Love Finds You in Maiden, North Carolina

by Tamela Hancock Murray

  “Oh, do let me live vicariously through you. Show me what you got.”

  “You really want to see?” Hestia’s voice sounded her excitement.

  “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

  Hestia showed her the shoes then the hat.

  “You can’t wear your new hat without getting all that hair out of the way.”

  Hestia sighed. “I’m wearing it in a low bun.”

  “A low bun? If you do that, you’ll not only be a Mrs. Grundy, but you’ll look like one, too.”

  Hestia didn’t want to admit it, but Selene was right. “Maybe I should send it back.”

  “Did I hear the term Mrs. Grundy?” Aunt Louisa asked, entering the room. “Selene, I must insist that you stop using such derogatory terms.”

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Louisa.”

  Their aunt eyed Hestia wearing the pink hat. “That is quite flashy.”

  “Is it too much?”

  Aunt Louisa studied the feather. “I don’t suppose so for a young woman like you. But you have too much hair for it.”

  “That’s what I was telling her.” Selene sighed. “I can’t believe my hair has grown out so much. I can almost cut all the color out of it. I’m not used to looking so mousy, though.”

  “I don’t think you look mousy at all,” Aunt Louisa said.

  “That’s what you’d say. I am in desperate need of a new bob. Won’t you try to cut it for me, Hestia?”

  Hestia didn’t blame Selene for wanting a new haircut, as hers had grown shaggy, but Hestia lacked confidence with scissors. “Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t cut very much hair. Scissors don’t touch mine.”

  “It’s nothing. Why, Flora and I cut each other’s the first time we got our bobs.”

  “I’m pretty handy with scissors,” Aunt Louisa said. “Why don’t you let me do it?”

  “You?” Selene placed her hand on her chest. “Handy with scissors? Why, I can’t imagine you ever cut hair.”

  “I did indeed. Why, for a time, I ran a beauty parlor out of this house.”

  “You know, I seem to remember Papa mentioning that.” Hestia thought it best not to remind Aunt Louisa she had closed up shop long before The Great War.

  “I haven’t forgotten how to cut hair. Granted, we never chopped ours as much as you do now, but I could trim a straight line for the ladies who wanted to keep their hair from getting that ragged look.”

  Hestia thought about how the end of her hair had taken on the unflattering shape of a sloppy letter v. “I could use a trim myself.”

  “Well, we have our work cut out for us this afternoon, don’t we?” Louisa winked. “Don’t you like my joke?”

  “I suppose that is funny.” Hestia chuckled, and Selene shook her head.

  Filled with a sense of purpose, Aunt Louisa brightened. “Let me go fetch my scissors.”

  Eager to get her hair freshly bobbed, Selene shifted her considerable weight and sat on the edge of the bed.

  Aunt Louisa returned with the scissors and studied her charge. “Hmm. I’m not sure I should trim your hair dry, Selene. Do you feel well enough to walk over to the sink to have your hair washed? I think the weather is warm enough that washing it won’t endanger you with prospects of a cold.”

  “Copacetic!” She started to get out of bed.

  “Be careful!” Taking her arm, Hestia led Selene to the kitchen. The two women shampooed Selene’s frayed hair until it squeaked.

  “I think she can sit in the chair here long enough to have her hair cut,” Aunt Louisa said.

  “Do you feel up to it, Selene?”

  “Oh, yes.” Selene looked happier than Hestia had seen her in a long while. “I want to look nice for Artie.”

  Hestia watched as her aunt, with more skill than she knew the older woman possessed, snipped Selene’s hair into a neat line.

  “Oh, let me see,” Selene said after Aunt Louisa was satisfied.

  “Here’s a mirror.” Hestia gave Selene a silver mirror.

  Selene held it up and regarded her reflection. “I almost look like myself again.”

  “I thought you might like it. I admit, it took me some time to get used to the new style, but it can be right flattering on some of you younger women.” Aunt Louisa touched Selene’s hair. “You look much better with your natural hair color than you did when you first came here, with your hair that frightful white.”

  “I liked being a bright blond.” Selene grimaced at her reflection. “I think my natural color is dull.”

  “I think it’s a fine color. A dark blond with natural luster.” Aunt Louisa nodded once.

