Hemingway's Girl Read Online Free PDF

an old, threadbare blanket.
    Why did she continue to entertain her foolish dream? It would cost her a thousand
     dollars or more to start the business. Her mother had told her that her father’s boat
     had been battered beyond repair and had been hauled away to a boat graveyard somewhere
     on Stock Island, or farther north. It was bad enough when they just needed to replace
     the engine. Now she needed a whole new boat, a slip at the dock, money for fuel, and
     a million other things.
    Mariella stood and put on one of the two identical workdresses Pauline had sent over—a starchy navy blue smock with white trim. Though she
     hated the idea of working indoors, away from the water and in a dress all day, she
     was at least glad she didn’t have to do it in any of her ill-fitting, worn clothing.
    She crept out of her room, grateful that Eva still slept. They’d fought the night
     before when Mariella told Eva about her new job with the Hemingways. Mariella could
     have told her she was working as a prostitute and gotten a better reaction. Eva thought
     Hemingway wrote filth and had a bad reputation. Mariella said that might be true,
     but he also paid well and regularly—four dollars a day, and overtime for weekends
     or parties. That would almost cover rent, and if she could win gambling money and
     keep up with odd jobs, they could survive.
    On her way to the kitchen, Mariella looked into her mother’s room. Eva lay asleep,
     curled around one of Hal’s old shirts. It filled Mariella with sadness, and she felt
     guilty for being hard on her mother, but she just made it so difficult.
    Mariella continued to the kitchen and made Estelle and Lulu a quick breakfast. They
     had only two eggs and a heel of a bread loaf left to split, but it would have to do.
     They were lucky to have anything for breakfast at all. She knew of many families who
     didn’t, and had herself gone to school and work with an empty stomach plenty of times.
     Mariella was at least glad the sisters at the free Catholic school would give the
     girls a good lunch.
    After dropping off the girls for morning prayer, Mariella arrived at the Hemingway
     house. In spite of her nerves, she admired it in the early-morning sun. Twin porches
     wrapped around the Spanish-styled facade, and its thick, tropical landscaping seemed
     reminiscent of Eden. She passed two peacocks grazing in the grass and walked up to
     the front door to knock. She suddenly felt very anxious and out of place while she
     waited for an answer.
    A minute passed, then two. The butterflies in Mariella’s stomach now felt like full-on
     nausea, and she wondered whether sheshould try another entrance or just leave. She made a move to step off the porch when
     the door was opened by a heavyset black woman. She took no trouble to hide her impatience
     and looked Mariella over from head to toe before suddenly breaking into a huge, warm
     smile.
    “The answer to my prayers!” she said. Mariella had an urge to look behind her, but
     knew that the woman was speaking about her, and smiled.
    “You must be Mariella,” said the woman, opening the door and thrusting an apron at
     her. “I’m Isabelle, and I need a pair of young hands around here.”
    She grabbed Mariella’s hands and grunted in approval before hustling her into the
     kitchen. It didn’t take long for Mariella to learn that the household wasn’t as peaceful
     within as it looked from the outside.
    Hemingway’s boys, six-year-old Patrick and three-year-old Gregory, played an intense
     game of cowboys and Indians all morning. They jumped on the furniture, slammed the
     doors, and rattled the china. Pauline shooed them out to the yard, but Jim, the gardener,
     shooed them back in. Isabelle spanked their hands when they tried to steal food from
     the kitchen, and Ada spanked their behinds when they fought or cried or yelled.
    Pauline pulled Mariella away from Isabelle, much to the cook’s dismay, and instructed
     Mariella on which