Secret Sisters

by Joy Callaway

  I departed the room and found Mary waiting in the hallway. She ran her fingers along the spine of the crow’s feather shooting from the hat in her hand.

  “What’re you doing here?” I said. “Aren’t you going to be late for your organ course?” Every student of the conservatory of music had to have at least a rudimentary knowledge of organ, and the only organ on campus was in the chapel, at least a ten-minute walk away.

  She shrugged.

  “Probably so, but Professor Martin is only having us listen to some organist from Maryland play in the chapel today, so I signed the attendance log early and came here. I’ll sneak into the chapel after I tell you what I came to say. Professor Martin won’t be the wiser.”

  “We could have spoken afterward,” I said. “There was no need for you to risk trouble.”

  “Yes there was. This matter is of utmost importance after what transpired in the board room,” she said, walking with me as I made my way down the hall. “I think I’ve found a new place to meet. It’ll require us to be incredibly careful, but—”

  “We’ll not keep it up,” I whispered. “I’m dissolving Beta Xi Beta. We tried, but we failed. You heard President Wilson. If we continue, we’ll be expelled. I’m not willing to risk everything on an idea.” I felt Mary twitch away from me, but I couldn’t look at her. I knew what I’d see—almond eyes tapered like a hawk, mouth pinched in a manner that would force me to reconsider, and I couldn’t. She’d grown up with a woman whose demonstrations and work for women’s rights put both herself and Mary in peril daily. For Mary’s mother, Judith, it was worth it. She was fighting to reform the way generations of women were treated. We were campaigning for a group that, even if we did succeed, might not last another class, let alone to our daughters’ possible attendance.

  “Stop being such a coward. You know how important this is for the future of Whitsitt women. We cannot continue to allow them to treat us as though we’re lesser. We have a plan. James will come through for us and we’ll start recruitment, we’ll—”

  “When I graduate and become a physician, it won’t matter,” I interrupted, stopping in the middle of the hallway. I felt cold and selfish, as though I’d traded my future for the happiness of my friends. “All of us will earn our diplomas. I’ll not let the fraternity stand in the way of that. I’ll not have us forced into menial lives because we chose to defy the board. It was a lovely idea, but it’s over.”

  “You don’t have to participate,” she said quietly, “but you’re not going to be the one to make that decision. It’s been my dream as much as yours and I’ll see it through. We will continue.” She spun away from me, paced to the stairwell, and disappeared. I bit my bottom lip to keep it from trembling and reminded myself that I was doing the right thing.

  14

  January 23, 1892

  Lily grasped a clump of my hair, forced a pin around it, and thrust it across my scalp. The silver point prodded into my skin and I winced, looking up from the new Boston Medical and Surgical Journal.

  “Stay still,” she said. “Unless you want to be late.” She appraised the mass of hair swirled loosely at the top of my head in a style identical to hers.

  “No, I don’t. Of course I don’t,” I said, roused from my thoughts. I’d been scanning a new article on the dangers of overlooking lead poisoning as a factor in nerve disease, while really thinking of Will and Grant. I hadn’t seen either of them in several days and couldn’t help but wonder if what had transpired between Will and me had altered Grant’s affection. I knew I shouldn’t care, but my feelings for Grant had deepened regardless of my intentions. I’d been fretting about my relationship with Will, too. Thinking of him at all made me feel uncomfortable and I doubted he’d avoided the feeling—which would explain his distance. He’d come to Professor Fredericks’s class late and quickly departed at the conclusion, before I could make my way to the back of the room.

  I’d told Lily about Will’s embrace straightaway, that he’d only done it in an attempt to make Miss Cable jealous. I couldn’t keep hiding things from her hoping that I could somehow revert back to the past and change them. She’d laughed, saying she’d known she was right about Will loving me—even though his gesture hadn’t at all been about us—but I could tell in her expression that she was disappointed. Even so, she’d received a note from Will yesterday asking her to accompany him to Iota Gamma’s Saint Valentine’s Bird Party. Traditionally, it was a romantic event meant to symbolize a bird’s everlasting commitment to his mate, although in true Iota fashion, it was taken much less seriously, mostly used as an excuse to embarrass the pledges. Lily hadn’t answered his note straight away, insisting that he was only asking because I was taken. But I wasn’t. Grant hadn’t asked me yet, and I wasn’t convinced he was going to.

