Page List


Font:  

“Yes, absolutely,” Mama said. “We’ll move Delphia in with Addie so Lena can take her room.”

“Do you mind, ladies?” James asked, sounding apologetic.

“Not at all,” Delphia said. “Anything for you, James.”

“I didn’t think they would come all the way out here,” James said, speaking as if he were thinking out loud. “She says her father is anxious to make your acquaintance, Alexander. He’s a businessman, always looking for opportunities. Mr. Masters is very American that way. I hope he won’t be too much.” James flushed, obviously embarrassed. “I find him abrasive and aggressive.”

“If you love Lena, then we shall love her. As far as her father goes, he’s nothing Alexander can’t handle.” Mama tilted her head as her gaze fixed on our guest. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

James didn’t answer for a second or two. Finally, he hung his head. “No, not that. I didn’t expect they’d come here, that’s all. I wanted a less complicated summer than that.” He looked over at me. “Addie and I had a lot of plans. This was supposed to be a fun vacation for me before I had to go back and face the rest of my life. And I wanted to help her with her manuscript. Lena will take up a lot of my attention.”

Mama and Papa exchanged a glance. Did they suspect his reluctance?

“James, darling, won’t it be even more fun to have your sweetheart here?” Mama asked.

He blinked, as if she had spoken to him in a foreign tongue. “Yes, yes. Quite so.”

“My manuscript isn’t important,” I said. “Please don’t think two seconds about that.”

“It is important. You must always remember that your work matters, Addie. I want to give it the attention it deserves.”

I wanted to cry right then and there. “That’s kind of you, but I know the pecking order. Fiancées are more important than old friends who think they have writing talent.”

“Don’t do that,” James said. “Don’t ever diminish yourself like that. You’re very talented. I’m proud to help you. In fact, it’s my honor.”

“You haven’t even read it yet,” I said.

Everyone else fell away. Our eyes locked. The room seemed to shrink to include just the two of us. In his return gaze, I saw everything that I would miss. All the ways in which we could have enhanced the other’s life. It was not to be. I must accept it. But I wanted him. I wanted his voice to be the one I heard first thing in the morning and the last at night.

“I’ve read enough of your work to know, Adelaide Barnes,” James said gently. “I want to have the chance to help shape whatever it is you’ve written. I want to have a part of it. If you want me to.”

“You can still do that,” I said, trying hard not to cry.

When I looked away from James, I became aware of the three others in the room. Three people who were now staring at me as if I were sitting there in my underclothes. Had I revealed myself to all of them? Did my secret adoration of James West show on my face? In everything I did? Because it was that way for me. He was inside me, making my heart beat.

* * *

I criedmyself to sleep that night, weeping until there was nothing but exhaustion to take me into dreamland. When I woke, the problems were still there, and my grief was like an elephant on my chest. What childish daydreams I’d had. All these years, I’d let myself believe that by some miracle James would see me as something other than his best friend’s sister. But as it turns out, even if he had, it would not matter. He could not marry me. For the first time in my life, it appeared that even my father’s vast wealth was not enough. I’d not thought I’d ever want for anything because of lack of money. Yet here it was. If we’d been able to save James and his family, then he could have chosen me for practical reasons and perhaps fallen for me eventually.

I bristled at the idea, though. If I were to have had James as my own, I would have wanted him because he loved me, not because he needed our family money.What about this Lena?I asked myself as our maid, Bitty, coaxed my slippery hair into fat curls. I wore it somewhere between long and short, as was the style now, crimping it with a hot iron to give the appearance of waves. Bitty was a master at making both Delphia’s and my finely textured hair appear more plentiful.

I stared back at my reflection, horrified to see the puffiness around my eyes and pallor of my skin.

“Miss Addie, would you like me to bring up a cucumber for your eyes?” Bitty asked, standing back to look at her work.

Cucumbers were supposed to take the puffiness out, but other than feeling like cold slugs on my skin, they hardly seemed effective. “No, thank you, Bitty. Nothing a hot cup of tea won’t cure.” I forced normalcy into my voice, not wanting Bitty to know of my despair. She had her own troubles and complexities and was so tenderhearted she would take it upon herself to console me. Not her job, I reminded myself as I forced a smile. Mama was not pretentious but she’d often told us to keep our sorrows among the family so as not to burden the staff. “Considering what we have compared to so many, we must keep a brave face,” she’d said to me once.

Bitty picked up my Max Factor compact. “Nothing a little Max can’t make right, Miss Addie?”

“Let’s hope so,” I said.

Bitty was a strapping girl who’d recently moved to Emerson Pass from Minnesota. She had a wide, pretty face and fair skin dotted with freckles. She was engaged to one of our gardeners, Harry, and would marry him once they’d saved enough to build or buy a cottage of their own. Bitty didn’t seem to mind waiting, but I had to wonder. How were they able to resist each other? I watched them with envy at our schoolhouse dances. They seemed to move as one in those moments and nothing else mattered but being together. What would it feel like to be loved like that? I’d probably never know. Instead, I’d have to watch James marry this Lena Masters and be forever taken from me.

I must have sighed because Bitty, who had been about to brush makeup onto my cheeks, stopped what she was doing and narrowed her eyes, taking me in. “What is it, Miss Addie? What’s making you sad?”

“Nothing, really. Just a poor night’s sleep.”

Her mouth went into a straight line, but she didn’t say anything further and began to carefully apply the makeup, patting under my eyes gently.


Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical