“Why should it be a bad omen?” Katherine asked.
Ryan made a face. “I had to leave England in a hurry after the queen was not amused about my satirical play about Her Majesty and Albert.” Then that brilliant smile flashed across his face. “I must say it was deliciously wicked. I had the both of them to a T, in all their boring glory. I even gave them plaid sheets on the marriage bed.”
“Ryan, you are very naughty, we all know that,” Sid said. “I hope your American audiences haven’t been equally incensed with your new satire of the American lifestyle.”
“My dear, it goes over most of their heads. They laugh uproariously, not realizing they are laughing about themselves. It is too marvelous for words. You’ll all come to opening night, of course, as my guests—and to the party afterward. Everyone who is anyone will be there.”
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world, would we?” Gus said, looking around the table.
I realized with a great flood of relief that this was my normal life now. I could eat long, luxurious breakfasts and take hot baths and go to plays. I was no longer a sweatshop worker. I was Molly, a member of the artistic set of Greenwich Village.
“Let me have a roll and some coffee, please,” I said. “I’m positively starving.”
“And I have to haste myself in the direction of the Victoria Theater to see about the scenery,” Ryan said. “I gather there’s an annoying pillar that will have to go. Let us hope it will not bring the house down, literally.” He blew kisses and swept out.
Katherine was looking at me strangely. “I may have made a mistake,” she said. “I had thought that Jacob was the man in your life, and then I thought that perhaps it was the policeman, but perhaps I am wrong.”
“Ryan?” I laughed.
“My dear Katherine,” Sid said. “Everyone loves Ryan. Even Ryan loves Ryan.”
“Especially Ryan loves Ryan,” Gus added. “No, I think that Jacob might not be such a bad choice for Molly after all.”
“I’ve just told him I’m not ready to think of marriage yet. I’m not at all sure I want to marry him.”
“Quite right. Too earnest.” Sid set a cup of Turkish coffee in front of me. “And think what a hindrance it would be to your career if you wanted to marry. You need time to enjoy life first, Molly.”
“You’re right,” I said. “What is the rush? I’m sure husbands are an infernal inconvenience.”
I glanced across at Katherine who was looking pensive, fingering the locket she now wore again at her neck, returned by the repentant Ben Mostel. “I’m sorry,” I said, flushing. “How insensitive of us to speak of marriage, after what you’ve just been through. I expect you never wish to hear the word again.”
“Not for a long while,” Katherine answered. “But I can assure you I’m not going to be a widow and wear black. As a matter of fact, I am excited about starting life on my own, although I have no idea what I’ll find to do with myself.”
“We’ve told you that you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want,” Sid said. “You can fill the empty nest left by Molly.”
Katherine smiled. “You are most kind, but I have to leave New York, just in case my father comes looking for me. He can be very forceful, as I’ve told you. I will stay in touch with my parents, but I really don’t want to go home again.”
“Then you must go to Boston, of course,” Gus said. “I’m sure we can find something for you there. My family owns half the city. I’ll write some letters for you.”
“But I don’t want to go back to the upper-class life,” Katherine said. “Now I’ve seen how much needs to be done for poor working women, I’m anxious to do more for them.”
“Not back to a terrible sweatshop, surely?” I asked.
“Preferably not a terrible sweatshop,” Katherine agreed, “but I have to do something useful to give my life a meaning.”
Her words struck at my conscience. Was I being selfish if I didn’t continue to work for the union? As Jacob had said there was a lot of good I could do. Then Sid sat at the table between us, brandishing the silver coffeepot.
“I commend you, Katherine,” she said, “but I have to confess that my morning coffee and hot rolls and my friends, and Gus here of course, are what give my life meaning. I couldn’t exist without them.”
“Amen to that,” Gus said, and raised her coffee cup in salute. I did the same.
Just before Christmas I received a letter from Katherine.