“Let’s go.” Booth took her hand and led her to the wagon. Hestia realized he made the motion out of the desire to get a good place rather than romantic inclination. Why, he would have grabbed the hand of any friend he wanted to sit near on the ride, she reasoned. Their haste was rewarded as they scrambled with others to compete for prime spots. Thanks to Booth’s quick movements, they grabbed a position where they could rest their backs on the side of the wagon. While not a luxurious overstuffed chair to be sure, the wooden planks offered a degree of comfort. The slower—or perhaps more polite—among them were stuck sitting in the middle of the wagon with plenty of hay but nowhere to lean. The clean hay, damp with night dew, smelled of a pleasant mustiness.
Hestia shivered. “I’m cold.” She instantly regretted her admission.
“Here, take my coat.” Without delay, he whipped it off and placed it around her shoulders. His warmth still saturated the wool.
“I can’t take this. You’ll freeze. I’m the one who should suffer since I was foolish and failed to bring my shawl.” She made a silent resolution not to be so vain in the future.
She hadn’t forgotten the shawl but had skipped the plain wrap so he could see her beautiful embroidered blouse. Out of courtesy to him, she made a motion to take off the jacket.
“I won’t hear of that,” Booth protested. “I’ll just sit closer to you, if that’s okay.”
She didn’t want to seem too eager. “Seems that’s the least I can do.”
After the driver made sure everyone was seated, he made a clucking sound and pulled on the reins to urge the mules forward. Anticipating a rough start, everyone held on and tried not to lose balance when the wagon took off slowly, but with a jerk.
Booth settled comfortably beside her, close enough that their combined body heat warmed them. He placed his arm around her shoulders, which helped them ward off the chill. Soon Hestia felt comfortable and snuggled closer to Booth. On one hand, she found she welcomed the excuse, but on the other, she felt guilty that he had sacrificed his jacket for her.
The wagon bumped along an uneven country trail. Hitting ruts, they swayed back and forth. There was little chatter as everyone admired the harvest moon, which lit the night enough that, once their eyes adjusted, allowed everyone to appreciate their bucolic surroundings. Hestia breathed in the night air. The heavy scent of burning leaves filled her nostrils at one point. She always enjoyed raking leaves and then burning them, filling the air with an aroma that told the world fall had arrived and was ready to settle in for a time. The sound of wagon wheels churning and the mules’ hooves plodding on the ground offered a comforting rhythm. All was right with the world.
A vigorous bump threw Booth closer to her. “You okay?”
“Fine.” She looked into his eyes. Though their blueness wasn’t evident in the night, she could see them sparkling. The way he looked at her said he wanted to be even closer. Did he want to kiss her? She wished she were bold enough to bring her lips to his. But she couldn’t make such a promise. A kiss would be a commitment that she would stay in Maiden forever.
The next day, Selene and Hestia shared time by sewing in the back den. The room held even more mementos than other rooms in the house. Aunt Louisa’s skill at embroidery evidenced itself in a bell pull stitched in a crewel floral pattern, along with two complementary pictures and several pillows tossed on the sofa and two chairs. Heavy blue draperies had been installed by Tillie for winter, to keep out the draft. A worn blue Oriental rug covered the floor, offering additional warmth against the anticipated chill.
Hestia had just taught Selene how to darn stockings. Selene’s enthusiasm for the project left much to be desired, but at least it gave her something to do. Hestia could have mended much faster, but in her view, Selene needed to learn a few domestic skills. The task wasn’t urgent, so the time learning proved to be well-spent.
Having saved the more challenging tasks for herself, Hestia had almost finished mending a few odds and ends. Next, they would shell the pecans Artie had brought, which had been harvested from two trees in his yard. Selene had already claimed some of the nuts so she could cook a pie for Artie. Hestia’s heart warmed at how her cousin had taken to baking.
