by Kay Moser
“You said to be myself.”
Mr. Hayden grinned. “I did, and you are, and I’m glad. I shall protect your right to be yourself to my dying breath.”
“I think you better concentrate on protecting Sarah,” Miss Victoria said as she took Sarah’s hand and twirled her around in her green velvet skirt and ivory-lace-bedecked bodice. “Just look at her! The young men will be swarming around her like bees.”
“But she may not want to be protected from eligible young men.”
“Yes, I do!” Sarah blurted then felt a flush heating her face. “Oh dear! This is so embarrassing. I just know I’m red as a ripe tomato. But oh, I’m just so excited to be going to my first Christmas party in town. I think that’s about all I can handle.”
“You’ll be fine. Just stay close to us,” Miss Victoria encouraged as she draped a shawl around Sarah’s shoulders.
“The carriage awaits you, ladies.” Mr. Hayden covered Victoria’s shoulders with her fur cape and pulled her gloved hand into the crook of his elbow. “And I’m the luckiest man in Texas to be escorting two beautiful ladies.” He linked his other hand through Sarah’s bent elbow. “Let’s show Riverford what class looks like!”
Unable to sit still when they arrived at the store, Sarah bounced up, ready to exit the carriage.
“Sit back down, Sarah,” Miss Victoria quietly corrected her. “You are a lady now. Wait for Hayden or Sam to assist you as you step down. We have plenty of time. Only the staff will have arrived at this point. The guests will come in half an hour.”
Mr. Hayden descended from the carriage and called to Sam, “You have your orders.”
“Yes, sir. I be waiting ’cross the street, just like you said, all ready to take the widow ladies and the spinster ladies home after the party.”
“Hayden!” Miss Victoria hissed as he helped her from the carriage. “‘Spinster ladies’?”
Mr. Hayden laughed, kissed her lightly on the forehead, and turned to help Sarah down. “Better just call them ‘ladies,’ Sam. Keep us both out of trouble.”
“Yes, sir. I ain’t looking for no trouble.”
Sarah’s pulse raced as they entered the festively decorated store and made their way to the waiting elevator. What a difference from her visit two months prior when she first came shopping for fabric for her mother’s birthday! Tonight she was dressed in velvet and lace and was accompanying the most prominent couple in Riverford, the hosts of the event.
The store was brightly lit with newly installed electrical wall sconces, and every polished surface shone. Mr. Hayden had stationed the male sales force, clad in black suits and ties with crisp white shirts, down the center aisle to act as greeters and escorts to the elevators.
Even the most mundane of sights, sounds, and scents delighted Sarah. Delicate handkerchiefs, lacy scarves, and embroidered gloves lined one side of the main aisle, while men’s leather gloves, felt hats, and ascots lined the other. The clanking sound of the metal-grated accordion door of the elevator thrilled her as the uniformed man pulled it shut. Sarah’s heart leapt in her chest as the attendant turned the round crank and the elevator jerked upward. Through the metal grating, she watched as they passed floor after floor until finally the elevator stopped. On the fourth floor, they were greeted by female store employees in smart black dresses. It would be their job to take the guests’ wraps.
Everyone eagerly awaited the flinging open of the tall double doors into the tearoom, now converted into a Christmas delight by Miss Victoria’s artistic imagination and the work of several employees. The transformation had been veiled in secrecy, and even Sarah did not know what to expect.
“Are you ready for the grand revelation?” Mr. Hayden asked Sarah and the gathered female employees. At his signal, two men opened the doors, and Mr. Hayden escorted Miss Victoria and Sarah into the room.
“Oh!” Sarah exclaimed as her eyes widened and her mouth opened. “Oh, look at that!” Like a child, she eagerly pointed to the fourteen-foot Christmas tree nestled into the wide bay window across the room. “It’s so big and so beautiful!” She hurried toward it but reached only the center of the room before she was stopped by a piece of furniture the likes of which she had never seen. “What is this?”
“It’s a circular banquette,” Miss Victoria answered as she joined Sarah. “They are all the rage in New York and all over Europe. Even homes with large salons have one.”
