One night she came in from a meeting later than usual and quietly opened the front door, carefully closing it behind her. She unclasped her cape and tossed it over the coat tree, shivering a little from the March chill. Creeping toward the stairs, she winced as one of the wide planks in the oak floor creaked.
"Laura? Is that you?"
Laura’s heart sank. Her sister’s hearing was as acute as a forest deer’s.
Sarah entered from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her long apron. A lock of her blonde, waved hair fell forward, and she brushed it back with long, slender fingers. She arched her brows. "Have you been helping the pickets again?"
Defiantly Laura lifted her chin. "Yes. Haven’t you heard? They’re plotting to blow up the White House."
Sarah’s lips thinned. "Don’t even joke about such a thing. Picketing the White House is bad enough! Calling yourselves the Sentinels of Liberty, indeed!" She snorted. "The suffragists go too far!" Sarah untied her apron and wearily slipped it over her head. Her clear blue eyes softened as she looked wistfully at Laura. "Why do you insist on joining these women? Do you think you’ll save the world at fifteen?"
"Sixteen!" Laura snapped. "I had my sixteenth birthday last week, remember?"
"Then you should know better," Sarah answered sharply. A brief frown creased her forehead, and she shook her head in disbelief.
"You don’t understaad, Sarah," Laura said in measured tones. "You never will. You and Mother are always against me. The women’s platform is so simple. Why can’t you comprehend it? We want the vote and equal pay for equal work!" She glared at Sarah, whose eyes seemed tired. She shouldn’t argue with her, but it was difficult to hold her tongue when she yearned to have Sarah understand the Movement and be on her side. If only she could convince her earthbound sister to sprout wings — at least small ones — in order to soar above her everyday existence.
Attempting to clarify her position, she explained, "Sarah, if you’d go with me to one of the meetings you’d realize what we’re fighting for. I wish you could hear Miss Paul just once."
"I have no desire to be associated with a group of subversives!"
"It’s women like you who hold back anything the suffragists try to do!" She angrily shook a finger beneath Sarah’s nose. "We’re fighting for you, and you don’t appreciate it!" Her cheeks were hot, partly from trying to show Sarah what the suffragists believed and partly from the exhilaration of the speech she’d heard at tonight’s meeting. She had made a circle to the White House gates and could still see the women pickets standing in the rain. How she longed to take her place with them, but in the meantime she would fulfill her assignment cheerfully and bring coffee for the pickets.
"Did you hear me?" Sarah questioned.
"What?" Laura pulled her thoughts back to Sarah.
"I said, try not to wake Mother. She went to bed early. She had to do an extra run. She didn’t return her trolley car to the barn until after nine-thirty."
Laura lowered her voice. "All right. Sorry." She shifted the stack of pamphlets she was carrying from one hip to the other and prepared to go upstairs.
"What do you have there?" Sarah asked uneasily.
Laura gave a little shrug. "Pamphlets. Want one?" She handed the top one to her sister. "Read it, you might learn something." She smiled, anticipating Sarah’s reaction.
Sarah glanced quickly at the writing. "Democracy Begins at Home, Kaiser Wilson!" she shouted. "How can you call our president by that German title?"
Laura impishly put her finger across her lips. "Shh. You’ll wake Mother."
Sarah waved the pamphlet under Laura’s chin and said in a low voice, "This is traitorous in wartime!"
"Woodrow Wilson must recognize women as first-class citizens." Laura planted her fists on her hips, daring her sister to argue further.
For a moment they stared stonily at one another, then Laura flounced up the stairs, muttering, "What’s the use."
As she raced into her room she hated herself for becoming angry, but she wanted to shake people when they refused to understand.
Flinging herself across the bed, tears came to her eyes. Not a person in this house believed in her and her cause. If only her father were alive. With him she had felt like a small sailboat skimming over the waves, and he acted as the breeze that scooted her along. Now she felt more like a lumbering rowboat with her mother and Sarah acting as the mooring post that kept her tied.
Chapter Nine
Today Laura felt like a sailboat again, happily flying before the wind, for she and Joe were going to the Smithsonian Institution to see the Wright Brothers' plane that had recently been placed in the museum. She loved to go to the Smithsonian. Then, too, she hadn’t really seen Joe for weeks. Even their Friday night movie had been canceled, once by her, and once by Joe, so this Saturday was a special treat for both of them. Joe didn’t have to work, and her mother had told her to run along and have a good time.
As they walked down the steps and onto the sidewalk in front of her house, Joe stopped, took hold of her shoulders, and turned her to face him. "Well, Laura, let me take a look at you. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my girl." His dark, sparkling eyes swept over her with pleasure.
His girl! Her heart soared at those words. Was she at last his girl? Did he at last realize he loved her? She wrinkled her nose. Joe’s words were no doubt merely an expression. He still thought of her as his "little girl."
Hiding a smile, she spun around, causing her full skirt to swirl around her ankles. Her red sweater and plaid scarf gave her the casual look she liked. "Do I meet with your approval?" she asked in cheerful mockery.
"Oh, indeed, you do, fair maiden," he answered with a bow.
They both laughed. Then his serious gaze sought and held hers. "I’ve barely seen you since you joined the suffragists." In the familiar gesture she loved, he rakishly scooped back a shock of hair that touched his heavy black brows.
She put her arm through his, and they moved on.
"I’ve missed you at the store," he said lightly.
"And I’ve missed you, Joe Menotti." She was surprised at just how much she had missed him, despite her seeing Shawn.
Then, not able to contain what had been foremost in her thoughts for the past weeks, she said excitedly, "Joe, I’m learning so much in the Women’s Party, and we’re so close to pushing the nineteenth amendment through Congress." She stooped and picked up a fallen branch on the bricks and tossed it to the side of the walk. "Just think, I’ll be able to vote in a few years."
"I know. I’ve been keeping up with Alice Paul and her followers' activities in the newspapers. The senators and representatives are beginning to respond to the women’s demands, and even their speeches are becoming favorable." His tone was admiring; so was his glance.
The early spring breeze ruffled her hair. Her hand tightened on Joe’s arm as they crossed Independence Avenue. "It’s a good feeling to have the president and the Congress on our side at last."
"Only some of them, Laura. Don’t become overconfident," Joe murmured, his lips firm and straight. "Be careful, too. The arrests, despite your favorable publicity, are becoming more frequent, and you could be thrown in jail."