An Old Fashioned Southern Romance Novel

by Annalise Arrington

  “He’s going to marry that trash!” Annabella could no longer hold it in.

  Hattie scrambled into the hallway, tying her robe at the waist and straightening her rollers. She listened intently as Annabella explained that Warrenton agreed to marry Marigold in exchange for her dropping the lawsuit. He thought it was the only way to save his father’s fortune. It was classic Warrenton and Annabella could not believe she had fallen for it yet again. How could he even think that was a viable plan? Annabella’s only conclusion was that he wanted to marry her in the first place. Annabella eventually let Hattie return to her slumber. The girl sat up for hours before quietly slipping out of the house to go to the airport. Annabella was finally ready to complete her trip. She knew it was as good a time as any to go to London. She would not have to face Warrenton and his family at his father’s funeral and Hattie would not have a chance to talk her out of leaving again. She was going to wait at the airport for the first thing smoking to London. Come hell or high water, Annabella Olivia Devereaux was going to make her dreams come true.

  Chapter Twelve

  Now just about the time that Hattie began experiencing the Empty Nest Syndrome that was created by the departure of Annabella in the Big House and Dominique at home, she received and unwelcomed surprise. Annabella’s cousin, on her mother’s side, Vidalia, was set to arrive for an extended visit. It seemed the girl was causing all sorts of trouble for her parents and they decided to send her to Hattie to be straightened out. Hattie was looking forward to retiring, spending time at home. She felt the Devereaux’s had cooked up this visit to tether her to the family a bit longer. No doubt Vidalia was a bothersome brat, but Hattie found it all too convenient that she had to come all the way across the country to be dealt with appropriately. Surely there was some stern, Colored help in Seattle to take a switch to Vidalia’s narrow rear end. But alas, it was Hattie enlisted to bear the brunt of White folks’ inability or unwillingness to discipline their own children. When Hattie saw the girl sashaying up the promenade, she knew she had her work cut out for her. She had all of the etiquette and upbringing of Annabella and all of the attitude and unyielding manners of Caroline. She had an intense glow about her skin and bone-straight, dark brown hair that fell to her waist. She looked just like Pocahontas in a hoop skirt. Hattie had a good mind to snatch her bald if she was resolved to cause problems while visiting. Hattie had one nerve left and heaven help the poor heathen who dared get on it.

  “Why Hattie, you are looking as lovely as a daisy in springtime. How on earth do you manage to maintain such a youthful appearance?”

  “Because black don’t crack,” Hattie informed the girl.

  “And so witty,” Vidalia responded. “I missed you terribly. Why, the last time I saw you, I was knee-high to a June bug.”

  “And now look at you,” Hattie pretended to be impressed at Vidalia’s growth. “What brings you to town?” Hattie asked rhetorically.

  “Well, my 21 birthday is upon me and I thought it was time to return to my roots and find a nice Southern gentleman with which I can settle down.”

  “That sounds lovely, Vidalia. But, your mother seems to think you are here because you are quite the troublemaker up north.”

  “Hattie, you know full well that my mother thinks any unmarried girl is a troublemaker.”

  Vidalia was speaking the truth. Hattie knew Vidalia’s mother and she was as traditional as they come. Her primary reason for moving the family to Seattle was that she thought the southern heat made girls more susceptible to the advances of boys. She was sure her daughter would cool down if they moved to dreary Seattle. But Vidalia was a Southern girl at heart and the only thing a move north did, if anything, was keep her from spontaneously combusting altogether. So, Hattie was stuck with the little firecracker for as long as it would take for her to find a husband. Hattie knew, however, that the pickings were slim in their narrow town and if any husband were to be found there, he would certainly not be up to the standards of Ms. Vidalia. So as to not give the appearance of not wanting to be bothered with the weary girl, Hattie decided that she would let her find out on her own that there was nothing to marry around these parts. After a few months, the girl would be so ready to go back to Seattle, she wouldn’t bother packing a bag. So, Hattie prepared a room for the girl and made her a fine dinner. Vidalia may have thought she had found Hog Heaven, but Hattie had something else in mind for the girl.

