by Faye Sonja
“What are we doing?” Jeremy asked as he got up.
Florence grabbed a pair of scissors and smiled. Her eyes glowed as she looked at them. They were so shiny and were about to work wonders. She looked back at the room; everyone was staring at her. Their eyes all looked at her with caution, but that didn’t put one dent in her mood. “We’re going to use everyone’s design.”
Ben, who’d taken a few steps back from her said, “What?”
Florence’s smile grew. “We’re going to fit everyone’s design into one large master design. We’ll change the colors and make everything blend, but we’re no longer going with one design. We’re going to use them all; every last one.”
Ben smiled, walked up to her, and took the scissors. “Alright, but I’ll do the cutting.”
Florence frowned, but smiled again. “Oh, alright.”
Ben pulled out a chair. “Take a seat and direct everyone else.”
Sitting down sounded good to Florence. She took a seat in the middle of the room and everyone began to pull their design from the board. Then, with Florence’s direction, everyone brought their design back, one by one, piece by piece. There was tons of cutting and a lot was thrown out. People were mean and threats were made all the way up until Florence had her final masterpiece.
Hours later, the sun was going down. They were all tired and anxiously waiting for Florence’s approval.
The room was silent.
Florence said, “That’s it.”
Ben’s footsteps sounded loudly through the room as he made his way to Florence’s side. He placed a hand on her shoulder and then said, “You’re a genius.” Then, Ben began to clap. Slowly, others began to clap as well. The room’s applause grew louder, until someone shouted, “Alright, Florence!” Then the room thundered and Florence found herself crying. She got up and went to Estephanie. She put an arm around her. “Thank this girl! It was her idea.”
Estephanie began to shake her head, but everyone ignored her as shouts of encouragement and more applause came her way. Florence made one more announcement. “And now, I thank all of you for your designs, because without you, none of this would have been possible.” The room applauded for itself as Florence turned back to the board.
This project was like her baby, and that thought struck another chord. Florence hadn’t just come up with the Haines’ design for the fair, Florence had just thought of her own design for the art contest.
Ben held up his hands and the room grew quiet. “I’m glad that we’ve finally got our theme, but this is not the end, but the beginning. Using this design template, let’s all get to work!”
Everyone groaned; including Florence. She was hungry. Ben held up his hands again, and the room grew silent. He began to speak. “But, to congratulate everyone on their hard work, we shall first feast!”
As if on cue, waiters came into the design room; rolling trays of things that smelled much too wonderful for words. The tags on their white shirts read ‘The Howard Hotel’.
Everyone broke out into happy laughter and conversation as they ate. Florence ate quickly and then left the room to get some air. The rest of the Haines building was empty, but the writers had kept the lights on. Florence was making her way towards the door and to the outhouse when Jeremy came up to her. “I should apologize.”
Florence shook her head. “We were all tired.”
Jeremy sighed. “No, I was being mean and wanted to hurt your feelings.”
“Why?”
“Because, I was jealous of you.”
“Why?”
“Because, I thought that Ben had only chosen you because you’re having his baby. I didn’t think that you’d actually come up with a better design than me, but you did.” He sighed. “You’re the better designer, Florence. So, I’m sorry.”
Florence’s eyes went wide. “You think Ben’s the father?”
“Of course. Everyone’s talking about it. Everyone in town has seen you eating with him at the hotel. Everyone knows he lives there too. People saw you go up to his room afterwards.”
Florence felt like she’d just been kicked in the gut. “What? I’ve never been in Ben’s hotel room,” she hissed. “That’s a lie.”
Jeremy gave Florence a dull look. “Florence,” he gestured at her stomach. “There’s no need to lie about it. The evidence is there.” Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “I just can’t believe that Ben hasn’t married you yet. It’s wrong to make you raise that kid by yourself. No real man would leave you stranded like this.”
Florence shook her head. She grabbed Jeremy’s shoulder. “But the baby isn’t Ben’s, Jeremy. It’s Eddie’s.”
Jeremy gave a laugh, which had nothing to do with humor. “Is that what Ben is telling you to tell people?”
“No, Jeremy. It’s the truth.”
“Eddie left months ago, Florence. He can’t possibly be the father.”
Florence sighed. She didn’t like that she had to explain herself to anyone, but this was exactly what she’d wanted to avoid. Florence hadn’t wanted people to think poorly of Ben, but now they were. She had to stop this ugly rumor. “I’m eight months pregnant.”
Jeremy looked at her stomach. “No way. You’re five at the most. Your stomach is way too small to be that far along.”
Florence crossed her arms. “I’m the pregnant one. I think I would know how pregnant I am.”
Jeremy placed his hands on her arms. “Florence, don’t let another man take advantage of you like this. You need to tell people the truth. You can’t let him get away with this just because he’s a Manning.” Jeremy drew his brows together. “He may dress up better than Eddie did, but he’s still a snake underneath.”
Florence felt faint. Ben appeared at her side. His impressive statue loomed over them both. His dark blue eyes were full of concern as he looked at Florence. “Are you alright?”
