The Daughters of Winston Barnett

by Dara Girard

  Janet shrugged resigned. "It's settled."

  Abigail nodded. "If you or your sister ever need someone to talk to I'm here."

  Janet hugged her, tears burning her eyes that she refused to let fall. "Thank you."

  Abigail stood. "I'd better get downstairs before I'm summoned. The food is all ready for your picnic."

  Janet forced a smile. "I'm looking forward to it."

  * * *

  Janet was the last person to reach the picnic site. She stared in amazement. A white canopy stood with a table underneath covered with a rose colored lace tablecloth and white china. She took a seat and inhaled the aromatic scent of the feast that awaited them. Pitchers of lemonade, ice tea, and sorrel were placed off to the side, atop a large cooler filled with ice. There were cucumber sandwiches cut into quarters with the rind cut off, deviled eggs, a black-bean salad, ginger-spiced chicken legs, baked breadfruit and fried sweet potatoes and Mrs. Horowitz's delicious homemade banana-nut-raisin bread for dessert.

  "There you are," Tanya said. "We were about to start without you." She pointed to Jeffrey. "Now you can begin."

  He said a quick prayer then they piled their dishes. Beverly looked down at Milton who sat at Frederick's side. "He's so well-behaved. Most dogs start to beg when they smell food."

  "He's trained," Frederick said, not looking up from his food.

  Jeffrey picked up a deviled egg. "He's a world champion, you know."

  "Really?" Beverly said.

  "Yes, he's extremely athletic. For a time Frederick volunteered with animals. He adopted dogs from the pound and turned them into service dogs."

  Beverly looked at Frederick impressed. "That's wonderful," she said then sent Janet a private glance.

  Frederick shrugged then gestured to Milton with his elbow. "Unfortunately, this one failed so I couldn't give him to anyone. I had to find another talent."

  Jeffrey laughed. "Don't believe him. The moment Frederick saw him, he wanted to keep him. Milton was skin and bone, but he didn't care. He nursed him back to health and now they're inseparable."

  Frederick stroked Milton under the chin. "He's a good dog."

  "Who makes me feel like I'm your second best friend," Jeffrey said without offense. "I wouldn't be surprised if you prefer animals to people."

  Frederick kept his gaze focused on Milton, his voice neutral. "Animals are trustworthy. They'd never betray you."

  "And they're easier to control," Janet said.

  He looked at her, but didn't reply.

  Jeffrey clasped his hands behind his head and stared at the dog with admiration. "He has more trophies and ribbons than most people. Always first place."

  Janet flashed a smug grin. "Of course. His master wouldn't accept less."

  Frederick lifted his glass, his gaze meeting hers over the rim. "No, I wouldn't."

  Jeffrey let his arms fall. "He's got this guy who wants to buy him, but Frederick refuses to sell."

  Frederick took a sip of his drink then set it down. "He's priceless."

  Janet tilted her head to the side. "And you don't need the money."

  Again his dark eyes met hers, but he didn't reply. Undeterred Janet boldly met his gaze until Tanya admitted that she was helpless with animals but loved plants and changed the subject. After lunch Jeffrey and Frederick played a game of badminton on the lawn while Karen and Tanya encouraged Beverly to talk about her wedding plans. Janet went inside, grabbed her sketchbook and sat over to the side to draw.

  She watched her sister with a feeling of both love and envy, seeing the ease with which she spoke to Karen and Tanya. She saw Beverly's glances at Jeffrey as he made athletic leaps to catch Frederick's serves, but only she could interpret the depth of her sister's gaze. To an untrained eye Beverly looked like a happy bride-to-be. Janet wanted to believe it, despite her sister's awkward response to Abigail, but knew she couldn't. She sketched the three lounging women—Karen's sleeveless sundress, showing off her smooth skin and her white leather sandals and bare legs and took care drawing Tanya's colorful spaghetti strap top and Capri trousers. In contrast, Beverly looked nice, but conservative in a long sleeved peasant top and skirt that reached her ankles. Soon wedding talk drifted towards Janet. She stopped sketching the women, turning her attention to the men.

