From the Improvement Era, March 1957 –

The Richest Girl in Town

By Mary Ek Knowles

When Mike Gregory reached the Braden home on Pierce Avenue, cars were arriving and people in evening clothes were getting out, calling back and forth to each other in easy comaraderie.

As Mike walked up the flagstone path, he felt friendless and conspicuous. It was all exactly as Jo Hutchinson had warned him it would be.

He had seen her in the lower hall at Walter Dirk Hospital as he came out of his room. She was hurrying toward the elevator, a hot water bottle in her hand, but she had stopped when she saw him and had come back, and just stood there staring, and suddenly the rented tuxedo felt too tight, and he had blurted out, “Do I look that bad?”

She shook her head. “You look wonderful, Mike.” And then her voice blurred a bit. “I didn’t believe you were serious about going to Meredith Braden’s party.”

“Why shouldn’t I go?” All at once he was angry because the look in Jo’s eyes made him feel guilty, although she wasn’t his girl. He had been careful not to have a girl.

She had said gently, “You won’t know anyone but Meredith, and that ritzy crowd will high-hat you.”

For a moment he had been tempted not to go, to wait around until Jo got off duty instead. They could go to The Hut down the street and listen to the jukebox.

And then he remembered that he had decided to play life smart. Dad had graduated from medical school at the top of his class, too. He’d had a brilliant future as a surgeon. Instead he had married a girl as poor as he, gone to Ebbensville to practise. He had worked for thirty years as a country doctor and died broke.

Make up your mind what you wanted from life and then go after it. Right now Meredith Braden was what he wanted. He had told Jo easily, “Don’t worry, I’ll get along.”

Now here he was ready to ring the doorbell. Guests swarmed around him, and he had that feeling of being alone in a crowd. It wasn’t too late to back out. And then he remembered last January when Meredith Braden had been brought into Emergency.

She had broken her ankle skiing and the crowd she had been with brought her down from the mountains. They had come surging in, their gay ski togs looked strangely out of place in the white-walled hallway. Meredith was shouting, “Be careful, you clumsies!” as two boys carried her in.

One of them said, “You’ve been crabbing at us all the way down. We should drop you right here!”

Suddenly Meredith had taken her arm from around their necks, pushed them away, and then stood on one foot, holding a chair for support. “I’ll manage myself!”

A girl in a kelly-green outfit said angrily, “It’s your own fault you got hurt! We warned you not to enter the slalom race. But you had to show off!”

Meredith tossed her head and her shoulder-length hair was like dull gold against the scarlet of her jacket. Mike and Dr. Brent Shaw had taken her in for X-rays then. “Sorry, we’ll have to cut your trouser leg.”

“So what!” she’d said crossly. “Slash it to ribbons. I’ve always detested this suit.”

He had warned her when he set the ankle. “This is going to hurt.”

“I can take it!” She had sounded cocky, but he had admired her courage. She had clenched her teeth, but she hadn’t cried out.

After it was all over, and she’d been sent home in an ambulance, he and Brent had gone outside for a breath of air. “That,” Brent had told him, “was Carl Braden’s kid. She’s the richest girl in town and a spoiled brat.”

Mike hadn’t replied. He supposed all that Brent said was true, that she was a spoiled brat; but he remembered a moment when he was alone with Meredith, and he had looked up to see her crying soundlessly, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I wasn’t just showing off, Dr. Gregory. I honestly thought I had good enough control to enter the races. Now — will I ever walk again?”

“Why, of course,” he had told her. “You’ll be dancing in a month or two.”

“Will you dance with me?”

“You bet.”

“That’s a promise? You’re not kidding?” Her mouth twisted into a smile that was wistful.

“You bet it’s a promise.”

She hadn’t forgotten. A week ago she had brought him an engraved invitation. “My twenty-first birthday party,” she’d said. “There’s going to be dancing. Remember your promise?”

She had tossed her hair out of her eyes and smiled at him, and there was a coltish awkwardness about her that was charming.

