Rescued (Flowers of the Bayou)

by Arlene Lam

  The woman had always tried to convince her, that life would be nothing if she never married. If she didn’t have a family but Amelia knew she didn’t want to be a wife if it meant being his wife. She’d rather be alone for the rest of her days. The whole thought of it was crazy.

  She knew everyone considered her to be somewhat of a plain girl. She wasn’t tall enough and was never one of the pretty, thin girls either. She was quiet most of the time and kept to herself. That was just her way, her real qualities being that of her warm and pleasing personality. And if it wasn’t her social charms it was her hair, its color in particular. She had deep black wavy hair that fell past her shoulders and was thick and glossy. Lorraine had told her she inherited both traits from her mother.

  Glancing out her window at the newly clouded night sky she was sure it reflected her mood. Flinging the pillow to the floor, Amelia slid out of bed. She knew that there would be no sleeping tonight and pulling on her long cotton nightgown, she headed out to the large reading room.

  The hallway was eerily silent and the only sound to be heard was the pattering of her feet on the carpeted floor. Blindly Amelia turned to her left and felt for the knob of the library door and with a quick turn pushed inside.

  Jordan heard the door open but was still startled. Who would be up this late—the dim candle light didn’t give him much of a view from his seat in the corner, but he didn’t bother to move his position he was sure it was a woman and that narrowed down the possibilities. That being the case he didn’t want to scare Vivian or Amelia. Lounging in his chair he lit the cigar that hung from his lips and poured himself a glass of brandy.

  Seeing the burning tip of a cigar Amelia felt her hand fly to her chest on its own accord, and tried to will her heart to stop beating so fast. “You nearly scared the life out of me!”

  Jordan glanced up at her with a smile. “Well I am deeply sorry Miss Marriot as it was not my intention to frighten you, but I do seem to do it a lot.”

  “Please call me Amelia, everyone here does.” Clutching the front of her gown tightly she realized how wildly inappropriate she must seem. “Besides it is I who should apologize Mr. Bradford; it is not my place to come into your library so late without permission and dressed like I am.”

  Seeing her dash for the door he spoke up. “You don’t need my permission to use the library and since it is late as you said it’s more than appropriate for you to be dressed so.”

  Sliding down onto the nearby couch Amelia picked up the book that lay next to it. “Reading relaxes the soul—you know I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d use a book for a remedy.”

  Turning the pages of the book in his lap lazily he glanced across at her before returning to it. “I agree.”

  “Poetry, it always does the trick.” Amelia blurted mindlessly, finding herself oddly at ease for the first time in the man’s presence.

  Quirking an eyebrow up at her Jordan put down the book in his hand—this was the most she’d ever said to him willingly. “I suggest Longfellow.” Rising he handed her his book.

  Frowning at him Amelia too put her book down. “I couldn’t.”

  “I insist, besides I can sleep, I don’t need its aid.” Winking at her Jordan returned to his chair but in the dim light noticed the large bruise that marked her brown arm but resisted the urge to ask her from where she received it.

  “I thank you Mr. Bradford I’ll return it as soon as I finish I promise.”

  “Don’t worry your pretty head about it I would like you to keep it.”

  Amelia felt that now too familiar blush come to her face and the corners of her lips curl up at the unexpected compliment.

  “She smiles.” Jordan said to himself and walking past her Jordan came close enough to touch her. “Something I am sure the world could see much more of.”

  “Really?” Amelia asked thoughtlessly.

  “Of course it’s a beautiful and welcome sight. Goodnight Amelia.”

  “Goodnight Mr. Bradford.” The soft clicking of the door shutting behind him was her only indication that he’d left the room and peering down at the book of poetry in her palms Amelia brought it to her chest. Suddenly she too felt she wouldn’t need to read its pages to find rest feeling unexpectedly at ease. Promising herself she’d read every word tomorrow she curled up in the chair not wishing to move from the comfort she’d just found in the library and quickly drifted to sleep.

