Autumn Lady

by AnneMarie Dapp

  Mara was pensive for a moment, and then had an idea. “Why don’t we go down to the mercantile store, Donald’s always begging me to look at their dresses. Did you know that he actually made several of them by hand?”

  “Oh?” Betty smiled eyes widening, but I wouldn’t know where to start. Would you help me?”

  “I’d love to…and actually, I’m overdue for a new gown myself.” Mara looked out the window, noticing that the rain was letting up.

  “Why don’t we just go over now?”

  “Oh, could we?” She asked, bursting with excitement. The women grabbed their coats and went arm and arm down the street, their faces flushed in the cool autumn air. Donald was sitting by the register reading a book. He looked up as they entered the store.

  “Ladies, what a pleasure! What can I help you with today?”

  “Mara looked at Betty who seemed at a loss for words. “We’re here for your help, Donald. I know this is quite short notice, but we thought we might look at your dresses in the back?”

  His eyes grew wide, and he sighed. “I’d thought you’d never ask.” He offered them his arms and smiled. “Shall we, girls?”

  “We shall,” they giggled.

  They made their way to the modest boutique and they looked at an array of dresses. Donald studied them for a moment before going to the back rack. “What you ladies need are gowns that will flatter your figures and bring out your lovely eyes. Oh, yes,” he said to himself.

  After a few minutes of searching, he chose two gowns. They took turns trying them on in the back dressing room. Betty slipped on a dark green satin dress, which Mara helped cinch tightly around her delicate waist. She’d gasped when her friend turned around. She’d never noticed her shapely curves before or her long legs. Her body was normally hidden under layers of calico and homespun cotton.

  “Oh, Betty, you look so beautiful!”

  They walked out of the changing room, and Donald studied her carefully. He walked around her slowly with his measuring tape. “This looks fabulous on you, dear. It just needs to be taken in about half an inch at the waist. And believe me, that’s a wonderful problem to have,” he chuckled. “But just look at you! Such a lovely figure,” he sighed.

  Then it was Mara’s turn. He offered her a soft cornflower blue gown. It was crushed velvet, with a gold buttons and fringed lace. There was a small bustle in the back, and the ruffled layers cascaded down to the floor like ocean waves.

  When she opened the door, her friends looked at each other speechless. Donald came forward, holding his breath. “Dear lord, if this wasn’t the gown for you, then I can’t imagine what would be. Just look at the way it brings out your blue eyes! And I do believe…yes…it’s a perfect fit. I sewed these dresses myself. It’s almost as if I had you ladies in mind when I made them. There’s just a couple of more things you’ll need,” he said thoughtfully. He sorted through a collection of hair accessories until he found the perfect ones. He handed Mara a soft blue rose clip, and gave Betty a velvet green daisy. Then, he showed them several pairs of shoes, finding them perfect ones, which matched their dresses. They took their purchases to the counter, and paid at the register. Donald made sure to give them both a generous friends and family discount. He assured Betty that he’d have her dress altered by Saturday.

  After saying their goodbyes, they headed back to the house. The rain had started up again, so they rushed home quickly. The next few days were cold and damp, storms followed by more storms. Patrick was now able to get around by himself, and Mara stayed in her own bedroom at night. She slipped off to sleep with the sounds of rain striking her bedroom window. That night, she dreamed of a beautiful parlor, golden leaves dancing in the air, and soft lights mirrored within stained glass windows. She murmured softly in her sleep, a smile moving over her face as she whispered the words, Autumn Lady.

  The Palace Hotel

  Mara and Betty busied themselves preparing for the dance. They took turns helping each other get ready, cinching and buttoning their layers of silk and velvet. Betty’s hands shook as she worked her hair into a severe bun. Mara worried that if she stretched it any tighter her eyes would fall out of her head.

  Betty turned with a look of frustration, tears welling. “I’ve never been good at fixing myself up, I guess. My pa helped me when I was a little girl, but he didn’t know what he was doing,” she sighed. “Any suggestions?”