Selene let out a breath strong enough to blow the wisps of hair framing her face. Dark roots had grown uncomfortably visible, but at least Selene had given up complaining about her lack of fresh hair dye. “I wish I could find something to do other than mindless chores. Even that silly hayride you went on last night sounds good in comparison to dying a slow death here.”
Hestia’s mind focused on the time she and Booth had spent side by side. All morning she’d been giving thanks for the previous evening. The needle moved faster as her good mood increased. “Everybody has to do a few mindless chores. That’s part of life, whether you realize it or not. The sooner you become skilled at small tasks, the more quickly they shall pass. After we shell the pecans, you can read for entertainment.”
“Read?” Selene groaned.
“What’s the matter?” Hestia couldn’t understand her cousin’s unhappiness. “Don’t you like the periodicals I bought you?”
“Sure, but I can only read them so many times. And I can only rest and sleep so much. I really miss New York.”
Hestia stopped sewing and set the blouse in her lap. “I know you had parties at night. What did you do all day?”
A dreamy look lit Selene’s eyes. She stared, unseeing, into the corner of the ceiling. “Oh, I slept in most mornings.”
“Just as you do now. See, not everything’s changed.”
Selene stuck her tongue out at Hestia in a playful manner. “I would have a light lunch and then go in for a beauty treatment and maybe a little exercise. Most days I’d shop. Sometimes my girlfriends and I would play cards and eat at restaurants. Then we had parties. Lots of parties.”
Hestia considered Selene’s currently lean schedule. “I’m sure living here is quite an adjustment for you.”
“Sure is. Why, you can’t hear anything here. It’s so quiet, except for the trains passing through. Like living on the moon or something.” She sighed.
“Well, this is a different kind of life. You’ll have to learn to take your pleasures in simple things and little joys.” Hestia resumed her mending.
Diamond entered the room, fresh from her nap on the kitchen rug. She made her way to Selene and rubbed herself against Selene’s legs. “Good girl, Diamond.”
The cat ventured to Hestia and repeated her rubbing. Hestia bent over and stroked the animal on her head.
“Is this what you meant by simple pleasures and joys? I have my own cat in New York.” Selene sewed a stitch and then studied her handiwork. “How does that look?” She held it up for Hestia’s inspection.
“Good.” Hestia nodded.
“You know, it might be easier if Aunt Louisa would let me out of the house, but I’m trapped in here all the time. It’s not like the whole town doesn’t know that she’s got two nieces on her hands. One is wayward Selene and the other is saintly Hestia.”
“I doubt people are talking like that. At least, I hope not.” Hestia completed her work on the blouse and finished it off. “What about Artie?”
“What about him?” Hestia detected yearning in Selene’s voice.
“He seems to like you despite your condition. Not every man would be so fearless, you know.”
“I know. And I do like him. But I’m going back to New York after all this is over.”
“Are you certain you want to go back? Sure, life here isn’t as fancy as the way you live in New York, and it never will be. But I’ve seen how you look at Artie. You’ve got a crush.”
“No…” Selene made a point of avoiding Hestia’s gaze.
“Have you ever wanted to bake pies—or anything else—for any other man?” Hestia folded the blouse.
“No, but I still haven’t given up on going back.”
“You’ll have to give up the baby, and nothing will be the same.”<
br />
“Sure it will. I can go right back to my life as I knew it.” She set the mended stocking aside and pulled a piece of stationery out of her pocket. “They haven’t forgotten me. Look. I just got a letter today.”
“Oh, that’s good to hear. Who wrote it?”
“My best friend in New York—in the world, really. Flora Wallace.” Selene sighed. “Oh, you should see Flora. She and I are the perfect team. She has hair blacker than coal, and her complexion is a bit darker than mine. She’s really tall. We’re opposites in appearance, but we dress alike, with our shimmery dresses cut right to the figure. And of course, we both adore face paint from Paris. Everywhere we go, we get stares and whistles. When we arrive, the party starts.”
Despite Selene’s excitement in describing her friend, Hestia couldn’t understand the appeal. “I see.”
