VIOLA!!!!!
“There a reason you don’t want me to meet ‘Mercy’?” I asked.
“Andy Mercy is a rookie, Ms. Clare,” Jack said, looking forward. “He wouldn’t know the first thing about protecting anybody.”
“Ain’t you a nice fella,” I said sarcastically.
“Ain’t I, though?” he laughed. “Where do you two live?”
“Just down the street,” I said, leading the way with Allan. I got to the dark apartment building and took out my key. “This is it,” I said. “Home sweet home.” I lead him up the stairs, opened the door, and turned on the lights.
“Get down!” Jack roared, shoving Allan and me down on the floor. I heard gunshots and then more as Jack returned fire.
Suddenly there was silence.
“Is everyone okay?” Jack asked, his voice breaking unevenly.
“Yeah, I think so,” I said. “Allan?”
“Here, mum,” I heard him call. I sighed deeply.
“Thank God,” I whispered. Tears came into my eyes. “Oh thank God.” Allan crawled into my arms in an array of glass.
“Thank God, mum,” he said innocently. “He always protects us.”
“He has a pretty good idea of protection,” Jack said sarcastically.
“Excuse me,” I said. “A little less negativity.”
“Sorry,” Jack said. I could tell he didn’t mean it.
“C’mon, Allan, let’s get you to bed,” I said, taking his hand.
“Ms. Clare, there’s no way you’re staying here tonight,” Jack said seriously. “I’m calling Chief.” I shrugged my shoulders.
“Allan, let’s go get packed,” I said. Allan and I walked to the dresser and began packing our few possessions into suitcases. I helped Allan into his pajamas. I picked him up and he fell asleep with his head on my shoulder.
Jack hung the telephone up and turned to me.
“Chief says we have to find you somewhere else to stay,” Jack said.
“I have a feeling you know where,” I said, shifting Allan’s weight.
“Yeah,” he said, picking up our bags. “Mercy’s got a car waiting.” We snuck downstairs and jumped into the back seat of Mercy’s car. Mercy turned from the driver’s seat.
“Hey there, I’m Andy Mercy,” he said. “Just call me Andy.”
“I’m Kristy Clare, Andy,” I replied, quickly shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Pedal to the metal, Mercy,” Jack said roughly. “We’re not being followed just yet.”
“Yes, sir,” Andy said. Allan woke up half way through the journey, but I lulled him back to sleep.
“Mum?” Jack asked, walking into the big house. He lived in the middle of the country, too; or at least his mum did. “Mum?” he called again.
“I’m coming,” she said. She came out of the kitchen in a bathrobe. “Chief called earlier to explain the situation. Hey there, Andy! And you must be Ms. Clare!”
“Just Kristy,” I said quietly. “This is Allan.”
“I’m Emilia Wilson. He’s adorable,” she smiled. “I’ll take you to your rooms.” She took us to a small child’s room. “Here’s where Allan’ll sleep.”
“Excuse me, I’m so sorry, but do you mind if Allan sleeps with me? I’d feel safer if he did for now,” I said. I wasn’t all that willing to let him go when there were killers after us.
“Oh, sure. Less sheets to wash,” she said. She lead us to another big room. “Here you go. G’night, Ms. Clare.”
“Kristy, please,” I smiled.
“Good night, Kristy,” she replied. “Sleep well, both of you."
----------------------------------------------------<3
<3>
Friday, August 21, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
>_< Impatience
Allan and I took the bus back to Alice’s house. The police swamped Alice’s porch, house, and yard. But they also created a block around a car, which left soon after we came.
“Hello, Ms. Clare,” a uniformed officer said, putting his hand out. “I’m Chief Cratt. We found the guy who did this to Mrs. Brown, he’s in custody. The only problem is that we need someone to testify that he was there.”
“I’ll testify,” I said.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Don’t ask me again, sir,” I touched his shoulder. “If I said I’d do it, I’ll do it.”
“You’ll need protection,” he said.
“I’ll take whatever protection precautions you deem necessary,” I said.
“Okay, you wait over there and I’ll send an officer over,” he said pointing. “You’re aware that you’ll be having an officer in your house from this day till a month after you testify.”
“I have a couch,” I laughed. “Chief, don’t worry about it.”
I watched the Chief walk to various officers and whisper in their ears. Each of them shook their head or just said no. Finally, one of them shrugged his shoulders and started walking over to me.
“Hello, Ms. Clare,” the man said, looking at me with genteel grey eyes. “I’m the policeman who will be protecting you while you’re testifying.”
“I don’t need protecting, Detective,” I said stubbornly. “My son does, but I don’t.”
“Well, then I’m protecting him,” he said, shrugging his shoulders again. “By the way, I’m Detective Jack Stork, Ms. Clare.”
“Kristy Clare,” I said, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you, Detective. My son’s over there – his name’s Allan; adores policemen, firemen, any kind of public service man, really. You’ll be getting a lot of attention from him, Detective Stork.”
“It will be a pleasure to find someone who like us law enforcement,” Detective Jack said, smiling at me. “And you don’t have to call me Detective Stork. Just call me Jack.” He wasn’t exactly handsome, but he had a nice face; pretty grey eyes; a pretty bashed up nose and all the regular features a young cop seem to have. He wasn’t fat, but he wasn’t a stick either. Seemed like he just had a muscle build.
“Okay then, Jack,” I said. I watched him go over to Allan. He seemed really familiar.
“Hello, sir,” Allan said, looking quite sad.
“Hey there,” Jack replied. “I’m Detective Stork – you can call me Jack though.”
“Does anyone else call you Jack?” Allan asked, only half-curious.
“Naw, not really,” he said. “But you can be a first. What’s your name?”
“Name’s Allan Joshua Clare,” Allan said.
“Well it’s nice to meet you, Allan Joshua Clare,” Jack said, shaking hands with my son. “I’m the policeman protecting you and your mom.”
“Oh,” Allan said. There was a silence and for a second I didn’t want them to talk.
“You know, Allan,” Jack said, taking a sigh and leaning on Alice’s porch steps. “You know, I grew up in the slums. I was dumped in St. Mary’s orphanage.”
“Really?” Allan said. He wasn’t interested at he normally was, but he was listening.
“Yeah, I got adopted by these two old people. They raised me and loved me,” he explained. “My adopted dad was a cop, so I always wanted to be one too.”
“Uh huh,” Allan said. “Mum grew up in St. Mary’s orphanage, Jack.”
“Oh really?” he said looking at me. I don’t know why, but I blushed.
“Yeah, really; thought you were familiar,” I replied. “Allan, you ready to go home?”
“Yeah, mum,” he said. We both stood up, preparing ourselves for a tedious trek home. We grabbed each other’s hands and started out of Alice’s alley way.
