by Terri Lee
She frowned. It was a constant battle, this struggle for the soul. At least, it was a struggle for her. She would never be as good as Margaret. She didn’t like to think that she was actually placing her soul in jeopardy but her independent streak was too wide.
“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary…” Frances whispered the prayer that was second nature to her but somewhere on the second line, she lost track of her thoughts. She looked down at her hands folded perfectly in prayer, hands covered in impeccable white gloves with little seed pearls all along the seam. What darling little pearls, she marveled, and how did someone attach them in such perfect rows? She sighed. Yes my gloves may be impeccable, but my soul is not.
Goodness, here she was trying to save her soul and she couldn’t concentrate on the task at hand for one full minute. Perhaps there was no hope for her. She retrieved the thought in the back of her head that she had clung to for her entire life. She remembered a young priest telling her that even when one wasn’t paying attention during the Mass, that the words and the prayers being said fell around you like a holy mist and were then free to take up lodging in the soil around your heart. Surrounded by the men and women from Christianity’s history looking down on her in their brightly colored bits of stained glass, she was immersed in her faith even if her mind wandered here and there. She smiled, remembering him saying “wherever you may wander, the Lord goes with you.”
As she continued her prayers, she realized her parents would never understand that she wasn’t deliberately trying to be disobedient. It was true she had always been headstrong, but she was following her heart. She would rectify the lie but she would make no promises about her willfulness. Looking up into the face of the Alpha and the Omega as depicted by a long-forgotten artist from times past, she wondered, would God understand?
She gathered her thoughts and made her way to the exit, the sound of her heels on the marble floor intruding on the silence that wrapped around the interior like a velvet cloak. Removing a glove, she trailed her hand in the holy water font. Lifting a cool finger to her forehead, she began the sign of the cross as she stepped out into the bright afternoon. It was a shock to the senses leaving the cool dark sanctuary of the church. The heat of the day was right there where she had left it along with the predicament she was in.
SEVENTEEN
“Lucy I’m in a pickle.” Frances collapsed on her cousin’s twin bed, which had been the site of many girlhood confessions.
Lucy was immediately concerned. “What happened?”
Frances spilled the latest news regarding the fact that her parents had forbidden her to see Frankie.
Lucy responded with the appropriate sympathy. “I’m so sorry. What did you do?”
“I saw him anyway. What else could I do?”
“Oh no.”
“I know.” Frances interrupted. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m in love. And the only time the world makes sense is when I’m with Frankie.”
Lucy sat back on her bed and frowned. “This is not going to end well, I can see that.”
“Well what would you do if Aunt Ev and Uncle Nate forbade you to see Tanner?”
“I don’t want to even think about such a horrible fate. What’s your plan?”
Frances stared at the ceiling as if hoping to find something written there to guide her.
“I’m just going to have to convince them to see things my way. I’m sure they’ll come around eventually.”
“I don’t know how you could possibly be sure of that.” Lucy threw cold water on Frances’s plans.
“I know I have no reason to believe it. But I have to believe it. Because it’s all I have.” Frances sighed. “I know it might not make sense, but I think I loved Frankie from the first moment I saw him leaning against the bar at The Brocade Room, laughing with his friends. It was like there was some kind of golden light all around him and I knew somehow he was going to change my life forever.”
Lucy shook her head.”I think it makes perfect sense.”
“Oh Luce, you should have seen Frankie’s face. He couldn’t understand when I told him that my parents refused to meet him. Can you imagine what that must have felt like for him?”
Frances closed her eyes, remembering the hurt in his eyes as she did her best to put a spin on the ugly facts. How could she look at this young man who was worthy of her heart and tell him he was not worthy to meet the great William Durant? She was embarrassed for her family, especially since they didn’t have the good sense to be embarrassed for themselves.
“What does this mean for us?” Frankie seemed almost too afraid to ask.
“It means we continue on as we’ve been doing, until I can figure something else out.”
And so they had but Frankie was getting restless and hinting that the situation was no longer acceptable to him. He was too honorable to sneak around in the shadowy perimeters. She couldn’t blame him. He would meet her father face to face and they would talk like men, he said. He assured her that once he actually sat down with her father that he would be able to convince him that he had only the best intentions for his daughter.
What she knew was that the lid was about to blow off of this bubbling brew and she had no idea where anyone would end up when it was over.
“Why are you just now telling me about this?” Lucy looked at her friend with dismay.
“Because you have so much going on. I couldn’t bear to burden you with my nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense.” Lucy moved to the other twin bed and put her arm around Frances’s shoulders. “You can always tell me anything, you know that.”
“I do know that.” Frances sniffed as the tears that had been pent up for the last two weeks flowed freely at the sound of her cousin’s soothing tone. Lucy seemed taken aback at this uncharacteristic show of emotion.
“And now,” Frances blew her nose into the hankie Lucy handed her, “Frankie’s demanding that he meet with Father one way or the other. I’ve convinced him to hold off until after your wedding.”