  “He’s been busy, Beth. He’ll ask. The law students have had exams this week. The library was teeming with them last night after I met with Mary and Katherine,” Lily said, as though she’d read my mind. Her blue eyes squinted as she took a final section of hair from the nape of my neck and pinned it up. “Are you sure you’ll not consider rejoining the fraternity you started?”

  I shook my head. She hadn’t argued with me when I’d told her that I wasn’t planning to continue on, but she’d met the news with silence, before diverting her attention to the composition book in her hand. I’d been confused by her reaction. I’d assumed that she’d left the board room during the hearing because she was afraid of getting caught—a sign that she’d agree with my abandoning the fraternity—but she later mentioned that she’d only stepped out because she didn’t want to risk being late for class.

  “Very well. I’m finished,” Lily said as she stepped away from me, head cocked to the side as she looked at our reflections in the mirror. She was beautiful. Her pale skin had always been flawless, but tonight it looked as though her cheeks had been brushed with crushed rose petals.

  “Thank you for going with me tonight. It’s not exactly your field of study, I know,” I told her.

  Elizabeth Blackwell was making a presentation to a group of Eastern Star suffragists in Green Oaks. Mary’s mother had organized it and Mary had invited me, knowing how enthralled I was with the famous doctor.

  “Of course,” Lily said. “You’ll likely be the only other physician there anyway. Everyone else wants to hear her because she’s a pioneer.” She glanced at herself in the mirror. “Do I look all right?”

  She was wearing a new dress she’d been working on for a month, made of pieces of chine silk of variegated colors. It was her best work by far, constructed from nearly a dozen old costumes.

  “You’re stunning,” I told her sincerely.

  She shook her head.

  “What did I do to deserve a friend who will resort to lying when I need reassurance?”

  I laughed, pointing to the mirror.

  “You know I’m not exaggerating. Look at yourself.”

  “I can’t with you standing beside me. You’re only the most gorgeous, sought after woman at Whitsitt,” she said, smiling. “I do believe you’ve stolen the title from that divinity girl, Luetta Grace.”

  I doubted that. Perhaps I’d won the title of the most gossiped-about girl on campus. It had only taken a few hours before it seemed that every student knew about my proposal—not that anyone had actually said anything to my face, but the looks had told me all I needed to know.

  “And I know you haven’t asked, but I can tell you’re wondering,” Lily continued. “I haven’t decided whether I’m going to accept Will’s offer or not. I find it quite valiant of him, but I know he’s only asking because he supposes you’ll be there with Grant and you’d like my company.” She lifted her arm to silence me before I could argue. “I wasn’t fishing for a response. I was merely thinking out loud.”

  “I think you should go,” I said.

  She leaned down and untucked a wayward seam of the ivory lace yoke attached to my bodice. My father had sent the costume from Chicago a week ago. �
��For as slippery a man as you make him out to be, your father has fine taste in fashion.” I shook my head.

  “It’s not him. It’s Vera . . . his wife,” I said. From the moment she’d married my father, at least half of his pay had been invested in fashions—never mind the fact that we lived in a modest middle-class neighborhood where the average woman likely acquired no more than a single new dress each season. That’s why I hadn’t worn it yet. Each time I saw the box at the bottom of my armoire, I saw her face scowling at me from flouncy collars of pleated chiffon.

  “Either way, it makes you look as beautiful as a painting,” Lily said. She grasped a bit of my skirt—light green-blue silk decorated with olive green velvet flowers. “The color brings out your eyes.”

  I snorted.

  “My eyes are gray,” I said. “About as beautiful as flint. Let’s hope they don’t cross. I might start a fire.”