“Excuse me, Ms. Clare? You too, Jack,” the police chief said. Jack and I came to stand by the chief. “Ms. Clare, you know you are a witness that needs protecting. And Jack here is the guy protectin’ you right?”
“Right, chief, but my son’s the one who needs protecting, not me,” I said.
“Why’s that?” Chief asked.
“They’ll use my son to get to me, Chief. They won’t touch me,” I said quietly.
“I hope you’ve gotta couch in your living room, because Jack’s not going anywhere till you and your son are safe, Ms. Clare,” he said.
“Now wait a second, Chief,” Jack said. “I don’t want to intrude on Ms. Clare and I don’t have so much as a toothbrush packed!”
“Ms. Clare?” the Chief asked. “It’s up to you, but you need protecting.”
“It’s alright with me; I have toothbrushes at my house,” I said. There wasn’t a whole lot I could do about it now. I had to stay alive to raise Allan. “But if Jack here needs to get his stuff, then I guess you could send another officer with us.”
“Naw,” Jack said. “I’ll give Mercy the key and tell him what to get and where to get it in my apartment, Chief.”
“Okay, it’s settled then,” Chief said. “Bye, Ms. Clare, Allan, Jack.”
“Bye, Chief,” Allan said. Jack and I nodded.
NOW I bet that none of you whooped when the genteel officer with grey eyes came unto this virtual page. :(
<3>
“Hello, Ms. Clare,” a uniformed officer said, putting his hand out. “I’m Chief Cratt. We found the guy who did this to Mrs. Brown, he’s in custody. The only problem is that we need someone to testify that he was there.”
“I’ll testify,” I said.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Don’t ask me again, sir,” I touched his shoulder. “If I said I’d do it, I’ll do it.”
“You’ll need protection,” he said.
“I’ll take whatever protection precautions you deem necessary,” I said.
“Okay, you wait over there and I’ll send an officer over,” he said pointing. “You’re aware that you’ll be having an officer in your house from this day till a month after you testify.”
“I have a couch,” I laughed. “Chief, don’t worry about it.”
I watched the Chief walk to various officers and whisper in their ears. Each of them shook their head or just said no. Finally, one of them shrugged his shoulders and started walking over to me.
“Hello, Ms. Clare,” the man said, looking at me with genteel grey eyes. “I’m the policeman who will be protecting you while you’re testifying.”
“I don’t need protecting, Detective,” I said stubbornly. “My son does, but I don’t.”
“Well, then I’m protecting him,” he said, shrugging his shoulders again. “By the way, I’m Detective Jack Stork, Ms. Clare.”
“Kristy Clare,” I said, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you, Detective. My son’s over there – his name’s Allan; adores policemen, firemen, any kind of public service man, really. You’ll be getting a lot of attention from him, Detective Stork.”
“It will be a pleasure to find someone who like us law enforcement,” Detective Jack said, smiling at me. “And you don’t have to call me Detective Stork. Just call me Jack.” He wasn’t exactly handsome, but he had a nice face; pretty grey eyes; a pretty bashed up nose and all the regular features a young cop seem to have. He wasn’t fat, but he wasn’t a stick either. Seemed like he just had a muscle build.
“Okay then, Jack,” I said. I watched him go over to Allan. He seemed really familiar.
“Hello, sir,” Allan said, looking quite sad.
“Hey there,” Jack replied. “I’m Detective Stork – you can call me Jack though.”
“Does anyone else call you Jack?” Allan asked, only half-curious.
“Naw, not really,” he said. “But you can be a first. What’s your name?”
“Name’s Allan Joshua Clare,” Allan said.
“Well it’s nice to meet you, Allan Joshua Clare,” Jack said, shaking hands with my son. “I’m the policeman protecting you and your mom.”
“Oh,” Allan said. There was a silence and for a second I didn’t want them to talk.
“You know, Allan,” Jack said, taking a sigh and leaning on Alice’s porch steps. “You know, I grew up in the slums. I was dumped in St. Mary’s orphanage.”
“Really?” Allan said. He wasn’t interested at he normally was, but he was listening.
“Yeah, I got adopted by these two old people. They raised me and loved me,” he explained. “My adopted dad was a cop, so I always wanted to be one too.”
“Uh huh,” Allan said. “Mum grew up in St. Mary’s orphanage, Jack.”
“Oh really?” he said looking at me. I don’t know why, but I blushed.
“Yeah, really; thought you were familiar,” I replied. “Allan, you ready to go home?”
“Yeah, mum,” he said. We both stood up, preparing ourselves for a tedious trek home. We grabbed each other’s hands and started out of Alice’s alley way.
“Excuse me, Ms. Clare? You too, Jack,” the police chief said. Jack and I came to stand by the chief. “Ms. Clare, you know you are a witness that needs protecting. And Jack here is the guy protectin’ you right?”
“Right, chief, but my son’s the one who needs protecting, not me,” I said.
“Why’s that?” Chief asked.
“They’ll use my son to get to me, Chief. They won’t touch me,” I said quietly.
“I hope you’ve gotta couch in your living room, because Jack’s not going anywhere till you and your son are safe, Ms. Clare,” he said.
“Now wait a second, Chief,” Jack said. “I don’t want to intrude on Ms. Clare and I don’t have so much as a toothbrush packed!”
“Ms. Clare?” the Chief asked. “It’s up to you, but you need protecting.”
“It’s alright with me; I have toothbrushes at my house,” I said. There wasn’t a whole lot I could do about it now. I had to stay alive to raise Allan. “But if Jack here needs to get his stuff, then I guess you could send another officer with us.”
“Naw,” Jack said. “I’ll give Mercy the key and tell him what to get and where to get it in my apartment, Chief.”
“Okay, it’s settled then,” Chief said. “Bye, Ms. Clare, Allan, Jack.”
“Bye, Chief,” Allan said. Jack and I nodded.
NOW I bet that none of you whooped when the genteel officer with grey eyes came unto this virtual page. :(
<3>
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
More of Kristy's Story (PLEASE i need name help!)
After Alice has settled Allan in the kitchen with some cookies, she brought some cookies and coffee out for us on the porch. Alice put a plate down on the table and sat down next to me in her rocker.
“Look, I just got…,” she said, handing me a camera.
“Excuse me, miss,” a hobo said to Alice. “D’ya have a moment? I’d be much obliged.”
“Sure,” Alice said, wiping her hands on her apron and standing up.
“Alice…,” I said.
“No, it’s alright, Kristy,” Alice said. “I live to help the people.” She winked. “C’mon after him if I don’t come back.”
I waited… and waited… and waited… and, when I finally had enough, I got up and went into the back alley. Alice was laying there on her back. And there was this guy, with a long white scar on his neck, running backwards.
“Alice, Alice, stay with me,” I said, gently patting her hand. “C’mon, Alice.”
“What?” she asked groggily. “Kristy, what happened?”
