Rescued (Flowers of the Bayou)

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Rescued (Flowers of the Bayou) Page 7

by Arlene Lam

“You’re gonna fit it?” Jessie asked already knowing the answer.

  “Yes and you’re gonna finish it off after.” Lenora watched as her sister shrugged in agreement she supposed.

  Amelia once again let herself be led to a chair where instead of sitting; she stood stiffly, and stripped down to her chemise while she went through the process of being pinned again in a different sense. “You’re sure we are going to have enough time to get this all put together?”

  “It’s not even five yet and everybody knows that nobody can start having fun til it’s good and dark and most important, late. Jessie can fix the dress up as soon as I get it all pinned.”

  “And we all know that girl can sew like the dickens—only one best her is Nina.” Laughing Lenora turned her friend around pleased with what she pictured would soon be the outcome. The dress was a crimson red made of soft satin, coming down low at the bodice, in the back the material fell down in a great heap.

  It was not a grand dress not embellished with lace or embroidery, but it fit Amelia so well. Better than the plain green cotton. “Go on and step out my part’s done now. Let Jessie have it.” Pulling it down before her feet Lenora let her friend step out of the dress before hurrying it over to her sister where she dropped it unceremoniously in her lap.

  Watching Jessie leave, Amelia took a seat on the hard floor folding her legs inward toward herself. She was fast becoming sleepy from all this, which was why she probably never went to any of the small socials that were held.

  “No time fo’ a nap girl sit here.” Lenora pointed at the chair.

  Yawing Amelia instead went back to the bed, spread her arms out and fell backwards toward it, letting her mind wander away from the here and now.

  Tomorrow she would get to go back to Georgia and Vivian and today would be but a dream. She would be happy to see them, but she couldn’t deny that each passing day that she spent with Nina, Jesse and Lenora she felt more and more in her proper place. As much as she loved both of them her status and friendship with them would always have limits.

  They understood her because they were like her. Facing the same fears, pains, problems and of course racism, only they could understand this because almost every day they came into contact with it.

  Try as she may Vivian couldn’t fully grasp her situation because she was white, and Georgia she was white and a child she was just now starting to learn that there were people in the world who hated others simply because of their color. It was like being torn and it was painful. Everyday she was away from them to told herself it was good. They could never be her real family. Life prevented it. She was who she was and they could not be a part of her life outside of the Bradford walls. For all of their sakes.

  Amelia did however treasure the moments they did have. Those moments were heavenly and the time she did spend with them was blessed. Seeing them filled a void, the part of her that missed and longed for their friendship and her little white room, all the books in the library, and that big old house.

  Recently if she was honest Amelia would admit she come to miss one other aspect, when she realized who it was she’d been shocked. She didn’t understand it. God help her, she didn’t even know why she missed him. Amelia didn’t now Jordan Bradford personally, hadn’t spent days of her life in his presence like she had with Vivian and Georgia or even Andrew who was a recluse if not working. She’d only know him a few short months, speaking with him briefly as they encountered each other in the vast halls.

  After that night in the library, she would sometimes catch him staring at her. At first she wouldn’t say anything just raise an eyebrow, earning her a heart stopping smile. Amelia was sure he knew that she saw him looking at her; sometimes she thought he wanted her to notice his gaze, never trying to hide it or explain himself, not that he would ever. He was a man, men were known for being bold and stubborn and on top of that he was white.

  Even if he felt compelled to explain his actions he would not—she was just a poor colored girl, no one of consequence. Funny how in his presence she didn’t feel that way, it was always afterward that she would force herself to remember the big differences between them.

  One day while she was outside with Georgia plucking up irises for the house, he had come up behind her. She had been caught off guard and nearly yelped in her shock. She always nearly yelped when he was around. He turned her into a babbling idiot. Frowning she turned toward him. “Don’t you have anything better to do than try to scare me to death all the time?” She asked jokingly.

