“What was your favorite thing she cooked?” I asked, while thinking the ham I was eating was the most delicious food I’d ever eaten.
“I probably liked her gravy the best. I have tried many times to do it her way, but it never turns out as good.”
“Oh, I bet you it’s great,” Father assured. “How about we try it out tomorrow night? Remington and I will go to the market in the morning and get all the ingredients.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that sir, I can go.”
“Nonsense. We love visiting the market, don’t we, my girl?” Father smiled at me.
“We do,” I agreed. “I love seeing all the colorful fabrics and goods from around the world, and Father likes talking to everyone he sees.”
They both laughed at my comment.
While Father and I carried on, enjoying the maid’s cheerful company, my mother came in the door. She glared at my father with a look of sheer hatred and stomped up the stairs.
Father lowered his face into his hand. “Good heavens,” he mumbled, and then looked at the maid. “After cleaning this mess, can you get a bath ready for Remington? I just remembered that I left something at my office.”
Dinah went off to fill the tub, and Father grabbed his coat and walked out of the front door, slamming it behind him. In the silence that followed, I heard my mother pacing the floor above. Wondering why everyone was so upset, I wandered towards the stairs where I heard the bird cage door squeak open. “Damn him, Sky,” she growled. “He was here. In town! If he loved me like he says he does in these soul haunting letters, then he would have come to rescue me while he was here.”
Who in the world was she talking about? And what did she need to be rescued from? Just as I began to wonder if this man who claimed to love her was the same one she wrote letters to and then burned, Dinah called me. “Your bath is ready, Miss Remington.”
Slipping into the warm bath, I ignored Dinah the same way my mother always did, but as she began washing my hair, I wished the soap would wash away the pain in my heart.
X
After my mother received that letter from the mysterious man who claimed to love her, she hid away in her study, letting the months pass like the breeze, speaking to no one but her bird. I listened to her talking to Sky as I lay in bed at night—his feathers flapping around as he flew free from perch to perch—and I became terribly jealous of their friendship. I heard her crying as she wrote letter after letter in the evenings, only to burn them, causing my father to bark at her like a mean old dog. And I resented that man she was writing to, for as far as I could see it was he who was tearing our family apart.
Mother became so sick and distant that I worried about her daily, and it hurt my heart to see my father being so cruel to her as she wept. But with me he remained the kind and caring father I had always adored. Telling me that I needed to keep my mind light, he took me to work with him every day while she hid away.
Carrying on as he did—working the days away with a smile on his handsome face and relaxing in the evenings with Dinah to keep him company—no one outside our walls would ever have guessed that he had been fighting with his crazed wife day after day. And he was sure to remind me never to tell. She isn’t feeling well, Remington. Give her time and let it be. Let us pray that she regains her strength, but keep her woes between us. The world need not know how she suffers. He made it sound and look so easy to move on with life, but I missed my mother dearly. She was only one room down the hall, yet she seemed to be a world away, and my prayers for her wellness were the greatest thoughts in my mind.
Finally, my prayers were answered.
It was one of those cold winter days that deceived you from the window view, sunny and bright to the eye, but chilling to the bone right outside the door. Father and I were seated at the table for breakfast, drinking warm milk and talking about the tricky ol’ weather when Mother came down the stairs.
Wearing a lovely yellow dress, with her hair styled in those twists and braids that I loved, she sat with us, smiling like the morning sun as if she had never hidden away. Happy to have her with us again, I blabbed about like a fool, as joyful as the birds chirping outside the window. Father spoke with us, too, being kind to her for once, and the pleasant morning together was wonderful enough to wash away my memories of the painful months that were now behind us.
As Father flavored his coffee, he looked at my mother. “If you remember, we have an important dinner party to attend this evening. Since you are finally feeling well, I will expect you to be there, dressed in your best.”
“Then perhaps I will wear nothing at all.” She snickered.
I giggled too, but Father rolled his eyes. “This isn’t a joke, Hannah.”
“Oh, stow away that scowl, Thomas. You’re so bloody serious all the time.”
He looked at her as if she was addled. “I take my work very seriously. If I did not, then we would not be doing as well as we are.”
“Well, what fun is it to be doing well if you cannot enjoy a joke every now and then?” She smiled slyly and took a sip of her milk.
“I enjoy things plenty fine.” He huffed, annoyed, but trying not to be.
“Oh, do you? When is the last time you laughed?” she pressed.
“What is there to laugh about when my wife is sick in bed all the time?” He stood up and shoved his chair in.
“Oh bother.” She fanned her hand at him. “I’ll be ready for your party, Thomas, and I will wear my best dress.” She winked.
He left for work without saying goodbye to either of us.
“Do you enjoy upsetting him, Mother?” I questioned, wondering why she had to ruin the joyful reunion.
“Of course not. But you see, there was a time when my life was fun and exciting, a very short time, but I remember it often. I have had to find ways to amuse myself in the mundane life we now live, and unfortunately, your father isn’t humored by the same things that I am. Just promise me that you won’t ever become as stuffy as he is. The last thing I need in my life is two bantering old nits that get offended by every silly comment I make.”
