A Woman of Independent Means (33 page)

February 15, 1922
Honey Grove

Dear Sam,

The children were delighted by your unexpected visit last weekend. I am sorry I was unable to share more fully in all the activities you planned, but lately I just seem to go through the motions of living.

Even the children find it difficult to claim my attention any more, but fortunately they are thriving on the undivided devotion of my father's widow. Having no children of her own, she finds their constant clamor a welcome diversion in a house otherwise silent with loss. She is so happy with them and they with her, I have neither the heart—nor the motive—to add to her bereavement by returning to Dallas.

So I have decided to sell my house there and put my furniture in storage. Forgive me for not apprising you of this decision last weekend when we were face to face, but I was afraid such an announcement might lead you into a commitment you would later regret. I am very grateful for the kindness you have shown to me and my children, but please do not feel it should have permanent consequences.

I am sure by now you have made many new friends, and I have no doubt you will be in great demand as an escort. I can certainly vouch for your many excellent qualities in that capacity.

Affectionately—as always,
Bess

March 1, 1922
Honey Grove

Mrs. Martin Banks
Treasurer
Dallas Shakespeare Club
Dallas, Texas

 

Dear Exa,

I have decided to sell the house I bought last year in Dallas and stay in Honey Grove—at least for now. Since my father's death last month, I have been in a state of indecision concerning my future. All I know is I do not want to go back anywhere I have been before.

In the meantime I am concerned about the immediate future of my devoted housekeeper, Marthareen Jenkins. She is, of course, fully occupied at the moment packing our things for storage and getting the house ready for its new owner. But her work for me will be finished by the end of the month, and then she will have to seek other employment. Of course she will have no trouble finding another position. Indeed, several of my closest friends have approached her in my absence about the possibility of coming to work for them. However, if I should move back to Dallas at some future time, I would like to think she would be available to return to my employ, and in the meantime she must have some sort of temporary position.

It occurred to me that the Shakespeare Club might profit from my predicament. The luncheons following the lectures were so successful last fall, I wondered if you have given any thought to expanding the social activities of the club. Marthareen is an efficient executive as well as an excellent cook, and the entire membership would benefit from her full-time presence on the staff.

In her free time I think she could be persuaded to conduct a class for the other members of our unpaid catering staff. She has complained to me in the past of their lack of attention at lectures, and indeed I am aware that the presence of domestic servants at meetings has provoked some unfavorable comment from the membership at large. Perhaps this unfortunate situation could be remedied—and not at the expense of the accompanying social activity which we all enjoy—by providing some basic instruction for our servants in the appreciation of Shakespeare. I cannot imagine anyone better equipped to perform this service than my capable housekeeper.

No one who has had a conversation of any length with her can doubt her fine intelligence and keen grasp of language. She was raised on Shakespeare, and I must candidly say she is more comfortable with his idiom than many of us. But she also has a great sense of responsibility toward her “brethren,” as she calls them, and has often questioned whether she is meeting her obligations to her fellow man by continuing in domestic service. I know she would be thrilled at the opportunity to make the glories of Shakespeare accessible to friends whose upbringing did not afford them the literary advantages she had, and I would be very grateful to feel I still had an option on her future services. I look forward to hearing from you.

My best,
Bess

March 5, 1922
Honey Grove

Dear Dwight,

I have received more letters of sympathy in the last three years than anyone my age has a right to expect, and they are all beginning to sound alike. Very few people are capable of supplying real comfort in times of loss, but your letter succeeded in lifting my spirits to heights I have not approached since my husband died.

The thought of a trip to New York fills me with delight. My world, which has shrunk to the size of a front lawn since Christmas, has suddenly become globular again.

I am accepting your invitation with great anticipation—but on the strict condition that I will be responsible for my entertainment once I get there. Of course I would love to explore the city with you whenever you are free, but I am not afraid of being alone. Indeed the experience of solitude is one I would cherish.

I will be arriving next Monday—and staying as long as my circumstances will allow. And it goes without saying I will arrange my own accommodations. It is kind of you to offer to meet my train. In case you fail to recognize me, just look for the lady with the fox fur muff.

