk enough, would open up to the waitress and tell them about the things that they had done. From spending time on the railway to escaping a shootout in Texas, all of these fascinated her and these were average people, not the upper class who never did anything that would dirty their gloves and dresses, but real people. She unknowingly begins writing down different tales that were told to her when the meeting becomes boring.
When the meeting finally ends, Molly has to say Wendy's name several times to get her attention. The new secretary reads out everything that she recorded and then the women take a vote on what the best course of action was. Once the vote was over, one of the women then dictated to Wendy what she was to type. It was a letter requesting a meeting with the local churches about a series of bake sales that could be held in the local areas. The woman looks over the maid's work once she's done and eyes her with some disapproval, seeing how her penmanship was rather poor. She wanted to question Molly about it, but the socialite would obviously have none of it. What she said would go, no questions asked.
The new member of the group then follows one of the committee members down to a small area at the front of the building. It was sort of alike an office with a desk set up and a large typewriter on top.
"This will be your work station," the member explains. "You'll be in charge of mailing and posting letters, taking, and making phone calls, sending and receiving telegrams, greeting any visitors, typing and documenting our meetings as well as keeping the place orderly and help in making coffee and refreshments. You will also be the last one to leave every day so you must make sure to lock up the building before you leave… if that clear?"
Wendy simply nods and smiles the entire time. Despite having to serve the women of the committee, which was very similar to her previous job, the other tasks sounded rather important and exciting. She was eager to learn.
The committee member goes through everything for the young woman to do, walking her step by step. It takes most of the morning and then both women go and serve refreshments to the rest of the group. After lunch, most of the women leave to attend to other matter like their families or afternoon tea, leaving Wendy be to get settled and document her first day.
Sitting in the chair, the young woman feels tears come to her eyes, feeling proud.
If only mother and father could see me now…
The typewriter makes her very excited. It looked almost brand new, none of the keys were missing and the paper inside looked so neat and white, not the dumpster, scrap pieces she'd been working on. Wendy sits up very straight, feeling very important and begins to sort through the notes that she'd taken from the meeting.
She starts typing up the letter given to her and she learns very quickly how hard typing really is. Her hands must learn where all the letters are as well as when to space things. If she messes up, she is forced to tear out the page and start anew. It's hard to go back and forth between the written notes and the typed letters. She feels rather flustered, but as the clock on the wall strikes 6 o'clock, she has the letter finished.
Sighing deeply, Wendy puts the letter in one of the drawers and then goes about her job of turning off the lights and locking the building up. Despite how frustrating it is to type, she still likes that she gets to use a typewriter that is practically brand new.
Before leaving, the new secretary sorts through the papers and then finds the list of tales that she'd heard from her previous job. She thought it was mostly nonsense at the time, but now she could see the potential. These would be fascinating to read in book form.
The young woman then catches one of the last busses home and enters her apartment. She finds that Eric and Saul are unsuccessfully trying to cook beef stew. They look very relieved when the woman walks in. She tells them how they have to stir it continuously in order for the broth to thicken properly.
Just as Wendy sets the table, Tommy walks in… at least she thinks it's Tommy. He's covered from head to toe in coal dust. The only way she could tell that it was him was his lively eyes, which especially popped behind the coal dust. He gives them all a toothy grin.
"Saint's alive, shadow men really do exist," Saul jokes.
"He looks like he got into a fight with an octopus," Eric adds.
Wendy greets Tommy with a kiss, despite that he smells like rock and sweat.
"I thought about you all day," he whispers.
"Me too," she smiles back.
"I definitely should not have worn my Sunday shirt," he sighs.
"I'll do my best to clean it," Wendy shrugs. "Now go wash up for supper."
At dinner, Tommy tells them all about his first day. Meeting Joseph Brown and then being given all the equipment, including a headlamp and pickaxe. He talked about how his fellow employees were not too thrilled with him at first until he accidentally hit a rock too hard, causing him to lose his grip and for his pickaxe to crash against the opposite wall, narrowly missing their foreman. All of the miners hated the foreman and they all thought he'd done it on purpose. After that, they treated him to some whiskey after their shift was done. Saul and Eric congratulated their friend before they had to leave for their own night shifts at the bar.
Once alone, Wendy is washing dishes as Tommy comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"How was your first day?" he asks.
She tells him about everything that went on and how she got to use a new typewriter and how she learned how to send telegrams. He listens to her with genuine interest, happy that she was practicing what she wanted to do in the future. He kisses her and congratulates her on a job well done.
Afterward, Tommy decides to have a smoke out on the fire escape while Wendy took the piece of paper with her notes on it. She sits down in front of the now drab and ugly looking typewriter compared to the one at work. She puts on a scrap piece of paper and slowly begins to type, the words coming to her like the flow of a river. She starts with a story told by an aged woman who used to come to the bar, order only rum on the rocks and then remind the waitress about how she was once an heiress to a large fortune, but her sneaky, no good brothers managed to swindle her out of every penny. She always thought she deserved that money, she had always been her father's favourite. Wendy could not tell if the story was true, but it got her thinking. She smiles, deciding to incorporate her job into the title. Her hands go over the keys and she types…
Chapter 1: A Woman's Right
A/N: Looks like Wendy has some new inspiration. Please review.