Chapter 22

22

AUGUST 15, 1927 MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA

I was thankful for a reprieve from the Ocean Curse and Marcus the next day as I helped Mother prepare for the arrival of a special guest. It was a strange reality to have a broken heart over a man who lived two hundred years ago. If Mother noticed my somber mood, she didn't comment. She probably assumed it had something to do with Lewis. Had she or Father noticed us embrace yesterday when he dropped me off at the house?

Pushing thoughts of Marcus aside, I focused on what Lewis might have learned when he went to the Green Lantern bar. Did he know if Annie was in Saint Paul? Where she might be staying? How long she'd be there?

Just after lunch, a knock at the front door told us that our guest had arrived.

"She's here," Mother said excitedly as she rushed into the foyer. Father was away from home today, working on the tent revival and Lindbergh's arrival, which were only eight days away.

"Irene!" Mother said as she opened the front door.

My beautiful cousin stood on the porch with a suitcase in hand. She was wearing a pretty summer dress, and her blond hair was a bit longer than it had been in May, but it was still stylish under her blue cloche hat. "Aunt Marian!" She set down her suitcase and gave my mother a hug. "And Caroline," Irene said next as she left my mother and hugged me. "It's so good to see you again."

Despite the trouble Irene had given me in Paris, I was happy she had come to be part of the Lindbergh celebration and the revival.

"Are you excited to see Lindbergh again?" I asked her.

"You have no idea. All my friends are so envious." She glanced at my mother and offered an embarrassed laugh. "And, of course, I'm excited to hear Uncle Daniel preach again. I'm a bit of a celebrity in Des Moines because I'm related to him."

"How kind," Mother said with a gentle smile. "Now, you must get settled, and then we'll have a nice long visit."

Though Irene had stayed with us many times before, I showed her to the spare bedroom on the second floor. She chatted about the train ride from Des Moines, a new dress her mother had made for her to wear for the Lindbergh festivities, and the job she had started as a children's governess this summer.

"Mama didn't want me to get a job," she told me as she removed her hat and gloves and set them on the bureau in the spare room. "But I know how tight finances are since Papa's death, and I wanted to help."

"That's very kind of you," I said, noticing something different about Irene though I couldn't quite put my finger on it. There was a softness to her, a gentleness she hadn't exhibited in Paris.

"It's helped me so much," she confided as she took a seat on the bed and patted the spot next to her.

I sat, smiling. "I could tell something was different."

Irene looked down at her polished nails and nodded. "I was hurting so much in Paris, Caroline. Losing Papa was a blow I hadn't seen coming, and it turned my world upside down. But I think seeing Mama suffer was the worst part. She's still very sad, but I haven't seen her cry in weeks."

"And how has the job helped?"

She shrugged. "It took my mind off things and gave me something to look forward to." Her eyes shone as she met my gaze. "The children are darlings, and they seem to love me, no matter what I wear or how I act. I've never felt such unconditional acceptance. I guess it gave me hope that my life could be full of a family of my own one day. I don't know. I suppose that sounds silly."

"Not at all. I'm happy to hear that your grief is easing and that your work has helped."

"I also owe you and your parents my gratitude, and perhaps an apology. I know I was difficult in Paris—"

"You don't owe us an apology."

"But I want to make one. I'm especially sorry for the night you followed me to the Dingo Bar. I didn't think about the consequences at the time, but I understand the position I was putting you and your parents in."

"Please don't apologize to them for that. It would be better if they didn't know."

She smiled and nodded. "I understand."

I hadn't thought much about that night in a long time, but I did now. "When we returned home, there was a letter waiting for me from Ernest Hemingway."

Irene's blue eyes grew wide, and she grabbed my arms. "What? You didn't destroy it, did you? He's only the most famous writer in America. You saved it, right?"

"I saved it," I said, "though I shouldn't have. If Mother or Father ever found it, I'd have a lot of explaining to do."

She stood and pulled me off the bed. "Where is it? Can you show me?"

Laughing, I brought her into my room, and I took my box of correspondence off the desk. "I put it in here because Mother is less likely to look through my personal letters. She values privacy. If she found the letter tucked under my mattress or hidden in my bureau, she might be more suspicious."

I handed the letter to Irene, and she opened it with enthusiasm. Her eyes grew wider still as she came to the end.

"Did he write to his friend at the Coliseum Ballroom about you?"

"I don't know."

"You didn't inquire?" She lowered the letter and stared at me. "When Ernest Hemingway makes a point to write to you, you should at least follow up on his suggestion."