“Look at this letter.” Selene handed it to Hestia.
The paper was of heavy stock, and the penmanship looked girlish but not childish. Hestia read:
Selene, darling:
What is taking you so long to come back to New York?
Hestia stopped reading. “Selene, you didn’t tell her about what happened with Ned?”
“No. I don’t want anybody at home to know.”
“Not even the person you say is your best friend in the world?” Hestia understood, but how could such a thing be kept a secret from someone so close?
“If I’d wanted everyone to know, do you think I’d come all this way to wait out my pregnancy? Keep reading.”
We miss you awfully. Things here are dreadful without you. Ned is all balled up. He says you two aren’t an item anymore, and now he’s making time with—you won’t believe it—Lucy Van Buren! She is such a wet blanket. Ned hardly comes to any parties anymore.
“I wonder what he’s doing instead.” Selene’s voice was laced with sarcasm. “If Lucy doesn’t watch her step, she’ll be in the same fix I’m in. Maybe worse.”
Hestia couldn’t imagine much worse, but she kept reading.
Serves him right. If I had to take that dumb Dora everywhere, I’d stay home, too! You know, you have much better gams. Everyone says so.
“That’s so true.” Selene giggled.
Hestia decided not to comment but kept reading:
She had no right to move in on Ned in such a bold way. I’d like to punch her in the kisser for you. The girls and I are high-hatting her for you, though.
“High-hatting her?” Hestia asked.
“Being snobby. Not speaking to her except when they have to.”
“Oh.”
She’s too dim to realize it—you know, nobody’s home—but she doesn’t have any friends in our crowd anymore. Oh, and speaking of friends, Bessie, Nina, and Lula all want to know what’s taking that aunt of yours so long to recover. They want you back.
“So you told them you’re taking care of Aunt Louisa?” Hestia asked.
Selene shrugged. “I didn’t have a chance to say good-bye. Father put me on the train and told me not to get into any more trouble. He must have told them that. It doesn’t matter. Keep reading.”
Oh, and Willie and Rudy were asking after you—and that was before they got spifflicated, so you know they meant it.
“What’s spifflicated?” Hestia asked.
Selene sighed as though she were an impatient teacher instructing a particularly dull student. “You know. Zozzled. Fried to the hat. Plastered.”
“You mean, intoxicated?”
“Yeah, I suppose that’s a word you could use, too.” Selene rolled her eyes. “Man, don’t you ever have any fun?”
“I already told you. Not that kind of fun.” Hestia kept reading:
Maybe all four of us can go on a double date after you get back. I always did think Rudy was swell. You don’t mind Willie so much, do you?
“Not at all!” Selene spoke as though Hestia knew Willie. “Oh, doesn’t that sound like loads of fun?”
“I don’t know. Do you really want to keep company with a drunk?”
“A drunk?”
“Yes. Your friend admitted as much in this letter.”
“Oh. But they don’t get fried to the hat all that much. Just sometimes. You know, to loosen up. I’ll bet if you tried a little sip now and then, you could loosen up, too.”
Hestia had no desire to keep the conversation on herself. “Ned imbibed in spirits, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t think that’s a good idea, Selene. You might find yourself right back here if you take up with another man like Ned. I’d think you could see that, all things considered.”
Selene patted her belly. “Oh, this won’t happen again. I can promise you that. You’re such a killjoy.”
“I’m sorry. I know I seem that way, but you have to see reality.”
“I don’t want to see reality. I want to go back home, where my friends are. I want my life back!” Selene snatched the letter from Hestia’s hand. “I can’t share anything with you. You just don’t understand. I don’t have any friends here. Not a friend in the world.” Selene rose from her chair, abandoning her chore. Instead, she rushed to the bedroom. Hestia could hear Selene slam the door.