Sarah laughed as she ran her hand across the deep plush of the cranberry velvet and circled the piece. “Riverford has never seen anything like this. It’s elegant!”
“And the perfect place for ladies to sit and watch a debonair gentleman perform a magic trick,” Mr. Hayden said as he eased both of them down onto the soft seat.
“What are you up to, Hayden?” Miss Victoria demanded.
“Patience, my love!” he called out as he raced across the room and stood by the Christmas tree.
Curious and excited, Sarah peered through the dim light and watched as Mr. Hayden pulled two wires together. The towering tree suddenly came to life as hundreds of colored globes shone through the dusk of the room.
“How did you do that?” Sarah cried as she jumped from the banquette and bolted toward the tree. All around the room, staff members were applauding.
“Electrified Christmas tree lights,” Mr. Hayden answered gaily.
“Oh, Hayden!” Miss Victoria followed Sarah and stood before the radiant tree. “You sneaky man. You never even mentioned the possibility of electrified lights.”
“Certainly not! I like to surprise my lady.”
“But when did you put them on the tree? They weren’t here when I left at three.”
“I have powers you’ve never even dreamed of, dear lady.” Mr. Hayden hugged her. “Not to mention a very dedicated staff.”
“And soon you’ll have a horde of guests,” Miss Victoria added. “Come, Sarah, let me show you your job.” Miss Victoria took Sarah’s arm and led her around the room, pointing out the arrangement. “I hope our guests will make a circle around the room before they settle in the center, and I need you to help direct the flow. When guests enter the double doors, Hayden and I will receive them here. You should walk them toward the refreshment table here on the left.”
Sarah tried to listen attentively, but her senses were overwhelmed. “Oh, Miss Victoria, what is this fabric draping the punch table? It looks like gold.”
“Gold silk lamé.” Miss Victoria stroked the graceful folds before hurrying Sarah further around the outer perimeter of the room. “After they have received a cup of punch, they should proceed to view the tree and then move to the refreshment table to the right of the tree for the pastries.”
Miss Victoria walked the designated route as she spoke, but Sarah had stopped at the mesmerizing tree.
“I’ve never seen anything like it. Just look at the strings and strings of beads.”
“Those are mercury glass beads.”
“And the ornaments!”
“All kinds. Blown glass from Germany, and wire-wrapped from France. You can admire it all later. Come with me just a little further.”
Sarah moved toward Miss Victoria, but her eyes kept darting back to the glowing tree until Mr. Hayden pulled the wires apart and the lights went out.
“I want to surprise the guests,” he called out.
“They’ll be surprised, all right,” Sarah answered.
Miss Victoria laughed as she prodded Sarah to move further along. “Here’s the second refreshment table with the pastries.”
Once again Sarah’s mouth fell open. The table was draped in the same gold silk lamé fabric, but it held silver trays filled with fancy cakes, the likes of which she had never seen.
“These are petit fours—all kinds. Napoleons, eclairs. Something to delight every guest, I hope.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that! Riverford is used to Christmas cookies and pumpkin bread.”
“This reception is our Christmas gift to the town. That’s
how Hayden and I see it. It has required a tremendous amount of planning and work, as you know better than most, but Hayden wants to thank the town for their twenty-five years of patronage.”
“Oh, it’s the loveliest gift ever! They will love it, Miss Victoria. Truly they will.”
“I hope you’re right.” She pulled Sarah further along the room until Sarah saw four musicians in black long-tailed jackets arranging themselves in a semicircle. “This is the string quartet who will provide the music.”
“Music?”
“Of course. What’s a Christmas party without music?”
“Are they going to play Christmas carols?” Sarah asked as she edged forward, trying to see the violins and cello up close.
“Of course, as well as some short classical pieces. Now come along, Sarah; we need to form the reception line and open the doors to the first guests.”
***
Standing slightly behind Miss Victoria in the receiving line, Sarah’s protective instincts for her mentor were in full bloom. She had overheard enough conversations at church and in the stores to know that many of the women resented this beautiful, sophisticated stranger who had come among them. What she couldn’t understand was why. Eager as she was to learn from Miss Victoria, it seemed inconceivable to Sarah that others would not feel the same, but she knew they did not. Consequently, Sarah scrutinized the face of each guest as he or she approached the receiving line and greeted Miss Victoria for the first time.