  Milton started to bark excitedly as he watched them, so Frederick and Jeffrey adjusted their game and involved him in their fun. Frederick gave a signal and the dog jumped up, pushing off his chest, and did a back flip. He then did the same with Jeffrey. Janet sketched Jeffrey's features in detail but left Frederick's in silhouette. She'd promised herself never to sketch his face.

  However, she couldn't resist sketching his physique. The guy was a jerk, but he had a great body. He moved with the quick, graceful movements of a trained athlete and his command over Milton impressed her. Janet smiled at their antics and nearly jumped from her seat wanting to join them to see what other tricks Milton could perform. She turned towards the women, wanting to comment on the dog's tricks, but saw them deeply engrossed in conversation. Janet returned to her sketch knowing that they wouldn't be interested in what she had to say.

  For the three young women, weddings and marriage appeared to be much more important than enjoying the spring day. Janet wished she could feel the same, but in a few months her sister would be like a canary owned by a cat.

  Jeffrey and Frederick stopped their play with Milton and returned to the table to get drinks.

  Tanya motioned to Janet, who still sat apart from the group. "Come and join us."

  Janet smudged a line with her thumb, giving Milton's coat more character. "I'm fine here."

  "All you like to do is draw," Karen said. "But most artists are anti-social."

  "Only some. Some are also suicidal, drug addicts and promiscuous, but so are some non-artists." She sent Karen a pointed stare. "I just enjoy the view from where I sit."

  "Janet likes to study people," Beverly said.

  "And what do you uncover?" Jeffrey asked stretching his legs out.

  Janet kept her gaze lowered and smoothed out a line defining Milton's front paw. "Nothing. I just watch."

  "Impossible," Frederick said, folding his arms on the table. "No one is an impartial observer. Observation is always tainted by one's own bias and prejudice."

  Janet lifted her gaze. "I do my best to keep my prejudices from tainting my viewpoint."

  "So you study people like a child? No preconceived notions? That's amazing."

  "When I study people I let their flaws reveal themselves."

  Frederick poured more lemonade into his glass. "And from a distance you think you can assess the true nature of anyone?"

  "Yes."

  Frederick took a sip then set his glass down. "Then you think you know me."

  Janet paused, recognizing the challenge. "Not intimately, but close, yes."

  He stared at the ice swirling in his lemonade. "I see. Are my flaws that evident after such a short time?"

  Janet set her sketchbook down. "I'm surprised you admit to having any."

  He looked at her. "Then you don't know me well."

  "I know you well enough."

  "And my flaws too?"

  "Yes."

  Karen lightly touched his arm. "No, you can't. Frederick is perfect."

  He shook his head amused by her statement. "No, I'm not. I have flaws like any other man."

  Janet leaned forward and rested her chin in her hand. "Like what?"

  The corner of his mouth kicked up in a quick grin. "I thought you already knew."

  "I want to be sure."

  Frederick hesitated. "I have a short temper, can be impatient and resentful. Once I've crossed you off my list, it's final."

  "You're right. Those are flaws that I couldn't have observed from a distance."

  "Correct. It takes time to completely know someone."

  Janet picked up her charcoal and rolled it between her forefinger and thumb but her gaze never left his face. "If one has the pa
tience."

  His gaze didn't waver. "Or the inclination not to judge and dismiss."

  Their eyes clashed in combat, but neither said another word. Karen felt the charged atmosphere and sought a way to change it. She turned to her brother who was fixing another plate. "Don't be a pig, Jeffrey."

  Jeffrey placed two large spoonfuls of the black-bean salad on his plate. "I'm never a pig." He smiled then winked at Beverly.

  "You just pretend not to be."

  "I admit I like a good meal, but I always leave enough to share."

  "We don't have to worry about Beverly," Tanya said. "She eats like a tiny bird."

  "So, Janet," Frederick asked. "How would you describe your appetite?"

  Janet didn't respond at first, surprised that he'd asked her. "It depends on the meal. If I enjoy it, I can be shameless."

  "It's always good to know what you like."

  Karen piped up eager to get his attention. "I know that I love raspberry cheesecake." She turned to Frederick who was also going for seconds. "Oh, before I forget, how is your sister?"