  “Tell it to Sweeney.” Selene looked at Hestia. “How about you, dear cousin? Why don’t you get your hair trimmed?”

  “I said I would. Do you mind, Aunt Louisa, since you’ve got the scissors out anyway?”

  “I’ll be happy to oblige.”

  “Will you let me stay and watch?” Selene asked. “I’m feeling fine, and I promise not to move from this seat.”

  “Well, I don’t suppose Dr. Lattimore will mind too much. You’ve been so good.” Aunt Louisa smiled.

  For Selene’s sake, Hestia made haste to wash her hair. It took longer to cleanse than Selene had taken with hers, since Hestia’s fell to her waist, but eventually she was ready.

  Aunt Louisa held the scissors. “How much do you want me to take off?”

  Selene studied Hestia’s hair “How about three feet?”

  “Three feet?” Hestia took a seat in a chair. “Don’t you mean three inches?”

  “No. I mean three feet.”

  “Selene!”

  “Oh, come on. Isn’t it time for your hair to match your new dresses? Think about your Easter bonnet.”

  Hestia remembered the array of hats in Lincolnton. “I know. I’ve been torn. The newer styles do lend themselves to shorter hair.”

  “Of course they do. Long hair is nice for little girls, but with the new fashions, all the stylish women—not just flappers—will be wearing their hair short, especially now that spring is just around the corner.”

  “You think so?” Hestia realized Selene’s sentiments reflected what the milliner said.

  “I know so.” Selene pointed her finger at Hestia. “I may not get out much, but I haven’t forgotten everything about the world.”

  “What do you think, Aunt Louisa? I don’t want people to think I’m a…” She looked at Selene and felt chagrined.

  “You can say it.” Selene rolled her eyes. “Flapper.”

  Hestia cleared her throat. “Judith said she was thinking about getting her hair bobbed.”

  “Really?” Aunt Louisa seemed surprised. “Do you think she’ll do it?”

  “Usually when Judith entertains a notion enough to mention it, she goes ahead with it. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised to see her with a bob on Easter Sunday.”

  “She’ll have one if she plans to wear a new cloche hat.”

  Hestia thought about the pink hat with the rhinestone. “Okay. You can bob it. If you don’t mind, Aunt Louisa.”

  “What will your father say?”

  “I’ll take full responsibility. And I’m the one who’ll have to live with him, not you.”

  “Let me save your hair for you,” Aunt Louisa said. “You’ll want to remember it.” With a piece of twine she tied Hestia’s hair near the nape of her neck, then braided the rest and tied if off again.

  “Are you ready?”

  “I’m ready.” Hestia took in a deep breath. Selene’s eyes widened. “Here goes.”

  Aunt Louisa took her scissors and with a quick but careful motion cut off the braid. “There it is. Your hair. You can keep it forever.”

  Hestia studied the braid. Was that her hair? Hair that had been a part of her for so long, part of her identity, her crowning glory? And now it was gone, in the name of fashion. Reaching around, she touched the small of her back. No hair. Raising her hand close to her ear, she felt the bottom of her newly short hair. Her long hair. It was g
one. Gone forever.

  “Oh!” She started to sob.

  Aunt Louisa set the braid on the table and embraced Hestia. “There, there. If you don’t like your new style, you can always grow it back.”

  “That’s right.” Clearly Selene wanted to encourage Hestia all she could. “It’ll grow back.”

  “How many years will that take?” Hestia sobbed.

  “Well, it’s gone now, and I can’t glue it back on.” Having spent her quotient of sympathy, Aunt Louisa got down to business. “Now let me finish it off so it’ll swing the same as Selene’s. Now don’t you like the way Selene’s looks?”

  Hestia sniffled and studied her cousin in her fresh bob. She nodded. “I just hope Booth likes it.”

  “He will.”

  “And if he doesn’t, plenty of others will think it’s the bee’s knees.” Selene tapped her hand on the table for emphasis.

  Aunt Louisa trimmed Hestia’s hair, adding flattering bangs since those, too, were the style. “Now take a look. What do you think?”

  Accepting the mirror, Hestia obeyed. “Who is that?”

