The Daughters of Winston Barnett

by Dara Girard

  "I'm sure you'll get to impress him on another occasion."

  "My dear," Brother Jerome said, waving his hand to Valerie. "I have people I want you to meet."

  Valerie touched Janet's arm. "I'll talk to you later," she said then left.

  Although Janet was disappointed by Russell's absence she was determined to enjoy herself and soon did so by completing several quick sketches of the children and adults who stopped by. But there was one person she was not happy to see.

  "May I have a sketch?" Frederick said, taking the small seat in front of her easel.

  She stared at him, searching her mind for a reason to refuse him, but couldn't find one. She made up an excuse that she was thirsty and would be with him in five minutes then left the booth to get a drink. Janet finished the lemonade in one long swallow then crumbled the cup up in her hand.

  Beverly came up to her and whispered, "You look like thunder."

  "I have to draw Durand, when I promised myself I never would." She threw the cup into the wastebasket.

  "You should be flattered."

  "Should I be pleased that the devil smiles in my direction?"

  "Janet, don't be so harsh. I've spoken to Jeffrey and he is certain that Wilcox is not all that he claims."

  "He's Durand's best friend. Of course he would say that." Then Janet glanced at her watch annoyed. "My five minutes are up."

  Beverly pinched her. "Behave. And smile."

  Janet used her hands to widen her mouth. "Will that do?"

  Beverly shook her head. "Please be serious, Janet. This day means a lot to Jeffrey."

  "I'll do my best." Janet briefly shut her eyes as though doomed for a root canal then returned to the booth, where Frederick waited. She didn't offer him any greeting or direct him on how to sit. Instead she began her sketch in silence. But after a few moments, the silence began to bother her. "The new wing is quite impressive," she said.

  "Yes."

  When he didn't say more, she said, "Now it's your turn to say something. Perhaps about the walls or the landscaping?"

  "I didn't know you wanted to talk."

  "As long as people don't move too much, talking helps me to get to know them more."

  "I don't believe idle chit chat reveals much about a person."

  "Or perhaps like me you only talk when you want to make a point."

  "You think you know me well." He paused then said, "Do you like architecture?"

  "Yes I do. When you saw us the other day I was showing a good friend of mine this building." She studied him and got the reaction she wanted. His eyes darkened and he clenched his jaw.

  "Russell is very lucky. He makes friends easily. Whether he can keep them is something else."

  "Unfortunately, he lost your friendship, but I remember you once said that when you cross someone off your list it's final."

  "Yes."

  "And you don't make mistakes? Because I know your choice caused Wilcox a lot of pain."

  Frederick sniffed. "He makes due."

  "He keeps his suffering silent."

  "Really?"

  "Yes."

  "Then how come you know so much about it?"

  Janet opened her mouth to reply, but Brother Williams interrupted when he glanced over her shoulder to study her sketch. "Oh Janet, how clever of you to capture Durand's likeness so quickly." He patted Frederick on the shoulder. "Durand you will be pleased."

  "I'm sure I will," he said.

  "She painted a beautiful portrait of my Valerie in her wedding dress."

  "Yes, I remember," Frederick replied, looking at Janet with respect.

  "And I'm certain we'll soon see another happy bride." Brother Williams glanced at Beverly and Jeffrey. "What an exquisite bride she will be. But let me not stop you. I'm sure you two want to finish."

  Frederick hardly paid attention to Brother William's departure, his gaze focused on his friend. He and Beverly were talking with such animation they seemed to block out the rest of the world. He soon remembered himself and returned his attention to Janet. "I forgot what we were talking about."

  "Nothing," she said. "I don't believe we have anything to say to each other."

  "How about music?"

  "I sincerely doubt we have the same taste in music."

  "You don't have to have the same taste in something to talk about it. We can express our different opinions."

  "But sometimes different opinions can lead to arguments, and I would hate to argue with you."

  He drummed his fingers on his knee. "One doesn't necessarily follow the other."