“I don’t know, Alice, give me a minute,” I said. “Allan?” I called. “Allan!”
“Yeah, I mean yes, mum,” Allan responded from the porch. “What’cha need?”
“Okay, Allan, I need you to go call on Doctor Farrow,” I said. “Alice’s hurt. I need you to go. Tell him to bring tons of bandages – and that we might need to go to the hospital.”
“Okay, mum,” Allan said.
“Run, Allan, run!” I yelled.
“Okay, mum,” he repeated. I heard his footsteps along the street and prayed that he would get there and back safely.
“Kristy?” Doctor Farrow called. I sighed. He had delivered Allan – and was Allan’s uncle, whether he knew it or not – I trusted him a lot. “Kristy, what happened? Where’s Alice?” He saw Alice on the floor next to me. “Oh, God. I can’t treat this, we need to take her to the hospital. Help me carry her, will you, Kristy?”
“Allan, sit in front and wait for us,” I said, while lifting Alice up and maneuvering her into Doctor Farrow’s car.
“She’s been stabbed at least twice,” he said, closing the door. “I don’t know if she’ll make it.” The car’s engine turned over and then called itself to life. Doctor Farrow sped through the streets to the hospital. He ran into the hospital and came out with a team of doctors and nurses who took Alice away.
“Wait, what’s happening?” I asked. “What’s happening? Please tell me!” I begged the nurses. No answer. Doctor Farrow finally came out of one of the sections of the hospital labeled no entrance, doctors only.
“Dr. Farrow,” I said, standing in his way. “Tell me what’s up with Alice.”
“I don’t know, Kristy, I don’t know,” he replied running a hand through his grey hair. “It doesn’t look good, but the doctors are trying to pull Ms. Brown back together again. In the meantime, why don’t you go back to the house, the police have to ask you some questions.”
“Okay,” I said quietly. “Okay…”
----------------------------------------------------
commentos, darlings!
Asiat
“Look, I just got…,” she said, handing me a camera.
“Excuse me, miss,” a hobo said to Alice. “D’ya have a moment? I’d be much obliged.”
“Sure,” Alice said, wiping her hands on her apron and standing up.
“Alice…,” I said.
“No, it’s alright, Kristy,” Alice said. “I live to help the people.” She winked. “C’mon after him if I don’t come back.”
I waited… and waited… and waited… and, when I finally had enough, I got up and went into the back alley. Alice was laying there on her back. And there was this guy, with a long white scar on his neck, running backwards.
“Alice, Alice, stay with me,” I said, gently patting her hand. “C’mon, Alice.”
“What?” she asked groggily. “Kristy, what happened?”
“I don’t know, Alice, give me a minute,” I said. “Allan?” I called. “Allan!”
“Yeah, I mean yes, mum,” Allan responded from the porch. “What’cha need?”
“Okay, Allan, I need you to go call on Doctor Farrow,” I said. “Alice’s hurt. I need you to go. Tell him to bring tons of bandages – and that we might need to go to the hospital.”
“Okay, mum,” Allan said.
“Run, Allan, run!” I yelled.
“Okay, mum,” he repeated. I heard his footsteps along the street and prayed that he would get there and back safely.
“Kristy?” Doctor Farrow called. I sighed. He had delivered Allan – and was Allan’s uncle, whether he knew it or not – I trusted him a lot. “Kristy, what happened? Where’s Alice?” He saw Alice on the floor next to me. “Oh, God. I can’t treat this, we need to take her to the hospital. Help me carry her, will you, Kristy?”
“Allan, sit in front and wait for us,” I said, while lifting Alice up and maneuvering her into Doctor Farrow’s car.
“She’s been stabbed at least twice,” he said, closing the door. “I don’t know if she’ll make it.” The car’s engine turned over and then called itself to life. Doctor Farrow sped through the streets to the hospital. He ran into the hospital and came out with a team of doctors and nurses who took Alice away.
“Wait, what’s happening?” I asked. “What’s happening? Please tell me!” I begged the nurses. No answer. Doctor Farrow finally came out of one of the sections of the hospital labeled no entrance, doctors only.
“Dr. Farrow,” I said, standing in his way. “Tell me what’s up with Alice.”
“I don’t know, Kristy, I don’t know,” he replied running a hand through his grey hair. “It doesn’t look good, but the doctors are trying to pull Ms. Brown back together again. In the meantime, why don’t you go back to the house, the police have to ask you some questions.”
“Okay,” I said quietly. “Okay…”
----------------------------------------------------
commentos, darlings!
Asiat
Monday, August 3, 2009
Post On Men (and other thoughts)
okay, so maybe not completely about men. But, truly, what makes Mr. Darcy so much more alluring than some hen-pecked idiot? (other than the whole hen-pecked idiot, I suppose) My hen-pecked idiot example: Detective Jack Stork (from Kristy's Story [prohibition])
Fitzwilliam Darcy *pros*
1. Handsome
2. Arrogant?
3. Willingness to admit faults (when not too arrogant)
4. He's in a classic novel known as one of the greatest romance novels of all time.
Jack Stork *pros*
1. Handsome with not too many imperfections
2. Hen-pecked-ness
3. Humbleness with a touch of old-fashioned dignity
4. He loves his mum (and where's cool spats)
Darcy *cons*
1. Arrogance
2. He's like two hundred years old
3. We know his every fault and mishap
4. He's English (Yes, that's not always a good thing)
Stork *cons*
1. He's not THAT handsome
2. His love for his mun makes him a moma's-boy
3. He's a cop - which puts him in dangerous situations
4. He lives in a time period where alcohol isn't permitted (which is SO terrible)
Any more? COMMENTO
(AND NO, it's wasn't a collaborative effort, the last blog post. B and Antony kind of appeared whilst my publishing it, so I added them into the big ole' cauldron)
I'd rather do a job I liked and not be good at it than do a job I hated well. - Unkown
Asiat
PS: Vortican, when are we jumping ship for the Ren Fest? ECPM want's to come!
Fitzwilliam Darcy *pros*
1. Handsome
2. Arrogant?
3. Willingness to admit faults (when not too arrogant)
4. He's in a classic novel known as one of the greatest romance novels of all time.
Jack Stork *pros*
1. Handsome with not too many imperfections
2. Hen-pecked-ness
3. Humbleness with a touch of old-fashioned dignity
4. He loves his mum (and where's cool spats)
Darcy *cons*
1. Arrogance
2. He's like two hundred years old
3. We know his every fault and mishap
4. He's English (Yes, that's not always a good thing)
Stork *cons*
1. He's not THAT handsome
2. His love for his mun makes him a moma's-boy
3. He's a cop - which puts him in dangerous situations
4. He lives in a time period where alcohol isn't permitted (which is SO terrible)
Any more? COMMENTO
(AND NO, it's wasn't a collaborative effort, the last blog post. B and Antony kind of appeared whilst my publishing it, so I added them into the big ole' cauldron)
I'd rather do a job I liked and not be good at it than do a job I hated well. - Unkown
Asiat
PS: Vortican, when are we jumping ship for the Ren Fest? ECPM want's to come!