Stunned by her insulting response, I stared at her with my jaw agape. After reaching across the table to lift my jaw, she stood up. While looking herself over in the full length mirror, she ran her hands along her sides. “I still do look good naked, but it’s been so long since he has undressed me that I am sure he has forgotten.”
While I sat there, as mortified as could be, Mother snapped her fingers at Dinah. “And you. Get a bath ready for me. Nice and hot. Light me a candle and pick a rose from the garden to put in a vase while you’re at it. I need some romance in my life, and if he won’t give it to me, I’ll find it myself.”
After Mother’s long romantic bath, she met me in my room, suggesting that we get ready for the party together. She never let Dinah help her get ready, and as we picked out our best outfits she insisted, “You don’t need that redheaded wretch helping you with your style, or anything at all for that matter.”
Putting on a peach colored dress, I asked, “Why do you hate her so, Mother?”
“Oh, I don’t hate her.” She slipped out of her robe, and yes, her body was beautiful, long and lean, while her hips were curvy and her breasts were plump and round. Slipping on a cream colored dress with blue embroidered roses she said, “I’ve just never had many women friends. They are catty and spiteful and will stab you in the back the second you turn around. Like your friend, Hope Gordon. I know your father is good friends with her father, but you be warned, that bitch will chew you up and spit you out the second she finds any mild flaws in your persona.”
How many times could this woman shock me in a day? “But Hope is my friend, Mother. What has she done to make you think she will betray me?”
“Oh, I can see it in her eyes. She is only around for what she gets out of the relationship. The second you fail to appease her, she will flick you away like a fly. True friends love you for who you are and are there for you no matter w
hat.” She tightened the blue corset that matched the roses on her dress.
Thinking about my father’s comment about her avoiding friendships, I asked, “Who is the best friend you have ever had, Mother?”
There she went, blue eyes staring into the empty space of her far off land. Returning quickly this time, she looked into my eyes and said, “You are my best friend, Remington.”
“Did you have any friends before I was born?” I picked out a white bodice while awaiting her answer.
“Yes. I did, and I was the bad friend. It was my own stupid selfishness that caused me to lose both of them.” After looking down for a moment she shook her head. “That dress is lovely on you, Remington. Here, let me do your hair.”
We talked and giggled as she braided my hair. Watching her in the mirror, I thought about how pretty she was. Her smile reminded me of a crescent moon, her white blonde hair was uniquely lovely, her deep blue eyes were ever so enchanting, and she always looked so elegant in her fancy dresses. At my young age, I had a lot of catching up to do, and though I hardly looked like her at all, I always hoped that one day I would end up as stunning as she was.
She smiled as she finished the final braid in my hair. “Now you look like a pretty little Viking.”
Looking myself over in the mirror, I eyed the braids she’d woven with colorful ribbons. “I love it. I don’t think my hair has ever looked so pretty. Here, you should do one in your hair, too, so we can match.” I handed her the blue ribbon out of her box.
“Oh, Remington, you know your father doesn’t like it when I do my hair that way. And he will most likely make you undo yours, as well.”
Running my hands across the braids I sighed, “I don’t know why he won’t let us do our hair this way.”
“That is because he is a stuffy old man who has to follow the rules of society to keep his business intact.” She snickered, only half playing. Realizing that I did not chime in on her humor, she retracted her assault against my father’s good character. “Your father takes good care of us. I shouldn’t be so cruel. But I do think we should see if we can get away with leaving your hair this way. It looks lovely.”
Not interested in feeding the fire of her insistent rebellion against his fair orders, I began undoing my braids. “Do you know why this dinner is so important?”
“No, of course not. He doesn’t tell me anything. Why do you think I talk to my bird so much?” She straightened her skirts.
This time I laughed. “You know, sometimes I get upset because you are so rude to Father, but the things you say are outright funny.”
“A good sense of humor is my greatest survival tactic.” She flashed me a sly smile. “Some people like sarcasm and some people don’t.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I am glad you are catching on.”
We giggled and gossiped as she lined our eyes and colored our lips. Lastly, she removed our braids and fixed our hair the way the rest of the women of the world did. Though I liked her eccentric style much better, there was no denying that we both looked striking by the time she was done.
“No thanks to Dinah,” Mother huffed as we eyed ourselves in the mirror.
I just laughed. My mother was certainly unique, and though I often wondered how in the world her and my father ended up together, I was ever so glad they did.
Chapter 4
No One but the Bird
Father rushed in the door, blowing past us without a nod of interest, but it didn’t take him long to get ready. Meeting us at the door wearing a fancy bronze colored coat with a matching waistcoat, and a top hat in his hand, he opened the door for us. “You ladies look absolutely stunning.”
He gave us each a kiss on the cheek then led us arm in arm to the carriage.
The sun was setting as we went on our way. Through the stench of the smelly city streets, and while enjoying the pleasant sound of the horse hooves trotting over the cobblestone walkways, I relished the sight of my mother and father getting along. She showed sincere interest when he talked about his day at work, and he even laughed at some of her silly comments. She looked gorgeous, he was so handsome, and I was happier than I had been in a while when the carriage arrived at Mister Gordon’s stoop.