“I feel horrible that I’ve been too busy to notice what’s been going on with you.”
“No Luce. It’s fine. My goodness, you’ll be married in a few days. You have a million other things to think about without worrying about me.” She sighed as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Everything is changing so fast. I feel like my world is spinning out of control.”
The two girls sat quietly contemplating the changes that were indeed about to take place. These would be the last days of sitting on these beds and sharing their deepest thoughts while laughing or crying. So many days and nights had been spent here in this room together. Thankfully the walls would hold onto their secrets and keep them safe.
Though they would remain close, things could never be the same. Lucy’s marriage undoubtedly altered everything. And Frances knew it was true that life always moved people along whether they were ready to be moved or not.
The girls said good-bye with a round of hugs and kisses, knowing that the next few days would be a whirl of activities, culminating in the wedding on Saturday. Frances would be left on her own once again. But she would survive. For now, she would do nothing to disturb the peace and happiness Lucy deserved on her special day. She would hold everything together for a little while longer. She could do that for the cousin she loved. She had to do it.
EIGHTEEN
Saturday dawned bright and clear, with the bluest sky Frances had ever seen. To everyone’s delight, there was not a cloud to be found despite the last several days of rain that had drenched the city.
Frances and Lena arrived at St. Agnes an hour before the wedding was to begin, prepared to take part in the ancient rituals that females have engaged in for centuries. They would share those final sacred moments before the bride walks down the aisle to a new name and a new life.
There would be the usual fussing with hair and clucking over j
ewelry and make-up. Hurried commands regarding dozens of last-minute details. And lots of bashful giggling when references to the wedding night inevitably found their way into the conversation.
The dressing room was full of nervous laughter as Frances opened the heavy wooden door. She caught her breath at the first glimpse of Lucy standing in the center of the room, swathed in white. She seemed to move in slow motion while a bevy of women buzzed around her.
Lucy’s eyes met Frances’s in the mirror and she turned, extending her hand to her cousin.
“Luce,” Frances whispered. For once, she was at a complete loss for words.
Lucy nodded. “I know.” Tears glistened in both girls’ eyes.
“You look lovely, dear.” Lena stepped forward to offer her niece a kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you, Aunt Lena.”
Frances stood back a little in awe of her younger cousin, who appeared to be in command of the situation.
A small circle cleared around the bride-to-be as Lena and Evelyn’s attention was drawn to another pressing matter. A note was sent from the organist obviously requiring immediate consideration. Lena followed her sister from the room with her lips pursed in annoyance.
“When did you become so grown up, Little Cousin?” Frances beamed at her blonde cohort, after the other women had left.
Lucy dropped her head with a bashful smile. “I feel strangely grown up, but then on the other hand, I feel like I’m playing dress-up and Mommy will call me in for lunch at any moment.”
“Let me assure you, it’s real.” Frances smiled. “There is a church full of people waiting to witness your vows.”
“Vows.” Lucy whispered the word. “I can’t believe I’m really getting married.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Not nervous as in second guessing or anything.” Lucy assured her. “Nervous as in realizing my entire life is about to change with two little words.”
They voiced the phrase together, a magical incantation.
“I do.”
Holding hands and looking at one another, all the thoughts that could not find their way to their lips hung between them. Lucy blinked back the tears and spoke first.
“I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss us.” Frances nodded, stating the truth of the matter. “But we better get a hold on ourselves before those waterworks ruin this beautiful dress. You have a wonderful young man waiting at the end of the aisle for you.”
“Yes, I do.”
The older women returned, having managed to deflect some minor disaster, now ready to take control of the situation in the dressing room.
“Lucy is a beautiful bride, Aunt Ev. You did a wonderful job with everything.” Frances said.
“Yes, she is,” Evelyn nodded.
Out of the corner of her eye Frances noticed that Lena was surveying the dress and couldn’t help the corners of her mouth from curling ever so slightly. Though Lucy’s dress was beautiful, it was far from the level of couture that would be acceptable enough for a Durant. Even on this day, Lena was smug as she seemed to be reminding herself that her little sister was beneath her in every way.
Not only was the dress not quite up to Lena’s standards, but the church itself offered nowhere near the opulence demanded for a wedding. St. Agnes would suffice for the likes of Evelyn and her family, but Frances knew that only the grandeur of St. Patrick’s Cathedral would do for Lena’s children. Frances turned her penetrating gaze to her mother as if to say, “Stop it. I see what you’re doing.’’ Lena turned her head and made to leave, brushing her sister’s cheek with a hurried kiss as she did so.
Lucy stepped forward pulling her lace veil behind her like a young queen. She had a look of determination in her blue eyes. In full command of the moment at hand, she said, “Let’s get married.”
Hearing her musical cue, Frances moved with measured steps down the aisle looking left and right at familiar faces, who nodded in approval as she passed. This is good practice, she couldn’t help thinking.