The men’s appreciation of Miss Victoria’s beauty was apparent, and so were their obvious attempts to hide their enthusiasm. Many a husband received an angry scowl from his wife and quickly forced the enthusiastic light from his eyes. The ladies, on the other hand, came in several varieties. Some drew themselves up into huffy postures and frigidly extended their gloved hands while examining Miss Victoria’s Parisian fashion with ill-concealed disapproval. They limited their comments to “good evening” before hurriedly moving on to Mr. Hayden. That poor man received a glare that mutely questioned, “How could you?”
Other women advanced timidly, obviously awed by Miss Victoria’s striking appearance and unwavering poise. Miss Victoria extended more than her hand to these ladies. She extended an invitation of friendship by holding their hands longer and inviting them to call. Shy smiles blossomed into eager faces, and rigid shoulders relaxed as Miss Victoria befriended them. Sarah was thrilled with each new conquest.
A few ladies, especially some members of the literary society, greeted Miss Victoria with warm admiration. Indeed, Christine Boyd went so far as to kiss Miss Victoria on the cheek, and General Gibbes, his rugged face glowing with obvious admiration, bowed from the waist, took her hand, and gallantly kissed it.
Through it all, Miss Victoria stood as regal as any queen, her soft red curls piled high on her head, a black jet choker on her elegant neck, and dangling fan-shaped earrings flashing in the light with each movement of her head.
After greeting guests, Mr. Hayden passed them to Sarah, who escorted them to the refreshment tables. She received many a startled or questioning glance from the ladies. Many did not know who she was and were clearly curious about her. Some recognized her from church and felt an immediate compunction to express their surprise, or even disapproval, at her presence. Sarah learned quickly that the moment she was greeted with, “Why, Sally Novak!” she should excuse herself with the briefest apology to return to her duties. However, she could not avoid noticing the cluster of women on the circular banquette who cast incensed looks her way and whispered behind their fans.
Much to Sarah’s surprise, the most challenging moment came when the Logan family arrived. Both Mrs. Logan and Lavinia joyfully greeted Victoria, and when Victoria drew Sarah forward, Lavinia even gave her a hug and exclaimed over her new holiday outfit. Sarah felt an unexpected thrill when Lee Logan took her hand and held it far too long, but the glow changed to hot anger as Walter exclaimed over Lee’s shoulder, “Well, look who’s here. The little farm girl who sells honey and waits on the divine Amelia.”
“Enough, Walter!” Lee warned.
“Just stating the facts, brother,” Walter protested.
“Sarah is my partner in the Ladies Literary Society,” Lavinia hissed at her brother. “She is a brilliant young woman with a profound understanding of the Romantic poets.”
Walter laughed far too loudly. “I don’t know about ‘literary,’” he said, “but I’ll sure buy ‘romantic.’”
Mr. Hayden scowled at him and announced, “What you are about to buy, Walter Logan, is an escort to the street.”
Miss Victoria hastily intervened. “Why don’t you escort Lavinia to the refreshment table, Sarah, and spend some time with your friend. Hayden and I can manage for a while.”
“Lee, you escort the ladies,” Mrs. Logan commanded. “I have a few things to say to my younger son.” She grabbed Walter’s arm and jerked him out of the receiving line.
Lee offered his arm to Sarah. She hesitated but soon placed her gloved hand on top of his forearm as she had seen Miss Victoria do. Lavinia casually tucked her hand through her big brother’s other crooked elbow, and he led them away. They stopped for glasses of punch and stood before the towering Christmas tree, listening to the string quartet as they admired the ornaments.
“It’s so beautiful: it belongs in a castle,” Lavinia declared.
Two ladies, Mrs. Lucille Ferrell and Mrs. Matilda Quince, walked up and peered at the ornaments. “I’ve never seen ornaments like these,” Mrs. Ferrell commented. “Have you, Matilda?”
“Mr. Hodges ordered them from Europe,” Sarah volunteered.
“Did he indeed?” Mrs. Quince asked.
“It’s a tree worthy of New York,” Lee observed.
