Chapter 16

The next morning Nora dressed in a clean and crisply ironed shirtwaist and her best skirt, but no long johns, and put on her

normal work shoes in spite of the cold.

She didn't know quite what to expect and she didn't want to appear too scruffy for the actress. She'd brushed her hair to

a shine and carefully plaited it, then rolled it into a coronet at the back of her head. It was the best she could do. To

her mind, she looked very professional.

She brushed her only coat, and set out for McKim, Mead, and White.

Mr.White had not yet arrived so she took her place at her drafting table to wait. Fergus nodded when she walked in. As she

walked past Collin Nast's table, he glanced up. "Heard you got a date with the boss," he said under his breath.

Nora ignored him, just slid onto her stool and began to gather up the things she would need. At ten, Mr.White stuck his head

in the door, lifted his chin. Nora grabbed her coat and, double-checking her pockets, hurried to meet him.

"Eh, Bromley. Ready?"

She nodded and they took the elevator down to the street where a long red automobile sat at the curb. Nora hesitated when

the chauffeur opened the back door.

"Well, get in, we don't have all day."

Nora swallowed. "I—"

"Let me help you, miss." The chauffeur took her elbow and practically shoveled her into the back. She scrambled to the far side of the lush leather cushion. She'd never been in an automobile before. Even the hansom cabs she and George sometimes took from the club site to the office were horse-drawn.

Mr.White climbed in beside her.

The engine cranked up, and, with a jerk that almost sent Nora flying, the automobile shot forward. Nora gripped her hands

together as she tried not to imagine all the horrors that could happen on their way to Irving Place.

When they reached their destination a few minutes later—a red-brick three-storied corner house with white cornices and painted

iron railings—Nora's fingers were white-knuckled. She climbed out of the auto and stood with quaking knees while Mr. White

consulted with his driver.

Then Mr.White ushered her up the steps and rang the doorbell. The door was immediately opened by a young parlormaid.

"Morning, Mildred. MissMarbury and Miss de Wolfe are expecting us."

"Yes, sir, they're in the dining room and ask that you join them there."

"Excellent." He shrugged out of his coat and handed it and his hat to the maid. Nora barely had time to unbutton hers before

it, too, was whisked away, and Mr.White gestured for Nora to precede him, saying, "Bessie makes the best Turkish coffee in

town."

Nora walked dutifully ahead but came to a stop in the archway of the most amazing room she had ever seen. Not the dark wainscoting

or chair rails of normal dining rooms, no heavy mahogany table or china cabinets. All the woodwork, including the doors, was

painted white like confectionary icing around green-striped walls. Fresh flowers adorned a delicate painted sideboard.

Two women sat at opposite ends of a white table.

The lady nearest them looked over her shoulder and lifted a delicate hand. "Stanny, it's been ages."

White strode over and kissed her outstretched hand. She hadn't even bothered to stand. She had to be Miss de Wolfe.

The woman at the far end was as stout and substantial as her companion was petite and fairylike.

Nora remembered her from the day the ladies had visited the site with Mrs.Harriman. MissMarbury.

"Sit yourself down, Stanny. MissBromley, do sit down. Have you breakfasted? Coffee? Tea?"

White pulled out a chair for Nora to sit, which she did; no one except George had ever done that, and there was an awkward

moment when nothing happened since she didn't know quite how to maneuver the chair back to the table.

"Heavens, Stanny," MissMarbury said. "Leave the girl alone. She's perfectly capable of sitting down without your assistance.

Welcome to our little house, my dear. I hope this will be the beginning of an excellent solution to the Colony Club. Don't

you agree, Elsie?"

"Indeed," Miss de Wolfe said. "Stanny says you're quite the thing, Miss...?" She lifted her eyebrows at Mr. White, who

had poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the table.

"Uh, Bromley, Nora Bromley."

Nora ticked a smile at Miss de Wolfe.

"MissBromley. I'm sure we'll get along famously."

Nora squeezed out another smile; it hurt her cheeks. Surely they hadn't turned over the finishing of the Colony Club to this

otherworldly creature.

"I'm certain you will," White said, half charm, half ultimatum.

"You know, my dear, Elsie designed this room," said MissMarbury from her other side.

Nora's mouth was dry, but she managed, "It's..." The furniture was so light that it looked like it might float away except

for the cloths and cushions that held it down. Light filtered into every corner.