  "True. I also remember you telling me that once you turn against someone you never change. I hope you're not too quick to form opinions."

  "No, I am not."

  "And you don't look down on others?"

  "No." He furrowed his brows. "Why are you asking me these questions?"

  "I'm just trying to figure you out. I want to know what kind of man you are."

  "And have you figured me out?"

  "Not yet. I have found too many varying accounts to create a complete picture."

  "Take your time. Rash judgments can lead to mistakes."

  "But I may never have another opportunity." Janet set her charcoal down. "Done." She handed the drawing to him. Frederick stared at it for a long moment then quietly said, "Thank you." He stood.

  "Don't you want me to package it?"

  "I'm sorry?"

  She impatiently held out her hand and he gave Janet the drawing. She deftly rolled it up then placed a ribbon around it and handed it back to him. "There."

  "Thanks again."

  She nodded.

  He tapped the picture against his palm and looked at her, as though he wanted to say more; Janet busied herself by arranging her pencils. Finally he left without saying goodbye.

  Frederick wasn't aware of his abrupt departure. His only focus was creating a needed distance from her. She was like a splash of color in a black and white photograph. His eyes always sought her. As she'd sketched him, he'd studied how dark her eyebrows were, how she bit her lip as she concentrated. She had pretty lips—lush, full and wonderful just like her. Frederick glanced down at the drawing in his hand and smiled as though he'd received a sacred souvenir.

  Janet watched him go, glad the ordeal was over, then pushed him from her thoughts.

  Hours later, Janet closed her booth, hoping she could spend some time with Valerie before she left. As she flipped over the sign, Karen approached her. "I know that you've been blindsided by Wilcox, but I must tell you that although I don't know everything that happened between Wilcox and Frederick, Frederick is above reproach and he can't stand hearing that man's name. It is so awful to have one's house staff turn against you and try to air dirty laundry, especially when it's false."

  "You're right," Janet said. "You don't know everything that happened. I believe you don't know anything at all." She brushed past her.

  Minutes later Janet stood at the buffet table next to Valerie. "This is a terrible habit of ours," Valerie said.

  "What?"

  "Finding refuge at the buffet table."

  Janet laughed. "At least I'm not hiding from anyone this time."

  Valerie looked at Beverly. "Your mother is still determined to have Jeffrey Farmer as a son-in-law."

  "She may get her wish."

  "Only if your sister moves fast otherwise she'll lose him."

  "Beverly is shy."

  "How many months has it been? A man cannot be left dangling on a hook that long. She needs to reel him in."

  "How?"

  "By letting him know, without any doubt, how she feels. He cannot read her mind. She likes him, true, but is she willing to spend her life with him? She must let him know that."

  Janet blinked. "But that would be brazen."

  Valerie spotted a place to sit and walked towards it. "How can he know how she feels about him, if she doesn't show it?" She sat.

  Janet sat beside her. "I'm certain he knows."
r />   "Men need to always be certain of a woman's feelings. A woman should always show more than she really feels."

  "You sound certain about this theory," Janet said taken aback by her friend's advice.

  "I'm married, aren't I?"

  Janet folded her arms.

  Valerie looked at the crowd. "I'm glad to see that your family is doing well. They seem to be enjoying themselves."

  Janet agreed. Her family was enjoying itself, perhaps too much. She'd overheard her mother talking to two of the Sisters in the church, about Beverly's impending marriage with Jeffrey and how it would help them financially; Maxine and Trudy openly flirted with the catering staff, the workers, and any other male guests attending the affair. And then, as if there could be no further embarrassment, Francine surprised everyone by announcing that she had written a special poem for the dedication in honor of Jeffrey's father. From the look on Jeffrey's face, Janet surmised he had given her permission, not wanting to say no. She then proceeded to read. Thankfully a piano was not nearby. When it was over their father clapped the loudest.