  * * *

  By the time I checked in with Miss Zephaniah—something I was required to do three times each day since the board meeting—and we made our way to the foyer, it was pouring. Lily edged the door open, squinting past the porch in the darkness to see if the coach had arrived. The cold crept in, smacking my cheeks, and I huddled into my coat, wondering how it wasn’t snowing.

  “Not here yet,” she announced loudly, though I could barely hear her over the downpour. It sounded like the dormitory had been swept beneath a waterfall. A group of four girls, completely drenched, suddenly burst through the door, all of them laughing.

  One of them smiled at me and then turned back to her friends.

  “I haven’t been this soaked since the coach’s wheel went flat after our first welcome dinner at the church. We had to get out and wait in the rain while it was repaired. Remember?”

  They kept on down the hall, laughing and reminiscing as they made their way to the gathering room. Their closeness stung so soon after I’d decided to withdraw from my sisters. I forced the thought of the fraternity out of my mind. I’d still have Mary and Lily and Katherine regardless. Just because I wasn’t a part of Beta Xi Beta didn’t mean they’d abandon me. But they’d have new memories. Memories I wouldn’t share.

  “Perhaps they’re just delayed on account of the weather,” I said, hoping conversation would distract me from my melancholy.

  “Or maybe Mary forgot to call a driver for us.” Lily sighed. “We should have requested a coach from the school instead.”

  “It’ll be here,” I promised her, glancing at the grandfather clock. Seven-fifty. The talk began at eight and it would take us at least ten minutes to get out of Whitsitt and into Green Oaks.

  “Come on,” Lily said, yanking my arm. “He’s here.”

  I pulled the collar of my coat over my head in an attempt to shield my face from the rain. The last snow had mostly melted, only present in some spots where the sun never hit. The excess water made the ground spongy, absorbing the heels of my kid leather boots with each step.

  “I hope Doctor Blackwell doesn’t mind that I look like I’ve come from a swim,” I said, depositing myself in the coach. My cloak would have to be cleaned. Sediment lined the hem and rose upward, clinging to the damp in haphazard waves that lightened at my shins.

  “She’s a doctor, not a fashion designer,” said Lily, whose dress was still immaculate, but hair was drenched. Long drips of water trickled down her face, and she pushed the saturated tendrils back with her palm.

  “Have you thought of what you’ll say to her?” Lily asked. “You’ve wanted to meet her for years.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. The rain beat hard on the top of the coach. “I suppose I never thought I’d have the chance.”

  I tucked my legs against the bench seat, feeling the chill of the wet fabric on my skin. At once, nerves eclipsed my excitement. I couldn’t face her. I was going to be late and I looked like a mop in a dirty bucket. She deserved better than my worst.

  “I can’t do it,” I said. “Signal him to turn around, will you?”

  Lily laughed as the coach careened right.

  “Don’t be silly. We’re almost there.”

  I looked out the window, but couldn’t see a thing through the curtain of rain. It had been at least five minutes, more than enough time for us to reach the row of three street lights along Whitsitt’s Main Street, but I hadn’t caught a glimmer. The coach slowed and I edged closer to the window, where I could see that we were passing under a stone arch.

  “This isn’t the way to Green Oaks,” I said, unease prickling my skin. “We’re going the wrong direction. We’re going to be late.”

  “No we’re not,” she said, blue eyes glistening with mischief. “Doctor Blackwell has been . . . delayed.”

  Before I could ask what she meant, the coach shook to a halt.

  “Are we stuck?”

  “No,” Lily said. “Come on.” I remained seated as she opened the door and reached back for me. An enormous white clapboard house stood next to us, seeming to materialize like an apparition in the dim.

  “Where are we?”

  “Patrick Everett’s old estate.”

  All of the windows were dark and the white paint was peeling. The house looked haunted. The wind howled through the open door of the coach, blowing stray droplets of rain inside. I didn’t move.

  “Why are we here? I don’t want to miss hearing Doctor Blackwell.”

  “Doctor Blackwell isn’t coming,” she said. “She never was. Now, come with me.”

