Page 39 of Inventing Vivian

Chapter 10

Miss Kirby,

I very much understand your feelings of worry. Fulfilling the expectations of people whose opinions are important to us can feel like a duty that is difficult to manage. I have recently taken on new responsibilities, and I struggle to know how to do them justice. I not only worry about disappointing my family but so many who depend on me for their livelihoods. And I fear to make a mistake that will have repercussions for others.

I struggle with how the duties were managed before, but I worry to change them, though change them I must if I am to keep from disappointing myself. But in doing so, I may disappoint everyone else. There is a balance to be maintained, and I dread doing it incorrectly.

I realize I speak in riddles, but it is a relief to know I have a person to confide in, even though you do not understand the details of my quandary.

I must admit to feelings of jealousy when you described your relationship with your father. My own father is a difficult man to understand and an even more difficult man to please. I suppose a person never grows too old to want his parents’ approval. But I believe they already expect me to fail.

I am very pleased to hear about your booth. Please tell me how it looks when it is all completed.

Your friend

Vivian felt the corners of the letter through the fabric of her reticule as she stood in front of the booth in her assigned area in the Crystal Palace, imagining exactly how she’d describe it to her benefactor in her response. Or would he come in person to see it?

She’d felt an ache, reading about his relationship with his father. She could not imagine the discouragement that must come from a lack of parental support. She wanted to write back immediately, reassuring him that he would manage his new responsibilities brilliantly. Of course he would. Though she knew so little about him, she didn’t take lightly the trust he’d placed in her by sharing personal confidences. And she felt a connection to the man, a friendship, even without knowing his name. She worried about him, thought of him often, and when she did, the thoughts were accompanied by an affectionate warmth...

She blinked, turning her attention back to the booth, watching as Dahlia directed Elizabeth, Hazel, and Sophie in the hanging of the booth’s wooden sign. The other women stood beneath, holding the framed wooden board, while Elizabeth balanced on a stepladder, adjusting the links in the chain attaching the sign to the booth’s crossbar and trying to make it hang evenly according to Dahlia’s directions.

The building was crowded, and noise echoed from the high ceilings as entrants put up their booths, hauled crates, and assembled displays. Vivian itched to walk through the exhibit hall and see all the entries. She’d glimpsed an enormous telescope in passing as well as various photographic devices, but as far as she’d seen, hers was the only motorized bicycle.

She smiled at the sight of her display area. As far as she was concerned, it was perfect. The ladies of the Blue Orchid Society had spent the last three days sanding and painting and hammering to create the booth.

Dahlia had suggested the side walls of the booth should come forward at an angle to better showcase the Personal Propulsion Vehicle, or PPV, as the ladies had taken to calling it. Though it had taken extra supports and crossbars and, for Devon, added trips to the lumberyard and ironmonger’s shop, the final result was even better than Vivian had envisioned.

The walls of the display were painted a warm tan color with the schematics of the design and diagrams of the engine pinned to them. Red-velvet curtains were hung and pulled back on the corners, making the booth resemble a stage. The center space was left open for the PPV, which Vivian and Devon would transport and deliver the day before the exhibition’s opening.

But the part of the display that gave Vivian a thrill each time she looked at it was the grand sign that hung overhead.

Kirby’s Personal Propulsion Vehicle

The words, painted in red letters with gold trim, made the entire endeavor at last feel real. Once the sign was hung to Dahlia’s satisfaction, the other ladies came around to the front to admire their work. The booth looked splendid, not merely because of the design and construction but because, with the sun shining in through the glass ceiling of the exhibition hall, it was nothing short of marvelous.

“This is really happening,” Vivian said, feeling awed at the sight. If she were the sort of person to feel poetic, this would be the moment for it.

“It is.” Hazel linked her arm with Vivian’s.

Elizabeth did the same on the other side, giving a squeeze.

“The sign looks very professional,” Sophie said. “Dahlia, you truly have an eye for design.”

“Each of you contributed.” Dahlia put her hands on her hips, tipping her head as she studied the sign. She had chosen the lettering design and paint color. An artist who worked for Sophie at the newspaper office had transferred the lettering to an enlarged sheet of wood, and the ladies had all helped paint it. “But I really do have an eye for design.”

The other ladies laughed, and Vivian thought the moment utterly perfect. She looked upward, admiring the enormous sheets of glass that made up the spectacular venue. She had read that the interior height of the Crystal Palace exhibit hall was 128 feet high. It felt fitting that the latest technology should be exhibited in such a modern building. And the glass itself was a scientific marvel. Neither a liquid nor a solid, it existed in a perpetual state of metastability.

“Do you think your mystery sponsor will attend the exhibition?” Dahlia said.

“Perhaps he’s here now,” Sophie said.

“I do hope he comes,” Vivian replied. She glanced around, trying to see whether a person of noble birth seemed to be paying particular attention to her booth. “I am eager to meet him.”

“A person who hides his identity is up to no good, I assure you,” Elizabeth said. “He should not be trusted.”

Vivian felt a surge of defensiveness for her patron. “I told you what he said. He doesn’t want his status to distract from the PPV.”

“Very thoughtful of him,” Hazel said in her quiet voice.

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