Saturday, August 1, 2009
lol. (she's going to be killed for inconsistency)
Once upon a time, in the city of Pittsburgh, a writer got really sick of characters she knew through and through. So what did she do? She started a new book. So far, it's unnamed. Setting: the Prohibition...
----------------------------------------- <3
Allan put a warm, sticky hand in mine. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, climbing out of bed. He looked up at me and grinned, “Hallo, mum. We going to church?”
“No, not today, honey,” I said, brushing the blonde curls from his face. “Today’s Saturday. We’re going to go to Alice’s house for some tea, okay?”
“Okay!” Allan replied exuberantly, jumping up and down.
“Alright then,” I smiled. “First we’ve got to brush our teeth and get dressed…”
“And eat breakfast!” Allan added.
“And eat breakfast,” I agreed. Allan dragged me from the bed and started the morning process – brushing his teeth with my help and so on. I sat Allan down in one of the chairs of the kitchen table and he chattered to me about school.
“Mum,” he asked, “Why don’t you wear red today? You look so pretty in red. And some of the eye-stuff. Like you used to when I was little.”
I laughed, “You want me to wear makeup?”
“Yeah; I mean, yes,” he corrected himself. “I want you to look pretty!”
“Okay. First things first, though,” I said, putting a sunny-side-up egg and a piece of toast on a plate. “You eat; I’ll go get dolled up.” I put on pink lipstick and really light eyeliner and eye shadow. Alice always bought me makeup – she said a woman like me should still look pretty. When I came back into the room, Allan was finishing his egg and toast and putting his coat on.
“Let’s go, mum,” he said. “I wanna see Auntie Alice. She always has good food.” Alice wasn’t really his aunt. I work at her speak-easy. Alice took me in when I was pregnant with Allan; she was even his godmother. We all went to Saint Mary’s in the slums on Sunday’s like a real family. Just Alice, Allan, and me. It was nice.
New York City’s got nice slums, if you don’t look too hard – you just have to learn to appreciate what you got. I grew up here – in Saint Mary’s orphanage. My parents just up and left me, but now I’ve got Alice and Allan. The best and only family I’ll ever need. I work at Alice’s. It used to be a pub, only it isn’t because of the Prohibition. So Alice serves coffee in the mornings and the stuff with alcohol in it after ten at night. I work at Alice’s when Alice takes the night off because then Alice will take care of Allan when I take care of the shop. It’s nice and the guys aren’t too bad either. I just let them have some alcohol to take the edge off. Some of them have really bad lives. I think the alcohol let’s them take away the pain of life sometimes.
Allan and I walked to Alice’s house holding hands. Allan hummed and sang as he walked right by the street. He was really happy.
“What’s making you so happy today, Allan?” I asked. He looked at me with his pretty grey eyes.
“Look, mum,” he said pointing to the sky. “God gave me a pretty day and you and Auntie Alice. Why shouldn’t I be happy?” I smiled at his beautiful child’s faith. “And I heard this really good song on the radio yesterday,” he added.
“Oh?” I asked. “Did you like that song?”
“Yeah; I mean yes,” he said. “I liked that song.”
“Okay then,” I said, as we walked up the alley way to Alice’s house. Alice’s speak-easy was a really dolled up place – she had flower boxes on the windows and all. She had the doors painted bright colors like she had nothing to hide. Her house was even more inviting. It was built into the back of the speak-easy with a wrap-around porch on two sides and on the first and second floor. It was white with green trimmings. The perfect example of a pretty country house – except that it was down in the slums. Alice was on the porch waiting for us. Allan ran into her arms.
“Well, hey there, Allan, Kristy,” she said, lifting Allan up. Allan giggled happily.
“Got food, Auntie Alice?” he asked.
“Allan, be polite,” I chided. “Besides, you just ate.”
“I’m still hungry,” he whined. I looked at Alice. She smiled.
“I’ve got cookies cooling off now…” she trailed off.
“Oh, alright,” I said, defeated. “Allan, please and thank you,” I reminded him.
“Okay, mum.”
--------------------------------------- <3
So how do her people like it, eh?
Love from Beezyk, Tony, and moi,
Asiat
----------------------------------------- <3
Allan put a warm, sticky hand in mine. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, climbing out of bed. He looked up at me and grinned, “Hallo, mum. We going to church?”
“No, not today, honey,” I said, brushing the blonde curls from his face. “Today’s Saturday. We’re going to go to Alice’s house for some tea, okay?”
“Okay!” Allan replied exuberantly, jumping up and down.
“Alright then,” I smiled. “First we’ve got to brush our teeth and get dressed…”
“And eat breakfast!” Allan added.
“And eat breakfast,” I agreed. Allan dragged me from the bed and started the morning process – brushing his teeth with my help and so on. I sat Allan down in one of the chairs of the kitchen table and he chattered to me about school.
“Mum,” he asked, “Why don’t you wear red today? You look so pretty in red. And some of the eye-stuff. Like you used to when I was little.”
I laughed, “You want me to wear makeup?”
“Yeah; I mean, yes,” he corrected himself. “I want you to look pretty!”
“Okay. First things first, though,” I said, putting a sunny-side-up egg and a piece of toast on a plate. “You eat; I’ll go get dolled up.” I put on pink lipstick and really light eyeliner and eye shadow. Alice always bought me makeup – she said a woman like me should still look pretty. When I came back into the room, Allan was finishing his egg and toast and putting his coat on.
“Let’s go, mum,” he said. “I wanna see Auntie Alice. She always has good food.” Alice wasn’t really his aunt. I work at her speak-easy. Alice took me in when I was pregnant with Allan; she was even his godmother. We all went to Saint Mary’s in the slums on Sunday’s like a real family. Just Alice, Allan, and me. It was nice.
New York City’s got nice slums, if you don’t look too hard – you just have to learn to appreciate what you got. I grew up here – in Saint Mary’s orphanage. My parents just up and left me, but now I’ve got Alice and Allan. The best and only family I’ll ever need. I work at Alice’s. It used to be a pub, only it isn’t because of the Prohibition. So Alice serves coffee in the mornings and the stuff with alcohol in it after ten at night. I work at Alice’s when Alice takes the night off because then Alice will take care of Allan when I take care of the shop. It’s nice and the guys aren’t too bad either. I just let them have some alcohol to take the edge off. Some of them have really bad lives. I think the alcohol let’s them take away the pain of life sometimes.
Allan and I walked to Alice’s house holding hands. Allan hummed and sang as he walked right by the street. He was really happy.
“What’s making you so happy today, Allan?” I asked. He looked at me with his pretty grey eyes.
