Chapter 55
May Bailey to Jessie Buchanan May 23, 1938
Ever since Max's visit a week ago, I have been turning over in my mind the problem with which he presented me. Kenneth Baird and his father before him [Harlan Baird 1866-1924, ed.] have had it in for me and mine since the Silverdome silver strike. It was an ugly affair as we both know.
Harlan always held a grudge. He also never forgave John for refusing to join a united front with him and other area mine owners back in 1907 to force down the miners' wages, keep their work hours unreasonably long, and shut out the union. The elder Baird almost got his revenge in 1920 working with the Royal Dominion Bank to try to take over the Silverdome Mining Company when we were in weakened condition due to the postwar slump.
Perhaps things would have been better if Kenneth Baird's far more decent older brother, Ryan, had survived the war, but he didn't. Instead, Kenneth Baird inherited the family business, after a bitter lawsuit against his sister that revealed some ugly family secrets. What was already a career of heartless betrayals and shady business practices soon became even worse.
The way he cheated his father's old business partner, Richard Holloway, out of his share of Baird-Holloway Paper in 1925, still nauseates me to think of it. Now he's trying to defame New Bedford. If he wants to brag that Northbridge is a better place to live and do business than New Bedford, it might be a good idea for someone to find out for certain whether or not his claim is true. …
From the Journal of Maisie McGinty May 24, 1938
Dad was enjoying the chess game that he's playing by mail with Lionel Marshall and hates to cut it short. It's a shame that what Mr. Marshall is planning to do to those poor Jews isn't something that any right guy can ignore. Opponents who can give him a run for his money aren't easy to find. "The man has a real talent for making you think he's playing one kind of game when he's really playing another."
I've noticed that, myself. Dad added that Lionel Marshall was also aces at changing strategies in a split second if the one he started out with turned out to be no good. I was still thinking about the louse after getting home from the New Bedford Hospital Auxiliary meeting. Mrs. Bailey was looking over some papers in her study, so Grace let me in.
It took less than a minute for her to notice that I was distracted. I admitted that Mr. Marshall seemed like such a nice person. I couldn't believe that he turned out to be such a crumb. Grace answered thoughtfully that nice isn't always the same as good. I shook my head. "Next, you'll be telling me that you're secretly rotten."
Grace smiled. She had that naughty gleam in her eye that she always gets when she's about to pull my leg. "You found me out. I've just been biding my time. I'm secretly plotting to take control of the Silverdome Mining Company. When I do, I'll get rid of Hub's paying in stock plan, cut salaries, bust the union, and sell tons of nickel to the Germans and Japanese for their war machines."
I was starting to feel a little nervous. "Where do I fit into your evil plans?"
"I'll throw you out of the house, of course. You'd cramp my style with all the slick characters from the roadhouse I'll be making time with while Van is in Spain. I'm sure you and your father can survive on what he makes at the pawnshop."
I must have been looking at Grace as though she were Boris Karloff in rotting mummy makeup. She quickly assured me that she was only joking. I was glad to hear it. The glimpse of what Grace might be like if she weren't the sweetheart she is turned my blood cold.
Vanaver Mainwaring to Grace Mainwaring May 23, 1938
… I leave Le Havre tomorrow by rail for Perpignan. After Perpignan, except for the surprise I have in store for my friends in the battalion, it's goodbye to luxury and privacy. I will enjoy a cigar and brandy and my last good meal before crossing into Spain. I will also write my last letter containing any mention of the more intimate details of the reunion you and I will enjoy on my return. Some things are none of the censor's business.
Now that the French have reopened the border with Spain, I should be able to get across as easily as munitions and supplies are doing every day. I expect to be back with the Mac-Paps within a week. I doubt my friends there will believe that I'm actually returning until I arrive in the flesh. The consensus among them will probably be that my shrapnel wound must have been worse than they thought since I'm obviously suffering from brain damage. …
From the Journal of Maisie McGinty May 25, 1938
I hated to bother Grace with a problem which was small potatoes next to hers. However, Pritchard insisted that I didn't need his help. All I had to do was follow the instructions in the cookbook. I tried to tell him that I always forget something or get something mixed up when I do that, but he wouldn't listen. When I asked Grace for help baking the blueberry muffins, she was her usual kind self. "I'll be glad to. Any special reason?"
I tried not to blush, but I'm sure my face was as red as a strawberry. "They're for Hub. A graduation present."
"Ohh," Grace grinned mischievously. "I see."
Her amusement made me squirm. "I thought …"
"You thought that if you gave him some delicious muffins, he'd be impressed, see you in a whole new light, and fall for you."
You can always count on Grace to be fast on the uptake. I admitted that I've been reading some of the women's magazines that Lucy McGuiness' mother takes. "I've tried everything else with Hub. Maybe he really would like someone more domestic."
Grace wasn't so sure. "I don't know about that. Alice MacFarlane was a tomboy and Laura Bridgeman is an artist. Not to mention he was raised by a woman who runs a beauty parlor."
"The women's magazines say that men only want the feminine homemaker type."
Grace's mouth quirked. "Bear in mind that some of the women who write for them make a very good living telling other women that they shouldn't have careers."
"Says the woman who writes a home making column."
Grace raised her hand. "I only advise women on how to run a home. I don't tell them that there's something wrong with them if they want to take another path."
I was about ready to throw in the towel. "I just wish there were a path that would bring Hub to me. Competing with other girls is bad enough. How do I compete with God?"
Grace smiled one of her sympathetic smiles that always makes everything seem at least a little better and put a hand on my shoulder. "Love isn't about competition. It's not a prize you win. It's a gift to be offered and received freely. Sometimes the person you offer it to cares for you in the same way. Sometimes he doesn't and you just have to accept it."
"Maybe Hub just isn't ready to care for me the way I want now."
Grace looked at me sadly. "… and he will later if you give him time and don't give up on him? I used to think that way about Barney Gattis when I was your age. Nothing I did to get him to notice me worked. I let Ollie take me to the movies a couple of times to make him jealous which wasn't really fair to Ollie. I wasted a year pining after Barney before I faced up to the fact that it was hopeless. Now, I can't believe I was ever that crazy about him."
I knew that Grace was trying to comfort me, but I couldn't imagine ever coming to feel that way about Hub. Grace had an answer for that too. "Four years ago, I couldn't have imagined feeling that way about Del. Now, if I saw him again, I'd want us to be friends, but nothing more. I wish that he'd get in touch with Max, so we'd all know that he's alright."
Next Week: The man who came back. Graduation. Spanish resistance. A memory of farewell.