  Selene let out a low whistle. “With a little lip paint, you could pass muster in New York.”

  “I’m not aiming for that, but I hope no one in Maiden is too shocked.”

  “The fact that I not only allowed you to bob your hair but that I did the bobbing myself may shock some people.” Aunt Louisa tilted her head, admiring her handiwork. “Most don’t remember me when I was a young thing. I cut quite a fine figure, if I do say so myself. But with your natural looks and modest dress, I believe we are striking an appropriate appearance for you. Modern, but not too daring. And your conduct shall continue to honor God.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Still, her heart pitter-pattered. What would Booth say when he picked her up to go to Easter services?

  “You’re so lucky you get to go on Sunday.” Selene rested her chin in her hand and sighed. “I wish I could put on a new dress and go out.”

  “Your time to go out again will come.” Hestia hoped her words comforted her cousin, even though she could hardly speculate when an outing would be possible. She noted Selene’s large midsection. She looked as though she had the watermelon that had won the blue ribbon at the county fair attached to her.

  Aunt Louisa spoke up. “I think the baby might be here sooner than you think.”

  Hestia swallowed. That would mean Selene would say good-bye to her baby forever. Even though she wasn’t the mother, Hestia had become attached to the thought of the baby, over the months. How could Selene give up the baby? She prayed for Selene to have courage when the time came. She didn’t think she could give up her baby if she were in Selene’s place.

  Hestia thought about her father and his detached attitude toward his patients. She had always thought him a bit hard-hearted for lack of emotion. Now, for the first time, she understood him. She didn’t think she could have a relationship with people on such an intimate level and not become involved. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for medicine after all.

  A tear escaped her eye. Let them think she still mourned for her long hair.

  Chapter Nineteen

  On Saturday night, Hestia’s dream about floating on a ship with her deceased grandmother was interrupted when Selene shook her. She tried to ignore her cousin, but Selene kept shaking her. “Go away.”

  “I can’t go away. I’m covered in water.”

  Hestia bolted upright. “Your water broke?”

  “Is that what you call it?” Hestia had never seen Selene so pale. “I’m scared.”

  Hestia’s feet hit the chilly floor. “Get back in bed. Your time has come.”

  “My time.” A look of understanding crossed her features. “The baby will be here soon.”

  “I hope so. Let me get the doctor.” She made haste to change into her street clothes.

  Aunt Louisa entered. “I heard you girls stirring. What’s going on in here? It’s after midnight.”

  Selene let out a groan of pain.

  “I think her time has come.” Hestia’s voice betrayed her anxiousness.

  “Oh!” Aunt Louisa nodded. “I’ll get everything ready.”

  “I told Selene I’d notify the doctor.” Hestia made a move to retrieve her sweater.

  “The doctor? Oh, no, we don’t need him,” Aunt Louisa protested. “I’m delivering this baby.”

  “You?” Selene asked. “I don’t mean any disrespect, but you’re not a doctor. Or a midwife.”

  “I know, but I have assisted at births.”

  Selene let out another groan. “Hestia?”

  “I’ve never assisted in a birth.”

  Aunt Louisa wagged her finger at Selene. “I wouldn’t let her even if she had. She’s a delicate maiden, and she shall not be exposed to the rigors of childbirth.”

  “But I’ll never learn about medicine if I never help with anything,” Hestia wailed.

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you both, but Selene and I will be going it alone.”

  “No. Please. I want twilight sleep.” Selene regarded Hestia with wide eyes.

  “I don’t remember promising such a dangerous thing.” Aunt Louisa scowled. “Besides, the pain of childbirth is part of the natural process of new life. It will be over before you know it.”

  “At least your generation had chloroform.” Selene looked pale.

  “Chloroform has its dangers. I think you should have a natural delivery.”

  “I’m a modern woman, and I want modern medicine. Get the doctor so he can administer twilight sleep. If you don’t, I’ll never forgive you.”

  Aunt Louisa turned to Hestia. “Does your father use twilight sleep?”

  “Yes, but I’ve never seen what happens with it. The only thing I know is she’ll have to be tied to the bed.”

  “Tied to the bed?” Selene’s mouth dropped open.