“Like you care,” Jeremy whispered.
“What?” Ben asked.
Jeremy turned and left, throwing a ‘Never mind’ hand over his shoulder.
Ben looked at Florence. “What’s his issue?”
Florence leaned against the wall behind him. “You, apparently.”
“What did I do?”
“Get me pregnant.”
“What?”
“That’s what people are saying. It’s the only reason you hired me for the job. I’m not talented. I’m just the mother of your child.”
“That’s not true. It’s not even my baby.”
“I know that. You know that. But everyone else believes differently.”
Ben leaned against the wall; facing her. He crossed his arms. His eyes held hers. “Well, forget everyone else. The only person we have to answer to is God.”
“But you shouldn’t have to answer for me, Ben. This baby has nothing to do with you.”
“Is that what you truly want?”
No, but— “It’s what’s best.”
Ben shook his head. “No, I don’t agree.”
“Why?”
“Because, you need me.”
“No, I mean, why me? Why do you want to marry me so badly?”
“I just told you.”
Florence narrowed her eyes. “Because, I need you?”
“Yes.”
Florence shook her head. “So, it’s that easy for you? I need you, so you agree to marry me? That’s how it works?”
Ben shrugged his free shoulder. “Pretty much.”
“I don’t understand that.”
“What don’t you understand?”
“You.”
“What’s there not to understand?”
“Why me?”
“Why not you?”
Florence let out a low, but frustrated shriek. “You’re so annoying.” She looked at him. “You’re not answering my question.”
“I’m sorry.” He came off the wall to stand directly in front of her. “Ask me again,”
“Why help me and not some other woman? Why keep asking me when I’ve alr
eady told you no.”
Ben frowned. “I don’t know.”
Florence mirrored his expression. “How do you not know? You’re you. You’re supposed to know.”
Ben sighed. “Yes, I believe you’ve mentioned this before.”
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
Ben laughed. “What?”
Florence put her hands on her hips and looked around the room; making sure no one was listening. She leaned forwards and whispered. “I’m trying to help you figure this out. So, I’ll ask again. Do you think I’m pretty?”
Ben’s eyes went wayward as he thought. When he was ready to answer, he was looking at Florence again. “No.”
“No?”
“You’re so much more than ‘pretty’. Pretty is for little girl’s dresses and small flowers. Your beauty, Florence, cannot be expressed with any words of Webster diction.”
Florence closed her eyes. “You know, my life was a lot easier before you came along.”
“Why is that?”
Florence opened her eyes. “Because, you make me want things I can’t have.”
“Like what?”
“Your love.”
Ben looked down at his shoes. “That’s very profound, Florence.”
Florence cupped Ben’s face and forced him to look at her. She didn’t speak until she started seeing blue. “I want you to love me, Ben. I need you to love me. I can’t marry you unless you love me, because I refuse to be stuck in a marriage where love only flows one way.”
“One way?”
“I love you.”
Ben’s jaw hardened underneath her hands. His nostrils flared. He closed his eyes. “Florence—”
“No.”
Ben opened his eyes.
“I won’t marry you if you don't love me. If you don’t love me, then the answer is ‘no’ and will remain ‘no’ until that changes.” She sighed. “So, until then. Do Not Ask Me To Marry You Again! Okay?” Florence dropped her hands and her eyes. “Now, let’s go join the party and then get back to work.” She rushed from the room before Ben could work up the nerve to stop her. Florence had stood her ground with him. She’d never done that before. It felt good and awful at the same time. She was sick of being bullied and pushed around. This time, Florence would make sure that her partner was willing to give just as much as she was willing to give. She would no longer live her life the way her mother had; allowing the need for love to drive her thoughts. Florence had love. She had friends, God, and now, the respect of her colleagues. All of these things were good enough for her. The future was looking up for Florence, and for once, she wouldn’t need a man’s stamp of approval.
* * *
8
Chapter EIGHT
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“I can’t marry you, Benjamin. I don’t
like being alone, but I want to be
with someone who will love me.”
The flyers for the Haines, Kansas business exhibit went up and out all over Kansas and it’s neighboring states. The fair would start in a few days, but everyone with a booth to set up had already arrived to the fairgrounds located in Hutchinson, Kansas.
The land around Hutchinson had become the official Kansas State fairgrounds in 1901. Ben walked the rather empty field, but could already picture the crowds. Hundreds of thousands of people were scheduled to arrive in the coming days starting tomorrow. The expected profit was also in the hundreds of thousands. Ben was hoping that a portion of that money would be going home with the people of Haines.
Howard approached Ben with open arms. The man was wearing an off white suit that had managed to repel the dust that was flying around. His eyes gleamed. “Do you see these booths? The design is amazing.” The man gave Ben a jubilant hug. “I knew you were the man for the task.” Howard took a step back.
Ben smiled down at the man. “The design was Florence and her team’s idea.”
“Sure it was. Either way, that’s not what I’m telling the business partners.”