A bientôt,
Bess

March 5, 1922
Honey Grove

Dear Sam,

I was delighted to find a letter from you in the morning mail but puzzled to see only a single sentence inviting me to dinner on Saturday.

I am sorry I cannot accept but I will be on my way to New York that night. An old friend impulsively invited me for a visit and just as impulsively I accepted.

I know you cannot understand my abrupt departure from your life, but it would not be fair to you to continue our relationship. I have reached the point where my life has so little value for me, I cannot believe it has meaning for anyone else. Please do not allow this confession to negate in any way my gratitude for your continuing solicitude, but I cannot look to you to restore my eroding sense of identity. Self-esteem comes from within, not from without. I must have some time away from the routine of family life to see if I am still a person I would care to know.

The French say “au revoir” to someone they hope to see again. Only “adieu” means good-bye forever. Their language can express so much more than ours in the same amount of space. So instead of good-bye, let me just say, “Au revoir, Sam.”

With enduring affection,
Bess

 

MARCH 10 1922
HONEY GROVE TEXAS

DWIGHT DAVIS
989 PARK AVENUE
NEW YORK NEW YORK
FOX FUR MUFF IS STAYING IN TEXAS AND SO AM I HAVE
ACCEPTED PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE IN PLACE OF YOUR IN-
VITATION HOPE I AM NOT MAKING A MISTAKE

LOVE ALWAYS
BESS

 

 

March 10, 1922
Honey Grove

Dear Lydia,

It was kind of you to invite the children for a visit this weekend, thinking I would be in New York. I hope it will not inconvenience you if I come with them—and bring my reason for staying in Texas.

As I am sure you have guessed, the reason is Sam Garner. He appeared without warning last night while I was upstairs packing for my trip. He asked the children if they wanted him to marry me, and it was settled before I even knew he was here. The happiness shining from all three faces when they finally confronted me melted the cold stone I have carried for a heart these long months and I heard myself agreeing to all the plans they had made without me.

At my suggestion we are waiting to set a date for the wedding until we have found a house suitable for starting our life as a family. I hope that a few weeks of house-hunting will convince my husband-to-be that we will never find the house we want unless we build it ourselves. Since he is an engineer by profession, the prospect of incorporating his own ideas into his home should appeal to him as much as the delay it would involve in our wedding plans appeals to me.

Why am I so reluctant to abandon my single state when there is a kind and devoted man not only willing but actually anxious to share the obligations of parenthood? Perhaps it is because I suspect no one will ever love me as much as Rob did, and I would rather live alone than with anything less. And yet I hope you will forgive me for adding this final truth. I also suspect Sam loves the children more than Rob ever could—or at least he makes them a larger part of his life. The more I look around me, the more I am convinced that husband and father are often unrelated roles, and a man can be splendid in one capacity while barely adequate in the other. Of course the same observation can be made of women. Why does society insist we share every experience in life with the same person? We are all so much more complicated than we allow ourselves to appear.

I look forward to seeing you this weekend. Now that you know he can never take your brother's place in my life, I hope nothing will keep you from according a warm welcome to the man I am going to marry.

Fondly,
Bess

May 1, 1922
Honey Grove

Dear Totsie,

Sam and I abandoned our search for a suitable house last month and since then we have been looking at lots on which to build a house of our own design.

Yesterday we saw the acreage of our dreams—a secluded spot of land bounded by a wooded park with a stream running through it. The lot next to us is owned by Harold D. Perkins, an editor at
The Dallas Morning News
. I could not have chosen more prominent neighbors if I had been given my pick of the entire city. However, he apparently bought his land as an investment, so we will be the first to build.

Sam was so enchanted with the property he made the down payment out of his own savings account and insists on assuming full responsibility for the balance. Owning land clearly has special meaning for a man raised in impoverished circumstances. However, I feel a home should be the joint responsibility of the man and woman who share it, and so Sam has agreed to let me finance the construction of the house that will stand on his property.