Going into the State Dining Room, the largest room in the White House besides the East Room, she stared in wonder at the heavy oak paneling and big game trophies that Theodore Roosevelt had collected and that Mrs. Wilson was planning to dismantle. Following the group, she marveled at the ornate centerpiece with its sixteen carved figures, each holding up a giant candlestick. The gilt grouping was set on a mirrored base. Laura glanced at Shawn, lifting her eyebrows. "How would you like to live like this?"
"I think I could handle it," he said with a chuckle.
And he could, too, she thought. Shawn was meant for a luxurious life. She turned back to view the high-backed chairs and velvet drapes, imagining President and Mrs. Wilson entertaining one hundred guests from all over the world with the women in jeweled tiaras and men in black tuxedos. The waiters would bring in gleaming silver platters of food, which, with a wide flourish, they would uncover before the guests.
Shawn leaned over and whispered, "General Long is invited here next week for a state dinner for an Arab prince."
"Will you be…" she left the question hanging in the air.
Grinning, Shawn shook his head. "I’m afraid I’ll be waiting for the general in the car."
The sergeant-at-arms motioned Shawn to his side and the two conversed quietly.
It wasn’t until the tour had moved into the East Room and she was admiring the famous Stuart portrait of George Washington that Shawn rejoined her. "Laura?" His blue eyes were troubled.
"What is it?" she questioned, puzzled at his expression.
"It’s…" He cut the air with his hand. "It’s nothing. I’ll tell you later."
Uneasy, she again turned her attention to the white-and-gold room with its three crystal chandeliers. It was here that State functions were held.
She gave Shawn a sidelong glance, wondering what he had heard, but she kept her voice light as she said, "Wouldn’t it be fun to see the second and third floors where the President has his private living quarters?"
Shawn nodded. "Of the one-hundred-thirty-two rooms, we’ve barely scratched the surface."
As they went out to the South Portico, one of the four entrances, the beauty of the White House grounds was striking in the sunlight. The president’s rose garden shimmered with pinks and reds, and the birds flitted here and there through the flowers and trees. The magnificent magnolia trees had been planted by Andrew Jackson in memory of his wife, Rachel, who died before she ever stepped inside the White House.
The tour members continued out the gate and dispersed, but as soon as they were alone, Laura confronted Shawn. "Now, what were you going to tell me?"
He laughed, a bit too loudly. "It’s nothing. I just didn’t know how you’d take it, and I didn’t want to ruin the tour for us."
"Take what, for heaven’s sake," she said with exasperated impatience.
"The Senate voted down the Women’s Amendment by two votes."
"Two votes?" she repeated slowly, feeling as if her heart were being twisted in half. The years the suffragists had worked! Only two votes! Turning her back on Shawn, she put her face in her hands and wept bitterly.
"For heaven’s sake, Laura, don’t take this thing so seriously!" He touched her shoulder.
Wheeling around, she angrily brushed away his hand. "Don’t you see? This is serious! Getting the vote means everything to me!" She could feel a flush creep across her cheeks, warming her face.
Shawn held up both hands, smiling. "All right, all right, sweetness. I won’t fight about it, but the way you’re caught up in this fanatical movement could do you more harm than good."
She gave him a long look, then walked away, too disheartened to argue further. She had thought she could change Shawn’s views, but she was beginning to have doubts.
Chapter Nineteen
Laura had been at Headquarters every day, and the new strategy would be no longer to condone President Wilson’s speeches. Too long he had "said" he favored the amendment, but when it came down to the wire, he didn’t push through the legislation. It was well known how Wilson would go over a senator’s head to the people if he really wanted a measure passed. Alice Paul had promised to unveil a new plan that was certain to renew Wilson’s interest in their cause, but she wouldn’t reveal her strategy just yet.
As Laura sat at her dressing table, she thought of the Joan of Arc role she was to play in the upcoming parade scheduled for July twenty-first. Of course, it had to be on the very day of the Officers' Ball that Shawn had invited her to. She smiled ruefully as she brushed her hair, remembering how she had vowed that nothing would interfere with the two events he had planned. The White House tour on the day of the losing vote for the Susan B. Anthony Amendment had ruined what was left of a delightful day, and now, July twenty-first. At first Shawn had laughed uproariously at her playing Joan of Arc in a parade, then he’d been furious when she told him that she wouldn’t be able to go to the ball, because of the rally later. But he got over it. Shawn never held a grudge or his anger very long.
As she tilted her head to one side, brushing until her hair shone with golden highlights, she was pleased with the plans she had with Joe for today. Her thoughts drifted back to the festive Fourth of July they had had last week. The Menottis, Otto Detler, Sarah, and her mother had all gone to the band concert in the park. She had sat next to Joe in her white dress with the green sash and her new sailor straw hat. She had stabbed several hat pins through the green hat, but it had perched precariously atop her hair like a bird’s nest out on a limb.
She smiled at the closeness she felt to the Menottis and her family. Holidays were special occasions and meant for families. Even Sarah had responded to the fun and been more like her old self.
After the patriotic speeches following the concert were finished, they had taken the trolley to Glen Echo Park. There, Aldo and Joe had spread blankets on the grass, and Maude and Bertina brought out two large wicker hampers brimming with food. A patriotic fever rose in Laura as she thought of the warm scene. There was Otto, a German, the Menottis from Italy, and the Mitchells, who had emigrated to this country from Ireland during the Great Potato Famine of 1846. Only in America would there be such a melting pot at one table, she marveled.
She slipped into a pink dress, as pink as cotten-spun candy, and twirled before the full-length mirror, loving the new shorter length. Why, there were at least eight inches of her slim legs that showed! Naughty! She giggled. The sun-splashed day was gorgeous, and she hoped she and Joe would have as good a time today as they had had on the Fourth! It had been such fun, she reminisced, playing ball with Aldo and Joe, then eating a delicious lunch of fried chicken, potato salad, and apple pie.
Later she and Joe had walked hand in hand along the riverbank to the Little Falls of the Potomac. What was it Aldo had called them — the two Uccello D’Amore? Lovebirds. She liked that, but she felt a twinge of guilt, too. Was she a tease going with two fellows at the same time? Sarah thought so. Her sister, never one to mince words as far as Laura was concerned, warned her about finding a fine boy and going only with him. Playing the field wasn’t what nice girls did. A smile played around Laura’s lips as she remembered the night of Fourth of July with its bursts of fireworks against the night sky and Joe’s arm carelessly around her shoulder. When she was with Joe, she felt warm, relaxed, and happy. Her feelings must have been reflected in her face, for she had caught Aldo’s eyes on them, and he had winked and nodded his approval. What a glorious Independence Day that had been!