  When Amelia woke the next morning it was to the feel of a warm quilt laid across her body and a pillow propped under her head. She smiled, knowing who had seen to her last night and clutched the book to her bosom. She would treasure it always. Folding the quilt and gathering up the pillow she would put them away later but for now the way she saw it there was no need in prolonging what was to come. She was no longer going to be living day to day in the house and had told Vivian but waited on telling Georgia, but she needed to know.

  It would be easier if she had Vivian do it for her, but knew that the news should come from her. She wanted to assure the child that she would still see them almost every day she just wouldn’t be living there.

  She made it to her room without seeing anyone and grabbing up a few personal things she shut the small wooden case. It was early but she had decided that she would wake up early enough to take the bulk of her possessions over to Lorraine’s. Morgan lent her his old hackney and mule to do so. She didn’t need it, there was not much to take.

  Laying her head down Amelia tried to make the best of the situation. It wouldn’t be so bad she would have more time to spend with her friends get to see them every day. She hadn’t seen Jessie or Lenora in ages.

  This would be her chance to rectify that. Perhaps the time with Lorraine would help them to grow close before she married. She’d spend more time with family— what was left of it—and friends. Rubbing her eyes she managed a small smile. It wouldn’t be that bad at all. She would have her friends. She had slept well but Amelia still felt weary. Yawning she decided it wouldn’t hurt to sleep a little longer. Besides she was more than ready to forget the events of the other day.

  She woke around noon and went about her daily chores as normal. Vivian seemed upset and she tried to cheer the woman up to no avail. Before she knew it nightfall had come and it was time to climb in bed again.

  It was more than hard to get to sleep that night and the last thing she could remember before finally drifting off was the sound of the grandfather clock striking four o’clock.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Eight weeks, four days, and several hours she deduced—that’s how long Amelia had been back under Lorraine’s roof and rule and oh how the days dragged. Most of her time at home consisted of chores. Lorraine should have just told her she wanted a live in maid, maybe they could have come to a better arrangement and she could have remained at the Bradford house and retained her little piece of heaven. Cleaning, cooking, and weeding the sparse garden before the rooster could even coo was what her days now consisted of, but even when she was dead tired she would find herself filled with joy when nine o’clock came and she cold hightail it out to her home away from home.

  She would dread coming back—Morgan would always be waiting and the fancy carriage that brought her home, because Mr. Bradford as well as Vivian maintained she not walk at night, would always get the old coot going. She would climb down, bid Mitchell goodnight and as soon as he drove off he would let her have an earful on their joyless evening stroll. Then when he’d worn himself out, he would try his best to feel on her chest and place sloppy whiskey filled kisses to her lips and cheeks.

  Yes indeed the days did drag and after dusk they were torture. Of course her aunt was more than pleased to see that the union of the two respected Negro families would soon be underway. Yet she was more thrilled to know that soon she wouldn’t need to worry over money—between Morgan and Amelia, they would be able to take care of her.

  Amelia leaned far back into the rocking chair she was relaxing in, the rhythmic squeaking of the
chair was louder than usual but was strangely soothing and Amelia was lulled into near sleep as she listened to her close friend Jesse chatter on about some party.

  Seeing her childhood friends was the only pleasure afforded her in her current living situation. Only a week ago she’d gone over to Nina’s and would like to stop by and see her again she’d enjoyed their last visit. Amelia replayed the things Nina had said earlier in her head and felt a lot better than she had in months. It was nice to be around someone so kind. It was also nice to be told you were pretty every once in a while. Amelia sobered a little, what a conceited thing to think.

  A picture of all the snobby attractive girls white and black and whatever other race came to mind. All were prudish and rude; well not all but all the same she didn’t want it to go to her head. “Come on. Let’s get out of dis room it’s stagnant in here.”

