Persuaded

by Alicia J. Chumney

  Derek,

  I don’t know when you will get this. Mama (at this Anne hesitated to finish typing up her e-mail. Finishing that sentence would make it real.) … Mama … This is really hard to type out. I thought typing those horrible, awful, no good words would be easier than when I had to call Aunt Cassandra. She’s in New York this week. Mama warned her about going so far away, but… Aunt didn’t listen. She let out a round of cuss words that would probably make some of your sailor friends blush. Because she wasn’t there when… when… when Mama… I hope I don’t have to finish this for you to actually understand what I’m struggling to type.

  I wish you could be here. I need you, but I doubt you’ll be able to get leave since we aren’t family. I’m just your girlfriend.

  I imagine you couldn’t even get leave if something happened to me.

  I miss you.

  Elizabeth is taking the excuse to go black dress shopping. Even though she has three black dresses in her closet with the tags still attached, but they aren’t ‘in season’. Same with her shoes.

  Also, she is no longer Beth. She is now Elizabeth. She is already planning on taking over in Mama’s place, even if she refuses to make certain that dinner is cooked and the house is clean. No, those tasks fall on her sisters, whom she now bosses around.

  I cannot wait to go to Chicago. It was one of Mama’s biggest hopes for me and I don’t want to disappoint her.

  It’s been twenty-four hours and I miss her already.

  Anne

  Typing up her letter to Derek and hitting send was enough to open up the floodgates that had been barred, excluding a few leaks, ever since her mother had passed. Even the phone call informing her aunt wasn’t enough to lift that bar that refused to budge.

  She was starting to feel terrible that all she felt was numb, that the tears she had previously cried had dried up. But suddenly, as if by hitting that send button, it was as if everything was real.

  There the Elliot girls were, all sitting in a row. Tall, medium, short. Oldest, middle, youngest. Anybody paying attention could tell that Anne’s eyes were still puffy and red, whereas her sisters barely looked as if they had shed a tear.

  Their father sat next to Elizabeth. His suit was perfectly pressed – a demand that was anticipated by his middle daughter even as his elder daughter took the credit – and his gray tie perfectly matched his eyes – also picked by Anne even as Elizabeth took the credit. However, it was the expression in his eyes that bothered anybody that looked or spoke to him. There was a blank, empty look in their depths even as his conversations bordered on the shallow and superficial.

  Cassandra sat behind Anne and occasionally placed a hand on her shoulder whenever it seemed as if Anne was going to break down into tears.

  The entire service was a blur. People stood up to speak about her mother, but Anne didn’t recognize any of the familiar faces. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes even though she had thought she had cried herself out.

  Elizabeth – no longer Beth – played the part of the gracious hostess as friends of their mother and father from church and other various places came around with their store-bought casseroles and other grief offerings in respect to the Southern tradition of bringing food to a wake after a funeral.

  Mary, an immature sixteen, merely rolled her eyes as person after person rang the doorbell. She was frequently sent off with a dish to the kitchen as her older sisters managed to handle the curious crowds with grace and hospitality.

  Their father was in his study staring at a picture of his wife. All condolences went in one ear and out the other as he barely heard a single word any of the well-wishers gave him.

  All four of them, Cassandra, and then a select handful of Eliza Elliot’s true friends knew that these people were here more to gawk at Walter Elliot’s estate and comment on their belongings.

  “At least they are bringing food,” Elizabeth whispered to her sister. “We won’t have to cook for a while.”

  Holding back a frustrated sigh, Anne thought that she wouldn’t have to cook for a while. She had yet to see Elizabeth make anything that didn’t involve the microwave or pouring cereal and milk into a bowl.

  Although, on further reflection, Elizabeth could throw some of these dishes into the microwave or oven in order to warm it up. Anne doubted she would.

  With any luck, some of these people had taken pity on the three sisters and assumed that none of them were aware of how to cook. They wouldn’t know that Anne had taken to studying a cookbook to keep her stress levels down. She discovered she liked cooking as she was learning.

  Someday she hoped she would be able to show off her newly acquired talents to Derek.

  Anne

  I wish I was there more than anything in the world. I am with you in spirit until I can be there in person.

  Derek

  Out of all of her friends, Derek knew what it was like to lose a mother and he couldn’t come and help her through her grief.

  Chapter Eighteen

  They both knew the odds of Derek being able to attend her prom and graduation were slim. Prom was definitely out of the question, but they held out hope that his leave would line up with her graduation ceremony.

  Regardless, Anne was dragged into prom dress shopping with Robin. Robin swore that this trip could help distract Anne from things, but she wasn’t expecting to see Anne break down in the dressing room while wearing a dark purple prom dress.

  “Oh, Anne!” Robin cried, folding her arms around her friend. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “I should be dress shopping with Mama,” Anne hiccupped. “I’ll never get to go dress shopping with her ever again.” Fresh tears streamed down her face.

  “Come on,” Robin hugged her friend. “Let’s get you out of this dress before you have to buy it. Dark purple is not your color.”

  Anne gave a watery laugh as they went in the dressing room to get this dress off of her. “Mary would love this dress.”