“Look, mum,” he said pointing to the sky. “God gave me a pretty day and you and Auntie Alice. Why shouldn’t I be happy?” I smiled at his beautiful child’s faith. “And I heard this really good song on the radio yesterday,” he added.
“Oh?” I asked. “Did you like that song?”
“Yeah; I mean yes,” he said. “I liked that song.”
“Okay then,” I said, as we walked up the alley way to Alice’s house. Alice’s speak-easy was a really dolled up place – she had flower boxes on the windows and all. She had the doors painted bright colors like she had nothing to hide. Her house was even more inviting. It was built into the back of the speak-easy with a wrap-around porch on two sides and on the first and second floor. It was white with green trimmings. The perfect example of a pretty country house – except that it was down in the slums. Alice was on the porch waiting for us. Allan ran into her arms.
“Well, hey there, Allan, Kristy,” she said, lifting Allan up. Allan giggled happily.
“Got food, Auntie Alice?” he asked.
“Allan, be polite,” I chided. “Besides, you just ate.”
“I’m still hungry,” he whined. I looked at Alice. She smiled.
“I’ve got cookies cooling off now…” she trailed off.
“Oh, alright,” I said, defeated. “Allan, please and thank you,” I reminded him.
“Okay, mum.”
--------------------------------------- <3
So how do her people like it, eh?
Love from Beezyk, Tony, and moi,
Asiat
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Shouldn't be doing this - but am anyways :D
My Lizzie (back / summary)
James Vetour is many things: handsome, gentlemanly, and, above all, an eligible bachelor in eighteenth-century England. After three years in London, he returns to his family’s home in the country (Hetfordshire?). Upon his return, he finds his best friend, Miss Elizabeth (Eliza) Tedrow, engaged to be married and must quell his long-standing feelings for her as she enters wedlock with an abusive husband, Mr. Samuel Crowe. He decides that, against his better judgment and the order of Mr. Crowe, which he will remain in correspondence with Miss Eliza through a pseudonym – Miss Henrietta Vetour.
When at the engagement party for Miss Eliza, he meets the charming but not beautiful Annabelle (Belle) Cliffe. Drawn to his growing sense of familiarity and friendship to Annabelle, he begins feeling guilty about his quickly-changing feelings, from Miss Eliza to Miss Belle. And, after becoming attached to Miss Belle, he finds that she is to marry a stable hand, John, in Scotland on her way to America. Devastated, James finds that not only is his heart broken, but Miss Belle’s is about to be – for John is a conspirator in a scheme to kidnap Miss Belle for her fortune. Miss Belle is devastated and snaps at James in her pain and anger. James goes into seclusion from women; he is afraid that the next time he puts his heart on the line it will end as it always has for him. At Miss Eliza’s wedding, he meets yet another fascinating woman, Miss Amari Letta, the daughter of an Indian merchant and a very handsome and rich woman. He becomes good friends with Miss Letta and never feels feelings that go above that of a friend. While traveling with other rich young people, including Miss Letta, James stops at the estate of his good friend from school, William Browning. James meets William’s little sister, Miss Elizabeth (Lizzie) Browning. Bonding with her deeply for her passion and energy, he begins to love her more deeply than anyone he has ever known. But, to James’s disappointment, it is not to last, for he must return to care for the estate while his father lies on his deathbed. James finds that his only companionship through life is that of Miss Lizzie Browning – through long and entertaining letters. Upon the death of his father, James invites William and Miss Lizzie to stay at his estate for his father’s funeral. Unable to ignore his growing love for Lizzie, he admits he loves her – and she admits the same. Miss Penelope Tedrow, Eliza’s younger sister, sees this and does everything in her power to quench this match – for herself. Miss Penelope has always loved James fiercely and this reckless girl will not tear her from him. After almost flinging herself to her death, Penelope begins a cat-fight with Miss Lizzie. This brings the Tedrows and Crowes to a feud with James. And when Eliza is beaten so far as to kill her child, she turns to James for help. With Lizzie’s encouragement, James goes to duel with Mr. Crowe while she cares for Eliza. James kills Crowe with many injuries and is raised back to health by Lizzie. Penelope becomes a nun and Eliza a common widow. Eliza falls in love and marries William. Happily ever after.
All my love,
Asiat
James Vetour is many things: handsome, gentlemanly, and, above all, an eligible bachelor in eighteenth-century England. After three years in London, he returns to his family’s home in the country (Hetfordshire?). Upon his return, he finds his best friend, Miss Elizabeth (Eliza) Tedrow, engaged to be married and must quell his long-standing feelings for her as she enters wedlock with an abusive husband, Mr. Samuel Crowe. He decides that, against his better judgment and the order of Mr. Crowe, which he will remain in correspondence with Miss Eliza through a pseudonym – Miss Henrietta Vetour.
When at the engagement party for Miss Eliza, he meets the charming but not beautiful Annabelle (Belle) Cliffe. Drawn to his growing sense of familiarity and friendship to Annabelle, he begins feeling guilty about his quickly-changing feelings, from Miss Eliza to Miss Belle. And, after becoming attached to Miss Belle, he finds that she is to marry a stable hand, John, in Scotland on her way to America. Devastated, James finds that not only is his heart broken, but Miss Belle’s is about to be – for John is a conspirator in a scheme to kidnap Miss Belle for her fortune. Miss Belle is devastated and snaps at James in her pain and anger. James goes into seclusion from women; he is afraid that the next time he puts his heart on the line it will end as it always has for him. At Miss Eliza’s wedding, he meets yet another fascinating woman, Miss Amari Letta, the daughter of an Indian merchant and a very handsome and rich woman. He becomes good friends with Miss Letta and never feels feelings that go above that of a friend. While traveling with other rich young people, including Miss Letta, James stops at the estate of his good friend from school, William Browning. James meets William’s little sister, Miss Elizabeth (Lizzie) Browning. Bonding with her deeply for her passion and energy, he begins to love her more deeply than anyone he has ever known. But, to James’s disappointment, it is not to last, for he must return to care for the estate while his father lies on his deathbed. James finds that his only companionship through life is that of Miss Lizzie Browning – through long and entertaining letters. Upon the death of his father, James invites William and Miss Lizzie to stay at his estate for his father’s funeral. Unable to ignore his growing love for Lizzie, he admits he loves her – and she admits the same. Miss Penelope Tedrow, Eliza’s younger sister, sees this and does everything in her power to quench this match – for herself. Miss Penelope has always loved James fiercely and this reckless girl will not tear her from him. After almost flinging herself to her death, Penelope begins a cat-fight with Miss Lizzie. This brings the Tedrows and Crowes to a feud with James. And when Eliza is beaten so far as to kill her child, she turns to James for help. With Lizzie’s encouragement, James goes to duel with Mr. Crowe while she cares for Eliza. James kills Crowe with many injuries and is raised back to health by Lizzie. Penelope becomes a nun and Eliza a common widow. Eliza falls in love and marries William. Happily ever after.