Now he rang the doorbell, and then he was in the large hallway with its scenic paper, its highly polished floor, part of a crowd, and then quite suddenly alone again. He had been a fool to come. And then he saw him- self in the large mirror on the wall and remembered what Dr. Van Clifton had said that day over a year ago when they were scrubbing up before an operation. “What do you plan to do after you finish your internship, Dr. Gregory?”

“Open an office of my own here in the city, sir.” He had thought, I won’t go back to Ebbensville, that’s for sure!

“That takes money.”

“More than I’ve got.” Frustration had welled up in Mike’s throat, choking him. Working your way through school was hard enough, but it still would cost a small fortune to get started.

Then Dr. Clifton had said quite bluntly, “Play it smart, Dr. Gregory. You are handsome enough to take your pick of girls. Don’t get involved with any of them until you finish your internship, and then marry the richest girl in town.” His right eyebrow had lifted in that intriguing way his society patients found charming. “That’s what I did.”

For a moment Mike had been shocked. You were supposed to marry because you were so much in love you couldn’t live without the girl.

But the feeling of shock passed. Why not plan your marriage as sensibly as you planned your career?

Now in the mirror he saw Meredith appear in the archway. She was wearing a dress of some gossamer yellow material that made her look all golden and radiant.

She came toward him with that .awkward grace and held out her hands. “Oh, you did come!” She sounded happy, and all at once he liked her. Maybe her bad disposition that night had been due to pain. Maybe she wasn’t as bad as Brent had said she was.

She hooked her arm in his. “Come see my gifts, and I want you to meet Dad.”

He remembered the gift in his pocket. A bracelet with little silver horseshoes and four-leaf clovers for charms. Maybe he should give it to her now. But he hesitated, and a few minutes later he was glad he had as he looked down on the table laden with gifts. He counted four bracelets resplendent with platinum and diamonds and emeralds. He whistled, “Not bad, not bad!”

She picked up one of the bracelets, looked at it, and then tossed it back. “Oh, it’s just junk.”

If she considered those bracelets junk, what would she think of the charm bracelet? A bracelet with horseshoes and four-leaf clovers was more Jo’s speed.

“Dad is over here, Mike.” Somehow Mike had pictured Carl Braden differently. A captain of finance, a distinguished “man of distinction.” Instead he was a tall, square, ruddy-faced man, and despite the impeccable tailoring of his evening clothes, he looked out of place among his guests. “Dad, this is Dr. Gregory.” Carl Braden did not hold out his hand. Gray eyes glared at Mike from beneath shaggy eyebrows. “So you’re Dr. Gregory.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I don’t like doctors!” “Dad!” Meredith laughed, but she looked angry, too.

“You all think you are so smart. Why, when Meredith was born — ” he stopped suddenly and put his arm affectionately about Meredith. “What do you think of my girl?”

“She’s all right,” Mike said.” “Let’s dance, Dr. Gregory.” Meredith took hold of his arm and they walked out onto the cement terrace where there was an orchestra. Meredith went easily into his arms, and he smelled the fragrance of her hair. It reminded him of the roses that grew wild over fences in Ebbensville.

“You mustn’t take offense at what Dad said,” she told him. “He has never gotten over my mother’s death. I was born in a wild boom town, and mother died. I think Dad blames himself for not making her go back to the city.”

Mike could imagine Braden in a wild oil town, in leather jacket and khaki pants, bossing a crew of men.

As they danced, Mike saw that the large garden was lighted with strings of lights and there was a long table with a five-tiered cake in the center. The food was set out buffet style and he remembered he had had no dinner.

Someone bumped into them. Meredith said, “Oh, hello, Roger.”

“Happy birthday again, Meredith.” The tall blonde boy’s smile was very stiff.

“That’s Roger Dixon,” Meredith told Mike. “He’s still mad at me because I jilted him practically at the church. But he’ll still be nice to me because his father owes my father money.”