  “No not today.” He had said. Then from behind his back he produced a bouquet of wildflowers.

  Her heart began pounding in her chest as he reached them out within her grasp and she would have grabbed them if not he had bent down to give them to Georgia.

  “For you.”

  “Thank you very much.” Georgia hugged the flowers to herself, inhaling their scent happily before going back to the task at hand, gathering their own flowers. Immediately she had felt the heat coming to her cheeks at her foolishness. Why would he want to give her flowers? Who was she to him besides the maid.

  Jordan rose from his position, taking note almost immediately of the embarrassment written all over Amelia’s face. “You look downright sad. Whatever could be the matter?” He joked.

  All she did was turn her head trying to hide her disappointment taking up the irises Georgia offered and placing them in the basket she held. “Those should look beautiful in the foyer.” Amelia told Georgia scooting closer to the child.

  Jordan looked down on the woman thoughtfully. “You must be a woman who appreciates botanicals. Perhaps I should have brought you a bouquet.”

  “A gentleman would come bearing gifts for all ladies.” She said out of nowhere, a trace of mischief in her voice.

  “Of course you know you are right. I hope I’ve not caused you offense. That in itself would be a shame, especially since I’ve indeed come bearing a gift for you as well.”

  Perking up at that Amelia faced him. “And what would that be Mr. Bradford.”

  “I think we’ve known each other long enough to use first names.”

  “That may be so, but it is not at all proper Mr. Bradford.”

  “Back to formalities?”

  “I didn’t know that we had ever left them.” Amelia teased.

  “You know Amelia, I think I’m starting to notice a bit of mean in you. I don’t think you deserve this.” he said smiling, playing along as if they truly were at odds. “From far away you seem to be a sweet woman but lord knows when one gets to know you that all changes.” Reaching in the lapel of his coat Jordan stared into her eyes as he presented her with his gift. A single red rose. “Yet I still thought of you while in the city.”

  Amelia reached out to take it but he pulled it away lightheartedly before letting her grasp it. When she had it in her possession she took the chance to examine it. “It’s beautiful, thank you.” And it had no blemishes, a beautiful scarlet with no signs of wilting. “Where did you find it? I thought it was too cold for roses this time of year.”

  “I bought it from a woman in the city, you’d have to ask her. It’s much like you—wouldn’t you agree?”

  “How?”

  “Silly woman what do you mean how? It’s lovely to look at.” Jordan said achieving the desired effect—a pretty little smile she was trying her best to hide so as to keep up the charade. That’s all he had wanted. Raising a brow at her he then turned back to Georgia. “Come inside, I’ve bought you a present.”

  “What is it?” Georgia asked jumping up from her stooped position, but instead of waiting for a response grabbed his hand and started pulling her brother after her toward the house.

  Amelia herself was left to stare after them. And to wonder what in the world that man was trying to do to her.

  Sighing loudly Amelia tried to clear her mind and drive the memory away but was soon lost in thought again. She had left three days after he had given her the rose and had tried her hardest to r
un into him as much as humanly possible. No easy task, he would spend his mornings with Georgia, his afternoons locked up in his office working, and his evenings were spent somewhere other than home. She was getting into the thought that she wouldn’t be able to steal away any time with him, every plan she had hatched failing miserably.

  Then while on her way to see Georgia and Vivian to say her goodbyes, she spotted him coming from his office, same lopsided grin on his face he wore whenever he saw her. She seized the opportunity walking down the long corridor to where he stood as he took out one of those ever present cigars.

  That walk seemed like an eternity, the whole time his eyes fixed on her—boring into her. Suddenly she had the strongest urge to run into Vivian’s room and sneak a peek at herself in her mirror. Heat started making a slow torturous trail from the pit of her stomach to every region thereof. God why did he do his to her, she didn’t get her answer.

  Before she knew it she was there, she was standing in front of him at a loss for words. She searched her brain for something, anything to say but nothing would come, she was speechless. Damn him and his rose.