  Mara led her to the vanity and had her sit down on the velvet seat. She studied her for a moment before going to her collection of combs and brushes.

  “May I?”

  Betty nodded, a helpless look in her eyes. Mara busied herself undoing the taut bun. Soft waves fell down her back and shoulders. She stared in stunned disbelief.

  “Your hair is absolutely gorgeous! I had no idea how long it was. It’s always pulled back so proper.”

  A smile lit up her face as she turned her friend away from the mirror. She lifted a silver brush in the air and began combing through loose strands, the tawny highlights glistening in the fading light. They pooled around her shoulders like soft ocean waves. Satisfied, she studied her face with interest.

  “I have a little powder and rouge if you’d like to try it?”

  Betty nodded, a hint of excitement in her eyes, and then, to Mara’s amazement, she reached for her glasses, folded them, and placed them on the vanity. Mara took a deep breath. It was the first time she’d ever seen Betty without them. Her eyes were like two emeralds, almost feline.

  “Can you see without them?”

  “Yes, I use them mostly for reading, but I’m always misplacing them, so I just keep them on all the time.” She sighed.

  Mara smiled. She sorted through her powder and rouge collection, selecting soft shades to compliment her friend’s complexion. When she was finished, she turned Betty to face the mirror.

  “Is that really me?” she gasped.

  “Yes. And you’re absolutely gorgeous!”

  “Oh, Mara!” She stood, wrapping her arms around her best friend. The ladies finished with their hair accessories, and helped themselves to a crystal decanter, applying drops of floral perfume to their necks and wrists. They smiled at one another and made their way downstairs.

  Joshua and Patrick were waiting on the sofa, corsages in hand. They looked up and their jaws dropped. They stood as the women entered. Joshua walked over to Betty, reaching for her hair. His hand grazed the soft waves, the strands falling between his fingers. She smiled as his eyes traveled over her face, gazing into her emerald eyes. He suddenly found himself leaning in for a kiss. His mouth brushed her lips, as he traced his fingers across her cheek.

  Mara smiled at Patrick. He reached for her hands, his dark eyes smoldering in the fading light. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he whispered. He looked at the corsage he was holding, delicate violets with small white roses.

  “May I?”

  Mara nodded happily. He reached down, taking her hand, and gently placed the flowers around her wrist. Donald opened the door to let the women pass, eyeing their dresses with satisfaction. Mara looked up and whispered, “Thank you.” He smiled softly and nodded.

  Patrick and Joshua escorted their dates outside. Sarah Levy and Sheriff Carpenter followed close behind. The sheriff had been coming by the house quite a bit since his Sunday visit. He’d eventually summed up the courage to ask Sarah to accompany him to the dance. She’d accepted the invitation with pleasure. Donald and Jeremiah followed, closing the door behind them. They took separate carriages, a cool breeze following them into the fading light.

  The Palace Hotel was a beautiful building—a spacious ballroom with overhanging chandeliers, dramatic marble statues and an impressive art collection. Landscape scenes filled the opaque walls. A skylight opened to reveal a blanket of stars. They appeared to dance across the inky darkness, a harvest moon lighting their way. An orchestra played in the background—a collection of cellos, violins, and wind instruments were on display. The musici
ans wore identical black suits, their faces masked in concentration as they synchronized with perfect harmony.

  Mrs. Levy and her housemates mingled for the first hour, enjoying appetizers and glasses of champagne. Mara and Betty admired the well-dressed ladies showing off the latest fashions from Europe, cascading layers of satin held up by bustles and underskirts. The women glided through the crowds, their pleated gowns rustling softly with every step. Corsets bound in whalebone and leather cinched many of the women tightly. Their layers restrained them in breathless rigidity.

  The latest hairstyles demanded dramatic curls, bangs that swept over the forehead, capped with dainty bonnets. Wigs were common, as extensions were added to one’s natural hair. Many of the ladies wore velvet collars around their necks, the latest fashion trend out of Europe. They chatted among themselves, their gentle laughter ringing out like little bells, fanning themselves, as they mingled.