  Janet felt herself become smaller and smaller as she recalled her family's behavior. Fortunately, Beverly kept Jeffrey from noticing. Unfortunately, everyone else did. She could see Frederick's cold assessing gaze and Tanya and Karen's amused looks.

  Mother Shea also watched, but for an entirely different reason. The outside world's influences were becoming stronger and lasting longer. The Barnetts were a little too liberal with their two younger daughters and that should not be tolerated. Their church community was as liberal as it needed to be.

  She had heard about other churches in their faith collapsing as daughters left home to live by themselves, or went off to find jobs away from home, and sons no longer asked permission to marry but instead, told their parents who they would marry.

  Their traditional ways and strict beliefs would be wiped out if they were not careful. Mother Shea glanced at Frederick and frowned. The Other—she no longer thought of him as just the Original—had to leave soon. It worried her how some of the Hamsford residents had accepted him. They weren't church members but it still concerned her. She did not like the influence he seemed to have over his friend. Jeffrey openly showed Beverly undue interest and yet had made no offer of marriage.

  She looked at the crowd and saw many faces she didn't recognize. Jeffrey had invited many outsiders who she knew would leave after the dedication, which suited her. She then turned her gaze to Brother Jerome and his new wife. She still felt that something was very wrong with it. She would not let herself admit that their union had been a personal blow. Why hadn't he come to her? Last night she'd had a bad dream that had frightened her. If the people in her congregation did not continue listening to her, they would all pay.

  * * *

  "Where is it?" Maxine asked checking through the papers on her desk. Outside their bedroom window they could see the glow from jack-o lanterns and scarecrows in the distance as the October wind howled.

  "I don't know," Trudy said searching through her own desk.

  Maxine lay on her stomach and crawled under her bed. "You have to know!"

  Trudy lifted her mattress. "But I don't."

  Maxine's muffled voice came from under the bed. "This is awful."

  Janet stood in the doorway watching Trudy flip through her books then throw them on her bed. "What's going on here?"

  Trudy froze. Maxine peeked her head out and smiled. "Nothing."

  Janet rested her hip against the door unconvinced. "You're both obviously looking for something."

  Maxine scrambled out and stood. "It's nothing important really."

  "You're sure you don't want me to help you?"

  Trudy handed her a book. "Well, if you could—"

  Maxine snatched it away from her. "We can find it on our own."

  Janet shrugged then left, missing Maxine hitting Trudy with her pillow before disappearing under the bed again.

  What they didn't know was that three days earlier, Mrs. Lind had found what they were looking for.

  Chapter 26

  Mrs. Lind had spent the majority of her forty-three years working for others. She didn't mind working. Her mother had worked hard and so had her grandmother that was the lot in life for the women in her family. They suffered bad marriages to worthless men and lived hard. Although the women before her had given up hope of good things ever happening to them, Mrs. Lind never did. No matter what, nothing stopped her from desiring one thing. And one day her desire was answered in a very unusual way.

  She was dusting the few books Maxine and Trudy kept in their bedroom when several sheets of paper fell to the ground. She began to replace them until she saw what was on them. When she did, she fell on the bed with her hand to her mouth. "Dear God," she whispered. She rarely called his name because she wasn't a religious woman and she didn't believe He was listening anyway. But in this instance the words escaped her lips as she stared at the drawings.

  She thought of all the trouble it would cause if anyone were to find out. Her hands trembled as she looked at each one. The disgrace. It would ruin the Barnetts. No one could ever know about them. She stood ready to tell Mr. Barnett then stopped at the door as an idea began to form in her mind.

  As the idea grew a smile spread on her face. The Barnetts would not want anyone to discover the truth and that could be very useful to her. But who to tell? She could tell Mr. Barnett but he would just rant and rave and she couldn't bargain with him. Mrs. Barnett was too soft. She would weep. Beverly? Definitely not... but Janet. Yes, Janet would do anything to make sure these drawings were never discovered and she would be able to negotiate her silence.

  Mrs. Lind folded up the drawings, carefully put them in her large apron pocket then continued dusting, this time softly humming to herself.