All my love,
Asiat
Saturday, June 20, 2009
more my lizzie.
Okay, and YES, I happen to know how halarious the comment about the shrubbery is.
Chapter 1
My brain was in an anxious frenzy. After three years of study in London, I was returning home. My sweet, lovely country home. And everything was as it should be – I was returning home, Lizzie was getting married. As children, she had made us plan out the rest of our lives – and we had planned it thus. Lizzie would laugh at the irony of it all. I knew that she had wished to have a double wedding with me, but now that was not possible. Something deep inside the wells of my heart thrilled when I saw Willford Estate come into view. The pond with the gravel walk around it brought happy memories to mind. I leaped from the carriage and ran through the front doors – just to assure myself that nothing had changed. The glass chandelier still glittered elegantly and Lizzie was in the library browsing the books with my mother as my father read the newspaper.It had not changed here at all.
“Ahem,” the servant said, brushing past me. “Excuse me, Mr. Vetour, Mrs. Vetour, Ms. Tedrow – Mr. William Vetour has arrived,” the servant retreated to the kitchen as I burst through the doors.
“Ah, my dear, Will!” my mother exclaimed, kissing my cheek.
“Will, my boy,” Father said shaking my hand. There was an awkward silence. Father returned to his newspaper and Mother left in a flutter calling for servants.
“Well, Ms. Lizzie Tedrow,” I said, teasing. “Have you not noticed there is a new arrival at Willford?”
“Is there?” she asked, turning the page of her book. “I hadn’t noticed.” She looked at me as if she had never seen me. “Oh, William! There you are. Have you been in your father’s closet these past three years? Hmmm.” We both laughed.“Welcome home, Will,” she smiled delicately.
“Thank you, Lizzie,” I replied with a smile. “It’s good to be back.”
“Lizzie, dear,” Mother called, popping her head through the door, “Are you staying for supper?”
“No ma’am,” Lizzie replied. “In fact, I should be leaving now. Goodbye, Mr. Vetour, Mrs. Vetour, Will.”Lizzie left quickly. Mother returned to the room with a quick glance.
“William – why are you still here?” Mother cried. “It is hardly gentlemanly to not escort a lady home. Go, now, before the Tedrows think us horribly impolite!” I began walking backwards towards the door. “Oh,” she called, “And stay for supper if they ask!”
“Yes, Mother,” I replied.Lizzie was at the edge of the front gate.“Miss Tedrow!” I called. I caught up to her. “Lizzie.” I bowed.
“Will,” she replied, surprised. She curtsied.
“Mother refuses to let a lady walk home alone without lecturing me about it, so I may as well accompany said lady home. And she also added to stay for dinner if asked.” She laughed.
“It’s good to have you back, William,” Lizzie said, touching my shoulder. “You were sorely missed these last three years; especially by your mother.”
“Yes, indeed, Lizzie,” I replied. “So, when is the date set?”
“I have no idea,” Lizzie replied. “This marriage it not anything like I wanted it to be, Will. I thought it would be romantic and wonderful, but it is just an arrangement between my father and Mr. Swan. I had no deal in it. He barely even knows me. I’m scared, William.” She was almost at tears. “It was a silly childish notion – being in love was,” she sniffled.
“Oh, Lizzie,” I smiled, walking arm in arm now. “You’ll be alright. If he really disturbs you, I’m sure you could throw a fit and refuse to marry him.” I gave her hand a gentle squeeze. We were approaching Enchorage Estate now. Lizzie smiled and slipped her arm out of mine. The sun was lowering on the horizon. Lizzie notified her parents that she had arrived safely home and we entered the parlor.
“Mr. Vetour!” Mrs. Tedrow exclaimed in her usual soothed elegant tones. She was the kind of mother who prided herself on personal elegance and social perfection, though her heart and mind were cold of all energy and warmth. “You have come such a long way. You must stay for dinner,” she said and began instructing the servants accordingly.
“Ma’am, if it is no trouble to you, I will remain,” I replied.“Of course you must stay, Penelope will be delighted to see you,” she smiled benevolently. I suppose she thought my marrying her second daughter, Penelope, would be a good match. Penelope, though a kind girl, is exactly that; she is only a girl. Mrs. Tedrow would hope that I would marry her for a promise in the property of Enchorage. I would not marry Penelope if I was paid a good price, nor if she were older, I might add. Penelope is a tad desperate. She believes, like her sister once did, that love and marriage are the same thing and that the sooner she is married, the sooner her life will be complete. She is altogether too loud, too annoying, and too young for me to stand. She is her mother’s favorite and has been spoilt by such favoritism. I hope that my children do not suffer from a mother like that.
“Oh, Mr. Vetour,” Penelope exclaimed. “What a wonderful thing it is to see you! I hear that London is a very socially wonderful place to be. Please tell us of it.” She said this all very fast, with her hands flailing about, that her glass of wine was nearly spilt.
“Calm yourself, Ms. Tedrow,” I scolded gently. “London’s fine qualities are over exaggerated a little much, but it is a grand and fine place to have taken my studies at. There is an agreeable higher society and the people there are fine in manners and fashion. It was a wonderful place to live and work and study at, but I am far happier to be home.”
“I should never be happy to remain here when there is London to see,” Penelope said indignantly. “You should take us, me and Lizzie, to London as a wedding gift,” she suggested.
“Oh, no,” Mrs. Tedrow said, scolding the child. “You are far too young to be traveling about and I will take you to London myself when the time comes to present you to higher society.” At this, the child could only pout.
I sipped my wine to keep from laughing. Lizzie looked at me, her eyes laughing. I could not see her face because it was hidden behind a handkerchief.
“I really must return to Willford,” I said, excusing myself from the parlor. “My father and I have business to catch up on.”
“And I am sure your mother wishes to clout you for leaving for so long a time,” Penelope said eagerly.
“I’m sure,” Lizzie interspersed teasing.
“Lizzie, please show Mr. Vetour to the door,” Mrs. Tedrow said quietly.
“Yes, Mother,” Lizzie replied.
Chapter 2
I seldom saw Lizzie or the Tedrows until their dinner celebrating the joining of Mr. Swan and Lizzie. Mrs. Tedrow was ecstatic over this news – even though it had been announced two months ago. Lizzie sent a note the day before:
Dear Will,I have a request and hope you do not have interference that would otherwise engage you. I would like you to come an hour or two before the engagement dinner, for my sake. What say you to a last enterprise of our good old times?
Lizzie
I checked with my parents so as to make sure I was not otherwise engaged and sent Lizzie a note telling her I would come as she wished. Lizzie was very nervous when I came and insisted that we go for a walk.