  “Amelia.” He acknowledged.

  She heard that deep voice and it was velvet. All she could manage was a soft smile. She couldn’t say what she wanted to say because she didn’t know what she wanted to say. Sighing she moved past him without ease feeling as if the eyes of the world were upon her.

  As soon as the moment had come it was lost. She was off and saying her goodbyes to Vivian and Georgia and was on her way to Lorraine’s where everything was different. Where she had to tell people how much better things now were.

  She liked some aspects of being home true enough, it meant being with her friends and now apparently Cotillions. She was invited to picnics. It wasn’t like that at the Bradford house. When she was there it was just Vivian, Georgia and herself and of course Jordan, but at home it was a community. Why did she resent it so much?

  “You daydreaming?” Lenora walked in with her sister in tow. “Come on up here.”

  “Already back to poke and prod at me.” Grinning she stood once more while Jessie this time took the reins of the whole operation.

  “You’re gonna look stunning.” Jessie pulled out her needle and thread. The rest of the process took up to forty-five minutes and when they were done she wasn’t allowed to look at herself once again as the rest of the little small touches where added. Lenora and Jessie then hurried into another room to finish dressing themselves.

  Left by herself she headed downstairs, mindful of the slight train behind her and careful not to step on it. She felt so odd, seeing how she’d hardly worn anything like this in her life, she felt silly but at the same time she felt divine.

  The only thing she happened to dislike was the top. It felt so uncomfortable like she would tumble out at any given moment, even though both Jessie and Lenora had assured she wouldn’t and that the dress was made that way on purpose.

  Glancing at the clock above, Amelia called up to her friends. “We’re late!” This brought both down in a flurry of ice blue and soft pink. “You are both very beautiful.” Where her dress was pretty, theirs were gorgeous.

  “You paint a pretty picture yourself sugah.” Jessie spun her friend around in a circle.

  “Uh huh I bet.”

  “Well you do, now don’t she Lenora?”

  “Of course she does.” Lenora patted at her short-cropped hair making sure it was in place. “She’s silly as she wants to be.”

  “See we’re all in agreement then.” Jessie headed for the door.

  “If you all say so.”

  Shaking both their heads Lenora joined her sister by the door followed by Amelia.

  “You know what your problem is? Because if not I’m fixing to tell you, your darn problem is that not enough people tell you just how downright pretty you are.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Jordan looked at Georgia sternly as if giving his answer good thought. “I don’t think so Georgia.” Then he walked away.

  “But I want to go. I said I would Jordan I promised.”

  “That should teach you not to make promises you can’t keep.” He scolded

  “Ugh, but I could keep it if you would let me go.” Georgia gave her best puppy dog eyes up to her brother.

  There really was no reason for him not to let her go, besides the fact that he would have to take her and for at least fifteen minutes to an half an hour chat with the girls’ mothers and carry on conversations he could care less about.

  “Please.” Georgia knew that she had won the moment he flopped back in the chair behind him.

  “Go get Vivian, she can take you.”

  “Well played Georgia.” This came from Jasper who was reclining against the desk.

  “Thank you.” She acknowledged. “Why won’t you take me Jordan?”

  “Don’t press your luck little girl besides I’ve matters to attend to.”

  “What kind of matters?” She mocked

  “Nothing that concerns a little girl” He grinned down at her before grabbing his glass and heading out.

  “I will have you picked up early in the morning Georgia.”

  “Good.”

  He stopped mid-stride. “Why so happy to be coming home early, you just begged to go?”

  “Amelia will be back.”

  “I almost forgot.” How could he almost forget?

  Georgia quirked her eyebrow up at her brother, noticing the deep dimpled grin that spread across his face. “Are you going to do something to Amelia?”

  “Of course not why do you ask?”

  “Because you always look like that when you’re about to play a prank.”

  “I thought you were leaving.” Grinning he watched as she pouted, turned and ran up the staircase.

