Staff Feature: Abbey Downey
Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, NY
August 1914
“Anna Beth Kendall, I know that expression. I accompanied you to a swimming competition at your parents’ request. That better be all that’s going on here.”
Crossing her arms over her high-waisted dress and likely crumpling the lace along the bodice, Anna Beth forced her attention away from the line of young women standing on the sandy beach wearing calf-length silk tunics and bathing caps. Spectators, press, and officials hired by the National Women’s Life Saving League gathered around the swimmers, awaiting the start of the race. If she got distracted by her companion, she would miss the moment she’d been working toward for months.
But Jonathan Parker’s demanding words rankled. Her nerves about the day spurred a response she’d been longing to deliver since the first time her parents insisted she let him call on her. “If it bothers you to see women fighting to do the same things men are freely allowed to do, then I suggest you leave. And don’t worry about escorting me to the opera next week. I’ll manage fine on my own from now on.”
Jonathan’s sharply-cut chin rose in the air, and he all but sniffed in derision. “Fine. I can recognize when I’m not wanted.”
A slight pang hit Anna Beth as she watched Jonathan stomp away—as well as one could stomp in ankle-deep sand, anyway. Her parents wouldn’t be happy she’d told him to go, and she certainly could have been kinder about it. But she couldn’t muster a bit of regret for finally being rid of his dour outlook and old-fashioned expectations.
Behind Anna Beth, a decidedly more friendly male voice cut through the shouts of children enjoying the beach and the cawing of seagulls overhead. “Ah, excuse me. I’m looking for the designer of these ladies’ swimming costumes. I was told to come over here.”
Thankful it wasn’t Jonathan returning, Anna Beth offered a real smile as she turned around—only to find herself drowning in a pair of blue eyes that rivaled the clearest, brightest pool water she’d ever seen. And they were fixed quizzically on her. Right. The designer. “You’re in luck. I designed the outfits they’ll swim in today.”
A half smile lifted one corner of the man’s wide lips as if he was delighted to learn that fact while at the same time completely unsurprised by it. He stepped forward with his hand outstretched to shake hers. “Jake Lamont. I’m a writer for the Tribune. I thought our female readers might enjoy a story about how the female swimmers’ garments impact their speed and movement in competitions. Perhaps you could give me some insights?”
Anna Beth’s pulse jumped. This was her chance to put the cause her swimmer friends had worked so hard for in the spotlight. “I would love to. But I would advise you to wait until the race is over. I think you’ll have a much bigger story to tell then.”
One dark eyebrow arched. “You’ve captured my attention, Miss…?”
Anna Beth’s mouth went dry with the thought that perhaps he meant those words on a more personal level. But surely not. They’d barely even met. “Anna Beth Kendall.”
His smile broadened, and she realized he still held her hand in his warm, strong grip. “I’m quite pleased to meet you.”
Their eyes locked until one of the officials started calling for the crowd to quiet down. Together, Mr. Lamont and Anna Beth turned to watch what she knew was going to be a moment no one expected. When the official signaled for the swimmers to get ready, the women acted in unison, tugging off their socially acceptable tunics to reveal new bathing costumes, the ones Anna Beth had fussed over and worried about. These garments, slim and form-fitting, also revealed the ladies’ bare legs and shoulders. They were downright scandalous. And so much better suited to speed in the water.
Murmurs rose across the beach. The officials withdrew and clumped together, likely discussing whether the costumes violated the rules of the Amateur Athletic Union. On the beach, the women stood tall and strong, one even holding a “Votes for Women” sign someone had handed her.
Pride welled in Anna Beth’s chest. Being allowed to wear appropriate clothing for their sport was the first step toward women across the country gaining more independence. And creating those bathing costumes was the small part Anna Beth got to play.
Next to her, Mr. Lamont finished scribbling notes and glanced her way. She hesitated to meet his gaze, though. If it had been Jonathan, he would have curled his lips in distaste at the immodest display. Many men would be angry. What would Mr. Lamont’s expression hold? But maybe more importantly, why did it matter what this reporter thought of her beliefs?
Drawing a strengthening breath, Anna Beth tipped her face up toward him and examined his handsome face. Raised eyebrows, but paired with a slowly growing smile that made her feel as if she could take on the world.
Mr. Lamont cleared his throat. “Well, now I’m all the more curious to learn everything I can about the woman behind those perfectly outrageous costumes. It appears they’re getting ready to swim, and I don’t want to miss that. Perhaps you’d allow me to escort you to the soda shop afterward?”
Anna Beth’s pulse skittered wildly. “To appease your readers’ curiosity, I assume?”
Mr. Lamont leaned closer than necessary, giving her a whiff of citrus pomade. “On the contrary. This is…a more personal request.”
He was asking her to step out with him without the benefit of her parents’ approval or socially acceptable calls at her home.
How liberating.
How charming.
How utterly, exactly what she’d been waiting for.
A flutter stirred in Anna Beth’s stomach. As her friends sliced through the water on their way to achieving their dreams, she hoped the man of hers might be standing right there on the beach.
After growing up throughout the Midwest, Abbey settled in central Indiana, where her family has lived since the 1840s. She fills her days with fixing up a few acres in the country and hanging out with her husband, two kids, and one rather enthusiastic beagle.
Connect with Abbey online at Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and her website.
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