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33: Rescued
“Good morning, Mr. James.”
Alerted by the lift’s chime, Evelyn had expected Andrew within seconds. Detecting movement in her periphery, she looked up to find him leaning halfway into the office, peering at her oddly, instead of striding in boldly as he usually did.
The dark waves of his hair, normally smoothed back carefully with pomade, were tousled and she was positive he hadn’t shaved this morning. Dark circles ringed his vaguely haunted looking eyes as he stared at her.
Alarmed, Evelyn rose. “Is everything alright?”Andrew blinked once, mechanically. “Evelyn, would you kindly collect your things and join me, please?”
“Of course.” In an outright terror, she opened her personal armoire. Rushing, she pulled on her suit jacket, then snatched her lunch and purse, and hurried around her desk to
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World of Tomorrow 34: Rescued Again
Andrew watched Evelyn’s retreating figure, clinging to the last possible glimpse of her before she was swallowed by the flowing foot traffic on the New York sidewalks. He’d done an abominable job with his gratitude. Doubtless, as Evelyn had assured him, his children—he would have everything he’d need to care for them. In a day and a few short words, she’d soothed his wounded pride and panic, given him back his sense of control and accomplishment. And he’d tried to pay her for it. As if the making of a man—of a father— was a skill one could purchase. At least she’d enjoyed herself with the children. That was more than he could say of the last twenty-four hours with him. Andrew’s chest felt tight. Where had he gone wrong? He couldn’t set them back on the right path if he didn’t understand how they’d strayed from it. Peter poked his head out of the car door. “Father
World of Tomorrow 35: Panic
‘A fine mother’. ‘A fine mother’. ‘A fine mother’. The words echoed in marching cadence with Evelyn’s steps the entire walk back to her apartment building, ringing in her ears, overlaying themselves inside her shocked brain in a tangled cacophonous din. “You have a fine evening.” The nightwatchman smiled, holding open the door for them, but Evelyn scarcely heard him. Or the children’s happy chirps, “Thank you!” “Thank you. I appreciate you looking after the safety of the tenants here.” That Evelyn only heard because about the same time he said it, Andrew shifted their paper bag of groceries to his opposite arm and took her hand in his larger warm one. Or maybe it wasn’t that she’d heard, but she absolutely felt it. The enormous electric jolt that shot through her body at Andrew
World of Tomorrow 36: Temporary Nanny
“Peter,” Evelyn called, pausing with Sarah at her side. Trailing behind Andrew, they made their way beneath the Bulova clock through the Corona gate off 111th Street, and into the Transportation zone of the World’s Fair. “You have to keep up.”Pivoting sharply, Andrew’s keen eyes scanned the crowd, landing on his wayward child and with quick strides, he made his way to him, taking the wide-eyed boy by the hand. “Evelyn is absolutely right. The fairgrounds are far too big for you to get lost. You must stay with her. If you can’t do that, we all go home. Do you understand?”“Yes Father.”Removing his money clip from his inside jacket pocket, Andrew stopped their little group at the Avenue of Transportation before the Chrysler pavilion. He raised a finger, hailing a pedal cart. “I’ll be at the Administration building in my office working should you need anything,” he advised unnecessarily—they’d already worked out the logistics this morning on the drive over. On the pretense of catching u
World of Tomorrow 37: Wrath of Gods
“Miss Moore!”As the door between their office spaces slammed open with a bang and Andrew shouted out at her, a startled Evelyn leapt to her feet before her rolling chair, stumbled over it and nearly fell.Realizing his mistake, Andrew darted forward and caught her by the upper arms, steadying her against his chest, and was instantly repentant meeting her wild-eyed stare. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you so badly.”Her heart pounding, Evelyn pushed herself away, saying nothing as she caught her breath. “What—what is it you needed?” she managed finally.“You’ll need a notepad. I’ll need you to take some dictation.” Pivoting, he stormed into his office.Collecting herself, Evelyn hurried in after him, taking a seat on the narrow sofa in his office as he paced rapidly across the small space in agitation. She balanced her note pad on her crossed knee, jotting the date at one corner of the page. June 8th, 1939. “Whenever you’re ready, Mr. James.”Andrew slowed, his gaze drifting fro
