A Deep Divide Read online

  Edgar silently helped him change out of his day suit, and Ray mulled it all over. If he were in charge of things, what would he change? The ever-present need Dad had to have the Watkins name be as big as all the other wealthy names that rolled off people’s tongues. That would be first. Second, he wanted to help show the world God’s love. Would that mean funding missionaries? Churches? He had no idea. Maybe that’s something he should start speaking to someone about. But who? Their reverend back in Chicago was of a like mind with his father. And Reverend James had passed away.

  “There, sir. If you won’t be needing anything else, I shall retire until you call for me this evening.”

  Adjusting his jacket sleeves at the cuffs, Ray gave the older man a smile. “That’s quite all right, Edgar. I am perfectly capable of getting myself ready for bed. Why don’t you take the rest of the evening off? It’s been quite a grueling journey, and I’m sure you would like to enjoy some time to yourself.”

  “Of course, sir. Many thanks.” While he didn’t quite smile, it did give Ray hope that there was a bit of joy within the man somewhere. Working for the Watkins family could not be an easy task. Mother and Dad could both be quite difficult. “Oh, I almost forgot. This telegram arrived for you earlier.” The older man handed him the paper and nodded his head.

  “Thank you.” Who would be sending him a telegram? Ray closed the door behind Edgar and opened the paper.

  Send photographs of the art. Especially the Harvey Collection.

  —Father

  He tapped the paper against his palm. Did Dad forget that he’d already asked him to take pictures of the art? Odd. Ray tossed the paper onto his bed and shrugged. Age and stress must be getting to the old man.

  “Another train has arrived with another crowd of visitors. The hotel is completely full.” Emma Grace stood straight in the dining room with her hands clasped in front of her and smiled. “Are you ready for the evening hustle and bustle, Caroline?” The whispered words to her new trainee sounded a bit too loud to her own ears, and she glanced at their head waitress.

  But Ruth was whispering her own encouragement to other waitresses-in-training. They’d lost several of the new staff when the girls discovered how remote their new job would be. Out of twenty-five girls, they’d had to replace four. Three of them had offers they couldn’t refuse and married men in Williams. Marriage was the reason why they lost most of their waitresses at all the Harvey establishments. The other girl returned home from the Williams depot without ever journeying all the way out to El Tovar. Granted, it wasn’t very appealing if all she saw was the barren terrain as the train chugged into Arizona Territory. If only she’d taken the time to see the view of the canyon . . . but one had to travel miles and miles through endless trees and desert-like landscape to get there.

  That reminded Emma Grace that she’d overheard several men talking about a hike down into the canyon. Since there was a trail, she couldn’t wait to try that for herself.

  “My hands are shaking.” Caroline’s words pulled her attention back. “What if I spill something on somebody important?”

  “You’ll do fine. You’ve been a Harvey Girl for several months now and I haven’t seen you spill a drop since you got here. Just follow my lead.” Emma Grace lifted her chin and stood straighter as guests were shown into the vast room and to their tables. Many of them oohed and aahed over the room and pointed to the enormous log walls and immense beams in the vaulted ceiling. Then, as they caught their first glimpse out the windows, many of them tried to contain themselves, but most couldn’t. No matter how many times a person saw it that first day, the canyon overwhelmed them.

  Several of the new waitresses suppressed giggles. They’d all done the same thing. It had been a relief when Ruth told her that the new waitresses were at least seasoned Harvey Girls. If they’d been completely new? Well, that would have been a disaster. Trying to train them on top of trying to keep their attention.

  “I’m thankful for my experience as a Harvey Girl, but it was not at a place like this. These people are all wealthy. They’re a different class of customers. What if someone really important comes in and I’m not ready? What if President Roosevelt were to come? Or the Rockefellers?” She let out a tiny gasp. “Or John Jacob Astor?” The young girl was working herself up into a frenzy and positively quaking in her boots as her voice squeaked.

  “Straighten up, Caroline.” Using a tone that brooked no argument, Emma Grace looked her trainee in the eye. “It doesn’t matter who they are. They’re our customers and they deserve the best—the Harvey best. Rely on your training. There’s no more time to doubt yourself or to worry about it. It’s time to serve.” Emma Grace took determined steps toward her area, confident that Caroline could pull it together.

  Emma Grace smiled and nodded as she walked past guests, but something Caroline had said began to niggle at the back of her mind. This crowd was the upper class. What if the El Tovar drew people here who knew her? She found herself at a place where her crowd was sure to come. A place she’d chosen. She’d been so worried about getting as far away as possible that she hadn’t thought it all through. Of course, there had always been the chance that someone from her social circle in Boston could ride the train west and see her. But she’d always been in disguise up to this point. Perhaps she should wear her hair differently. And maybe use the glasses again.

  Even as her heart picked up its pace, she forced herself to focus on the moment. She’d have to think about it later. Change her appearance tomorrow. “Good evening. Welcome to the El Tovar.” She gave a broad smile to each guest at the table in front of the large fireplace, the most prized seating in the dining room, where two large windows flanked the stone fireplace. Guests seated at those three tables—one at each window and one in the middle by the fireplace—had the best seats with the best view. The Grand Canyon lay before them in all its glory as they dined. And those tables belonged to her.