I had been here a few times, and though it was the home of my best friend Hope, our family visits at her house were always boring. As the doorman took our coats and fathers hat, a booming voice rang out from the corridor. “Brother!”
An average sized man wearing a dark wig threw his arms around my father. They patted each other’s backs and greeted each other with silly comments that were nothing close to proper. Father had told me a few stories about his brother Lloyd. Though I knew they were close when they were young, last I had heard they were not speaking, and I had no idea he would be here tonight.
Finally looking back at me and my mother, Father introduced us. “Lloyd, my brother, this is my beautiful daughter, Remington.”
Lloyd kissed my knuckles. “A lovely young lady you are, Miss Remington.”
“And of course you remember Hannah.” Father extended Mother’s arm in his brother’s direction.
A wide, satisfied smile lit Lloyd’s powdered face as he took her hand. “Of course I remember Hannah. Any boy who ever laid eyes on her would never forget her. You are far lovelier than I remember, though.” He kissed her knuckles, too.
My mother was hardly amused. Looking behind him, she nervously asked, “Where’s your charming wife?”
Mother’s tone made it clear to me that she did not like Lloyd’s wife in the least bit, but he didn’t seem to catch on. “Odelia is in the dining hall, having tea with Lady Gordon. Why don’t we go to say hello.”
We followed him to the dining hall.
The greeting between my mother and Odelia Wilshire was most awkward. “Odelia,” my mother hissed, not even attempting to hide her hatred.
“Hannah.” Odelia perked her thin eyebrows and shook her shoulders like a chicken ruffling her feathers.
Hope appeared alongside me to say hello, and I was just as relieved to see her as my mother was to see Lady Gordon. While Mother went to the table with Lady Gordon—who she normally had no interest in—I attempted to walk away with Hope, but the next thing I knew, Odelia had wedged her way between us. Amidst the boisterous greetings crowding the dining hall, Odelia fanned Hope away. “Be on your way, young lady. I need a moment with my niece.”
Niece? Oh my, this woman my mother obviously hated was my aunt.
“Oh, aren’t you a cute little thing.” Odelia smiled at me. “I always wanted a little girl, but the Lord only gave me two boys.”
“Two boys? I bet they have so much fun together.”
“I am not sure if you can call it fun. They are both older than you and just about ready to begin lives of their own.” She boasted about the places they were setting off to. One was on his way to Oxnard, and another was heading off to Port Royal.
“Oh, I am glad to hear that. I always wished I had a sibling, so I hope they stay in touch when they move away.” I smiled, trying to make conversation.
“Yes, it is strange that your parents only had one child, isn’t it? Especially considering the way your mother does things.”
Though I had no idea what she meant, I was certainly offended by her comment. While I wondered how I could get away from her without being rude, she leaned in to whisper and eyed me over with a judgmental gaze. “You know, come to think of it, you look nothing like your father. Hmm, I wonder where you got those pretty green-blue eyes…Do you ever wonder about that?”
I did. I wondered of it often. I wasn’t pretty like my mother, and I looked nothing like my father. Unlike their pale white skin, mine had a golden hue, and while their noses and lips were thin, my nose was bold and my lips were full. Having no relatives around to compare to, I had always assumed I had taken after someone else in the family, but Odelia’s comment about the way my mother did things led me to question my place in the world. I was not about to discuss the matter with her, tho
ugh.
Before I responded, Odelia smirked at me, wickedly. “Think about that my dear, and feel free to come to me if you have any questions. I knew your mother long before she married your father, and I could tell you plenty of things that she never would.”
My mother’s strange behavior flashed through my mind as Odelia walked away. I did want to know more about my mother’s past, but I had a feeling that Odelia would be the wrong one to turn to for the information.
Confused as could be, I felt week in the knees as I forced a grin as Hope rejoined me. Noticing my dazed expression, she asked, “What was that about?”
I shook my head. “Oh, uh, nothing. So, how have you been, Hope? I feel like I haven’t seen you in such a long time”
“I know! It’s almost been a whole week.” My joyful friend giggled. “But in truth, there are many new things happening in my world.”
“Do tell.” I stepped closer to better hear her whispered tone.
She looked around nervously. “My father has arranged a marriage for me.”
“Oh, my.” I covered my heart. I knew we were coming upon that time in life, but hearing the words stung me to the core. “To whom?”
“Jude Addison.” She twisted the ring on her finger. “Look. He gave me this posy ring. He just left for Bridgetown, but we are to wed as soon as he returns.”
Jude and his brother, Joel, were wealthy land owners with high political influence in town. Together they ran a successful tobacco field on Barbados and had just begun the construction of a massive sugar plantation on Jamaica. I had heard their names mentioned often at Father’s office, and knowing what a great part they played in the success of WG shipping, I was certain that my friend had been traded like a pawn in a game of business chess.
“How do you feel about that, Hope?” I asked, feeling sad for her.
She pouted, “I am a bit worried, but there’s nothing I can do about it. At least he is handsome. I suppose my fate could be worse.”
Every Time It Rains (Uncharted Secrets, Book 3): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories Page 3