  “Mary is a twit,” Robin retorted. “She would look like an eggplant in this dress.”

  “An eggplant?’

  “She has hips,” she answered, unzipping the back of this dress.

  “What’s so wrong with this dress after that other purple dress I tried on earlier? You said that one suited me.”

  “This one has too much red in the purple. The other was more of a jewel-tone on the bluish side.”

  “Okay,” Anne drew out, hoping that Robin assumed that she had understood what her friend had said, even if she didn’t.

  “With your pale skin, cool colors compliment you. If you had a slightly more pinkish undertone…” Robin trailed off with her explanation. “You don’t understand what I’m saying, do you?”

  “Not at all,” Anne shook her head.

  “I thought you, of all people, would.”

  “Why is that?” Anne tried to nonchalantly ask as she flipped through a rack of dresses.

  “Because you understand warm and cool colors.”

  “Not when it comes to fashion.”

  “Huh.” Robin thought for a moment before saying, “Well, you’ve got me to help you out.”

  “Only for a little while.”

  “Won’t Beth help?”

  Anne let out a sharp laugh. “Do you really think that Beth would help me pick out clothes when she won’t even help me by picking up her own clothes?” Shaking her head, she added, “Beth is in it for Beth and only Beth. She’s doesn’t care as long as somebody doesn’t look better than her.”

  Robin looked at Anne for a moment before adding, “Your hair would look better if it wasn’t always in that ponytail.”

  “You aren’t the only person who has said that to me,” Anne smiled softly.

  “The infamous Derek?” Robin asked. “I can’t wait to see him. Again.”

  “Maybe at graduation,” Anne replied, hanging up the offensive dress on the return racks. “Why did you even let me try this dress on?”

  “I did
n’t realize you had picked it up,” Robin admitted. “I was looking at my own dresses.” Eying Anne carefully, she pulled her friend over to some darker blue dresses. “Sapphire blue will look amazing with your skin tone, and I think they’ll make your brown eyes pop.”

  “I almost have Mama’s eyes,” Anne admitted, beginning to tear up again. “Beth’s are a little darker than mine and Mary’s are gray like Father’s.”

  “Well, you definitely lucked out in the genetics department.”

  “I’ve love to have Beth’s more manageable hair.”

  “No,” Robin shook her head. “I don’t think that her hair would fit your personality.”

  “Why does everybody keep saying that?”

  “Anne,” her friend laughed. “You are a lot more passionate about things then you let people see. Anybody that has ever talked art with you can see it. You just disappear between your sisters because they are so demanding and you aren’t.”

  “You don’t have to sound so…” But Anne didn’t know how to finish that sentence.

  “Look,” Robin stated, making Anne look at her. “Someday something is going to happen and you’ll refuse to be silent any longer.” Smiling, she added, “I hope I’m there to see it.”

  “I hope you are too,” Anne smiled back, pulling her friend into a hug. “What would I do without you?”

  “Send Derek a ton more e-mails and letters then you already do.”

  “Probably.”

  “Let’s go try on this dress,” Robin instructed as she pulled out a dress that made Anne think of a princess dress but with a less fluffy skirt. “The sweetheart neckline will give you the illusion of a bigger chest and the back is high enough you can pull off a strapless bra.”

  Eying the dress carefully, she tilted her head before pulling another dress off the rack. “How about this one? It has a halter style neck and I won’t worry about my bra slipping down while we are dancing.”

  Robin examined the dress, muttering out comments as she did so. “Almost a full skirt. Good color.” Instructing Anne to turn the dress around by twilling a finger, she cocked her head to the other side. “The back isn’t too low. Nice shimmer.” Nodding her head, she snagged another dress – this one for herself in soft pink – and guided Anne towards the dressing rooms. “One of these is your dress.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Great,” Nathan groaned as the realization of Graduation suddenly occurred to him.

  “What?”

  “We are graduating,” he moaned.

  Laughing, Robin asked, “What’s so wrong with that. It’ll get us away from our domineering parents.

  “Robin…” Nathan started to say before Charlie interrupted him by laughing.

  “How could I possibly forget?” he continued to chuckle.

  “Forget what?” Robin asked, completely confused at this point. “Anne, do you have a clue what they are talking about?”

  Shrugging a shoulder, Anne looked back down at the notes in front of her that she was studying. “I just know that I have to pass Chemistry. I got behind when…” she hesitated, “and Mrs. Bransfield was a bitch about it even though the front office told her that I had to make up the test I had missed when I was out. She didn’t give me the study guide out of spite and everybody else had already turned theirs in. Even Rick Pratt, the shy guy everybody knows is failing.”

  Charlie leaned towards Anne and grinned, “Then you need a laugh and you will laugh when you find out Nathan’s full name.”

  “You know his full name?” Robin exclaimed questioningly. “I don’t even know his full name. How do you know it?”

  “I’ve known Nathan here since the second grade. I was staying over one time when he got in trouble with his mama. You know how moms are when you are in trouble.”

  “Actually,” Anne drawled, still not looking up, “I don’t. I was never in trouble.”