All at once Mike had had enough. But I don’t owe your father anything, he thought. The music started again, and Meredith turned to him. He said, “I’m sorry, but I must go now. I’m on duty at seven in the morning.”

Her face flushed. “Thanks for coming, Dr. Gregory.” He thought he saw hurt in her blue eyes, but he didn’t care. He went out the side gate. Carl Braden was standing there. “You leaving so soon?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Got your car?”

“I don’t own a car.”

“Want my man to drive you home?”

It was a temptation. He was bone-tired. But he didn’t want to be under obligation to Carl Braden for even a ride. “No, thank you, sir.” He walked away, wondering if he had seen admiration in the big man’s eyes, or if it had been a trick of the lights.

He went up the side steps of the hospital, and as he put his hand on the doorknob, he heard Jo call, “Mike — wait.” She was standing in the shadows. “Don’t go in yet.”

They sat on the steps. “Did you have a good time?” she asked.

“Not exactly. Her father hates doctors and told me so. Meredith acted like a rude brat.”

“Don’t feel too bad, Mike.” She moved toward him in a gesture of comfort.

“What’s the matter with me? We laugh at the same jokes, we speak the same language.”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” he said miserably.

“Nothing except that I come from the wrong part of town and my father hasn’t a million dollars, isn’t that it?” she asked in a hurt voice.

Mike took a deep breath. There was much he wanted to tell Jo. He wanted to tell her that his father could have been as wealthy as Dr. Clifton. Instead he doctored people like the Midgleys down by the river. They had a whole tribe of kids, all girls, and every year Dad had delivered a new baby. They always paid him off in eggs that weren’t fresh, and in whole baskets full of parsnips.

A year ago Mike had been home for two days. He hadn’t heard Dad leave because there was a thunderstorm. But when he got up next morning, he found the note, “Gone to Midgleys.” Mike had gone to look for him and found him a mile from home, his car bogged down in mud. He had tried to push the car out and had a heart attack.

Mike had picked him up out of the mud, put him in the car. “You shouldn’t have gone, Dad!”

His throat tightened now, remembering the way Dad had smiled at him. “I got there in time, Mike.”

“And did she pay you off with a bushel of parsnips!”

“No. She gave me the most radiant smile. A boy, Mike, after nine girls.”

Dad said something else, too, but Mike was trying to forget it. He said, “You’ll come back here to practise, won’t you, Son?”

Mike hadn’t promised because he didn’t see how his father could ask such a thing. He’d said, “We’ll talk about that later.” But the next minute Dad was dead.

Now he wanted to tell Jo all that so she would understand. But he couldn’t. He said, “Let’s forget the whole thing, Jo!”

“You’ll see Meredith again, won’t you?” Jo asked.

“Of course I’ll see her again. Someday I’m going to marry her.”

The next morning he thought, It’s your move, dope. You’re supposed to ask Meredith for a date. And where would you take her, pray tell? You’re broke, and payday — such as it is — is a week away.

Two days passed, and he thought of pawning the bracelet, but he didn’t. The bracelet was for Meredith. The next day he got a letter from Uncle Fred in Ebbensville. They were still without a doctor and the nearest hospital was fifty miles away. They were praying he could come back there to practise.

Mike read through the letter. He wasn’t going back there! He could telephone Meredith, talk to her so she wouldn’t forget he existed. That wouldn’t cost money. But when he came out of surgery Miss Adams told him, “Telephone for you, Doctor.”

It was Meredith. “How are you, Mike?”

“Wonderful. It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” She sounded as if she had been crying.

“We’ve been rushed here. I only have one day a week off.”

“Are you free tomorrow night?”

“No, but I could trade nights with someone.”

“Then let’s go somewhere together, Mike. I know you were disgusted with me at my party — ”

“Oh no, I wasn’t. I—”

“The way I talked about Roger Dixon! Let me see you again. We could drive out to The Pines for dinner, and — ”

“Whoa!” Mike laughed. “You’re talking to a poor intern who — ”

“Oh, I’d give you money for everything.”

