Arrangements

by Mercedes King

The Kennedy Chronicles:

  Arrangements

  By Mercedes King

  Copyright 2013 By Mercedes King

  Summer 1953

  Janet resisted dousing herself with another spray of her lavender-scented perfume, since she worried that too much might encourage subtle or tawdry advances from that womanizer Joe Kennedy. But she needed to temper herself. Tonight’s dinner had to go smoothly; her daughter’s future depended on it. As always Janet was committed to doing her duty where Jacqueline was concerned--even if it meant sharing the dinner table with the likes of Joe Kennedy.

  Now that Jacqueline and Senator Kennedy were engaged, arrangements had to be made for their September wedding--provided that the senator didn’t lose interest in his bride-to-be by the time he returned from his vacation in late August.

  Apart from Jack’s good looks and his father’s fortune, though, Janet couldn’t say what her daughter saw in the man. He talked incessantly, could hardly sit still and had no refined manners. Worse, his randy reputation rivaled his father’s, at least, that’s what Janet had been told.

  “What do you think, dear? Will this jacket do?” Hughdie asked as he held the sides open.

  Janet clasped on her second earring before she turned from her bureau. Adorned in a white Dior suit and gleaming wingtips, Hugh D. Auchincloss--Hughdie--still lacked flair. Janet’s shoulders sagged, momentarily, as she suddenly, desperately wished her husband had charisma that matched Joe Kennedy’s.

  Although kind and often witty, Hughdie wasn’t one to be labeled as strikingly handsome; he was average at best, forgettable even. But whatever Hughdie lacked in appearance, he made up for in pedigree: a Yale and Columbia Law graduate, he had founded a brokerage firm in Washington, worked for the U.S. Navy during both world wars, and was heir to the Standard Oil fortune. His was a reputation built on hard work, respectability, and Old Money--which Janet relished, found attractive even.

  Where one came from and who one was related to meant everything, as far as Janet was concerned. Equally important was one’s social circles, and most critical was whether or not one’s family belonged to the Social Register, a directory of prominent, elite pillars of polite society. The Kennedys were not included. On a social level, Janet viewed the Kennedys as mere immigrants. She couldn’t deny that their status and wealth had escalated over the years, but to her, they weren’t a well-rooted dynasty--they weren’t the same caliber as Henry Cabot Lodge, Jr. and family.

  Janet sniggered inwardly, knowing it would be blasphemous at the dinner table, mentioning Senator Kennedy’s Republican opponent. But her glee was short-lived, considering JFK had stunned the political arena and won the Senate seat from Lodge.

  “Yes,” Janet said to Hughdie. She sighed as she straightened his tie.

  Hughdie held her hands when she finished.

  “Relax, my dear,” he said. “Tonight will be fine. This is a match you’ve always dreamed of for

  Jackie. Once she’s married, both of your daughters will be settled and in good hands.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Janet said unconvincingly, though Hughdie had a point. Within months, she’d have both her daughters married to men with handsome fortunes. Her younger daughter, Lee, had married Michael Canfield, a publishing executive at Harper & Brothers, hastily, but Janet approved. Above all, she’d raised her daughters on the mantra, Marry Well.

  When it came to Jacqueline, though, Janet worried. She’d never admit it, but she’d burdened Jacqueline with high expectations ever since she was young--and ever since her marriage to the girls’ father had begun deteriorating. As she tried to envision Jacqueline in the role of political wife, a shudder raced through her. Politicians were weasels. They made a living talking out of both sides of their mouth. Janet feared for her daughter. What kind of life awaited her, attached to a liar--who was also known for his womanizing? Was such a marriage merely the recreation of the farce between Janet and her ex-husband, Black Jack Bouvier? Could Janet let that happen to her daughter?

  “We haven’t much time,” Janet said, snapping from her prickling doubts.  

  With the help of two servants, Janet expelled her nervous energy by looking over every detail. She pressed the dinner napkins with her hand, made sure the flatware was placed and lined up appropriately, adjusted the flower arrangements, and reminded the cook--for the fifth time--that the beef wellington could not be dry. Meanwhile, Hughdie scanned the evening’s newspaper.