  "Fine."

  Karen sent Janet a haughty look. "She's an accomplished visual artist. She started displaying her work at ten."

  "I'm surprised," Janet said.

  "Why?"

  "I had the impression that Durand didn't like artists very much."

  "Why would you think that?"

  "Oh, just something I overheard," she said in a casual tone sending Frederick a sharp look.

  Karen frowned. "You shouldn't listen to gossip."

  "Perhaps."

  "I admire artists," Jeffrey said. "I like how you can translate what you see before you, or in your mind, and put it on paper. It's incredible. Artists are so talented."

  "Not all artists," Karen sniffed. "Some just claim the title and persuade people to agree."

  Janet set her charcoal pencil down and wiped her fingers with a damp napkin. "I'm not an elitist. Whatever work of art someone creates I consider the creator an artist."

  Karen applied a new coat of tinted lip gloss. "A true artist should be able to master any medium, have an encyclopedic knowledge of all the great masters, be bi- if not multi-lingual and develop a prodigious amount of work. Plus he or she should possess a certain air of class or style not burdened or enhanced by any outside stimulants."

  Janet laughed. "I've never met an artist like that. You've just described an imaginary figure."

  Karen recapped her lip gloss then dropped it in her handbag. "No, I just described Frederick's sister."

  Tanya nodded. "She's a prodigy. Barely eighteen and she's done gallery showings around the world and there've been several documentaries done about her on Canadian T.V. I think the last one was done when she was exhibiting in Vienna."

  Janet blinked. "I see."

  "Yes, she's an extraordinary young woman," Tanya said.

  "But she's a perfectionist," Frederick was quick to add. "She doesn't sketch as adeptly as you."

  Janet snapped her notebook shut. "Yes, but any hack or boardwalk artist can sketch quickly. True artists take their time."

  Before Frederick could reply, Karen jumped to her feet and said, "Let's go pick honeysuckle and grapes. They grow wild along Roden Way."

  Jeffrey also stood. "Good idea. It will be a nice walk."

  They grabbed several empty baskets, and Janet grabbed her sketchpad then started out.

  The group strolled along a nice path through the woods and across a railroad track that curved around an empty train station, where the track split. Years earlier the desolate area flourished with the influx of visitors, but the growth of nearby towns made the stop unnecessary. Now only the occasional freight train would lumber through the country side leaving Brickstone Station empty.

  Janet was across the tracks when she heard Milton barking then Beverly cry out her name. She turned and saw Beverly trying to pull her foot free. The heel of her shoe had gotten caught in a wooden section of the track where the line diverged.

  Janet dropped everything and dashed back.

  "My shoe's caught," Beverly said, stating the obvious. The heel of her shoe sat wedge tight in the crevice.

  "I'll get you out," Janet said, although her racing heart threatened to beat out of her chest. "Don't worry."

  That's when they heard the loud rumble of a train.

  Chapter 14

  "Help!" Janet said.

  Jeffrey, who was several feet away from them, spun around first. She could tell how fast the train was approaching by the look of horror on his face. It mirrored that of his sisters and friend. He raced towards them and she could feel the movement of the rails beneath her knees, the gravel biting into her legs. Soon Jeffrey was at her side and on his knees trying to remove the shoe. Janet tried to unlatch the strap wound around her sister's foot at the ankle. The buckle on the side was caught in the tracks preventing Beverly from pulling her foot out. Nothing budged. The roaring drew closer.

  "God help me," Janet begged.

  "Leave me here," Beverly said. "Or we'll all be killed."

  "I'll never leave you," Jeffrey said through clenched teeth, the veins in his arms raised as he tried frantically to remove the shoe.

  Beverly tried to push Janet away. "Please, go! If this is my fate I accept it."

  "But I won't." Janet struggled with the strap, tears blurring her vision. "This can't happen. I won't let it."

  "But it is happening. Accept it. Go!"

  The train whistle drowned out Tanya and Karen's screams, the tracks trembling increased as the train barreled down on them like an unstoppable monster puffing black smoke. In moments it would be all over. Suddenly, someone brushed Janet aside.