"You just told me a minute ago that you realized the consequences of going to the Dingo Bar could have been worse. And that was in Paris! Can you imagine if I went to a speakeasy in Saint Paul?"

Her face fell, and she sighed. "I suppose. But, gee, that would be fun, wouldn't it?"

"Irene." I lowered my chin. "Don't get any wild ideas."

She grinned. "I won't go sneaking out, if that's what you mean. But it would be fun, don't you think? It's just a ballroom and dancing. There can't be anything wrong with that."

"The Coliseum has a reputation for being a speakeasy. And even if it didn't, people would still frown upon Reverend Baldwin's daughter at a ballroom."

"That's a shame." She handed back the letter as the telephone rang downstairs.

I put the letter back in my correspondence box and buried it under a few other envelopes.

"Caroline," Mother called up the stairs. "The telephone is for you."

I left Irene to unpack and went down the stairs to the dining room where the telephone hung on the wall. Mother had left the receiver dangling, but I could hear her humming softly in the kitchen. I lifted it and said, "Hello, this is Caroline."

"Hi, Carrie." Lewis's voice was clear on the other end. It was good to hear him again, especially after parting on such difficult terms yesterday.

"Hi, Lewis." My pulse sped, and I cupped my hand around the mouthpiece so Mother wouldn't hear. "Did you learn anything about Annie?"

"I guess we can cut to the chase." He chuckled, but then his voice grew serious. "I went to the Green Lantern yesterday, and Annie and Lloyd did check in there on Saturday night."

Even though I had suspected as much, hearing it made me feel kind of sick to my stomach. Annie was closer to me than ever before and I wanted answers, but I was almost afraid to get them. What if she told me something I didn't want to hear? Yet, it was too late to worry about that now. "Do you know where they're staying or for how long?"

"No, but I spoke to a few guys at the police station this morning and someone said they saw her last night at the Wabasha Street Caves. Rumor has it that she and Lloyd are making the rounds while they're in town, connecting with some of their local cronies. I wouldn't be surprised if they went to the Coliseum tonight."

The mention of the ballroom that Irene and I were just discussing felt jarring, yet I knew what I needed to do. Despite telling Irene it was a bad idea to think about going to the ballroom, I had little choice. I couldn't pass up an opportunity to talk to my mother, even if it meant risking my reputation and my father's. "I want to talk to her, Lewis."

"I'll try to make that hap—"

"Tonight," I said, quietly. "At the Coliseum."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not. It might be my only opportunity, and I need to take it. If she leaves before I can speak to her, I could lose the chance forever."

"There are too many risks."

I knew the risks, but I had to try to convince him. "It's a ballroom. Hundreds of people go there every night to dance."

"Not Reverend Baldwin's daughter."

"You'll go with me, right? You'll protect me if something goes wrong?"

He was quiet for a few seconds, and then he said, "You'll go whether I'm there or not, won't you?"

"Yes."

He growled. "Fine. I'll pick you up at eight."

"I'll have Irene with me."

"Irene?"

"My cousin, from Iowa. You remember her, don't you?"

"Vaguely. But it doesn't matter. I'll pick both of you up at eight."

Nerves fluttered through my stomach as I thought about going to the Coliseum. I didn't want to hurt my father's reputation, but if Andrew and Thomas hadn't done it yet, maybe the kind of people who frequented ballrooms and nightclubs didn't care. The whole generation had a live-and-let-live attitude, so maybe I would be safe.

"Thank you, Lewis. We'll see you tonight."

As I hung up the phone, Mother entered the dining room. She carried a tea tray and wore a bright smile. "I couldn't help but overhear the last part of your conversation, dear." Her eyes were shining. "Is Lewis coming to call tonight?"

How much had she heard? If her pleasant demeanor was an indication, it hadn't been much. "He wanted to take me out tonight," I said, "but I told him Irene is here, so he agreed to take her along."

"Oh?" Her eyebrows dipped together. "I hope he's not taking you somewhere unpleasant."

"No. Of course not." I wasn't lying, but it still felt like I was being dishonest. I couldn't tell her where Lewis was taking us, and I hoped she wouldn't ask. "Shall I get Irene for tea?"

"Yes, please." She moved into the parlor as I went past her up the stairs to tell Irene where we were going tonight.

No doubt she'd be surprised—and excited.

I was so nervous that evening, I didn't eat a thing at supper. My palms were clammy, and my stomach was in knots. A headache had begun to form behind my eyes, and I just wanted to get the whole thing over with. I was afraid both that my life would change irrevocably after I spoke to Annie and that it wouldn't change at all. I'd never felt so torn between the past and the future.

