by Read, Calia
She has the right. No one in the room besides me thinks anything of her proximity to him. But it breaks me into a thousand pieces.
I can’t do this. I can’t be in the same room as them.
“Nathalie, dear, don’t stand in the doorway like a statue. Come join us,” Mrs. Pleasonton calls out.
Juliet and Rainey turn toward me. However, Asa remains facing forward. And as I walk to them, I’m grateful; I’ve had his eyes on me enough for one day.
When I reach them, I smile at everyone, including Juliet, as though I do not loathe her on principle. When Asa turns to me, I give him a courteous smile. I can pretend the interaction never occurred upstairs.
“When Alex came downstairs, all she could speak of was her Aunt Nathalie,” Mrs. Pleasonton remarks.
“It’s true,” Rainey chimes in.
“That little girl is hard to please. You must have a way with children,” Mrs. Pleasonton continues.
I accept Mrs. Pleasonton’s compliments with a smile, but I know they’re not accidental. Most of the things she says are well thought out.
“You’ll make an excellent Momma someday,” she says.
Her words are meant to be kind, but they feel as though someone punched me. I try to keep a friendly disposition, but inside, I can hear my heart cracking.
“Oh, I won’t be havin’ any children of my own. Being an aunt is plenty,” I reply with a smile.
Both Mrs. Pleasonton and Rainey are taken aback, but they don’t question me any further about the subject in front of Juliet and Asa.
Uncomfortably, we all stand there, until Mrs. Pleasonton clears her throat.
“Juliet was just tellin’ us about her background,” she explains.
“Oh… how lovely,” I say tightly.
“And did I hear that right. You can speak five languages?” Mrs. Pleasonton questions.
Juliet nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Rainey can hardly speak English.”
“I’m standin’ right here, Momma.”
Mrs. Pleasonton turns and pats her arm. “I know, dear. I just think it’s impressive how Juliet’s so astucieux.”
A delicate frown puckers Juliet’s brow. “Pardon me?”
“My apologies. I thought French would be one of the five languages you spoke.” Mrs. Pleasonton finishes her harsh dismissal with a smile. It’s akin to being slapped and immediately placing a cold towel on the area. Juliet blinks seemingly dazed by what just happened.
Mrs. Pleasonton turns away from Juliet and focuses on me. “Nathalie, my beautiful girl, I believe lunch is about to be served. Walk with me to the dining room, yes?”
I nod, barely suppressing my smile. I’ve been gone from Belgrave for quite some time, but the people I love will always support me when I least expect it.
CHAPTER NINE
1901
Nathalie
“Nathalie, you look beautiful. Just beautiful.”
My aunt Christine knelt down in front of me, so our faces were level, and clutched my hands. Her eyes filled with tears. They’d been filled with tears since she arrived from New York.
Mamie and Papi had been stoic since they stepped foot in Belgrave. Although I saw Mamie’s eyes become glassy once or twice.
As cruel as it sounded, I didn’t want to see them or to hear their words. I wanted to be with my brothers, Étienne and Livingston.
Because they were the only family I had left.
Four days ago, in the middle of the night, I woke up to Étienne sitting on the edge of my bed. There was only light from the hall seeping in, but I could see his face and could tell he had been crying.
Étienne had settled back into Charleston only a year before. He found a home for himself, not far from Mamie and Papi. Étienne was well on his way to entirely handling the shipping company without guidance from Daddy or even advice from Papi.
Étienne wouldn’t be here so late at night. I knew something terrible had occurred, and I was right.
Mommy and Daddy, along with Julian, were killed when the train they were on derailed.
At first, I hadn’t quite comprehended what Étienne was telling me. My ears began to ring, and the room tilted.
I’m certain my eyes welled up, because Étienne reached out and hugged me, and told me we would get through this. And my chest hurt. It hurt so badly, as though someone was pressing their hands on my heart with as much force as possible.
Ever since then the pain hadn’t let up. Not once. I took small breaths. I listened to the words Étienne was speaking as best I could.