  As the waitress with the most seniority under their head waitress, she loved the privilege of choosing her tables. She’d never tire of this view, and to think she’d get to see it every day. . . .

  “Our menu offers many scrumptious dishes this evening. But might I recommend the breast of chicken El Tovar, created by our very own Chef Marques.” She offered coffee to each of the four guests as Caroline followed her with the water pitcher. “It is served with wild rice.”

  “That sounds utterly delightful.” The lady was the first to speak and gave her a smile.

  “I’ve had the pork with applesauce at another Harvey establishment and thought it divine, so I will stick with that.” One of the gentlemen kept his nose buried in the menu. “With potatoes.” The last part was almost a grunt.

  The gentleman with his back to the fire thumbed his mustache. “I believe the roast sirloin of beef au jus will be my choice.” His chin went up and down as he gazed through his spectacles at the menu. “Boiled sweet potatoes and Elgin sugar corn with that.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with you.” The last man spoke and tucked his hand into his vest pocket. “I’ll have the same.”

  “We will be back shortly with your dinner.” Emma Grace turned and walked toward the large buffet cabinet that lined the west side of the room and guarded the entrance to the kitchen. Caroline followed closely and listened as Emma Grace gave the orders to Ruth, who would give them to the chef. Turning to her trainee, Emma Grace lifted her eyebrows ever so slightly. “Are you ready to be on your own?”

  Caroline grinned back, her nervousness gone, at least for the moment. “Yes, Miss Edwards.”

  “Good. Now, why don’t you offer coffee to both the window tables, and I will take the pitcher of water? Then you take the orders at the table by the right window, and I will take the left.”

  Ray followed the host across the intricately designed carpets into the dining room. The open dining room boasted vaulted ceilings with large beams that rose to the apex. The log trusses and beams were rough wood, which gave the room a r
ustic appeal. The red and blue crosses in the center of the carpets were quite mesmerizing. He spotted his group at a table by one of the windows facing the canyon.

  As he approached the table, he let out a sigh. Ah yes, it had a marvelous view. Exactly what he’d been hoping for—one of the best seats in the room. He nodded to the host. “Thank you.”

  “You’re most welcome, sir.” The host laid a menu on the table and went back to his station.

  As Ray took his seat, he looked at the others. “Good evening. My apologies for the delay.”

  “Not a problem.” George dipped his chin and looked back down at the menu.

  “Coffee, sir?” The waitress’s voice to his right made him glance up. She was young, with brown hair. She looked a bit mousy and a good deal uneasy.

  “Yes, thank you.” He gave her a smile, hoping that it would ease whatever discomfort she had.

  She poured him a cup and walked away with brisk steps. He raised the fine china cup to his mouth and took a sip. The warm liquid and the sandstone fireplace right next to him began to melt the chill that had set into his bones. After another long sip, he set his coffee cup down on the saucer. “Look at that view.” The scene out the window in front of him was like that of a priceless painting. With a glance back to his tablemates, he found it odd that the other men weren’t more captivated by it.

  “I don’t mind the view one bit.” Ben wasn’t looking out the window, though. He was watching the Harvey Girls as they glided through the room.

  “I agree. Too bad Harvey has such strict rules about their curfew.” George let out a low chuckle.

  Listening to the conversation emanating from his father’s company men made him want to turn the table over on top of them. Why had his father hired them? Because they could act like gentlemen when they needed to? Definitely not because they were gentlemen.

  A twinge hit his gut. He had no place to judge. These men acted exactly like he used to.

  It wasn’t long ago that his behavior was no different. God had done a mighty work in his life, in more ways than Ray could count. There was hope for these guys . . . maybe he had a chance to be a positive impact on them. If he could just control his temper, he’d be doing well. God had infinite patience for Ray. He needed to pass that on to those around him.

  “That one’s quite the looker.” George smirked and sipped his coffee. Every man at the table followed his gaze. The waitress was dressed like all the others. Black dress, high collar, with a long white apron over it. Her dark hair was piled high atop her head and she smiled as she served a table two away from them.

  While she was an attractive lady, it wasn’t proper for his father’s men to be talking in such a manner. Time to get things back on track. He cleared his throat. “Gentlemen, I’d like to discuss what tasks my father has asked for your assistance on. That way I know what I can request of your services as well. No need to overlap.” Ray pulled a small notebook and pencil out of his pocket.

  All the men quieted. Michael tapped the table a moment and shared a glance with the others. “Our apologies. It’s been a long day—a long trip. Our discussion was improper and unbecoming to gentlemen.”

  “Agreed.” George leaned back in his chair. “I forgot my manners.”

  His obvious attempt to stop their gawking had worked. Ray looked each man in the eye. No need for reprimands. He put the notebook away. “Perhaps we can save business discussions for breakfast and luncheon. It has been a long day.” These men were different than the ones Dad usually sent with him. They were more . . . worldly. Young. Best to get on their good side, yet keep them reminded who was boss. How he was to accomplish that balance, he wasn’t sure.