"It is indeed," Miss Marbury continued as if she knew exactly what Nora was thinking. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I must get back to work. Enjoy yourselves."

She pushed her chair back and rose ponderously to her feet. She was wearing a wool morning dress with a white collar that

reminded Nora of one of the teachers at the School of Applied Design. It looked incongruous in comparison to Miss de Wolfe,

who managed to perch daintily on the straight-back dining chair like a nymph in one of the paintings at a museum.

"Yes, and we must work, too," Miss de Wolfe echoed and wafted from her chair. "I've prepared a place in the sunporch where

we can set up. Stanny, bring your coffee. MissBromley and I have a busy morning ahead." She held out her hand and Nora sprang

from her chair. Mr.White complained but he followed, bringing his coffee and snatching a piece of toast from the rack on

his way past.

The sunporch was even more amazing than the dining room. Painted bright yellow with the same white-painted woodwork, with

plush wicker chairs and love seats upholstered in fabric patterned with enormous chintz roses. Nora had never even imagined

such a place.

Miss de Wolfe swept across the room to a wicker table where pencils, pastels, and several paper sketchbooks had been set out.

Two delicate wicker tea chairs sat side by side facing the sunlight.

Nora tried to imagine her mother sitting here doing the mending, Rina with her schoolbooks. The patients at her hospital...

She could see them, and it made her smile.

"So you like my little hideaway?"

"Very much," said Nora.

"It took some time for others to get used to. One doesn't expect an English cottage in a New York row house."

Mr. White chuckled, which startled Nora. This was a differ ent side of the usually gruff man she had come to expect. "You do have a way with color, Elsie, my love."

Elsie trilled a laugh. "I've been studying the blueprints that Stanny sent over, but I confess, I can't make hide nor hair

of them. Which lines are walls and which aren't."

Nora's momentary euphoria plummeted and crashed.

White stepped aside and, taking her cue, Nora went to stand beside Miss de Wolfe at the table.

"For instance, what are these lines here?"

Since Mr.White didn't volunteer an answer, Nora said that it was the first-floor entrance.

"Are these windows or doors?" Miss de Wolfe pointed to the short lines along the exterior wall.

"Windows. You can tell because there is a bar across the bottom. Doors are open."

"How clever."

"Yes," Nora said, determined to show patience.

"And I do know that the rectangles are the various rooms."

Nora nodded. Not always, but she would save that for another day. "All the rooms are labeled. The veranda, the parlor, the

tearoom. These short lines in the middle are the stairs to the basement and to the other floors. This long narrow space is

where the lavatories will be. And a second staircase."

"The strangers room," Miss de Wolfe said. "How mysterious. Shall we make it a seraglio?" She flashed a smile to Mr.White,

who smiled in return.

"It's because it's a women's club and the strangers room is where you can meet friends who are not members," Nora explained.

She almost added "like in a boardinghouse or women's hotel," but caught herself just in time. She doubted if Miss de Wolfe

had ever seen the inside of such humble living environs.

"This little box at the top corner gives the basic dimensions. There are also accompanying spec sheets." Nora riffled through the pages on the table and found the sheets for the first floor. "These give specific measurements so that all interior additions fit within the specified parameters."

"You're so clever. I remember your design from the awards ceremony. Everyone was very impressed." The actress turned with

a flourish. "Oh, Stanny, she's perfect." Just as quickly she turned back to Nora. "You can draw?"

"Yes."

"She's excellent," White assured her. "You just tell her what you want and she'll make it happen."

It was a preposterous thing to say. Nora couldn't make impossible things possible. And she wasn't certain that Miss de Wolfe

even understood the notion of measurements. But she held her tongue, determined to make the best of the situation. There would

be time to explain this later. Miss de Wolfe did have an eye for color and how to give a room a special feeling. Nora would

give her that. Time would tell if she could actually design the inside of an entire building.

"I have some ideas already." Miss de Wolfe reached for the large sketch pad.

Mr.White took the opportunity to quietly slip out of the room.

Good heavens, she really can't draw. Nora stared at the lopsided... urns? And were those boxes supposed to be mantels? There were several things that she couldn't

distinguish at all. This was going to be impossible. How would she ever translate these things to reality?

She listened mutely while Elsie de Wolfe explained what she had in mind, as she turned one page after another of drawings

that might as well be hieroglyphics.