World of Tomorrow 38: The Royal Visit
At a knock at the door, Evelyn turned, and opening it, let a pajamaed Lily into her apartment.“Evie!” Her best friend’s voice was brimming with a strange mix of disapproval and panic. “What on earth!? You haven’t even washed!”With a folded towel, Evelyn mildly lifted the lid on the percolator, checking the color of the coffee. It was done, but she left the gas burner on beneath it for another minute, brewing it stronger. Lily was entirely too bright and chipper for this early in the morning. Particularly considering how poorly she herself had slept the last couple nights after witnessing that fiercely hostile altercation between Andrew and Charlotte James.Recognizing Evelyn needed far more help than usual today, Lily butted in at the stove. “Why don’t you sit down?” With an uncharacteristic kitchen efficiency mostly born of excitement, she worked her way through the artfully packed cabinets. Coffee mugs, counter. Pour. Boiler pan, sink, tap on. Teaspoon from the drawer, sugar from t
World of Tomorrow 39: Invested
Evelyn stood in Andrew’s office, listening to his side of a phone conversation with the NYWFC accountants. Watching as he jotted notes—the answers to his terse questions—and made lightning quick calculations in his head with an upward flick of his mutable eyes, she wrapped one arm about her middle and worried her thumbnail between her front teeth. “How many?” Andrew demanded in an ominous monotone, scratching the number on a calculation-obscured notepad before him. “You’re certain that’s the final number? Go on.” Against his light gray suit, his eyes flashed more green than blue, the annoyed scowl deepening around them the longer the conversation went on, the longer the rows of figures became. More than a week later, final tallies for the King and Queen of England’s visit to the Fair were available at long last and based on the way he’d pressed his fine lips into a tight line, Evelyn doubted it was good. He’d be i
World of Tomorrow 40: Subterfuge
Abandoned, Evelyn tread the path to the subway moodily and even more quickly than she did normally with Lily—she hated to ride the subway alone. So much so in fact that she’d plan to walk rather than take it when she knew she’d have no other option besides go alone. What’s more, in the sweltering summer heat made worse by an uncharacteristic and lingering heatwave, it was miserable as well as somewhat frightening and disheartening—hot, sticky, the air close and heavy and reeking of the discomfort of all the overwarm bodies pressed together inside it. Boarding the train, she took a handloop as she and Lily usually did, flinching and turning the opposite direction when another passenger lifted his arm for the loop next to hers, and the pungent scent of him diffused into the air near her face. Around her, the train surged forward, the noisy rhythmic clacking along the tracks and the stifling temperature lulling her into drowsiness.
World of Tomorrow 41: Star-spangled
“No.” Andrew’s jaw was set firmly and his tone brooked no argument. Yet argue was exactly what Madame Moreau did. “Mr. James, this is not merely a dress, this is art!” Madame, in her husky voice which, in combination with her French accent, already sounded more than a bit condescending to Evelyn, hissed back defiantly. “Then sell it to a museum. I am not paying for that,” Andrew bit out. Noting the hard glint in his changeable blue eyes, Evelyn sighed in relief. This return visit to Madame’s couture shop had been the worst yet. The dress she was modeling— a shoulder-less gown with an asymmetric fitted bodice and a skirt that draped from the waist into a flouncy full ruffle covered in a peacock feather pattern but with shockingly prominent frankly eerie eyes— was the culmination of it. The fact that it was also Schiaparelli’s signature design shade of ‘shocking pink’ nauseated her even more. Madame’s face screwed up into a tight unflattering pinch and yanking her glasses off her f
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