  * * *

  "Mi need fi talk wid you," Mrs. Lind said to Janet three days later as Janet worked at her desk.

  Janet spun around in her chair and faced her. She did not like Mrs. Lind. She found her ways too even tempered, too obliging. She found her looks sly and her eyes even more so, but she could not deny that she was a fine worker and an excellent cook. She gestured towards her bed. "Yes?"

  Mrs. Lind entered the room, but did not sit. "Your sisters have been frantically looking fi someting."

  Janet rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know."

  "Well mi find it."

  "Good," Janet said confused why Mrs. Lind would tell her about it. "They'll be happy to hear that." Janet turned back to what she was doing.

  "Mi need fi should show you first." She held out a folded paper.

  Janet took the paper and unfolded it. She leapt to her feet when she saw it: A pencil sketch of Maxine lying on a bench wearing nothing but a see-through piece of fabric. "What is—How can—I don't understand." She shook her head and stared at Mrs. Lind. "What is this?"

  "You know what it is," Mrs. Lind said softly. "You see who sketch it?"

  Janet's gaze fell to the signature: Russell Wilcox. She felt ill. "I can't believe this."

  "There's more."

  Janet held out her hand desperate. "Please give them to me before anyone else sees them."

  Mrs. Lind sat on the bed and clasped her hands together in her lap. "I will give dem all to you and never speak 'bout dem again, but first we need fi come to an agreement."

  "What? What kind of agreement?"

  "I need a more permanent way to stay here."

  "Permanent way?"

  "My residency status."

  "What do the drawings have to do with your residency status?"

  "I want to stay here for good. I hate only having a six-month visa, an' having to go back an' forth. I don't want fi leave again."

  Janet slowly sat down as she realized what Mrs. Lind wanted. "But I can't help you with that."

  Mrs. Lind shrugged nonchalant. "Then I guess you don't need these drawings as badly as you say." She stood.

  Janet jumped up and closed the door before
Mrs. Lind could leave. "Wait. I just need to think."

  "You better tink fast. Mi visa expires soon."

  Janet tossed the drawing on her desk. "Oh Maxine. You stupid, stupid girl."

  "Your fadda should watch her more."

  "I know."

  Someone pounded on the door. "What is going on in there?" Mr. Barnett demanded. "Why is this door closed? Janet, open the door."

  Her father barged into the room. He glanced at Mrs. Lind then Janet. "I've told you, I will not have closed doors in my house. What is going on here?"

  "Nothing," Mrs. Lind said. "The door closed by accident."

  He walked over to the window. Janet inched towards her desk and hastily covered the drawing with a book. Mr. Barnett turned and Janet folded her arms. "You know I don't like secrets," he said.

  "There are no secrets," Mrs. Lind said smoothly. "It is just as I said. I was helping Janet shift someting an' the door done close itself."

  "Very well. I'll get you a proper doorstop." He sent them a look then left. They waited for his footsteps to disappear. When they did, Mrs. Lind checked the hallway then closed the door a fraction before she continued. "So you understand me."

  "You want a U.S. husband?"

  "Yes. You will not get the rest of the drawings until mi have a ring pon mi finger."

  Janet rubbed her forehead as though she were developing a headache. "How am I supposed to find you a husband?"

  "I've been watching you. I saw how you helped Valerie get Brother Jerome."

  "I didn't have anything to do with that."

  But Mrs. Lind ignored her and continued, "And I've also seen how you keep pushing your sister towards dat Jeffrey fellow. You make a proper matchmaker when you want to. You're a clever girl and mi trust you. You have four months or your parents are going to learn what their daughter has been doing in her spare time." She pointed to the drawing on Janet's desk. "Oh, and I should let you know, dat's the tamest one."

  Once Mrs. Lind left, Janet stormed into Maxine and Trudy's room. They lay on the bed together looking at a magazine. When they heard her footsteps they tossed it under the bed.