Bluegrass Blush

by Carolyn Bond

  She had no idea what the wire strappy contraption was. Apparently it was like a section of a hoop skirt. She ignored it and moved on to the gown. Although Everleigh had been in a sorority in college and had attended several balls in fabulous dresses, none of those dresses could compare to this one. It felt like something Princess Kate of England would wear. The blue silk fell across the bed like a waterfall of fabric, shimmering like it was alive. The color was midnight blue with white lace on the ends of the sleeves and around the neckline. Lace that, Everleigh was certain, had been hand crocheted with a tiny crochet needle, not by any machine. She pulled it over her head and it fell around her hips like a glove. The tiny buttons up the back were going to be a problem. Wiggling this way and that, she managed to get the low buttons and the high buttons done. The buttons in the middle were impossible.

  How do people dress themselves like this?

  She was assuming that somehow she not only had a different body, but somehow she must be in another time. She was not sure what year it was, but it had to have been sometime in the 19th century.

  A knock at the door startled her. She looked at herself to see if she was presentable and decided she seemed covered well enough.

  “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me ma’am, Angela. I just came to see if you needed any help with your gown.”

  “Oh!” Everleigh felt a surge of relief. “Yes, yes, I do. Please come in.”

  A young girl in a plain black dress opened the door and curtsied with a bob and then closed the door.

  “I tried to do what I could but I’m afraid I couldn’t get all my buttons.”

  “Certainly ma’am. I’d be happy to help you.” She furrowed her brow at the wired strappy thing.

  Everleigh stood and turned her back to the girl who apparently was a maid with the inn. She tugged a bit at the dress and then said, “Ma’am, uh, I might need to tighten your laces a bit more. I’m not sure I can get the buttons unless I do. And, are you not going to put your bustle on?”

  “Oh. Yes, could you help me with it?”

  Before Everleigh could say anymore, the maid was undoing all the buttons and pulled the dress up for Everleigh to duck out of. She layed the gown on the bed. She opened the white tape of the bustle and sat it on the floor. It collapsed into a flat one-dimensional set of wires. Taking the cue, Everleigh stepped into the center. The maid pulled it up to her waist and loosely secured the white tape belt. Two poofs of wire were unfolded behind her. One out from her back side and the other closer to the floor.

  The maid went to work on the laces tugging with great strength. Everleigh gasped a little to breathe. The maid stopped and looked at Everleigh and pursed her lips. Everleigh got the distinct feeling Angela thought she was fat. Angela was very slight of form, most likely due to not having enough food. Everleigh couldn’t imagine anyone thinking this hottie body was flawed, but sure enough, she sensed a mild disapproving air from the girl.

  “Ma’am, you’ll have to blow out and hold your breath for me to get it all the way.”

  Everleigh looked at her considering if she might pass out if she did that. Then using her “tight jeans” method, she inhaled, blew out all her breath, and sucked her belly in holding her breath. Then she nodded at the maid. Angela set to work as fast as she could pulling in the laces. Everleigh’s lungs began to burn and just when she thought she might pass out, the maid said she was finished.

  Everleigh let go of her breath and then panicked when the crushing corset wouldn’t allow her lungs to expand. The maid gave her a quizzical look as Everleigh started to pant shallow breaths.

  “Did-you-pant-tighten them too-pant-much?”

  Furrowing her brow, “No, ma’am. I can loosen them if that’s what you’re accustomed to, but I’m not sure your gown will button.”

  By now Everleigh was figuring out how to breathe very shallow breaths rather than pant.

  “Maybe I just need to rest. I think I’ll-pant-lie down a while.”

  “I should help you put on your stockings and shoes. You’ll never get them on by yourself now.”

  “Oh. Uh. Yes. I suppose that’s true.” Everleigh was sure she could not bend over now. She wasn’t sure how she would be able to sit. Maybe she could just lean against walls.

  She held onto the bar across the footboard of the bed with one hand, held up her gown with the other hand and raised one leg at a time while Angela pulled the stockings up to her thighs and put her shoes on her. The shoes were narrow but remarkably comfortable as though made for her feet.