Lucy looked beautiful and surprisingly calm on her father’s arm. Frances’s heart leapt at the look that passed between Lucy and her beau as Tanner caught the first glimpse of his future. It was a look of pure tenderness, and Frances felt relieved, knowing that Lucy would be truly loved.
She was glad, because it was the only way she would be able to let her go. Frances’s mind wandered back over the years and she could clearly see two heads bowed close, one dark and one blonde, as they made detailed plans for their respective weddings. There were journals full of notes gleaned from the many weddings they had attended over the years along with pressed flowers as tiny mementos of the events. Each time a new boyfriend came into the picture, they would try on the name and prance around their bedrooms in the never ending rehearsals for this very day.
They were no different than any other young girl, full of fairy tale fantasies. Only now, Lucy’s dream was coming true.
Will I be next? Frances couldn’t help thinking as she bit back the grin threatening to invade her serious demeanor. After all of her daydreams she finally had a face to place on the figure at the end of the altar in her misty illusions.
Just then, something in the dimness at the back of the church drew her attention. She squinted convinced that she had definitely seen something. There it was again, and now she could see clearly as the obscure figure waved at her, having caught her eye. Panic rose in her chest as the shadow grinned and she recognized the brilliant smile.
Frankie. What in the world is he doing here? Dear God, please don’t let him make a scene. Not today. Not on Lucy’s wedding day. She tried to smile surreptitiously without attracting any attention to herself, but enough to let him know she had noticed him. He leaned against the column at the back of the church with his hands in his pockets. And his casual confidence implied there was nothing unusual about his uninvited appearance.
Frances looked out of the corner of her eye, trying to catch a glimpse of her parents, and was pleased to note that they seemed none the wiser about the grinning intruder. Both of them sat staring straight ahead with serious looks on their faces. When she turned her glance to the back of the church, her mischievous apparition had vanished into thin air.
The sacramental ceremony went off without a hitch and when Frances searched for Frankie he was still nowhere to be found. Eventually, she gave up looking. Glad that there would be no confrontation with her parents today, she was able to enjoy the remainder of the celebration. She had no idea what he meant by showing up unannounced like that, and it had given her quite a start. But she knew she couldn’t keep putting off the inevitable.
NINETEEN
Frances loved Coney Island. She was glad Frankie had suggested it. It held a special place in her heart. With the wedding over and Lucy away on her honeymoon, Frances had been hard-pressed to devise another ruse in order to have this day alone with Frankie. Today, they strolled hand in hand as if there were no worries on the horizon. It was so easy being with Frankie. Why couldn’t everything be this easy?
“So it’s time to meet your father, right?” Frankie looked down at her.
“I suppose it is.” Frances frowned. She thought back to her confession and knew it was time to step out of the shadows once and for all.
“I’m sure everything will be fine, but…” he looked pensive and her heart sank with his hesitation.
“But what?” she looked up suddenly afraid. How long would a decent and honorable young man like Frankie put up with the dismissive behavior of her parents before he said enough was enough? How long would he continue to fight? And if he walked away for good this time, could she possibly blame him?
“But what if your parents refuse to listen? Are you prepared to make your own decisions?”
He searched her face.
“I’ve always made my own decisions. That’s the problem.”
Frankie laughed, but Frances could tell there was something left unsaid. She could feel someth
ing just under the surface. Quick, change the subject.
“Oh look, it’s my fortune teller.” She ran up to the mechanical gypsy, giggling. “You know I have to see what the future holds.” She ran ahead, tugging Frankie behind her.
“No, let me.” He produced the coin and put it into the slot for her and she shook her dark head as he fumbled with the little piece of paper that was emitted. She held out her hand, but he wagged his finger.
“No, not yet.” He led her over to an empty bench on the boardwalk. “Now you can read it.”
Frances took the scrap of paper in her hands, puzzling over the look of it. It was not the usual piece of paper, but was instead a small handwritten note.
“What does it say?” he urged.
She looked at Frankie and then back to the paper as she read it aloud. “It says, ‘You have a very big decision to make.’“
As she looked up, Frankie had slid off the bench and down onto one knee. His nervous smile competed with the sunlight glinting off the diamond ring he held between his fingers. Her hand flew to her mouth as she caught her breath.
“I made the worst decision of my life a year ago. I let my pride overrule my heart. I don’t intend to ever be that foolish again. My beautiful Frances, will you marry me?”
Will you marry me? The words danced and circled over and around her as if embodied by a choir of angels. Will you marry me? She floated away with them. Will you marry me? Her heart joined the chorus.
“Yes.” She answered the heavens. “Yes.” In that instant everything was right with the world. He wasn’t going to let her go. He wasn’t going to turn and walk away again. He loved her.
Frankie slipped the ring on her finger and she studied the slender promise. The gold band had a small diamond in the center with smaller alternating diamonds and rubies on each side.
“It’s so beautiful, Frankie.” She whispered.