Everything after our hug felt as if I was spinning around and around, arms held out, eyes opened, and feet turning, but I couldn’t stop. Because to stop meant I would have to accept the agonizing truth that I would never see Julian walk down the halls, or sit across from him at dinner, or ever hear my parents’ voices and laughter again.
I began to cry, and I didn’t stop. Étienne sat there with me until I fell asleep, whispering repeatedly that we would be okay.
But nothing felt okay. The more time that went by, the more painful life felt.
My aunt stood and moved behind me, adjusting the white satin sash around my stomach. She tied the sash too tight and now the material of the dress was digging into my flesh.
This navy-blue dress was not intended to be worn for a funeral. Momma purchased it for me months ago. She said the coloring would be striking against my pale skin. I agreed with her, and what I found beautiful then, I hated now. My stomach felt itchy, as did my neck where the material tickled my skin, the puff sleeves seemed far too wide. My black stockings were too hot. And my shoes felt too tight.
They weren’t tight last week.
I looked toward the window and noticed the circular drive in front of Belgrave filled with automobiles and carriages. When did family and friends begin to arrive?
Did that mean Rainey was here?
“There’s your hat!” My aunt grabbed the navy straw boater hat adorned with a white bow from the floor. With my matching hat in her hands, she smiled brightly at me. “I think we have everything. Ready?”
My aunt held out her hand for me to take. I placed my hand into hers because I had no other choice.
As we walked down the hallway, I kept my eyes fixed on my feet. The hallway walls still had portraits of my family. One of Daddy stoically sitting in a chair, and the other of my entire family all together. I glanced at the family portrait yesterday by accident, and when I saw Momma’s face, it felt as though I was being kicked repeatedly in the stomach. It brought a fresh wave of pain I didn’t know was possible. I ran back to my room and didn’t come out for the rest of the day.
All I wanted to do was hide in the deepest, darkest corner of Belgrave, where no pain could find me. I’d had enough to last me a lifetime.
When we reached the first floor, I heard voices coming from the library. The sitting room doors were firmly shut. My grip on my aunt’s hand tightened. She looked down at me and smiled reassuringly. It’s okay. It’s just Mamie and Papi Lacroix.”
I nodded. Anxiously, my gaze darted around the foyer before it met the gaze of the new butler, Ben, Daddy hired weeks ago. Momma was uncertain because he came with no qualifications, but Daddy was confident. Ben initially came to him for a job at the shipping company. The only reason Daddy said no was Ben had a bad leg and working on the docks could be strenuous. But Ben was young and had a family. I remembered him telling Momma, “What could I do, Charlotte? I couldn’t let him walk away without givin’ him a chance to provide for his family.”
That was my daddy. He was smart and shrewd in the ways of business, but kind and caring at just the right moments.
As though Ben could read my thoughts, he dipped his head in acknowledgment and looked away.
Voices from the library grew louder until my brothers walked through the doorway with my grandparents beside them. Upon seeing me, my grandparents straightened and Mamie held her arms wide open. “Nathalie, viens-ici, ma chérie. Fai
s un câlin à Mamie.”
Obeying Mamie’s words, I walked into her arms. I saw her regularly, and every time I seemed to be approaching the same height as her. Daddy had looked affectionately at the two of us and said, “The next time I blink she’ll be as tall as you, mère.”
He would never get the chance to find out if his words were right. There was so much he would never get the chance to see. I squeezed my eyes tightly together and tried my best to keep my tears at bay.
When Mamie and I separated, her brown eyes were watery. “Everything will be okay, dear heart.”
Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight bun, threads of silver were streaked throughout. I resembled my momma, but she had always said I got my lips and thick brows from Mamie. Although it was hard to see that now. Wrinkles hugged the corners of her eyes and mouth, and the skin on her hands was so translucent you could see the blue veins beneath her skin. But the smooth touch of her small hand remained comforting.