  “Now then, ma’am, if you’ll sit at the vanity, I’ll do your hair.”

  “My hair?” Everleigh reflexively reached up and ran a section of hair through her hand.

  “Why yes, ma’am.” Angela looked bemused again. “”Are you feeling quite well, Miss Everleigh?”

  “Uh, yes. I’m sorry.” She shook her head. Then she realized Angela had called her Everleigh. Apparently whose ever body this was happened to be named Everleigh also. “I- I just, I suppose it’s the strange bed or something that has me thrown off.”

  “Thrown? Thrown off? Have you been injured?”

  “No, no, I just mean I must be tired.”

  Angela sighed a breath of relief. “Certainly, ma’am. That’s to be expected. Now just sit here and I’ll put your hair up and then you can refresh yourself a minute.”

  “Right. Okay.”

  Everleigh managed to perch on the edge of the dainty stool while continuing to take long shallow breaths. Angela pulled a horsehair brush through her hair until it lay in smooth silky waves. Then with the ease of a practiced hand, she twisted the long locks up into a graceful swoop and pinned it in a secure bun with just three pins. Everleigh realized that Angela must have been the one to do her hair before.

  “You are really good at that!”

  Angela’s mouth turned up a demure smile. “Thank you, kindly, ma’am.” She pinned a navy blue straw hat that curved around gracefully to the back of Everleigh’s head.

  “If you have no further need of my assistance, I shall return at bedtime to help you prepare for bed.” Angela then stood waiting.

  “Oh, no. I am fine now. Thank you!” Angela bobbed a curtsy again and disappeared out the door without a sound.

  Everleigh was dumbfounded. Without the maid’s help, there was no way she could have gotten dressed. Did all women in whatever time this was need help just putting on their clothes? Then she remembered that Angela’s dress was plain and loose. She didn’t wear a corset or a gown.

  Awe struck her. She apparently was of a lady’s class. The maid called her ma’am. But, the maid was not in that class. The very clothes they wore distinguished them from one class or another. In her time, wealthy and poor women could wear the same style clothes, albeit differing quality.

  Her time. This was not her time. Her mother was not here. She knew no one. Not that she had many friends and certainly no “significant other”, but her mother felt so far away. Would she be able to get back? Would this end?

  She glanced toward the screen and remembered the soap. She was sure somehow it was the soap. She needed to keep it. She would play around here for a while and explore and then take another bath with the soap and go back. Surely it would work.

  She stood and hobbled tiny steps back to the tub. The soap lay on top of the paper just as she left it. She wrapped the paper around it and folded it over the sides. Where could she put it? She needed to keep it close and safe. As far as she knew, this was the only way home. She lifted her skirt and slipped it into the top of her wool stocking. She let the skirt fall and smoothed it down.

  She caught sight of herself in the mirror and straightened with confidence. She was breathtaking. Without even a smudge of makeup, she was a mythical goddess. Her sunshine-colored hair waved around her face in a graceful feminine swoop. Her long eyelashes were slightly darker than her hair and made a thick outline of her royal blue eyes. Flawless translucent skin covered cheekbones any model
would die for. The slightest hint of natural pink blushed her cheeks. A perfect pouty bow of rose lips demanded attention but when she licked them, the effect was multiplied if that was possible.

  Her gaze settled down on her figure which, to a modern woman, looked cartoonish. Her ample bosom was accentuated by the deep V design that plunged to an inhumanly tiny waist of the gown. The gown flared in a poof over her hips before falling in a cascade of silk. She turned backward to twist and see the back but wasn’t able to make such a maneuver. Picking up a silver hand mirror, she turned again and peered at her double reflection to see a gathered row of white ruffles across her rear where it extended out before cascading into an elegant sweep. The gown was expressly designed to accentuate every uniquely feminine detail of her body to the extreme. Compared to her usual dowdy clothes, even a mini skirt and tube top would have seemed less suggestive. She wondered if the men of this time were disappointed when they finally saw a nude woman on their wedding night and found out she didn’t have a tiny waist or that much junk in her trunk.