“Ah,” she sighed. “Now my mother cannot pester us with Penelope.”
“Yes, indeed,” I laughed. “I think I must announce that I shall marry any woman between the ages of seventeen and twenty, who has an admirable, silent character, with a witty personality that is revealed amongst close friends.” Lizzie laughed, for Penelope was only sixteen and none of those things.
“Oh, Will, that is a very descriptive want,” she chuckled. “I wish you luck, but you are looking for the perfect woman – and such women do not exist.”
“Well, thank you for your support, Lizzie,” I teased. “I would not marry a woman without flaws, however. You know I would not.”
“Indeed,” Lizzie said, looking towards the horizon. “Oh, Lord have mercy.”
“What is it, Lizzie?” I asked, squinting.
“Mr. Samuel Swan,” she breathed. “Would it be terribly rude of me to ask you to hide behind a piece of shrubbery?”
“It would,” I replied. “But, for the sake of your female nerves, I will obey.” I ducked behind a thick bush and held my breathe as Lizzie’s now-dreaded betrothed approached.
“A rather morose day, isn’t it, Elizabeth,” Mr. Swan commented. “Are you walking alone?” The man was rude enough not even to remove himself from his horse.
“It is a wonderful day, in my opinion, Samuel,” Lizzie replied. “I am alone.”
“You have a poor opinion then, Elizabeth,” Mr. Swan said sourly. “One should assume my betrothed would like fine sunny days, not depressing cloudy ones. You would be the perfect wife, would you not?”
“I will never be the perfect wife, Samuel,” Lizzie smiled, trying to remain polite.
“All wives must strive to be perfect,” Mr. Swan pronounced.
“Just because they strive does not mean they succeed,” Lizzie said playfully.
“I hope you do not cheek me so when we are married,” Mr. Swan nodded. “Do you have any friends coming to our engagement dinner?”
“Why, yes,” Lizzie said. “My good friend, Mr. William Vetour.”
“That scoundrel?” Mr. Swan gasped.
“Yes,” Lizzie blushed. “But he is a perfect gentleman.”
“I insist that he is not,” Mr. Swan said heatedly. “I say that, after our marriage, you sever contact with this Mr. Vetour. And, as my wife, you shall obey.”
“I suppose so,” Lizzie said quietly.
“You suppose so?” Mr. Swan repeated angrily. “Elizabeth, you must promise to never correspond with this man.”
“I – I promise…,” Lizzie said faintly.
“Good girl,” Swan said. I felt my skin boil. “You will walk for another hour or so and then return to get ready for the dinner, I suppose. You should look stunning.”
“Yes, Samuel.”
I hear the thundering of horses hooves and waited for Lizzie to approach me. When she did, she was weeping.
“Oh, Lizzie,” I said sympathetically. “You could still throw a fit, couldn’t you?”
“I don’t know if I would have the strength to, Will,” she sobbed. “But, never talk to you again? It’s a horrible notion.”
I thought swiftly, “But you will correspond and visit my cousin Ms. Willianna Vetour, to whom you became very close when you knew me, correct?”
“What are you saying, William?” she asked, her cheeks tear-stained.
“I am saying, Elizabeth, that if you go through with this marriage I will not abandon you,” I smiled softly. “I am saying that you will break your promise to Mr. Swan and write me letters and visit on the rare occasion. But it must be done in secret. I will tell my parents, my mother, at least, will approve.”
“Ever the gentleman,” Lizzie said, wiping away her tears. “Any woman would be lucky to marry you, Will.”
And, yes, once again, i KNOW that the shrubbery thing is funny. LOL.
Ciao, Bellas and ... guys...
Asiat
Chapter 1
My brain was in an anxious frenzy. After three years of study in London, I was returning home. My sweet, lovely country home. And everything was as it should be – I was returning home, Lizzie was getting married. As children, she had made us plan out the rest of our lives – and we had planned it thus. Lizzie would laugh at the irony of it all. I knew that she had wished to have a double wedding with me, but now that was not possible. Something deep inside the wells of my heart thrilled when I saw Willford Estate come into view. The pond with the gravel walk around it brought happy memories to mind. I leaped from the carriage and ran through the front doors – just to assure myself that nothing had changed. The glass chandelier still glittered elegantly and Lizzie was in the library browsing the books with my mother as my father read the newspaper.It had not changed here at all.
“Ahem,” the servant said, brushing past me. “Excuse me, Mr. Vetour, Mrs. Vetour, Ms. Tedrow – Mr. William Vetour has arrived,” the servant retreated to the kitchen as I burst through the doors.
“Ah, my dear, Will!” my mother exclaimed, kissing my cheek.
“Will, my boy,” Father said shaking my hand. There was an awkward silence. Father returned to his newspaper and Mother left in a flutter calling for servants.
“Well, Ms. Lizzie Tedrow,” I said, teasing. “Have you not noticed there is a new arrival at Willford?”
“Is there?” she asked, turning the page of her book. “I hadn’t noticed.” She looked at me as if she had never seen me. “Oh, William! There you are. Have you been in your father’s closet these past three years? Hmmm.” We both laughed.“Welcome home, Will,” she smiled delicately.
“Thank you, Lizzie,” I replied with a smile. “It’s good to be back.”
“Lizzie, dear,” Mother called, popping her head through the door, “Are you staying for supper?”
“No ma’am,” Lizzie replied. “In fact, I should be leaving now. Goodbye, Mr. Vetour, Mrs. Vetour, Will.”Lizzie left quickly. Mother returned to the room with a quick glance.
“William – why are you still here?” Mother cried. “It is hardly gentlemanly to not escort a lady home. Go, now, before the Tedrows think us horribly impolite!” I began walking backwards towards the door. “Oh,” she called, “And stay for supper if they ask!”
“Yes, Mother,” I replied.Lizzie was at the edge of the front gate.“Miss Tedrow!” I called. I caught up to her. “Lizzie.” I bowed.
“Will,” she replied, surprised. She curtsied.
“Mother refuses to let a lady walk home alone without lecturing me about it, so I may as well accompany said lady home. And she also added to stay for dinner if asked.” She laughed.
“It’s good to have you back, William,” Lizzie said, touching my shoulder. “You were sorely missed these last three years; especially by your mother.”
“Yes, indeed, Lizzie,” I replied. “So, when is the date set?”
“I have no idea,” Lizzie replied. “This marriage it not anything like I wanted it to be, Will. I thought it would be romantic and wonderful, but it is just an arrangement between my father and Mr. Swan. I had no deal in it. He barely even knows me. I’m scared, William.” She was almost at tears. “It was a silly childish notion – being in love was,” she sniffled.
“Oh, Lizzie,” I smiled, walking arm in arm now. “You’ll be alright. If he really disturbs you, I’m sure you could throw a fit and refuse to marry him.” I gave her hand a gentle squeeze. We were approaching Enchorage Estate now. Lizzie smiled and slipped her arm out of mine. The sun was lowering on the horizon. Lizzie notified her parents that she had arrived safely home and we entered the parlor.