  When Vidalia awakened from her fabulous slumber, she expected to smell warm, buttery waffles and delicious bacon. When she made her way to the kitchen to find out why there was no spread, she was flabbergasted. Hattie had prepared a bucket of water and insisted that Vidalia start mopping the floors.

  “Hattie! What is the meaning of this?”

  “It’s called domestication, Ms. Vidalia. If you hope to ever catch a husband, you must be able to keep house. You see, my dear, I will not be with you once you accept nuptials. A Southern wife is more often than not the domestic help.”

  “This is insane. Why, I have never done housework!”

  “No time like the present, my dear. Get to mopping.”

  Hattie handed Vidalia the mop in an effort to assess the girl’s initial skill level. While she may not have had first-hand experience, she certainly had seen the act performed at some point in her life because she was rather good for a neophyte.

  “Keep up the good work, Vidalia. I have prepared a list of chores for you. Once they are complete, I will make you a delicious lunch.”

  Hattie retired to her room and listened as the poor girl cursed like a sailor. Hattie was tickled. She was going to teach everyone for once and for all. The new creed was that if you came to stay in the Big House, you were going to work. And there was plenty of work to be done. Surprisingly, Vidalia got into the work she was doing and completed many of her chores happily and without much fuss. Hattie honored her commitment and prepared yummy treats for her. But, by the time dinner rolled around, Vidalia was just too tired to eat.

  “I shall go and sit on the porch,” she told Hattie. “Afterwards, I shall retire for the evening.”

  Vidalia went outside and sat on the porch swing in darkness that yielded only to a sliver of moonlight. She looked up at the clear, dark sky and wondered what she was doing in a place where it did not rain every day.

  “I thought you were gone,” an unfamiliar voice called out.

  “I just got here,” she responded, not knowing to whom she was talking.

  “So, The Big Smoke was not everything you thought it would be and now you are back,” the voice continued the dialogue.

  “The Big Rain is more like it and yes, I have returned. Who wants to know about it?” Vidalia called out.

  “Don’t play coy with me, Anna. You are downtrodden and your dreams are shattered. Old Warren is here to pick up the pieces. Despite everything, we are still friends.”

  Vidalia soon realized it was Warrenton, whom she had not seen since she was a young girl. She had the biggest crush on him, but he was always too old for her. She was pleasantly surprised to find that he was still right next door. She now knew that he thought she was Annabella and wasn’t sure if she wanted him to come over and find out otherwise or stay over there and intrigue him with her quips. Soon, Warrenton would decide for her. After a few minutes of silence, she heard footsteps on the porch. She looked up at an impressive silhouette of a man. Just as the slight moonlight struck his forehead, he stopped abruptly.

  “You are not Annabella,” he told her, starring mesmerized.

  “You don’t say?” Vidalia retorted.

  “Who are you?” Warrenton wanted to know.

  “You mean to tell me you don’t remember me, Warrenton. Why, I could never forget you. I had the biggest crush on you growing up. But, I was too young to date. Besides, you always had eyes for Annabella.”

  “Little Vidalia? Is that you?”

  “I’m not so little anymore. I am a grown woman,” she informed him.

  “Why
yes, you most certainly are,” he told her, never breaking eye contact. “You have the most striking brown eyes and hair. Wherever did you get such unusual features?”

  “My great grandmother on my father’s side was a full-blooded Cherokee Indian. She was a princess. He father was the chief of his tribe. So you see, that makes me royalty.”

  “I shall practice my curtsy, dear princess. In the meantime, what are you doing here?”

  Vidalia went on to tell Warrenton about her adventures in The Emerald City. He seemed intrigued and listened intently like no man ever had. He never took his eyes off Vidalia’s face and was smitten with her young, supple beauty. Warrenton had his share of women, but Vidalia was like none other. She was bright-eyed and unspoiled by the disappointments of life. She was not terribly privileged, but she did not want for anything. Unlike Annabella, he thought, she was not an entitled brat who thought the whole world should revolve around her and her virtue. Vidalia seemed easy-going and fun-loving. She did not seem to be a loose girl like Caroline, but she was not afraid to express herself. Warrenton felt comfortable sitting with her and talking for hours. But, after a while, he wondered why she was not being summoned inside the house.