Aunt Louisa soon emerged from washing the breakfast dishes, her gait slow but her color looking better than when she was still confined to bed. “What was that all about? I don’t take kindly to slamming doors in my house. It’s unladylike, not to mention being hard on the house.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that Selene and I don’t see eye to eye on how she should behave once she goes back to New York. She received a letter today from one of her friends back home that got her all excited and homesick. I don’t think she realizes the folly of going right back into the same type of life she left.”
Aunt Louisa sat in the chair that Selene had just vacated. “She’s emotional. She’ll get over it. Don’t worry. I’m sure you told her the right thing. But this is one decision she’ll have to make on her own.”
“I think I need to go in and see her.” Hestia rose. “Will you excuse me?”
Aunt Louisa nodded but examined the stockings Selene had left. “I hope she plans to finish up this mending. Crying and pouting won’t get any work done.”
“I know. I’m sure she’ll resume once she’s feeling better.” Hestia took her leave of her aunt then quietly entered the room she and Selene shared. Since she’d had this type of confrontation with the volatile Selene in the past, her cousin didn’t bother to try to get rid of her with a twenty-three-skidoo. Instead, Selene sat on the bed, hugging a goose feather pillow and rocking back and forth. Tears streamed down her face. Hestia watched one drip from her left cheek onto the pillow.
Fighting the urge to sit on the bed and comfort her cousin with an embrace, Hestia made herself content to sit on her own twin bed. The beds were close enough to allow for a quiet conversation but not so close as to make Selene feel that Hestia intruded.
“I know it’s hard.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t have any idea.” Fresh tears fell.
Hestia bit her tongue to keep from reminding Selene that she had made the decision to live the fast life, so now she reaped the consequences. Instead, she offered consolation. “You said you don’t have any friends here. Do you really believe that?”
Selene hesitated. Hestia thought she might admit she had several friends, but, instead, a stubborn knitting of the brows was followed by a frown. “Yes.”
“Don’t be a silly goose. You have lots of friends, especially for someone who doesn’t get out much. Think about Booth. He’s friendly with you. And you know you can count on me.”
“Can I?”
“Of course. Why would you think anything else?”
“Because you’re leaving me all alone with Aunt Louisa, that’s why. How will I ever stand being by myself with her until April? The thought makes me want to die.”
“Did it ever occur to you that she’s making a sacrifice for you? She’s old and f
eeble, and being responsible for a vibrant young woman such as yourself has to be trying on her. Why, even your father couldn’t handle you.”
Selene started and an angry look entered her eyes. Hestia thought she might deliver a retort, but then Selene relaxed. Apparently she saw the truth of Hestia’s statement even if she didn’t agree.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be harsh. But you have to admit it’s the truth.”
“I guess I am a handful. I can try to make things easier for Aunt Louisa. Really I can. But you’re right—she’s old and feeble, and we don’t get along so well even with you here. Whatever will I do without you? You might be a Mrs. Grundy, but you’re a young Mrs. Grundy, and you have an idea about what it’s like to want to have a little fun once in a while.”
“Aunt Louisa was young once, too.”
“When? During the Civil War?”
Hestia couldn’t help but shake her head in amusement at Selene’s exaggeration. She twisted her heel into the multicolored braided rug. “I’ll agree she grew up in a different world, a different time. But people never change. Not really. That’s one of the many reasons the Bible is timeless. Scripture talks about human nature, both good and bad. That will always be with us, whether we’re ancient Romans or flappers.”
Hestia halfway expected Selene to rebuke her for mentioning the Bible. “I have something to tell you.” Selene sniffled.
Hestia tried to hold back her surprise. “Yes?”
“Artie mentioned the Bible the other night when he was here. He says he’s read it all the way through. Twice.”
Hestia arched her eyebrows. “That is admirable. I’ve read it all the way through once, but I confess, after that I have tended to linger on my favorite books and passages, the ones that speak to me. He shames me. I really should revisit the whole book again. But you know who shames just about everyone?”
“Who?”
“Aunt Louisa. Did you know she’s read the entire Bible straight through almost twenty-eight times?”
Love Finds You in Maiden, North Carolina Page 13