"Don't look so stultified, my dear. Didn't Stanny tell you? I can't draw a lick, but I can see it in my mind. And I promise you my design will make the Colony Club the nonpareil among clubs. If they insist on seeing everything in advance, you'll just have to be my translator."

Two hours passed and Nora was bleary-eyed from sketching when Miss de Wolfe suddenly declared, "That's enough for today. I

have appointments at several antiques dealers and have to arrange for my buying trip. We'll need an office and a storage warehouse.

Bessie will absolutely have a fit if I bring one more objet d'art into the house. Tomorrow, same time? Ah, this is what I

was meant for, Nora."

Minutes later Nora was back on the street, disoriented and alone. She had no idea where she was or how to get back to the

drafting room or the club site, much less home. Which way was north? She'd lost all orientation in her frightening ride in

Mr.White's automobile.

The front door opened and she cringed. What would Miss de Wolfe ask of her now?

But it was MissMarbury, lumbering down the steps. "You'll have to forgive Elsie; her mind is so often in the clouds that

she forgets the little necessaries that make life work." She pressed some coins into Nora's hand. "Take a cab back to wherever

you need to be. As soon as the details are arranged with Mr.White, we'll talk about your per diem." With that, she bustled

back up the steps and shut the door.

Bemused, Nora chose a direction and walked until she came to a trolley stop where she was directed across the street for the

trip north. She decided to return to the architectural offices to report to Mr.White about their progress and perhaps he

would explain to her just exactly what her duties would be and how much time she should spend with Miss de Wolfe. Then she

would spend the rest of the afternoon deciphering her notes and turning Miss de Wolfe's designs into something recognizable.

But Mr.White wasn't in and neither was George. So Nora selected several sheets of paper and took them over to her drafting

table to begin—and wait.

She'd been so intent on remembering all the things that Miss de Wolfe had said during the morning that she was startled by

the snide remark from her tormentor, Collin Nast.

"Well, well, what have you and the boss been up to this morning? Has he finished with you already? Did he treat you to lunch?"

"What? Actually I haven't had lunch. I was too busy."

"I just bet you were."

It took Nora a second to understand what he was insinuating and she blushed hot.

"If he's finished with you, I might be interested. I'll even treat you to lunch."

"How dare—" Nora didn't get her sentence out before Fergus sprang from his stool and strode over to where Nast was sitting.

"Shut your filthy mouth, Nast."

"What are you so riled up for? I just asked her about lunch."

Fergus grabbed Nast by his lapels and yanked him off the stool. The stool fell back with a clatter.

"Fergus, no!" Nora grabbed his arm.

Fergus had pulled Nast up until the two men were face-to-face. " I know what you meant. The whole room heard it. And we won't stand for it. We're gentlemen here and if you can't be the same,

maybe you should rethink your career."

"Fortunately, you have no say in the matter," Nast spit back. "She should never have been given a place here; she's nothing

but trouble, as we've just witnessed."

"You're the trouble," said Fergus through gritted teeth, but he let go, adding a shove for good measure. Nast staggered, snatched

up the stool, and, after glaring at Fergus, straightened his collar and sat down.

Sorry , mouthed Nora.

Fergus just shook his head and went back to work.

But later, when most of the draftsmen were taking an afternoon break and Nora was on her way downstairs to catch the secretaries

up on her visit with "the actress," Fergus pulled her aside. His cheeks were flushed. "I'm sorry that you have to deal with

that oaf. Really, Bromley, most of the men here are perfectly accepting of women as architects. And gentlemen, to boot. It's

just a few closed-minded—"

"I know. Thanks for sticking up for me, but don't get yourself on Nast's bully list. I've dealt with guys like him all my

life. He doesn't frighten me."

"Good for you, but watch your back. No one likes him; he's a teller of tales. I guess what he lacks in talent he thinks he

can make up for by spying for the powers that be."

"I'll be careful."

"Look, Nora, I think you're doing groundbreaking work, and one day there will be women architects thick on the trees, and

it will be because of you and a few others, but that's only if you survive the journey."

Nora smiled. "Why, Fergus, how did you get so wise?"

"Huh?"

"That's exactly what my old professor said." And something she'd been in danger of forgetting. "Just don't let my battle make

it rougher for you."