“If you want to be worthy of New York,” Mrs. Ferrell said. “Frankly, it looks more than a little ridiculous to me.”
“I’m glad to hear you say it, Lucille.”
“Oh, you know me, Matilda. I always speak my mind.”
“I think it’s beautiful,” Lavinia insisted.
“Foreign.” Mrs. Ferrell condemned the tree with a single word.
Mrs. Quince sighed indignantly. “Just what you would expect given the ‘circumstances.’” She nodded toward Victoria. “What would old Mrs. Hodges, God rest her soul, think of Hayden now?”
“Turning over in her grave,” Mrs. Ferrell answered. “Outlandish Christmas tree, gold-draped tables—she would have thrown a fit.”
“Wouldn’t have happened if Mrs. Hodges was still alive.”
“And a bunch of fiddle players, for heaven’s sake. What’s wrong with a piano? They always had a piano before.”
“But it’s the twenty-fifth anniversary,” Sarah protested. “Mr. Hodges wanted to do something special for the town. He wanted to say thank you.”
“And he’s done a fine job of doing just that,” Lee intervened. “Shall we try some of the pastries?” He offered Sarah his free arm. “Good evening, ladies. Come, Lavinia, let’s fill our plates and listen to the music.”
“Putting on airs, isn’t she?” Sarah heard Mrs. Ferrell say as she walked away.
“Won’t work,” Mrs. Quince assured her. “You can’t take the country out of a girl even if you do dress her up in velvet and lace.”
“Don’t listen to them, Sarah,” Lavinia whispered. “They are just mean.”
“And jealous,” Lee added. “You look lovely, Miss Novak.”
Sarah’s heart raced as Lee settled her and Lavinia on the banquette and left to fetch a selection of pastries.
“Oh, just look at Mrs. Boyd’s dress, Sarah!” Lavinia nodded toward the receiving line as she spoke. “Isn’t it exquisite?”
“What is that beautiful fabric?”
“Brocade, icy blue brocade. So elegant!”
“Mrs. Boyd would look elegant in anything.” Sarah sighed.
“And look at her pearls. I hear they were her mother’s and were buried during the war. Isn’t that just too exciting?”
“Look at these!” Lavinia exclaimed. “Oh, Sarah, what are they?”
“That’s an éclair.” Sarah pointed to the cream-filled pastry on Lavinia’s plate. “And that tiny iced cake is called a glacé. That’s French for glazed. I know because I was there when Mrs. Hodges tasted the samples.”
“I hope you did your share of tasting too,” Lee said and winked at her. “Merely in the line of duty, of course.”
“Of course,” Sarah agreed. “Duty, only duty.”
An elderly lady Sarah did not know leaned toward her. “And what, my dear, do you call this?” she asked as she held up a miniature pastry.
“That’s a napoleon, ma’am. It’s layers and layers of phyllo dough with custard in between,” Sarah proudly answered.
“Absolutely delicious!” the lady pronounced.
“What happened to plain old Christmas cookies?” the lady next to her demanded.
“Don’t be an old curmudgeon, Penelope.” The first lady reprimanded her. “This town needs to try a new thing now and then. After all, we’re headed toward the twentieth century.”
“Well, all I know is it’s too much for me. I’ll leave it to the young folks.”
“Yes, Penelope, you would.” The elderly lady turned and winked at Sarah. “I understand that you are Mrs. Hodges’ secretary. May I know your name?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sarah tried to rise.
“Oh, no! Don’t bother to stand. You’ll spill punch on your pretty outfit.”
“I’m Sarah Novak, and this is my friend, Miss Lavinia Logan, and her brother, Lee.”
“How do you do? I’m Miss Mamie MacDonald, and this grouchy person is my sister, Miss Penelope MacDonald.”
Miss Penelope leaned forward and insisted, “I’m not a grouch—just a tired, old throwback to the good old days, and I see no reason to bring Europe into our parlors. What’s more, plenty of the ladies here agree with me.”
“I’m delighted to have Europe visit us,” Miss Mamie said, “especially since I hear that Mrs. Hodges has started a literary society and”—pointing to the string quartet—“she obviously has great musical taste.”