  “It’s for your own safety. You might start thrashing around and hurt yourself while you’re under the influence of the medication.” Hestia tried to remember if they had enough twine to tie Selene.

  “Oh. Well, I want it anyway.”

  “Those suffragettes and their ideas,” Aunt Louisa muttered. “They’ve ruined the world. First they insist that women should get involved in the filthy business of voting, and now they want to take away the beauty of natural childbirth.”

  “I don’t care about voting.” Selene’s tone took on a sharp edge. “I care about twilight sleep. Get the doctor.”

  Aunt Louisa crossed her arms. “I’m having nothing of the sort. You’ll have your baby the natural way, just as my mother gave birth to me.”

  Selene clutched her midsection. “Please!”

  Hestia felt sorry for Selene, but there was no arguing with Aunt Louisa once she made up her mind. She rushed to Selene’s side and held her hand. “Oh, do be brave, dear one. All shall be well. I’ll pray for you.”

  “You go on and do that.” Aunt Louisa’s voice matched Selene’s in sharpness. “But try to get some rest, too. Lay down on my bed.”

  Not in the mood to lie down, Hestia went to the back stoop. At least since she could pray, she didn’t feel helpless. She hated to admit, even to herself, that part of her was glad her aunt had insisted she couldn’t help. Papa’s skill at practicing medicine made his profession seem, if not easy, at least calm. Listening to Selene’s screams rattled Hestia. She hated herself for her emotion.

  The Easter moon lit the sky enough so that she could see Miss Olive’s house. If the neighbor had been awake, she surely would have ventured over by now for a cup of flour.

  The whistle of a passing train seemed to sing its sympathy for Selene. The familiar noise comforted Hestia.

  She looked in the opposite direction at the Barringtons’. If only Booth could be with her to console her. The thought of her cousin lying in labor, experiencing such pain, without even the benefit of old-fashioned chloroform, vexed her. She wished Papa were here. He’d no doubt convince his sister of the error of not having
any mercy on her young charge. If Hestia didn’t know better, she’d think her aunt was deliberately punishing Selene for being wicked, by making her suffer without aid. But it was her aunt’s old-fashioned attitude and stubbornness about progress—Hestia’s new bob notwithstanding—that stood in the way of mercy.

  The hands on the clock seemed to move slowly. Hestia knew she needed to sleep if she hoped to look fresh for Easter services, but anticipation and anxiety kept her awake. Hestia stayed on the back stoop all night, unwilling to go inside and hear the full force of her cousin’s agony.

  Finally, as the sun dawned, Aunt Louisa stepped out onto the stoop. Hestia had grabbed a few winks of sleep as she sat upright in a wicker chair, but she felt as though she hadn’t shut her eyes in a month.

  Sweat beaded Aunt Louisa’s forehead. “The baby’s here.”

  Hestia felt suddenly awake. “How’s Selene?”

  “Glad it’s over.”

  “What is it? A boy or a girl?”

  “A girl. But it doesn’t matter. The baby isn’t ours.”

  A literal stab of pain shot through her heart. “I want to see her anyway.”

  “I don’t suppose I can keep you from seeing her, but don’t get attached.”

  Hestia went into the room she and Selene had shared these many months. “How are you, Selene?”

  She nodded. “Tired.”

  “Will you let me see the baby?”

  Selene didn’t look as though she wanted to give her up, but she did. “Aunt Louisa says I can’t hold her long. She didn’t want me to be with her at all. She’ll be sending a telegram to my cousin, and she’ll come here as fast as she can to get her.” A teardrop fell on Selene’s cheek.

  Holding the baby, Hestia gave her a little kiss on the forehead. She opened her eyes and yawned then shut them again. The blond-haired newborn resembled the Myatts. “You don’t want to give her up, do you?”

  Selene shook her head. Silent tears fell with full force. “I thought I wanted to, but I don’t.”

  Hestia spoke softly. “Let’s pray.”

  “I’d like that.” Selene bowed her head.

  “Heavenly Father, Selene has a big decision to make. Lord, is it Thy will for her to keep the baby? You know she has an offer of marriage from someone who loves her. Is this Thy will, Father? Please let us know. We all want what’s best for Selene, Artie, and most of all, the baby. In Jesus’ precious name, amen.”