Margaret crept up the stairs toward the room. Her sister and cousins were behind her as she climbed the creaky stairs. As Margaret arrived at the bedroom door, she turned around to find that she was alone. The others were watching from a safe distance on the landing below and motioned her to go in. She would have to do this by herself. She paused to gather her courage, then turned the doorknob and pushed. It didn’t budge. Relief that the door was locked flooded through her. She ran back down the stairs, and the giggling group stumbled to the porch and out into the moonlit garden.
*
Kitty, Margaret’s roommate from Dana Hall, also lived nearby. She held a dinner for the Brown girls and the Johnston children, then they all went to see the famous John Barrymore in the movie The Beloved Rogue. Afterward, they danced for hours at the country club. Morrie was immediately smitten with Kitty, and Margaret was happy for her friend even though she, too, had become enamored of her cousin. Morrie was a charming rascal who made common moments into exciting escapades. Conversation with Morrie was easy for Margaret; they talked for hours as they rode horses or sat on the riverbank, watching the moonlit reflection of the trees on the water. Margaret was thrilled his boarding school, Middlesex, was close enough that they could see each other when school began in the fall.
*
At the beginning of their senior year, Margaret, Kitty, and their mothers took the train to Boston for several days of shopping before settling in at Dana Hall. Kitty continued to date Morrie, who introduced Margaret to his classmate Bryan Lyseck. The four went on regular outings to the Massachusetts countryside or met in Boston on special occasions. Bryan quickly was besotted with Margaret. After their first date, he sent her a bouquet of roses and, soon afterward, a pair of diamond earrings. Margaret held them up to the moonlight, and the reflections created a beautiful spiderweb of refracted light. Bryan was handsome and charming, but Margaret warmed to the relationship slowly. She swore to herself that she would never allow her emotions to be swayed by jewelry.
On Thanksgiving, the foursome had lunch at a nearby hotel. After the lunch, Margaret went with Morrie to his cousin’s house for dinner. The cousin was expecting her first child, and in that visit, Margaret got a glimpse of the life she hoped to have. It wasn’t envy she felt, simply excitement for this same future she believed was to be her own. The problem was she felt like a satellite orbiting around Kitty and Morrie. For the sake of their friendships, Margaret kept her attraction to Morrie to herself. She liked Bryan, but try as she might, she couldn’t muster the same feelings for him that she had for Morrie and Kitty. She loved them both dearly.
When she returned home to Great Neck for the Christmas holidays, it was the first time she had spent a long amount of time at the new house. All the family’s belongings that had been in storage were now in place. It felt like home—finally. Even her parents seemed happy to be together.
On Christmas Eve, the family sang carols as her mother played the piano. Margaret took eggnog to her room that night and made resolutions for the new year. She was so happy to have been reunited with her belongings and furniture that she was often too excited to sleep during the holiday break. She read until the early hours of the morning, occasionally looking up from the pages to admire her little haven, decorated with all the girlhood possessions she loved.
For the new year, she resolved to keep a regular diet of fifteen hundred calories a day until she was 120 pounds, or else in perfect form. She also vowed to give up cigarettes entirely. She made a final wish for love and laughter.
Four
1928
Eyes like emeralds in the road
Tell the presence of the toad
Eyes like rubies in the dark
Catch the alligator’s spark
And tiger’s, tiger’s burning bright
In the stillness of the night
UNPUBLISHED
The early winter of 1928 in Massachusetts was particularly harsh. Back in school at Dana Hall, Margaret soon fell into a listless gloom. The cold winter days compounded her blues, brought on by her parents’ constant squabbles. Margaret dreaded phone calls from home because the conversation often turned into verbal jousting between her parents, seemingly fought to win Margaret’s approval and affection. She also couldn’t break her attraction to Morrie but cared too much for Kitty to act on her desires.
Her spirits were lifted when the Johnstons invited her and Roberta to join them on Cumberland Island, the family’s private retreat off the coast of Georgia, for spring break. Margaret was thrilled, but a shopping trip to Boston with her mother soured her mood. Maude angrily recounted Bruce’s recent failings and then berated Margaret for having gained weight. Margaret couldn’t understand why her mother couldn’t simply enjoy the good moments instead of picking apart the people who loved her.
For two weeks, Margaret exercised strenuously. By the time she stepped foot on Cumberland Island, she was ten pounds lighter and certain her new wardrobe would fit. The girls had to take a train and a ferry to reach the island, but the most enchanting ride was from the dock to Plum Orchard, the Johnstons’ home on the island. The Johnstons’ car was electric, perfect for the low-speed, bumpy drive along the sand-and-crushed-oyster-shell road. Gnarled branches of water oaks on either side of the road arched above them to form a darkened tunnel, and staccato rays of sunlight danced in the twisted limbs. Every so often, the wheels of the car sank a little too deeply into the soft, deep valleys of sand and swung the back end of the car to the edge of the narrow road. There the tires once again found traction and pitched the car back into the middle of the road. This exotic island was more magical than she could possibly have imagined.