  The only reason why she didn’t feel like hiding in a closet was the fact that the body now housing her soul rocked this outfit. She felt like she’d traded in her practical Civic for a 1968 Corvette. With the confidence that only a mature woman can own, she threw her shoulders back, lifted her chin and summoned every flirtatious gesture she could remember and headed to the door.

  At the end of the hallway, she slowly descended the stairs to the lobby.

  “Ah! Miss Addison! You will be dining with my wife Suzanne and her sister Faith. They are awaiting your arrival,” said a man who must have been the inn keeper for this time. He held out his arm and waited.

  Everleigh was taken aback but accepted his arm and let him lead her to a table near a window. Two ladies about her age, in her time, sat chatting quietly. They looked up when the inn keeper approached. The lady on the left wore a yellow silk gown in a similar style to hers. She had blond hair pulled up in the same hairstyle. Everleigh wondered if Angela had done her hair, too. The other lady had brown hair that was fixed with braids under an elegant hat. Her gown was dark green. Both ladies looked Everleigh up and down and with a look of approval, smiled sweetly.

  “My dear Suzanne, Faith. May I present Miss Everleigh Addison?”

  Everleigh wasn’t sure whether she should curtsy or shake hands or neither. So she just blurted out, “So pleased to meet you both!” and smiled.

  The inn keeper pulled out a chair for her and she tried to sit down. The bustle took up half the seat. With an awkward second attempt, she managed to get the hoops over her back end to fold together vertically. It made the gown jaunt upwards but she wasn’t sure what else to do.

  “Thank you, dear Edward.” Suzanne gave him a look like he better not look too long at Everleigh if he knew what was good for him. Edward turned his eyes to the side and excused himself.

  Everleigh, my dear, it’s so good to make your acquaintance. I’m so sorry to hear of your family’s tragedy.” Suzanne pursed her lips in a perfunctory look of sympathy.

  “Oh,” Everleigh had no idea what she was talking about. “I see, thank you. That’s kind of you to say.”

  Faith spoke up, “How are you holding up. Tsk! Tsk! You’re so young to go through so much. I must say, though, you certainly look well.” She smiled as though that were the understatement of the year.

  “Yes, I am trying to manage.” Everleigh offered. “What are you ladies having for dinner? Maybe I’ll have the same thing.”

  Suzanne answered, “We are having hot browns. Have you ever had it? It’s a Kentucky dish.”

  Everleigh remembered once having a hot brown at a conference in Louisville.

  “Yes, I have. That would be great.”

  “Yes, it is a large portion, but not too great, I assure you.”

  Everleigh paused and then realized her miscommunication. She would have to try harder to not use modern lingo.

  “I’m sure it will be delicious!” Everleigh said.”

  The ladies then smiled reassured.

  The footman brought a tea service for three, poured the tea, and asked for their selection for an entrée.

  After he left, Faith asked, “Everleigh, my dear, have you heard from your aunt? Did she leave a message for you?”

  Everleigh was stumped. She had no idea who her aunt was or why she would leave a message. She had to be careful or they would think she had suffered a head injury or something equally debilitating. Certainly time travel and possession of a body wouldn’t go over well as an excuse.

  “Ah, no. No, I don’t think I have received any messages.”

  “Faith, she did only arrive this afternoon,” Suzanne offered.

  “Hm. True. You know, Everleigh, I have not talked to your aunt in years. She lives so far from town. I’m sure you wouldn’t know having never been here. How long has it been since you saw her?”

  “It’s hard for me to say really. A long time I suppose.”

  “And your poor parents, did they suffer long with the flu?” said Faith.

  “Ah, no, you know, just a few weeks,” that seemed a safe answer.

  “And now you are left alone. How did you manage to travel alone? Was it frightful? I can’t imagine.”

  “Er, I suppose. I mostly stayed to myself.”

  “I can only imagine,” said Suzanne. “At least you are here now. Did Angela help you? Do call on her whenever you need the assistance of a lady’s maid.”