  “Never?” Charlie asked, disbelief coloring his tone.

  “And my sisters weren’t either,” she added. “Granted, Beth… sorry, Elizabeth,” she corrected herself more to get in the habit of calling her sister by her full first name, “and Mary both knew to go to my father and he’d let them get away with murder.”

  “Guys!” Nathan interrupted. “My life as we all know it is about to be over as soon as they call out my name during graduation rehearsal and then graduation itself.”

  “It’s a name,” Anne reasoned. “And you’ll be going to Florida and will forget all about us up here where you can have all four seasons in a week and a massive sinus headache on top of it.”

  “And this one is coming with me and you know she’ll never let me live it down,” Nathan countered, bumping Robin with his shoulder.

  “Oh please,” Robin rolled her eyes. “My parents named me Robin Rainbow Brite Moore. How bad can it really be?”

  Drawing in a deep breath, Nathan answered her, “Nathanial Jeremiah Warren Peter Parker Smith.”

  “Peter Parker?” Charlie laughed. “Like Spiderman?” He hadn’t made the connection in the second grade.

  Shrugging. “My dad liked comics and my mom’s maiden name is Parker.”

  “That’s my uncle’s name,” Anne looked up, not paying attention to what Charlie had said.

  “Peter Parker?”

  “Warren.”

  “Oh.”

  “You have six names!” Robin exclaimed. “Who has six names?”

  “David had eight,” Anne countered.

  “Who is David?”

  “The soccer player,” she explained. At their blank expressions, she added, “He was my lab partner for Biology when we dissected that frog.” With a shrug, she continued, “Besides, Robin has a better chance at getting teased for her middle name. Yours are all mostly normal. Lengthy, but normal.”

  “That’s right!” Robin grinned. “I’m named after a doll.”

  “I thought it was a cartoon.”

  “Maybe it was both?” Robin pulled out her phone to look it up. Moments later, she sighed, “It was both. At least, a doll was made because of the show.” Turning towards Anne, she pleaded, “Please tell me you also have an awkward middle name.”

  Raising her head away from her notes, she stared at her best friend for a long moment. “We’ve been best friends for years and you don’t remember my middle name.”

  “I don’t think we’ve ever discussed it.”

  “We did. That’s how I knew your middle name.”

  Narrowing her eyes, Robin studied her friend. “How do I know that you already knew my middle name?”

  “What did I get you as a joke for your fourteenth birthday?”

  Robin thought about it for a moment before remembering the Rainbow Brite doll Anne had managed to find and give her, along with a more practical gift card to her favorite store. “Oh. Right.”

  “Well,” Charlie leaned forward. “What it is?”

  “Hey!” Nathan interjected. “You haven’t told us yours, either.”

  “Henry. After my father.”

  “Katarina,” Anne replied. “After my mother’s mother.”

  “That sounds…” Charlie trailed off.

  “Italian, I know. Where else do you think Beth… Elizabeth gets her complexion and both of us get this crazy curly, dark hair? Of course, there is some Greek and Spanish in there as well.”

  “But you are pasty white,” Nathan protested.

  Nudging him, Robin hissed, “Rude much.”

  Ignoring the exchange, and realizing that Nathan didn’t mean anything by it, Anne explained, “My father has either an Irish or Scottish background. I think there might be some French in there as well, somewhere, but Father never has paid that much attention to his ancestry. I think my Uncle Warren might know, but I don’t have a clue how to contact him.”

  They were silent for a long moment as Anne went back to studying for her Chemistry final, the only final where her grades weren’t good enough to be exempt because of one single test.

  Breaking t
he silence, Nathan nudged Robin, “So, Rainbow Brite?”

  “Jeremiah was a bullfrog,” she countered.

  “What?” he asked, confused.

  Rolling her eyes, “It’s a song my dad likes to sing. Three Dog Night sang it. Dad likes to keep their songs on repeat.”

  Years later Anne would remember her Graduation Rehearsal more than her actual Graduation. It lacked the noise and boring speeches from the Valedictorian who thought he knew everything but, in reality, he had only studied hard enough to beat the Salutatorian by less than a fifth of a point.

  She would remember seeing some of her friends, a few of them for the last time despite promises that they would see each other over vacations.

  She would remember the excitement that her graduating class felt as they left the school grounds as students for the last time. The next time they stepped foot in that building they would be wearing caps and gowns, getting ready to walk across a stage and receiving a placeholder diploma and a handshake.

  It would be years before Anne could look back at her actual graduation ceremony and celebration without thinking about Derek.

  Chapter Twenty

  Closing her eyes, Anne held the phone to her ear. After three rings, Derek finally picked up. “Hey! Where are you?”

  “I'm running a bit late,” he said from his end of the connection.

  The past week was nice. Derek was on leave until they determined his next station. He could have completely missed her graduation, but instead, they got to talk on the phone every day.

  “How late?” she asked, ignoring Robin in the background that Anne needed to hurry up.

  “I'm maybe five miles away. I can hear Robin telling you to hurry up.”

  “She can wait,” Anne responded. “I don't have to walk.”

  “No, you are walking and I will be in the stands watching you.”