Mike waged a silent battle with his pride. Then he thought, What difference does it make? She has plenty of money. “All right,” he said. “I’ll be ready at seven.”

As they drove away from the hospital the next evening, Mike saw Jo standing on the steps, a hurt expression on her face. The Pines was crowded and Mike was disturbed to see Carl Braden at a table with four men. Meredith called, “Hi, Dad.” Mike smiled, “Good evening, sir.”

Carl Braden merely nodded curtly. They sat down at a table by the window and Mike looked at the menu. Steaks $4. Mike ordered steak and French fries and pie. The food was good, and Mike ate hungrily, and then as he paid the waitress he saw Carl Braden watching him, contempt in his eyes, and Mike could not quench the feeling of shame.

“Let’s dance, Mike.” Meredith was smiling at him, and he thought, But I can get used to that. He had always been proud that he paid his own way, but he hadn’t tonight!

“Will you give me a date next Thursday?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, I’d like that. What time shall I pick you up?”

“This is my date!” He said it almost harshly. “We’re going on a picnic. Could you meet me at The Hut across from the hospital?”

“I’ll bring the lunch, Mike, and — ”
“I bring the lunch, Meredith!” She smiled. “Okay, Mike.”

Wednesday he saw Jo in the hallway. “A gang of us are going swimming tomorrow. Come along?”

“Sorry, Jo, but I can’t make it.”

The supervisor came by then, and there wasn’t a chance to say anything else and he didn’t see Jo again.

Payday was Thursday. He bought potato salad and hot dogs and buns and soda pop and carried them in a large paper bag. Meredith was waiting for him at The Hut. She was wearing levi’s and a plaid shirt and her long hair was in pigtails. She looked more long-legged than ever and very young.

They took a bus out into the country and then walked a mile to Trapper’s Lake. There was nothing spectacular about the day. They walked along the beach and found shells, and Meredith tied them in a handkerchief to her belt. They rolled their trouser legs up and waded into the lake. When they were hungry, Mike built a fire, and they roasted hot dogs which tasted wonderful.

He looked at Meredith sitting bare-footed and cross-legged, munching a hot dog. “Your nose is going to blister,” he told her.

“I don’t care. I’ve always wanted a blistered nose.” She pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and laughed. And then she said seriously, “Mike, this is the nicest date I have ever had in my life.”

Mike took the charm bracelet out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Happy birthday, Meredith.”

She took the bracelet, her head bent, and when she looked up tears were clinging to her long lashes. “It’s beautiful, Mike.”

He fastened’ it around her wrist. “I had it the night of your party, but I lost courage when I saw the platinum and diamonds.”

“You needn’t have!” she said bitterly. “Those were presents from people trying to get in Dad’s good graces. That’s the way it has been all my life, Mike. I’d think I had found a friend, and then I would discover it wasn’t me he liked, but what I could buy or do for him. But this — ” she held her arm up and the bracelet sparkled in the sun. “You’ve given it to me because you like me, not because of anything Dad can do for you.”

Mike’s heart beat guiltily. He picked up a handful of pebbles and tossed them angrily into the lake.

On the long ride back to the city, Meredith sat close to him happily, the handkerchief of shells tied to her belt. Mike felt comfortable with her. He looked at his watch. “There won’t be time to take you home.”

“That’s all right, Mike. I’ll ride with you to the hospital.”

They stopped in at The Hut for a soda, and as they got up to leave, Jo came in. Mike introduced her to Meredith. He saw the anger in Jo’s eyes too late.

“So this is why you couldn’t go swimming with the gang!” she said. “But then there is nothing quite so important to a poor but ambitious young doctor as seeing that his future is secure.”

“What are you talking about? Mike’s future — ” Meredith’s voice choked off. “Oh . . .”

Mike said, “Shut up, Jo! You’ve said enough!”

Meredith swung around and faced him. “No, let her talk!”

Jo was suddenly contrite. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything.”