  Turning his attention back to business he let his hand run through his hair. He and Jasper had to meet with Drew Miller tonight and it wasn’t something he looked forward to.

  They planned to buy out of his lumber company and merge it with that of their own but the greedy man would probably have them away for hours dealing out offers far exceeding what his small venture was worth, and then there was the cotillion that Glen Jackson had invited him to.

  He couldn’t wait for that news to spread among the fine ladies and gentleman of finer New Orleans, it was bound to be a riot.

  It would be a large party, with most of the coloreds in New Orleans attending seeing how Glen Jackson was black. Unfortunately he doubted he’d enjoy himself—the sophisticated blacks and creoles of the French Quarter proved to be as bad as their white brethren and just as boring. Still there was the possibility the event wouldn’t be a complete loss. He was hoping Amelia would in attendance.

  Glen had mentioned she might be, explaining how his wife adored her and though she wasn’t of status she came from a respectable lot and was welcome. He’d frowned at the man the rest of the conversation. Jordan was curious to see what she looked like outside of her plain cotton skirts and blouses. Seeing her dressed otherwise would alone make the night worthwhile if nothing else did. “You’re coming?”

  “Would I miss it?” Jasper responded. “And might I add you are rather well dressed not a hair out of place cleanly shaven. Not your usual fare.”

  “It’s an important event.”

  “I’ll give you that, it’s just curious is all.” Jasper continued donning his overcoat.

  “It’s not.”

  “Maybe, but I feel there is something to it.”

  “Feel however you like but it’s getting late so if you’re coming lets go.” Jordan walked out across the marble floored foyer to the front door. The carriage was already waiting out front and he climbed in and when Jasper climbed in on the other side, rapped on the door signaling Mitchell ahead.

  The ride was filled with good natured jests and laughter and went back and forth between that and Jasper’s prying. He wanted to know what had him in such good spirits as of late.

 
They’d stop by a pub in which they were to meet with Miller on the way. A surprise to both they were done before nine, closing the deal without much fanfare. After a few celebratory drinks the two made their way to Jackson’s humble home, the outside of which was littered with colorful coaches.

  The house was packed with smiling and laughing faces but it wasn’t long before Jasper spotted the one person he was really looking for, a striking brunette near a table of drinks and cakes Jasper slowly sidled up beside her. “I believe I have found the most beautiful lady here, what do you think Jordan?” Beaming, Jasper stared down at his wife who in turn dazzled him with her warm smile.

  “Well I know that I have the two finest men around right here by my side. Neither of you mentioned attending. Were you even invited?” Margaret asked as she put her best surprised but yet upset look on.

  “Maybe, maybe not but I thought to myself how in the world could I miss you looking this lovely.”

  “I see, and what is your excuse Jordan?”

  “You act as if you don’t want me here.” Jordan teased. “No matter, I was invited by the host himself.”

  “I don’t believe either one of you, you both hate parties, dancing and everything else. “What is the real reason?”

  “I just wanted to give this city something to talk about.” Flicking her on the nose Jordan reached for one of the punch glasses near him, avoiding his cousin’s disapproving stare.

  “This city already knows you as a womanizing scoundrel, reckless and self-serving, do you need to add more to your already blackened list?” Raising an eyebrow at him she awaited his answer.

  “Are you of all people pointing fingers—the woman who’s known for stealing Jasper from Bernadette Walker? Also known as a trouble making colored advocate, you dear lady should keep your mouth shut. What do I care what they think anyway.”

  “Ugh sometimes I wonder how I survived growing up with Bradford men around” Margaret huffed

  “Well I came for a good reason.” Turning to his wife Jasper asked. “Where’s Jackson.”

  Jordan now all but ignored his cousin’s falsely heated words, and went back to nursing his drink and taking in the scenery. Nearly seventy people were packed into the small house with its white walls and oak furnishings, but it didn’t take him long to spot the man in question and point his friend in his direction.

 

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