My entire life, I'd been trying to protect my father and his ministry, but tonight, I was risking it all to speak to Annie. I just prayed I wouldn't be recognized.

"You two look lovely," Mother said as we came downstairs after changing into evening gowns. "I hope you'll have fun with Lewis."

Guilt ate at me as I tried to smile.

Father was in his office, writing sermon notes for the three evenings he planned to preach during his tent meetings. He'd been advertising it all over the state of Minnesota and into northern Iowa, western Wisconsin, and the eastern parts of the Dakotas. It would be the biggest tent revival of his career, if everything went as planned. But he never wavered, showed anxiety, or worried that people wouldn't show up. Maybe his unfailing faith in God—and in his calling—was the very thing that attracted people to him. If he didn't believe it would be a success, then he'd never attempt to hold such a large gathering.

Was that the answer to my own fears and distance from God? If I believed I was cursed by my ancestor, and that I didn't have a choice in the matter, I lived as if I was defeated. But perhaps, as Marcus had pointed out, I wasn't cursed. And if I believed that, then it would affect the decisions I made and the way I lived. I could have victory, instead of defeat. It brought to my mind a passage from the book of Deuteronomy that said God had set before the Israelites life and death, blessing and cursing, and He had instructed them to choose life, that they and their descendants would live.

It was a weighty thing to consider—and something I would tuck away to ponder later, when I wasn't concentrating on talking to Annie.

Outside, the daylight was dimming, and the late August night was fast approaching. I was wearing an evening gown we had purchased in Paris on one of our last days. Since we stayed longer than planned, we had the opportunity to do a little shopping. Mother had splurged to purchase the gown for me, and this was my first opportunity to wear it. The cream-colored silk flowed from a dropped waist in many delicate layers to the hem. It had a multicolored floral design printed on it and a gold belt around the waist. What had surprised me the most was that it was sleeveless, something that Mother appeared to be overlooking tonight.

Lewis pulled up to the curb as I grabbed my purse and glanced in the hall mirror one last time. Irene looked stunning in a shimmering gold dress, made of tulle and silk, with an equally elaborate gold headdress. I had chosen a simple pearl headband, and Irene had styled my brown hair into a roll at the back. It felt nice to dress up, but I couldn't help wishing that Marcus could see me like this. Elegant. Beautiful. Feminine.

Even though I tried to push thoughts of him aside while I was focused on Annie and my life in 1927, the truth was that he was always on my mind. I only had a few more days with him before we'd part ways in Charleston, and I'd never see him again. As much as I didn't want to think about it, I could think of little else.

Lewis knocked on the front door, and I took a deep breath, turning away from the mirror—and my heartbreaking thoughts of Marcus—to face him.

Mother opened the door, giving me the chance to admire Lewis in his tuxedo. He looked handsome, with a black tie and white waistcoat, his hair smoothed back, and his face freshly shaved.

"How nice you look," Mother said to him. "The girls have been getting ready for hours."

Lewis glanced up and admiration shone in his blue-eyed gaze as he smiled at me. "You look lovely, Caroline."

"Thank you."

"And do you remember our niece, Miss Irene Baldwin?" Mother asked Lewis. "She visited here when all of you were younger."

Lewis stepped over the threshold and into the foyer as Irene moved out from behind me.

He seemed surprised at the sight of her and said, "It's nice to see you again, Miss Baldwin."

They shook hands, and Irene's cheeks blossomed with color, whether from excitement or the appearance of our handsome escort I wasn't sure. "Please, call me Irene. How kind of you to offer to take me along tonight."

Lewis only smiled and tossed me a side glance. He hadn't really offered to take us. I had insisted.

Father exited his office in time to greet Lewis and say, "Don't stay out too late."

"We won't," I promised as I tried to hurry Irene and Lewis out of the house. The less interaction we had with my parents, the better.

Lewis offered both of us an arm, and we walked down the sidewalk together.

"How many men can boast two pretty ladies on their arms?" he asked as he grinned from me to Irene. "I'll be the envy of every man at the Coliseum."

Irene smiled coyly, and I only shook my head at Lewis's flirtation.

It took us about fifteen minutes to get to the Coliseum on the corner of Lexington Parkway and University Avenue in Saint Paul. Irene and Lewis reminisced about the last time Irene had visited, each recounting stories the other had forgotten.

"How old were you at the time?" Lewis asked her.

Irene, who was sitting in the back seat, leaned forward to rest her arms on the front bench and said, "I was just fourteen."