  The mayor made his way over to Mara and her friends. A middle-age woman with a snowy puff of white hair followed him. She looked intently at the group, taking them in with an appraising air. She held their gazes, shaking hands firmly as they were introduced. Mayor Selby offered warm greetings and introduced them to Elizabeth Cady Stanton. He made sure to express his admiration for his friend, explaining how she was a leader in The Women’s Suffrage Movement, and actively seeking a woman’s right to vote. She took Mara aside to speak to her privately.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss McClain. I was so excited to hear how a young woman had successfully opened a gallery in town. I imagine it’s been quite challenging in this male dominated city,” she said, her mouth pulling down in a grimace.

  Mara smiled, meeting her direct gaze. “It’s been quite the adventure, but both men and women have helped me along the way. So, I count myself lucky.”

  Mrs. Stanton put her hands together. “I’ve been traveling quite a bit this past year, often with my friend Susan B. Anthony. We’ve been trying to spread the word…to plant seeds of change in the minds of those that seek justice. We want a future that will allow women the opportunity to vote. For far too long our voices have been silenced, our ideas disregarded. I hope you’ll join us in making this happen.”

  A glimmer of interest surfaced in her eyes. “I’d be happy to hear more about your movement. It’s about time we were allowed the legal right to voice our opinion in politics.”

  The older woman nodded in agreement. She was quite taken with Mara and wanted her to be caught up on all of the latest news regarding the suffrage movement. She explained how she’d been an active member of the abolitionists as well. She was very proud of her involvement, and more than happy to see the end of slavery, but things changed dramatically after the Emancipation Proclamation. Many of the group’s leaders had lost interest in the fight for women’s rights. Mara listened in fascination. Mrs. Stanton was a force to be reckoned with, a tornado of energy and passion. She was impressed by her sharp intellect, her approach being at once both engaging and commanding. Her eyes would darken, when she spoke of the oppression of women, and then shine passionately as she explained the goals of the suffrage movement. She wanted a world where women could speak freely about their opinions, even to hold office in the political arena. She handed Mara a pamphlet detailing the movement. After a lengthy discussion, Mrs. Stanton said her goodbyes and began making her way around the room, preaching her dreams of equality and a better tomorrow.

  There were many people that sought out Mara’s audience that evening, a good number of which showed an interest in her gallery. Others simply admired her attractive features and graceful charms. As such, she was embraced by San Francisco’s high society and its many elite members, politicians and businessmen alike. Many fashionably dressed women expressed an appreciation for her gown. Mara always directed them back over to Donald, explaining his talents. He soon had a crowd of ladies fussing over him. He engaged all of them with a dramatic flair and exuberance. His admirers flocked around, inquiring if he might design some of their dresses. He assured them that he could definitely help with their fashion needs, inviting them to visit his boutique. They accepted happily, and he continued keeping court with his entourage.

  Patrick was also approached during the evening. Many wanted to congratulate him on winning the fight, and they were all curious about his future plans. Several women stole glances his way, admiring his handsome features and remarking on his many bruises. His injuries only made him appear more exotic and dangerous—a winning combination for those who sought an escape from the constraints of privilege.

  He met a few businessmen that were curious about his interest in real estate, and the desire to build new homes in Pacific Heights. One man, Steven Jacobson, had earned quite a bit of money betting on Patrick’s fight. He explained that he would enjoy speaking to him further regarding his new business venture. They shook hands and planned to meet up later in the week.

  In the corner of the room stood a man in black. His eyes followed Patrick as he mingled. He wrung his hands absently, making his way over to the group of men discussing the fight. He listened, but did not contribute. The other men appeared not to notice, just one more well-to-do businessman interested in boxing. The gentleman took turns congratulating Patrick, except for the pale stranger. He simply stared, a slight tremor flickering over his right eye. He wiped at it absently, slowly backing away from the crowd, and then he was gone.