“But you were telling the truth!” Meredith’s eyes were brimming with tears. She took off the bracelet and dropped it on the counter. She walked out of The Hut, her head high.

Mike picked up the bracelet, remembering how happy Meredith had been when he gave it to her. “I’m sorry, Mike,” Jo was saying. “I went a bit crazy with jealousy.”

“It’s okay, Jo,” he said wryly, “You were only telling the truth.”

They walked in silence back to the hospital. Jo was on night duty, Mike in emergency. They parted in the lower hall. “See you later, Mike?”

He didn’t answer. He had a lot of thinking to do before he saw Jo or Meredith again. At 4 a.m. Mike went outside for a breath of air, and Jo was waiting for him. “Please say you forgive me, Mike.”

“You know, Jo, I never realized it before, but we are very much alike, you and I.”

“What do you mean?”

“We both know what we want, and we go after it.”

She gave a little laugh. “Is there anything wrong with that?”

Before he could answer, he heard the wail of an ambulance siren in the distance. He rushed back into the hospital, and all the time he was setting bones and patching torn bodies he was thinking of his father and of Jo loving him and wanting the same easy life he had wanted. And he thought of Meredith, the way she had been at the lake today. When seven o’clock came and he was off duty, he knew what he was going to do.

Carl Braden looked more formidable than ever seated behind the large desk in his library. He said, “I was expecting you, Dr. Gregory.”

“Then I’ll get to the point. I want to marry Meredith.”

“That would be a nice setup for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Very nice,” Mike said. “You see, sir, my father was a country doctor. He died penniless. I was determined not to have that happen to me, so I made up my mind to marry the richest girl in town and use her money to get a start. Meredith is the richest girl in town.”

“At least you’re frank!” the big man said bitterly. “Listen, Gregory, I know Meredith is in love with you, and if marrying you is the thing that will make her happy, I’ll give my consent, but don’t think I don’t know the score. And if you don’t make her happy, I’ll — ”

“For awhile that was all I thought of,” Mike went on, as if Braden had not spoken. “The struggle my father had. But there was something else I had forgotten. When my father was buried, the whole town turned out to do him honor. They walked behind his coffin to the cemetery with uncovered heads. He was a beloved man, a happy man whose life had been spent in service. My father was a rich man, and he left me a heritage that is going to be difficult to be worthy of.”

“And so?”

“I’m going back to Ebbensville to practise. I want to marry Meredith and take her with me. And the reason I came to see you was to tell you to keep hands off. I don’t want one penny of your money. Meredith will have to live on what I earn.”

Carl Braden sat forward, and there was respect in his eyes. “And you think she will agree to that?”

Mike said softly, “I’m hoping I can make her believe I love her, sir.”

“Go ask her then. She’s out in the garden.”

“And if she says yes, you’ll keep hands off?”

“I’ll keep hands off. Good luck!”

Meredith was on her knees in the garden, trowel in hand. Mike said, “Meredith. . . .”

She turned her head, and his heart gave a surge of hope at the look of gladness in her eyes, and then it was gone. She stood up. “What do you want?”

“Your father has just given his consent to our marriage.”

“Does he know you’re marrying me for my money!”

“He knows everything.”

“And still he consented!” Her mouth trembled. “He thinks he can buy me anything, even a husband. Well, I’ve got something to say — ”

He caught her in his arms. “Listen to me, Meredith. I told your father he had to disinherit you or the deal was off. I love you, and I’m asking you to be the wife of a country doctor. We’ll be lucky if we can afford a two-room apartment above a garage, and you’ll have to make curtains and scrub floors — ”

He stopped, the enormity of what he was asking of her sweeping over him. “I can’t ask you to live like that when — ”

She threw her arms around his neck. “You asked me to marry you, Dr. Michael Gregory, and that’s what you’ve got to do!” Over her shoulder he saw Carl Braden standing in the doorway.

Mike had the feeling that Braden didn’t hate doctors so much anymore.