“Can anyone point me to the nearest ladies’ room?” A loud voice hollered.
From the doorway stood a stooped over Esme. She was my mamie’s older sister.
When Mamie spotted her, she almost looked relieved. “Oh, there you are, Esme!”
Esme slowly walked over, and when she reached us, Mamie placed a protective arm around her. “Stay with me because there will be several people here today. Remember how I told you about the funeral?”
“What did you say?” Esme shouted so loudly that Ben nearly jumped from his station beside the door.
Seventy-four-year-old Esme was hard of hearing and had been for quite some time. All of us had become accustomed to yelling for her to understand us…several times. Today it placed an extra strain on an already devastating day.
“I told you. We’re here for a funeral,” Mamie pronounced loudly, and just as slowly.
Esme frowned and leaned in, cupping a hand over her ear. “Huh?”
“A funeral. For my son, Adrien.”
Esme reared her head back and frowned. “Annie? Who’s Annie?”
“No, Adrien!” Mamie shouted back.
“Anthony? Who is Anthony?” Esme asked and began to search for Anthony. “Can Anthony guide me to the ladies’ room? I need to relieve myself.”
“It might be easier if we call Étienne, Anthony, and have him lead the way,” Livingston chimed in.
Mamie narrowed her eyes at Livingston in warning before she turned her attention back to Esme. With the help of Aunt Christine, she led Esme to the nearest ladies’ room, all the while, the two of them had a conversation that almost resembled a shouting match.
Livingston sighed. “I love Aunt Esme, but do not put me next to her.”
“No one wants to be next to her, Livingston,” Papi said.
Papi was a stoic, gruff man. But he had always been warm to me and my brothers. He reminded me of Daddy so much. With his hazel eyes, that always seemed to have a twinkle in them. Momma said Livingston got his mischief from Papi.
Daddy and Étienne’s dirty blond hair came directly from Papi although his was nothing but gray, with a thick mustache to match. When I was seven, I once asked if I could touch it and he said if I did, it would make him sneeze. I still didn’t have the courage to ask again.
As we stood there, Momma’s parents walked in. We called them Grandma and Grandpa with a stiffness that matched who they were. It wasn’t done with malicious intent, but we saw them only a handful of times a year and when we did, we were only to speak unless spoken to.
“Children,” Grandpa Livingston said, “you look healthy.”
Grandpa greeted me and my brothers the way one would acknowledge a business acquaintance. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said.
Étienne dipped his head. “Thank you.”
Livingston was given his name in honor of Momma’s former last name. Although, I didn’t think that gesture ever meant anything to Grandpa. Between me and my siblings, there were never any favorites. We were more people he had to remember on his never-ending list of names.
As we faced our grandpa, Livingston had an arm around me. Both Étienne and Livingston were guarded as Grandpa inspected the foyer of Belgrave with an expression of distaste.
Once, Belgrave was his. Back when it was still a thriving plantation and Momma was young. But times had changed. And I thought every single change hadn’t met my Grandpa’s approval. Especially my daddy.
Just then, my papi and mamie approached. Grandma and Grandpa Livingston looked none too pleased. I looked between the two set of grandparents, noticing the sharp contrast. Although they all looked to be close in age, Papi and Mamie seemed almost youthful compared to Grandma and Grandpa Livingston. Grandpa had lost most of the hair on his head, and what was left was clinging around the sides. Lights from the chandelier ricocheted off his shiny bald head. His nose was red and bulbous, giving him the appearance of always being cold. I thought it matched his cold green eyes.
Grandma Livingston was just as rigid. She was a tall woman, nearly as tall as Grandpa. She never laughed, smiled, or even frowned. I thought that was why she didn’t have too many wrinkles. Her hooded hazel eyes were always judging and disapproving. Not once had she ever shown me warmth.
“Alexandre,” my grandpa said as way of greeting.
I knew my sets of grandparents didn’t care for one another. I didn’t know why. Adults never told me anything.