  "Get ready to lift," Frederick said to Jeffrey. He pulled out a knife then slit the ankle strap in one swift motion. Jeffrey grabbed Beverly; Frederick grabbed Janet and they jumped off the track. Seconds later the train roared past chilling the sweat on their skin.

  They lay on their side and Jeffrey gathered Beverly close and whispered, "Thank God."

  "Yes," Beverly said, calmer than she truly felt.

  Janet watched them, her heart breaking. Who could tear them apart? God? Was that the deity she served? What omnipotent being would cruelly separate two people who loved each other and belonged together?

  She absently accepted Frederick's help to her feet. He lifted her with such nonchalant strength that for one moment she dangled in the air before he set her down again. There were no tender moments from him, not that she would have expected any. He gave her a cursory look. "You're fine," he said. It was a statement rather than a question so Janet felt no need to respond beyond a curt nod. He turned away. She looked down at her torn skirt, now covered in dirt and bent down to brush off the remains of gravel on her legs.

  Beverly stood then let out a cry and would have fallen forward had Jeffrey not caught her.

  "What's wrong?" he asked.

  She cringed. "It's my ankle."

  Frederick came over to them. "Sit down."

  Tanya and Karen huddled around her and Tanya said, "Is it broken? I hope it's not broken."

  "I doubt it is."

  "How can you be sure?" Karen asked.

  Frederick ignored her. He knelt in front of Beverly and prodded her ankle. She let out another soft cry. "I'm sorry," he said in a low voice that was more polite than sincere. He touched another section and she winced.

  Janet took a step forward ready to stop him. "You're hurting her."

  He continued his examination. "I know."

  "Then stop doing that."

  "I have to." He rested his hands on his lap. "Fortunately, it's not broken. However, I can see that it's very tender. You've sprained it." Tanya and Karen sighed in relief. "We'll have to clean that cut," he said, noticing a small gash on the side of her ankle.

  Jeffrey bent down and lifted Beverly up in his arms. "I've got you."

  "I hope the Horowitzs have antibiotics," Karen said as she and Tanya followed.

  Jan
et stared at Jeffrey and Beverly in the distance. Soon her sister would marry Brother Jerome and become an obedient sacrifice. She spun away unable to look at the image anymore. Her gaze fell on the shoe still caught in the crevice. She suddenly hated it and all it represented—a life stuck ready to be run over and crushed into conformity. If only they could all be cut free.

  She fell on her knees and yanked at the shoe, determined to release it. She yanked with all her strength and it finally came loose causing her to fall backwards. She stared at it. So simple, so ordinary yet it had changed her life—changed her view of things. Janet watched Jeffrey and Beverly become smaller and smaller before they completely disappeared into the woods. She wanted to shout, scream, wail against the injustice of it all.

  Tears burned her eyes. Oh how she disliked Brother Jerome and her mother's stupid, stupid plan. She gripped the shoe in her fist then pounded it against the track with such force that the heel snapped off, hitting the metal trashcan sitting on the station platform. The loud thud echoed down the now silent track. She sat back exhausted.

  "Are you okay?"

  Janet stiffened at the sound of his voice, but didn't look up, mortified that he would find her this way. She quickly wiped away the tears. "I'm fine."

  Frederick stood beside her. "It's only a sprain. She'll recover."

  "Yes. I know. Thank you."

  He shoved her sketch pad and pencils in front of her. "You wouldn't want to forget these."

  For a moment Janet wanted to forget everything. If only she could draw a picture of herself in a new life. Or be as brilliant as Frederick's sister. Was she really talented or was she revered because she was rich? His sister lived a vastly different life compared to hers. Janet knew that even if she became a renowned artist her father still wouldn't let her go. She would still belong to him.

  Janet took a deep breath and gathered her scattered emotions then retrieved the items he offered her. She calmly stood and dusted off her skirt. She stiffly walked back towards the house then stopped and turned to see Frederick staring at her, an unreadable look on his face. She remembered her manners and returned. She held out her hand. "Thank you, Durand."

  "You can call me Frederick."