"Nah. I, too, know how to handle guys like Nast. I suppose you're going down to take your break with the girls."

Nora nodded.

"Tell them hello for me."

Surprised, Nora said, "I certainly will."

All three secretaries were sitting at the lunchroom table when Nora walked in.

Sadie and Lavinia looked up expectantly, while Higgie stood up to pour Nora a cup of coffee.

"How did it go? What was she like? Is she as glamorous up close as she is on the stage?"

Nora held up both hands against their questions.

Higgie put a cup in front of her and slid the ever-present plate of biscuits toward her. "Give Nora time to catch her breath."

But she, too, sat down and looked expectantly at Nora.

"First of all, Fergus Finnegan said to say hello."

"He has a crush on Sadie," Lavinia said.

"He does not." Sadie blushed and slapped Lavinia's arm.

"See?" Lavinia said. "But enough about Fergie, tell us about Miss de Wolfe."

"Well..." Nora took a sip of coffee and put the mug on the table. "She's very beautiful... She's dainty, like a fairy-tale

princess. Sometimes. But then, I don't know, she gets all dramatic when she's describing what she sees in her head? I mean,

she's like..."

"An actress?" Sadie prompted.

Nora hadn't seen that many actresses, mainly the few times the Yiddish Theatre had put on plays in the park, none of which

Nora understood and whose actors didn't act at all like Miss de Wolfe. "I guess."

"What was she wearing?"

Nora shrugged. "A dress?"

"Ugh," moaned Sadie. "Was it gossamer and ribbons, or shiny and rustled when she walked, or was it like one of those Chinese

robes that you wrap around like a shawl?" Her eyes had grown wider with each suggestion, and they suddenly blinked. Breaking

Nora's astonishment.

"It was a dress; it had flowers on it. She seems partial to flowers. Big pink and yellow flowers. Her dress matched the room."

"Huh?"

"The room where we worked was painted yellow. Let's see, they were still at their coffee when we arrived and their dining room had green-striped wallpaper and the table and chairs were painted white. There were flowers in a big blue-and-white urn. It made me think of a picnic. The whole house was like being in a garden. It was beautiful."

Now Lavinia groaned. "But what about her ?"

"She was nice enough. The other lady was a bit gruff, and quite fat. They looked a little funny together, like Jack Sprat

and his wife. Except they are both ladies."

"So are you going to be working with her on the Colony Club?" asked Higgie.

"I don't really have a choice. She knows what she wants, but she can't illustrate any of it. Mr.White told me that's going

to be my job."

"Well, they all say upstairs that you are a remarkable draftsman," Higgie said.

"They do?"

"Well, George Douglas does," Lavinia said. "But I'm sure everyone else thinks so, too."

"Not everybody," Nora said, putting down the cookie she'd just picked up. "That Collin Nast was making all sorts of snide

comments to me when I returned. Fergus told him to shut up, then grabbed him by the collar."

"Bravo, Fergus," said Higgie. "That Nast fellow is so hateful. You keep clear of him if you can."

"I try, but he seems to go out of his way to attack me. And his desk is placed so that I have to pass him anytime I get up.

I just don't want to get Fergus in trouble because of me."

Sadie sighed. "Oh, no, that wouldn't be good at all."

Lavinia rolled her eyes and leaned on her elbows toward Nora. "Tell us more about Miss de Wolfe."

Nora told them all she could remember. But what she remembered most was the house and the way it was furnished. "Miss de Wolfe mostly talked about color and the importance of everything being placed so that it brought the maximum amount of serenity. ‘Because who wants to walk into an anxious room?'?"

"She said that?" asked Lavinia.

Nora nodded. She'd never thought about serenity in regard to a room. It was one of those words that thinkers used. But sitting

there in the lunchroom with the other three, she thought about her hospital and how the furnishings as well as the building

itself could lend serenity to the life of the patients. It was a good word, serenity . She would have to remember it.

After the break she took the elevator upstairs, thinking serenity , and rolling the word silently on her tongue, knowing full well that as soon as she passed by Collin Nast's drafting table,

her serenity would shatter.

She hadn't let on to Fergus and she hadn't mentioned to the secretaries just how disconcerting it had been. Was that what

they all thought? It was too humiliating. All she wanted to do was be an architect. There were plenty of jobs for everyone.

Why did it matter that she was a girl?

Why did men always have to spoil everything?