  “Oh, yes. She was a great help. Thank you, I will.” Faith and Suzanne chatted to each other about the perils of traveling alone and Everleigh took the opportunity to look around at the other guests. The small dining room had about eight tables with white tablecloths and silver, china and crystal. All the tables were occupied with couples or men dining together. She studied their outfits and gestures. Everyone was so formal and polite, speaking about only light topics and in hushed tones. Everyone’s posture was ramrod straight. Everleigh unconsciously straightened her back to imitate them.

  Boy, times sure have changed.

  She felt the hairs on her neck prickle as though she were being watched and very discreetly lowered her eyes and stole a glance over her left shoulder. Her heart thudded to a stop and her mouth parted slightly in shock at the man sitting at a table not six feet away. He was alone, holding a goblet, and he was staring transfixed at Everleigh. All the hairs on her head then prickled in an ecstatic instinctive response. As though her whole body betrayed her, reacting to the electricity in the air between them, her face blushed and she blinked repeatedly in the struggle to gain her composure yet not wanting to look away.

  The man seemed too tall for the table with his lanky legs folded under it, he was leaning back in his chair with all the confidence of a town sheriff. A glass in one hand and the other arm resting on the table. As her gaze followed his body up, she noticed the perfectly pressed white shirt and commanding black jacket. His collar folded up to hug a muscular neck that begged to have arms around it. Finally, with all the resolve she could muster to look in his eyes, fighting the conflicting urge to at once dive under the table and never look away for the rest of her life, she fell into a pool of heaven as her eyes met his. Green eyes framed in a handsome face with a strong jaw line, wide cheekbones, and dark black eyebrows. When the intensity of his gaze nearly crushed her, she let her vision wander to his wavy dark hair that came over his collar and nearly touched his shoulders. Everleigh had not only never seen a man so ridiculously desirable, but she had certainly never had one look at her the way he was. He was in no way taking liberties with his gaze, but yet his eyes spoke volumes saying he could love her for eternity.

  Just about the time she nearly melted into her chair, she heard Suzanne say, “Everleigh dear, where did you say you are from?”

  With a wrenching effort, she tore her gaze away from the stranger and turned back to Suzanne.

  “What? I’m sorry. What did you say” she breathlessly managed to say.

&nb
sp; “I asked where you were from. Edward told me but I don’t recall exactly.”

  “Oh, I’m from Charleston,” she mumbled before realizing she had no idea where the Everleigh of this time had been from.

  Faith lifted her chin, closed her eyes and took on a dreamlike expression, “Oh, I just love Charleston! Couldn’t you just die living there?” Then Faith caught herself as she realized the insensitivity of that statement considering Everleigh’s recent loss. “Oh Everleigh, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive. Please forgive me.”

  Everleigh had to think a minute about what she was talking about and then offered, “Oh no, Faith. I understand what you meant. Yes, Charleston is a unique town. I have truly enjoyed living there.”

  Faith sighed a relieved breath that she had not caused Everleigh anymore distress.

  “So,” Faith continued, “will you be living here with your aunt from now on? You’ll miss the big city now, won’t you?”

  It was beginning to pull together now for Everleigh. Apparently her parents had died from the flu and she had come here to Kentucky to live with her aunt. She remembered reading about women not living alone in these times unless they were a widow. Certainly as a young unmarried woman, she would need to live with a relative. She wondered when this aunt would show up and how would she recognize her.

  “Everleigh? Are you sad, dear? I’m so sorry to keep saying the wrong thing.” Faith began to pull at her napkin in dismay. Apparently causing distress was an etiquette faux pas.

  Again, boy have times changed. These people would be horrified if they saw Facebook, but I bet they would look at it all the same.

  “Oh, no! I’m alright. I was just thinking about my home in Charleston but I am excited to learn about Versailles. Can you tell me about the history?”

  Faith and Suzanne’s faces lit up now with jubilant smiles. Everleigh then realized how odd and yet delightful it would be to meet a twenty year old that actually cared about the history of a town. No wonder they were impressed.