I once heard my parents talking about Grandma and Grandpa Livingston. “They think my family is less than because we were once part of the workin’ class,” Daddy said. “Let them believe it. My hands are dirty from hard work, but my money is clean.”
I never knew what he meant by that.
All I knew was that my papi and mamie always showered me and my siblings with love. They treated Momma as though she was their own daughter.
“How is the shippin’ company?” Grandpa asked Papi with an air of disdain.
“Doin’ well,” Papi paused. “Forgive me, Everett, for not wantin’ to discuss business at such a time. As you can imagine, we’re devastated by our loss, and more importantly, for our grandchildren’s loss.”
Grandpa looked between me and my brothers. His cheeks were red from the gentle scolding he received from Papi. Grandpa cleared his throat and nodded. “Of course. It’s a tragic time.”
Nothing about what he said rang true. I looked up at Étienne and Livingston and from their scowls, I knew they thought the same thing.
My grandparents looked behind them at the people entering the foyer and began to step away. “We’ll be in the sittin’ room.”
Panic started to fill me as I saw the doors of the sitting room. Immediately, I looked away, but I saw the solid oak of one of the caskets. If people were starting to arrive that meant the funeral would begin soon. I didn’t want to see my parents and Julian unmoving and in a box, but I also didn’t want to say good bye to them either.
I didn’t want to be here at all. Why couldn’t I hide?
Quietly, I walked behind Papi and slipped my hand into Mamie’s. She didn’t look down at me, but she squeezed my hand. They began to greet people, accepting condolences and well wishes.
A line had begun to form, and one of the families in the line were the Pleasontons. Rainey was wedged between her momma and brother, wearing a look of insolence. Every time she fidgeted, her momma snapped her fingers in front of her and sternly shook her head. Rainey didn’t say much when she was in front of me. She lost her own father just two years ago. I never knew what to say at that time, but I knew I needed to be there for her. It never crossed my mind that I would one day be in that same position.
Rainey came closer, and while the adults spoke to one another, she whispered, “It’s okay if it hurts. You know how badly I hurt after I lost Daddy.”
All I could do was nod and try not to cry.
Rainey moved from foot to foot. “I’ve been thinkin’ about this, and I think Daddy left early so he could build a cloud house for your parents and Jul
ian. That way they’re all together and safe. Forever.” She nodded rapidly. “That sounds wonderful to me. What do you think?”
I wanted my family all the way together, and alive. But to imagine Julian safe and sound filled me with a small amount of comfort. I slowly nodded.
Rainey gave me a small smile and backed away. “This dress is too tight,” she said loud enough for the adults to hear.
Somberly, I nodded. “So is mine.”
“I’m takin’ it off the first chance I get,” my best friend declared.
“Rainey,” Mrs. Pleasonton chided as they walked away.
My best friend’s honesty brought things back to its rightful order, if only for one second. Then I spotted Ben greeting more people at the front door and reality came back. I smiled sadly at Rainey’s retreating figure, wishing she would come back and stand next to me.
My heart gave the barest of leap when I saw the Calhoun family walk in and Asa approach Étienne. My heart had felt broken since Étienne gave me the news of my parents and brother’s death, but seeing Asa was a small beacon of hope. He looked handsome in a dark gray suit but that was all I seemed to notice. The events of today were weighing too heavily to feel or observe anything else.
When I saw Asa’s parents, I thought of what Momma once said about them. I didn’t picture his momma as a cruel person. She was always kind to me and had a smile for me. But Asa’s daddy… he scared me. He was similar to Grandpa Livingston. He thought children should be seen and not heard. I don’t think he had ever said hello to me.
Asa gave Étienne and Livingston brief hugs and quietly spoke to them. He reached me, and his stoic brown eyes turned sympathetic as he looked down at me. “Nat.”
I managed a weak hello. He bent down so were eye level. “I am terribly sorry for your loss.”
I nodded, unable to say anything else.
“I will be here if you need anythin’.”