"That's why you look so different." His charming smile shined brightly tonight. "You've done a lot of growing up since then."

Irene's pleasant laughter filled the car, but I was too anxious about my meeting with Annie to join in their banter.

The Coliseum Ballroom was enormous. The newspapers boasted that the 100-by-250-foot dance floor was the largest in the world. As we pulled into the massive parking lot, I was surprised to see so many vehicles on a Monday night. It was both nerve-racking and relieving. With so many people, I hoped I would just be another face in the crowd.

I was even more surprised when we stepped out of Lewis's Chevy and I recognized a couple waiting by the front door, presumably for us.

Thomas and Alice.

My brother leaned against the building, smoking a cigarette, with his arm around Alice.

"What took you so long?" he asked as he threw his cigarette butt onto the ground and smashed it with the toe of his boot.

I paused as Alice smiled at me. Her pregnancy was more evident under her loose evening gown. "Hello, Caroline."

My anxiety rose another notch as I turned to Lewis. "Why did you tell them we were coming?"

"We needed backup," Lewis said as he opened the door into the Coliseum. "If something goes wrong, I want a trusted friend here to help."

"I don't even understand why you're here," Thomas said to me, frustration in his voice. "Lewis won't tell me." He paused and waited for me to tell him, but when I didn't, he said, "After the stunt you pulled a few weeks ago at Nina's, I shouldn't be surprised. Apparently, we all have secrets we're keeping from Mother and Father."

"I'm not keeping secre—" I paused, because I was keeping secrets. "Thomas, you remember Irene."

"Of course I do." He nodded at our cousin. "Irene, this is my girlfriend, Alice Pierce."

"How do you do?" Irene asked as she shook Alice's hand, struggling to keep the surprise off her face as she dropped her gaze to Alice's midsection.

I would have a lot of explaining to do to Irene.

"Shall we?" Lewis asked as he held the door open.

The five of us entered the building, but as I passed Lewis, I asked, "Do you have any other surprises for me tonight?"

He shrugged and smiled. "I hope not."

After Lewis paid for our entrance, we passed through the vestibule and entered the dance floor. The rounded ceiling was impos sibly high, with a stage at one end under a brick arch. Glimmering gold curtains at the back of the stage highlighted a big band, elaborate chandeliers, and two globe lamps on either side.

The room was full of people. Some were sitting at tables on the perimeter of the room, while others were dancing on the wood dance floor. Every imaginable color of gown was present, and most of the men were wearing tuxedos or evening suits. Waiters moved around the room with trays of ice, glasses, and what looked like ginger ale. As they were set on the tables, I saw more than one person pull a flask from their jacket pocket to mix with the ginger ale.

"Why don't the police do something about the alcohol?" I asked Lewis and Thomas.

Lewis shrugged. "The owner pays the police department to look the other way."

Thomas had his arm around Alice as we found a table, and the pair sat close. It was clear they were crazy about each other, but Alice still looked uncomfortable—probably because she thought this was the first time I was learning about their relationship.

"I love to dance," Irene said as she took a seat. "And this foxtrot is one of my favorites."

Lewis grinned, taking the hint. "Would you like to dance, Irene?"

She was out of her seat before he finished his sentence.

"How about you?" Thomas asked Alice, smiling at her. "Want to cut a rug, sweetheart?" Alice nodded, and as they left the table, Thomas said to me, "Don't do anything stupid."

I wanted to make a face at my older brother and remind him that I wasn't the one doing anything foolish. He was escorting our brother's ex-mistress onto the dance floor, several months pregnant.

Their departure gave me the opportunity to study the faces of the women in attendance. There were at least a hundred. Some were sitting in the shadows, and some were on the dance floor, crowded by others.

How was I supposed to find Annie here? The best vantage point would be from the stage at the front of the room, but the only way—

My thoughts stilled. If I could get on the stage, and perhaps sing with the band, I could study the faces of the women on the dance floor. It would give me the best opportunity to find Annie.

A man approached our table, and it was clear he was coming to ask me to dance, so I quickly stood and went in the opposite direction toward the bar, not allowing myself to contemplate what I was about to do.

It took me several minutes to get an audience with the owner, and when I asked him if Ernest Hemingway had sent him a letter of introduction, he didn't even hesitate.

"Sure did! Come on. I was in the war with Ernie. Any friend of his is a friend of mine. Let's get you on stage."

He didn't give me much time to regret my decision as he led me through the crowd toward the front of the ballroom. There, he chatted with the band director, and then he told me I was up next.