“Mr. Vetour!” Mrs. Tedrow exclaimed in her usual soothed elegant tones. She was the kind of mother who prided herself on personal elegance and social perfection, though her heart and mind were cold of all energy and warmth. “You have come such a long way. You must stay for dinner,” she said and began instructing the servants accordingly.
“Ma’am, if it is no trouble to you, I will remain,” I replied.“Of course you must stay, Penelope will be delighted to see you,” she smiled benevolently. I suppose she thought my marrying her second daughter, Penelope, would be a good match. Penelope, though a kind girl, is exactly that; she is only a girl. Mrs. Tedrow would hope that I would marry her for a promise in the property of Enchorage. I would not marry Penelope if I was paid a good price, nor if she were older, I might add. Penelope is a tad desperate. She believes, like her sister once did, that love and marriage are the same thing and that the sooner she is married, the sooner her life will be complete. She is altogether too loud, too annoying, and too young for me to stand. She is her mother’s favorite and has been spoilt by such favoritism. I hope that my children do not suffer from a mother like that.
“Oh, Mr. Vetour,” Penelope exclaimed. “What a wonderful thing it is to see you! I hear that London is a very socially wonderful place to be. Please tell us of it.” She said this all very fast, with her hands flailing about, that her glass of wine was nearly spilt.
“Calm yourself, Ms. Tedrow,” I scolded gently. “London’s fine qualities are over exaggerated a little much, but it is a grand and fine place to have taken my studies at. There is an agreeable higher society and the people there are fine in manners and fashion. It was a wonderful place to live and work and study at, but I am far happier to be home.”
“I should never be happy to remain here when there is London to see,” Penelope said indignantly. “You should take us, me and Lizzie, to London as a wedding gift,” she suggested.
“Oh, no,” Mrs. Tedrow said, scolding the child. “You are far too young to be traveling about and I will take you to London myself when the time comes to present you to higher society.” At this, the child could only pout.
I sipped my wine to keep from laughing. Lizzie looked at me, her eyes laughing. I could not see her face because it was hidden behind a handkerchief.
“I really must return to Willford,” I said, excusing myself from the parlor. “My father and I have business to catch up on.”
“And I am sure your mother wishes to clout you for leaving for so long a time,” Penelope said eagerly.
“I’m sure,” Lizzie interspersed teasing.
“Lizzie, please show Mr. Vetour to the door,” Mrs. Tedrow said quietly.
“Yes, Mother,” Lizzie replied.
Chapter 2
I seldom saw Lizzie or the Tedrows until their dinner celebrating the joining of Mr. Swan and Lizzie. Mrs. Tedrow was ecstatic over this news – even though it had been announced two months ago. Lizzie sent a note the day before:
Dear Will,I have a request and hope you do not have interference that would otherwise engage you. I would like you to come an hour or two before the engagement dinner, for my sake. What say you to a last enterprise of our good old times?
Lizzie
I checked with my parents so as to make sure I was not otherwise engaged and sent Lizzie a note telling her I would come as she wished. Lizzie was very nervous when I came and insisted that we go for a walk.
“Ah,” she sighed. “Now my mother cannot pester us with Penelope.”
“Yes, indeed,” I laughed. “I think I must announce that I shall marry any woman between the ages of seventeen and twenty, who has an admirable, silent character, with a witty personality that is revealed amongst close friends.” Lizzie laughed, for Penelope was only sixteen and none of those things.
“Oh, Will, that is a very descriptive want,” she chuckled. “I wish you luck, but you are looking for the perfect woman – and such women do not exist.”
“Well, thank you for your support, Lizzie,” I teased. “I would not marry a woman without flaws, however. You know I would not.”
“Indeed,” Lizzie said, looking towards the horizon. “Oh, Lord have mercy.”
“What is it, Lizzie?” I asked, squinting.
“Mr. Samuel Swan,” she breathed. “Would it be terribly rude of me to ask you to hide behind a piece of shrubbery?”
“It would,” I replied. “But, for the sake of your female nerves, I will obey.” I ducked behind a thick bush and held my breathe as Lizzie’s now-dreaded betrothed approached.
“A rather morose day, isn’t it, Elizabeth,” Mr. Swan commented. “Are you walking alone?” The man was rude enough not even to remove himself from his horse.
“It is a wonderful day, in my opinion, Samuel,” Lizzie replied. “I am alone.”
“You have a poor opinion then, Elizabeth,” Mr. Swan said sourly. “One should assume my betrothed would like fine sunny days, not depressing cloudy ones. You would be the perfect wife, would you not?”
“I will never be the perfect wife, Samuel,” Lizzie smiled, trying to remain polite.
“All wives must strive to be perfect,” Mr. Swan pronounced.
“Just because they strive does not mean they succeed,” Lizzie said playfully.
“I hope you do not cheek me so when we are married,” Mr. Swan nodded. “Do you have any friends coming to our engagement dinner?”
“Why, yes,” Lizzie said. “My good friend, Mr. William Vetour.”
“That scoundrel?” Mr. Swan gasped.
“Yes,” Lizzie blushed. “But he is a perfect gentleman.”
“I insist that he is not,” Mr. Swan said heatedly. “I say that, after our marriage, you sever contact with this Mr. Vetour. And, as my wife, you shall obey.”
“I suppose so,” Lizzie said quietly.
“You suppose so?” Mr. Swan repeated angrily. “Elizabeth, you must promise to never correspond with this man.”
“I – I promise…,” Lizzie said faintly.
“Good girl,” Swan said. I felt my skin boil. “You will walk for another hour or so and then return to get ready for the dinner, I suppose. You should look stunning.”
“Yes, Samuel.”
I hear the thundering of horses hooves and waited for Lizzie to approach me. When she did, she was weeping.
“Oh, Lizzie,” I said sympathetically. “You could still throw a fit, couldn’t you?”
“I don’t know if I would have the strength to, Will,” she sobbed. “But, never talk to you again? It’s a horrible notion.”
I thought swiftly, “But you will correspond and visit my cousin Ms. Willianna Vetour, to whom you became very close when you knew me, correct?”
“What are you saying, William?” she asked, her cheeks tear-stained.
“I am saying, Elizabeth, that if you go through with this marriage I will not abandon you,” I smiled softly. “I am saying that you will break your promise to Mr. Swan and write me letters and visit on the rare occasion. But it must be done in secret. I will tell my parents, my mother, at least, will approve.”
“Ever the gentleman,” Lizzie said, wiping away her tears. “Any woman would be lucky to marry you, Will.”
And, yes, once again, i KNOW that the shrubbery thing is funny. LOL.
Ciao, Bellas and ... guys...
Asiat
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