  Amelia jumped up quickly gathering her belongings and shaking off her daze. Walking alongside Lenora, she waited as her friend swung open the door and pulled her outside of the room behind her, still going on about the same thing. She should be at home preparing dinner, Lorraine would expect dinner when she came home. Amelia shook the thought away—the woman would just have to make due herself.

  Lenora pulled Amelia behind her as she called out to her sister. The Jacksons were hosting this year’s cotillion and it wasn’t every day a woman got to dress up. She wanted Amelia to come it had been far to long since they’d all had a chance to enjoy themselves together. Amelia of course had a slew of excuses. Mainly Lorraine and how she might not approve. Lenora knew one thing for sure, if Amelia invited that old prune of a man Lorraine would approve quick enough. The man could spoil any occasion, but not this time. Amelia was going to be at that cotillion come hell or high water, and if she had to come with Morgan they’d find a way to avoid him. “Jessie tell Amelia she gotta come! Last years was so much fun!”

  “You got to come to da cotillion.” Jessie repeated sassily. “Why wouldn’t ya want to anyway?”

  “Lorraine wouldn’t like it. You all know that and if Morgan isn’t going neither am I. Besides I’m not sixteen what do I care about a cotillion.”

  They ignored her. “If mama talks to her she will let you go. You know as well as I do mama can be convincing.” Jessie suggested

  “I don’t see any reason she wouldn’t let you go in the first place you’re a grown woman.” This was Lenora. “You can’t keep letting her make you miserable.”

  “Grown woman or not, Lorraine is Lorraine.” Amelia sighed.

  “Come on girl live a lil’—let us dress you up and do yo’ hair, everyone deserves a treat every once in a while in dis life.” Lenora was pulling her friend into a chair next to the stove and a hot comb all the while. Pulling a pin from Amelia’s hair, thick long hair fell down to her shoulders. “You got all dis pretty hair and you always pull it back, never understood it.”

  “It’s manageable.” Relaxing her shoulders Amelia decided to give in. She did want to see everyone, and she was after all grown.

  “Not too many curls.”

  “So dat a yes?” Lenora asked skeptically, but still letting an idea of a hairstyle run through her head.

  “Yes.” Amelia laughed.

  “Good” Lenora was creating a curl before she finished her statement and within a few seconds pulled the hot iron from her friend’s hair and smiled at the loose coil she had just created.”

  “Do the hair later Lena, let’s take her upstairs and find a dress first we aint got much time.” Jessie reasoned. “We need one dat’s low cut ta drive dem boy’s wild.”

  “Hush up.” Lenora said once again.

  “I don’t want all this fuss done with my clothes and hair. It makes me feel uncomfortable.”

  “But it makes ya look lovely don’t ya want that? Besides you can’t go ta no cotillion looking like wat the cat done dragged in!”

  “I suppose that’s why I shouldn’t be going at all. Your families are important in the negro classes. Lorraine and I are not. Why do you think we must work hard for all we have. Though the creole blood running through her veins has convinced her otherwise it still remains true—that’s why she wants me to marry Morgan so badly.”

  “I thought you wanted to marry him why you do wat somebody else want ya ta do? Besides you come from respectable folk dat good enough and you talk fancier than anybody else we know so don’t be a spoil sport it’s going to be wonderful.” The woman said heating the comb over the open flame of the stove.

  Amelia for her part finally did give in and let the two have their fun. As each curl fell down to her shoulders she would touch the silken spring, only when Lenora started swatting her hand did she stop.

  “You can’t touch til I’m done—come on smile or somethin’ it ain’t that bad.”

  “I thought I said not too many curls.” Amelia teased. “I just don’t understand all this fuss and buss over a little old cotillion. Besides you know I wasn’t even invited.”

  “You don’t understand cause you ain’t never been. And we inviting you so you invited. Stop trying to figure out ways ta get out of it.”

  Rising Amelia yawned “I just don’t want to be embarrassed.” Amelia told her friend as she stood up and stretched.