I continued to scan the crowd, not certain what Annie looked like, but searching for an older woman who had some of my features. If the owner of the grocery store in Lakeville was surprised by my appearance, I assumed Annie and I shared the same likeness.

"Miss Reed?" the owner said. "The band is ready for you."

Mr. Hemingway had apparently given him my alias, which I appreciated.

I was taking a chance that people could see and recognize me, but the room was dim, and I doubted they would pay close attention—especially when the band leader introduced me as Miss Reed.

Though I wasn't sure what Lewis, Thomas, or Irene would think.

"We have a special guest singer tonight," the band leader said into the microphone. "Direct from Paris, France, Miss Reed."

Paris, France? I wasn't going to correct him as I walked across the stage. Better to let people think I was from another country.

Several people looked my way, but many of them continued to visit around the room.

I caught Lewis's eye from the table where we'd been sitting. His shocked expression turned to irritation, so I simply shrugged.

And then I began my search for Annie in earnest. The vantage point I had was perfect, as I had suspected. The lights from the stage lit up the faces of those on the dance floor.

When the band began to play "It Had to Be You," I didn't feel nervous. The lyrics slipped out effortlessly. I had come a long way since the Dingo Bar in Paris. I no longer worried about what people thought about my singing and simply enjoyed the song.

As I scanned the dancers' faces, most of them paused to listen and watch.

A woman at the back of the dance floor shifted, allowing me to see her clearly. I almost tripped over my words as I continued to sing. She had dark hair and eyes, and she looked like an older version of me. She was standing next to a man, but I barely glanced at him, since I was so intent upon studying the woman.

She was looking back at me, but if she recognized me, she didn't show any indication. Though why would she? If it was Annie, she would have no idea that she had a time-crossing daughter occupying the same life as her.

My heart beat so hard, I struggled to breathe. The ballroom filled with applause as I finished, and when the band leader asked me for an encore, I had to refuse. I had completed the task, and I needed to speak to the woman I suspected was Annie.

As I stepped off the stage, Lewis was waiting for me.

"What are you doing?" he asked quietly. "Do you want everyone in here to recognize you?"

"I saw her," I said, trying to look over his shoulder. "She's at the back of the room." I started moving in that direction.

People tried to stop me and compliment my singing. I didn't want to be rude, so I thanked them and kept moving deeper into the crowd.

The band began another song, and people started to dance again.

When I got to the back of the dance floor, where I had seen Annie, she was gone.

Disappointment and despair gripped me as I frantically searched for her.

Lewis stayed close to me as we walked around the huge room. Some of the men sitting in dark corners looked dangerous, and I stayed clear of them. Smoke curled around several tables, choking me. I couldn't imagine what my parents would say if they smelled cigarette smoke on Irene and me.

Annie wasn't at any of the tables, at the bar, or even in line for the ladies' room.

Finally, Lewis grabbed my hand, causing me to stop.

"I think you lost her," he said.

"She couldn't have gone far." I tried pulling my hand away to keep looking, but he wouldn't let me go.

"I'll ask around," he said, drawing me closer to him. "Maybe someone talked to her and knows where she's staying."

Tears of disappointment threatened as I tried in vain to see her in the crowd. "I was so close."

He put his hand under my chin to draw my gaze to his face. "I'll find her, Carrie. I promise."

Bitterness took hold as I wiped impatiently at a tear that fell. "Why won't God let me talk to her?"

"Because it's obviously not the right time. Trust His plan."

"I want to, but I also know that He doesn't like when we sit back and do nothing."

He lowered his hand, his expression incredulous. "You're not sitting back and doing nothing. You escaped a domineering grandfather to join a ship to look for her in the Caribbean. Then, you were kidnapped by pirates before you made it to Nassau where you learned she had died. After that, you risked everything to tell me the truth before traipsing across the county to a grocery store to learn that she was in Saint Paul, and you came to a ballroom, and sang on a stage, to see her in a crowd. You are doing everything you can to find Annie Barker."

I let out a breath and shook my head. "If anyone heard you saying those things, they'd think you had lost your mind."

His grin was wide when he said, "Chasing you as you chase her has left me feeling like that from time to time."

I chuckled, trying not to feel so disappointed.

"Come on," he said. "It's been a long time since you danced with me."

"Have I ever danced with you?"

"Exactly."

He led me onto the dance floor and twirled me around to the new dance called the Lindy Hop, inspired by Lindbergh's hop over the Atlantic.

It felt good to laugh with him—but it didn't make me forget the pain of disappointment at losing Annie again, or that I would soon be returning to Charleston in my other life.