Across a Crowded Room by Jane Alden

Author:Jane Alden
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: lesbian romance, love at first sight, 1950s romance, women post ww ii
Publisher: Desert Palm Press

Chapter Seventeen

THE NEXT AFTERNOON, BENNIE sat by the window in the waiting area of Gate One at LaGuardia Airport and watched her bag being loaded on Pan Am Flight 636 to San Francisco. Practically every seat in the waiting area was taken with businessmen reading their newspapers, women in smart traveling suits and hats, and one or two young couples whom Bennie decided were on their honeymoons.

She tried reading a few pages from Summer and Smoke again, but it hadn’t improved with time, and her mind kept wandering to the image of Carolyn coming around the corner of the room divider barefoot and wearing the burgundy robe. There was no mistaking the situation. Laura and Carolyn had slept together. Do I have any right to make a claim on Laura? I just don’t see how she can experience that kind of intimacy with me and with that girl too. Bennie thought about convention again, and how Laura had said it was her favorite word.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the loudspeaker calling her flight. She exited the doorway onto the tarmac and joined the line of other travelers climbing the steps into the plane. Stewardesses in military-style uniforms helped them to their seats and took their coats. With loud backfires that made Bennie jump, the four engines started the sustained drone of propellers. Once they were airborne, she pulled the curtain over her window and fell into an exhausted sleep. Nine and a half hours later, she hailed a cab in front of San Francisco Municipal Airport for the trip downtown to her hotel. As the cab turned off Market Street onto Powell, Bennie gasped.

“It’s straight up!” she exclaimed.

The taxi driver looked at her in the rearview mirror. “First time in San Francisco?” Without waiting for an answer, he said, “That’s Nob Hill. Not quite the steepest in the city, but close. There are seven hills, like Rome.” He continued the impromptu guided tour, pointing out Union Square, the St. Francis Hotel, and at the top of the hill, before the taxi turned left onto California, the ornate gate that marked the entrance to Chinatown. “Beyond there is North Beach, and beyond that the Bay.” The taxi pulled into the brick forecourt of the Mark Hopkins Hotel. The driver doffed his hat and said, “There you are, lady. A cab ride and a guided tour all in one.”

Bennie paid the fare, with a big tip, and followed a bellman carrying her bag through the revolving front door with a stylized MH on the ornate crest above the entry. Two huge crystal chandeliers dominated the lobby area that was crowded with smartly-dressed men and women, sitting in small groups or walking to and from the elevators.

Bennie stepped up to the reception desk where a clerk with a nametag that read ‘Mr. Hodgins, Assistant Manager,’ stood smiling.

“You’re busy. I expected the hotel to be quieter somehow.”

“Yes, Madam. We are quite sought after at this time of year. We have a lovely quiet room for you on the fourteenth floor with a beautiful view.

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