  “Sit down, da cotillion tonight we don’t got much time.” Lenora placed pins in just the right places holding straight hair out of the way of the sections she wished to curl.

  Amelia thought she was doing well and sat in silence only squirming a little as Lenora placed pins to her scalp sometimes painfully. Her bottom was becoming numb and she longed to get up but they forbade it. Her head was becoming sore as Lenora swooped it to the side so that the loose ringlets she was creating fell in a cascade on one side of her face.

  “Oh it looks divine, here use da butterfly clip mama got me fo my birthday it’ll be the perfect touch.” Removing the clip from her own hair Jesse handed it to her sister and grinned as Lenora pinned it in place. “It’s just right now.”

  “Yes but we still need to find a suitable dress, but with the way you looking already it can’t be too fine, you already got you a man aint gonna let you ruin my chances.” Placing her hand on her forehead Lenora faked a swoon, and delighted at the smile she got from Amelia. “See you having fun already.”

  Yes she was and that was what she was afraid of. If she was even remotely happy Lorraine saw fit to see otherwise, “What if she doesn’t let me go?”

  “She will, mama was already working on it yesterday when we saw her in town. Mama just loves you and want ya to go as bad as we do. ‘Sides you know Lorraine she want to be in the inner circle so bad she walk bareback naked in the streets if mama told her she’d be accepted.” Sadly it was true.

  Amelia again relented. “You think of everything don’t you?”

  “Of course, now come on stand up.”

  Amelia moved from the chair and up the stairs to the shared room of the two women and flopped on a bed watching as her friends went to and fro pulling out this and that. “You both still have to get dressed how could I be so selfish—let me help you.”

  “You then us, besides it won’t take that long we already got our hair done.” Pulling up a purple dress Lenora frowned. “This is ugly she can’t wear dis one. You’ve got to have somethin a little nicer.”

  “What’s wrong with the dress I’m wearing?” Amelia looked at the dress closely it was her favorite one. Made of cotton and dyed dark green with a white belt that tied around the waste.

  “Well nothing honey…but well… don’ you think it’s just a little on the plain side.”

  Frowning herself now Amelia shook her head. “Well yes but it’s nice and comfortable and more me than those fancy things you all scrape your money together to buy.” She threw at them offended; she did really like her dress.

  “We ain’t saying it’s not nice… it’s just that we have ta find something a little more dressed up. It’s a cotillion not the church picnic.” Jessie said pulling out her ow
n dress. “And there ain’t nothing wrong with dressing nice.”

  “What time is it?” Lenora asked

  “I don’t know around early afternoon I would suppose.” Jessie told her sister.

  Lenora let a small smile creep across her pretty features. “Okay then there’s still plenty of time. I’m going to go and grab some things. I’ll be right back.”

  Being right back took at least twenty minutes, Amelia and Jessie were left to their own resources to keep themselves entertained, and lord help them. They went from dancing on the beds to singing on the floor to playing childhood hand games. “What’s she doing in there?” Jessie asked looking to Amelia who shook her head not really caring to know.

  “She’ll be back any minute now I’m sure.” Gazing at the door Amelia waited for her to waltz in. She didn’t know her that well she guessed, several more minutes must have passed by in mutual silence before her footsteps could be heard returning.

  “A minute my ass.”

  “Jessie.” Amelia scolded.

  Lenora stepped back into the room, making sure not to drag all her accessories on the floor. “What we need is a little pick me up to add to your whole outfit is all.”

  “Like what?” Jessie wanted to know. Looking at the little necklaces and earrings now scattered across the table she raised a brow in understanding.

  “I need to get home I never told Lorraine I would be coming to your house.”

  “I swear you worry too much, remember mama took care of that.” Taking up a few or her prized possessions Lenora moved to her friend. “You like it.” She said pulling up a dark red dress

  “It’s very nice. Are you going to wear it?”

  “You are honey.” Jessie supplied the answer.

  “Come on now Amelia, get yourself on up on this chair.”