  The difficult position of being the boss’s son wasn’t his favorite. Especially when he’d been given more responsibility than ever before. But he had to remember that he was representing the Watkins name.

  “Good evening, gentlemen.”

  He turned at the voice behind him and smiled. The woman dressed in the waitress attire wasn’t what he’d expected. Instead of the mousy and timid-looking young woman, this lady was self-assured. Confident.

  “Good evening.”

  “I see Caroline has already brought you coffee. Does anyone need a refill?” She poured water into his glass and then the next with precision. Not a drop was spilled. He watched her as she rounded the table. Her light blond hair shimmered in the dining room lights. Steady hands. No jewelry of any kind. And she walked around the table as graceful as a dancer. He’d seen the Harvey Girls in action at many locations, but something about this woman was different. What was it?

  Michael asked her a question about the menu’s offerings, and every man at the table listened intently. At least they seemed to be on their best behavior. Thank heavens.

  Without missing a beat, she explained every dish and stood before them, waiting. “If you’ve decided, I can take your orders now.”

  As she went around the table again, she nodded and asked each man questions about their specific choices, their vegetable and dessert preferences. “How about you, sir?” She turned to Ray.

  He cleared his throat. “The chicken by the chef sounds quite good.”

  “It’s served over wild rice. Would you like anything else to accompany it?”

  “The asparagus with cream sauce, please.”

  “Of course. And how about for your dessert?” She tilted her head ever so slightly.

  “Apple pie.”

  With a nod, she then looked at each one of them. “I will return with your dinners shortly, but should you need anything before then, don’t hesitate to raise a hand and I will come as soon as possible.”

  As she walked away, his entire table watched.

  Michael was the first to speak. “I almost don’t feel like I’m dressed well enough to be in her presence.”

  George let out a low whistle. “I was feeling the same thing. And she’s just a waitress.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being a waitress.” Ray’s tone was sharper than he intended. “She’s not beneath us.”

  “Of course not.” Michael’s voice softened a bit and he looked between George and Ben.

  An awkward moment of silence stretched before them. This was why Ray disliked society and all its rules of classes and such. Why couldn’t people simply be people? All equal? He took another sip of his coffee and gazed back out the window. Perhaps it was best if he kept his mouth shut. It was obvious these men didn’t share his perspectives.

  The men chatted about the weather. How they hadn’t expected winter to be in the desert landscape of Arizona. Then they talked about what it must be like to venture down into the canyon. Ray watched them and studied them. They’d all worked for his father for a while. Maybe he needed to put more effort forth into getting to know them. After all, they were going to be here for many weeks.

  Their waitress returned, her arms loaded with plates. As she served their dinner, every move was quick and precise. No lingering. No flirting. No chatting. She did her job, and she did it well. And he still felt like he was in the presence of royalty. After several trips, she returned with a carafe of coffee and a pitcher of water and filled each man’s cup to the brim.

  “Is there anything else that you need at the moment, gentlemen?”

  Each man shook his head.

  Ray offered up a smile. “I think we have everything for the time being.”

  “I’ll be back for your plates and to bring your desserts. Again, don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her brown eyes but made her even more becoming. With a slight nod, she walked away.

  Ray picked up his fork and knife and sliced into the chicken breast. Covered with a glazing of hollandaise, the golden-brown crust made his mouth water. The first bite was even better than he imagined. Not only was the hollandaise creamy and tangy, but there was a thick sherry sauce underneath and over the chicken and rice that had chunks of mushrooms cooked to perfection within it. Ea
ch bite was better than the last.

  He looked up and each man seemed to be relishing their food too.

  George smiled and even let out a tiny moan. “I think that’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

  “Agreed.” Michael took another bite.

  Over the course of the next forty-five minutes, they ate and enjoyed their dinners, drank coffee, and chatted about the journey. But Ray couldn’t help but glance here and there at their waitress. While all the Harvey Girls were lovely, precise, and good at their jobs, their waitress was better somehow. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but he was convinced of it.

  Maybe he could speak with her. But why? And how would he approach her and it not be inappropriate? Maybe he could apologize for the men’s comments. She might have heard them.

  With his pie plate clean, Ray reached for his cup and drained the last of his coffee. “I think I shall retire to my room for the evening.” He stood. “I’ll see you all in the morning for breakfast.”

  “I forgot to tell you.” Michael stood as well. “We won’t be here tomorrow. Your father has several things for us to accomplish back in Williams. But we should be back the following day for dinner.”

  “Of course.” Ray adjusted his coat to cover his surprise. They’d just arrived. Now the men were off again?

  Why did his father need all of them there? It was one thing to be inquiring for the investors, but did it really take four of them to accomplish that task? The only conclusion that made sense to him was that Dad apparently had another agenda. One he hadn’t shared with his own son. And that didn’t sit well.

  George and Ben got to their feet as well and set their cloth napkins on the table.

  The men all said their good-nights and Ray watched them leave the dining room. With a shake of his head, he tapped the table and pushed thoughts of his father from his mind. This was the perfect time for him to try and speak to the Harvey Girl. He perused the room, hoping for a glimpse of their waitress. Hmmm. Where was she?