Ben’s face fell. “What do you mean?”
Howard narrowed his eyes. “You can’t really expect me to give credit to a harlot, do you?”
A heat wave crawled up Ben’s back. “Harlot?”
Howard put his hands in his pockets and sighed. His frown was still in place when he said, “The girl is obviously pregnant. Is the child yours?”
Ben crossed his arms. “I don’t understand what that has to do with her work performance.”
“Makes no difference. I’ve been telling everyone that it wasn’t yours anyway. Florence’s mother was known to sleep around, and I heard that the daughter wasn’t much different.”
“Florence isn’t like that.”
“She’s pregnant and she’s not married.” Howard leaned closer. “Now, I’m not one to care too much about whatever those Bible thumpers are passing around. But if I put her name on this project, I could lose business. You understand?”
Ben narrowed his eyes. “Then after this project, our business is done.”
Howard shook his head. “You’re not thinking clearly, Ben. You had a dream for this marketing branch, a vision. Don’t let the sways of a woman stop you.” Howard smiled. “I never did and look at me.”
Ben did look at Howard. He’d never seen the man wear the same suit twice, but the man always had a ruby pendent in his tie and diamond rings around his fingers. His hotel was a masterpiece and the Howard name had reach, and that reach was much further than small town Kansas. Howard, in essence, was where Ben was trying to get. Ben had dreams of grandeur, but looking at Howard made Ben sad. At what stage in Howard’s life had he chosen money over morals? Florence had slaved over the designs for Haines business, and now he would simply ignore her existence. It was unacceptable.
Ben held out his hand. “Once you pay me, our business will be done.”
Howard looked at Ben’s hand. “Do you know who you’re talking to, boy?” Howard’s eyes came back up. A white brow lifted on his face. “I can be a hindrance just as easily as I’ve been a help. No business in town will come to you for marketing advice.”
Ben kept his hand out. “Thanks for the help, Howard, but this is where we part ways.”
Howard stared Ben in the eyes and he shook his hand. “Hope that girl is worth it.”
“Oh, she is, Howard.” Ben’s hand tightened around the other man’s. “I’ve just never been in the business of selling my soul.”
Howard snatched his hand back as if he’d been stung. The older man straightened his suit and then departed.
Florence came from around a truck that was parked in the middle of the dirt road. She was carrying a covered up canvas that looked twice her size. Someone should have been helping her. Ben rushed over. “Wait.”
Florence looked up at him, but didn’t stop. She was wearing a paneled green dress. The skirt started below the hip; which was the style, but also emphasized just how big she’d gotten. Her face had gained a little weight as well, but Ben still thought her the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Thoughts of his conversation with Howard faded with every step. Ben stopped in front of her and snatched the canvas from her hands. “Give me that, woman. What is the matter with you? You shouldn’t be lifting things.”
Florence held her hands together. “I can do it myself.”
“You should have asked me, or someone from marketing for help.”
“I did.”
Ben narrowed his eyes. “No one helped you?”
Florence shrugged and swallowed. “They were all too busy.”
Ben sighed to cool his anger. “That isn’t right.”
Florence shrugged again. “It’s alright. This is the way my mother was treated when I was younger. I thought people had grown to like me more as I grew up, but I was wrong.”
Ben frowned. “I hate that you’re going through this.”
Florence
smiled. “That’s alright.” She started to walk in the direction of one of the actual buildings at the fairgrounds. Ben followed. “What were you and Mr. Howard discussing?”
Ben’s face went blank. “Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Probably not.”
They made it into the building, which was actually the art building. There were other people with canvasses milling about; picking spots for their portraits. The winner of the contest would be receiving $5. Ben asked, “What did you paint?”
Florence looked over at him. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
A man wandered over. “Name?”
“Florence Tilson.”
The man pointed Florence in the right direction and then left. Ben kept his hold on the canvas until they came to an empty wall. Florence said, “Put it here.”
Ben began to take the cover off the canvas, but Florence stopped him with her hand on his. She smiled. “Hang it with the cover on.”
Ben frowned, but did as she asked. They took a step back and stared at the brown covering as though it were the Mona Lisa. Ben looked over at Florence, who looked to be at peace. Ben asked, “What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know. Just life, I guess.”
“And what about life has you intrigued.”
“You, for one.”
“Me?”
Florence nodded.
“How do you I intrigue you?”
Florence shook her head, but never looked over at him. Her eyes were transfixed on the covered painting. “Eddie tells me he loves me and then leaves. You tell me you don’t love me, but won’t leave. Maybe I’m doing something wrong.”
Ben didn’t know how to reply to that without saying something stupid, or hurting her feelings. He chuckled. Since when had he cared about feelings over the truth? Maybe he was growing tenderhearted. Ben with a tender heart? Impossible.
“Ben?” She was looking at him.
“Hmm?”
“What are you thinking over there?”
Ben thought about that for a moment. He settled for the truth. “I was just thinking about how our friendship has seemed to make me go soft.”