  Mara and Patrick eventually found one another. The orchestra was playing the Blue Danube waltz and dancers were making their way out to the ballroom floor. The couples spun around in graceful circles, keeping in time with the music. Patrick escorted Mara into the sea of silk and lace. He took her in his arms, gracefully leading her around the marble floor. She took a deep breath, amazed by his skillful dancing. She noticed that he occasionally grimaced, not completely healed, though he smiled, doing his best to please her.

  Joshua and Betty soon joined them. They gazed intently into one another’s eyes, lost and in love. Then, Sheriff Carpenter and Sarah Levy joined the crowd. They twirled about the ballroom, under the vast stars shining above the skylight. Donald and Jeremiah were helping themselves to crystal flutes of champagne, nodding happily as they watched them dance.

  Patrick was light on his feet, guiding Mara across the dance floor, her periwinkle dress cascading around her like sails on the ocean. As the music drew to an end, Patrick kissed her cheek, lowering himself gingerly to the floor. When he reached for her hand, her eyes widened, and the entire room fell silent.

  “Mara, you’re truly my heart and soul. I can’t imagine my life without you, and I feel so very blessed that I’ve found you. You’re the most amazing woman—passionate, loving, and so breathtakingly gorgeous. I live for your smile…your lovely blue eyes. I want to give you a beautiful life, one full of magic and my devotion. I love yah, little rose.

  “So, Miss Mara Elizabeth McClain, would you do me the honor of being my wife?” He held out a velvet box; inside was a rosette diamond ring, surrounded by crystal blue sapphires. The brilliant gems sparkled under the evening sky. Mara took a deep breath, looking down with tears in her eyes. Her lips parted, and she cried, “Oh yes, Mr. Deane, yes!”

  Patrick placed the ring on her finger, swept her up in his arms, kissing her softly in the candlelight. The room exploded with applause. Their friends rushed over to congratulate them, offering up hugs and kisses. The night was truly magical, one they would look back on for years to come, dreaming of the night they twirled beneath the stars.

  Donald Becker

  The morning of their wedding was bright with sunshine. Betty and Sarah busied themselves getting the bride ready. The gown was white silk with cascading layers and embroidered roses throughout. The day after their engagement announcement, Donald had invited Mara to the store. He took her by the hand and brought her upstairs to show off his new art studio and sewing room. He seemed a little nervous, his eyes darting around the room. Mara reached for his arm and asked, “Is everyt
hing all right?”

  He looked into her eyes, exhaling. “I wanted to give you a wedding present, if you’re interested,” he said, wringing his hands and fidgeting. “Would you consider…perhaps having your dress designed by me,” he whispered.

  Mara’s eyes flashed with excitement as she took his hand in hers, squeezing tightly.

  “Oh, Donald, yes. It’d be an honor!”

  He hugged her and grinned. “I was hoping you would say that!”

  He led her to the back of the room and showed her the patterns he’d been considering. She studied them, noting the various styles and materials. Together, they chose a design, which would be form fitting at the bodice with a bib of needle lace cinched tightly around the waist, allowing for cascading layers. A long train of satin would be beaded with rows of delicate white roses. Donald was quiet as Mara explained her vision of the perfect wedding dress. His eyes glimmered with purpose while he took note of every detail.

  * * * *

  He worked on the gown incessantly all the way up to the day of the wedding, putting his heart and soul into every stitch. When he presented it to her and her eyes immediately filled with tears. She kissed his cheek, and he blushed and looked down at the floor. Betty and Sarah held their breath as they studied the beautiful craftsmanship. It was a dress suitable for a princess. They followed her into her bedroom and went to work helping her get ready. Mara’s hands were shaking as the hour drew closer. When they’d finished, she turned to the window and looked out onto the street. Almost time for church. She exhaled and walked toward the vanity, to look at her reflection. Her friends stood by her side. Sarah went to the back of the room, retrieving a long lace veil.

  “Mara, you’re like my own daughter. I’d like to present this veil to you as something borrowed,” she said.