  She walked out into the rain, but I remained, refusing to budge until she told me the reason she’d brought me here. As she turned back and called my name, something altered my stubbornness. I’d have to trust her. It was always my inclination to refuse to cooperate unless the idea was mine. As much as I tried to fight it, at times, I failed, and my friendships suffered.

  “Wait,” I called to her, not bothering to shield my head this time as I exited the coach. Wind ripped through my hair, tearing it from the pins as drops pelted my face. I lifted my skirts to my ankles as we hastened around the side of the house, which had a sagging wide front porch. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that some of the windows were broken. I stopped.

  “What’re you doing?” Lily yelled over the roar of the wind and the scrape of dry tree branches against the slate roof. There was no moon tonight. The clouds had covered it, and I could only make out Lily’s silhouette in front of me.

  “Am I going to die?” I asked her, only half-joking. Lily huffed and yanked me forward, finally leading me around that back of the house and up the steps of a small porch looking out on a crumbling brick carriage house and a vacant field. I wiped the water from my face and hazarded a glance through the windows, noticing a tiny flicker of light coming from a center room. Lily stopped in front of the door, knocked twice, tapped four times, and rolled her knuckles.

  “No.” I whirled around, anger racing through my veins. “I can’t believe you tricked me into attending a meeting. I’m going back to Everett Hall. I told you that I was finished with Beta Xi Beta and I meant it.”

  “Beth, wait,” Lily said, but I didn’t stop as I made my way down the porch steps. Rain poured over me, and I squinted down at my boots. My chest smashed into something, and I stumbled back, meeting the face of a man who laughed and lifted a hand to shield his doe-like eyes from the rain.

  “Apologies,” he said. He looked familiar.

  “Where do you think you’re going, Beth?” Mary’s voice rang out and I turned around looking for her.

  “I told you that I didn’t want any part of this,” I said as she emerged from behind the man I’d just collided with. If Miss Zephaniah had had me followed—something she’d threatened to do after President Wilson had demanded that she keep a closer eye on me—they’d know that we weren’t attending a talk but were sneaking away to an illicit fraternity meeting . . . and utilizing the private property of one of our school’s founders to do it.

  “Yes, you do. You fought for his fraternity to the point of e
xpulsion,” Mary declared. Water drizzled over her brimless black hat, plastering her short bangs to her forehead. Her eyelashes gleamed in the starlight, frozen in the chill. “I know this is still your dream. You’re just scared. I won’t let you give it up.”

  She was right. I wanted more than anything to fight harder, to show President Wilson that he couldn’t stifle us, but I couldn’t risk it again.

  “You’ll have to,” I said. “You don’t have a choice.”

  “No. If we’re found out, I’ll say that we forced your involvement,” she said with a shrug. “It’s the truth.”

  “They wouldn’t believe it. And what are we doing here anyway? Who’s that?” I asked as I gestured to the man behind her. He was staring at the sky, top hat clenched in one hand while the rain drenched him.

  “Katherine’s brother, Mr. Sanderson,” she said, leaning in close to my ear. “He’s as handsome as a dream, isn’t he? And, if you come in, I’ll tell you why we’re here.” Her breath reeked of alcohol, a cocktail of sweet-sour and oak.

  I shook my head, glancing from Mr. Sanderson to Mary and back again, wondering how much rye they’d consumed between them.

  “Do reconsider, Beth. You’re already here. You’ll have to walk otherwise. The coaches aren’t due back until nine-thirty,” she told me, nodding toward the drive, which was vacant.

  I sighed.

  “Very well. I’ll come in. But I’m not going to change my mind.”

  Mary smiled and whirled on her heel, only to stumble over her brocaded black skirt. I lunged for her, righting her just in time to keep her from plunging into the mud.

  “Thank you, Beth. Come along, Mr. Sanderson,” she called.

  “How much rye did you and Mr. Sanderson have before you got here?” I asked, not bothering to lower my voice. I couldn’t hear her laugh over the rain, but watched her smile as Mr. Sanderson sprinted up to the porch, taking the stairs two at a time.