  Joe and Rose Kennedy arrived precisely at six. Joe’s boisterous greeting filled the foyer; Janet forced herself not to appear unnerved. To Hughdie’s delight, Joe handed him a box of Cuban cigars and referred to them as their after dinner splurge with a wink. A hint of nausea struck Janet as the cigars reminded her of Black Jack: Cuba became Black Jack’s adulterous playground in the later years of their marriage.

  Janet breathed deep, fixed her attention on Rose.

  “It’s lovely to see you again, Mrs. Kennedy,” Janet said.

  “You also, Mrs. Auchincloss.”

  Janet waited a beat, and after Rose made a point of saying nothing, Janet searched for something to say.

  “Your dress is lovely.” Janet gritted her teeth a moment, hating that she’d already said lovely.

  “Who’s the designer?”

  “I wouldn’t have a clue. I picked it up at J. C. Penny’s a few years ago.”

  Joe laughed. “That’s my Rosie. She’s nothing if not practical. Sure makes my wallet happy, am I right, Hughdie?” He elbowed Hughdie and laughed again before Hughdie could remark.

  Janet forced a smile. Whether Joe was poking fun at her dress or making a genuine attempt to make his wife feel better about her cheap frock, Janet didn’t know. She regretted not slipping a Librium beforehand.

  As they migrated into the dining room and settled into their seats, Joe and Hughdie talked about Joe’s new Buick and the Red Sox’s season thus far. Rose smiled cordially whenever Janet looked her way. But Janet glimpsed the subtle scowl on Rose’s face. What, Janet wondered, explained her discontent? Was she embarrassed by Joe, or did she, perhaps, consider the Auchinclosses--Jacqueline--unworthy of the Kennedy name? The audacity! Janet thought.

  As the evening progressed, Janet took a cue from Rose and let the men dominate the conversation. It proved difficult for Janet, who prided herself on her hosting abilities. However, Joe and Hughdie didn’t strain for discussion. When Joe commented on the grandeur of Hammersmith Farm, Hughdie was all to pleased to share the history of his family’s estate. The men transitioned into speaking about their work and traded compliments regarding the other’s successes. But once Joe praised the beauty of the heirloom tablecloth and proclaimed that the evening’s clam chowder was the finest he’d ever tasted, Janet suspected, based on such lavish flattery, that Joe intended to tyrannize the evening.

  “Well, now,” Joe said, “I suppose we should get to the business of this wedding.”

  Inwardly, Janet cringed at his use of the term business.

  “And I must say, Janet, what a fine daughter you’ve raised. She’s quite a girl--the right girl, in fact, for our Jack.”

  “Thank you.” Janet beamed; it was a moment she’d been waiting for. “We are very proud of Jacqueline, and we know she’ll make an excellent wife.”

  “Indeed,” Joe said. “And I don’t mind saying what an asset she’ll be to Jack’s career. A woman with her poise and talents is impossible to find. Believe me, I’ve searched high and low.” He roared with laughter.

  “She is an exceptional artist, especially with watercolors,” Janet said.

  Joe paused. “I meant her talent for languages. Why, she speaks circles around Jack’s Spanish, and I bet she could pass for a native with her Italian.”

&nbs
p; “Oh.” Janet glanced at Hughdie.

  “Now, I will be honest, folks,” Joe said. “We do have a few concerns.”

  “About Jacqueline?” Janet couldn’t hide her surprise.

  “She seems so. . .delicate,” Rose said. Her search for the right word wasn’t lost on Janet. Of course, Janet knew how rambunctious the Kennedy clan was; Jacqueline had broken her ankle, attempting to join in their games.

  “I never stressed athletics with Jacqueline,” Janet said, “but she is a decorated horsewoman.” With a proud smile she added, “Jacqueline has been winning championships and competitions since she was eleven.”

  Her pride was lost on the Kennedys.

  “Ah,” Joe said.

  Janet detected the insincerity in his voice and noted his lack of a genuine compliment. She felt annoyed. What accomplishments did Joe Kennedy have to brag about? He’d created a fortune from bootlegging and through shady deals with movie studios, according to rumors. Perhaps Janet didn’t understand it all, but in her eyes, he was a hustler--a criminal--who relied on questionable business practices.

  “We just want to be absolutely sure she’s ideal for Jack,” Rose said.