  “Where is Hattie? It seems she would want to keep an eye on a pretty little peach like yourself.”

  “She went home to spend time with her daughter before the girl goes off to college,” Vidalia told him.

  “Ah, yes. Little Dominique. Seems like only yesterday that brilliant little bird was embarrassing me with her advanced knowledge of science. Sometimes we would look up at the stars and she would correct me if I noted the wrong constellation. So, she off to college now? That is wonderful news. But that still doesn’t explain why Hattie left you all alone.”

  “Well, I should say that I earned her trust today. She gave me several chores and I completed them all satisfactorily,” Vidalia explained.

  Warrenton gave a hearty laugh. “That ol’ Hattie. She is not one to waste time instilling discipline and order. I remember once she made me mow the entire lawn. Granted, it was a riding lawn mower, but I should say I was dog-tired. I deserved it too. I was being a bit of a mouthy brat and she wanted to teach me a lesson in humility. My mother and father did not object, either. No one messes with that woman. She’s got too many years of experience on us. So, you must have been a very bad girl at home to be sent here for comprehensive training.”

  “No, nothing out of the ordinary for a 21 year-old woman. My parents just refuse to let me grow up.”

  “My goodness, girl. You are 21 years old? Time sure does fly. Well, I would hate to leave you here all alone. Why don’t you come over to my place and hang out. I promise to be a perfect gentleman.”

  “I should think not, Dear Warrenton. What would people say?”

  “What people?” Warrenton looked around.

  “Well, everyone. Besides, aren’t you betrothed to Annabella?”

  “I am hardly betrothed to Annabella. Whatever was or wasn’t between us is over now. That woman has no claim on Warrenton Bingham Boatwright. And as far as anything that anyone has to say about us, we are two grown people who enjoy each other’s company. Nothing will happen between us that you don’t want to happen. I, madam, am a perfect Southern gentleman.”

  Vidalia was either convinced of Warrenton’s chivalry or too tired to care one way or the other. She followed him across the walkway to his home where she intended to visit for only a few hours. Instead, she ended up staying over several days. Warrenton’s personal chef prepared meals and a housekeeper stopped by every other day. The two were practically inseparable for nearly a week. Vidalia went to the Big House once a day to shower and change clothes. It was on one of her stopovers at the house that she realized she had been missed.

  “Where in tarnation have you been, Missy?” Hattie screamed at the girl. “I’ve been worried sick about you!”

  “Calm down, Hattie. I was with Warrenton. I have been at his house.”

  “At Warrenton’s house? Doing what? Oh, never mind! I don’t even want to know!”

  “It wasn’t like that, Hattie. Warrenton was a perfect gentleman. As a matter of fact, I think I am in love.”

  “In love? With Warrenton?” Hattie began to laugh hysterically. “You are in love with Warrenton? Well, what does Warrenton have to say about that? Matter of fact, what does his fiancée’ have to say about that?”

  Vidalia looked stunned. “Warrenton is not engaged to Annabella. In fact, he said they don’t have any kind of a relationship.”

  “That is so true, my dear. However, Ms. Marigold is a different matter. In fact, the only reason she hasn’t been over his house is because she is busy planning her wedding. But rest assured, after the nuptials, she will be living in the main house. Now, where you will go after that is something you should be thinking about.”

  “You are a liar, Hattie. Warrenton would not deceive me. I shall go ask him right this minute.”

  Vidalia stomped across the lawn and walked back into the house she had been inhabiting for the past several days.

  “Warren, who is Marigold?” Vidalia demanded.

  Warrenton began to stammer incoherently.

  “So, it’s true? You are engaged?” The beautiful girl demanded to know.

  “Vidalia, it’s complicated. It is simply a marriage of convenience. I do not love the woman. In fact, she is blackmailing me into this marriage. It is you that I am falling for. I don’t love her, I swear.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me about her?” Vidalia demanded.

  “I didn’t think you would give me the time of day if I told you. We were having so much fun. It never seemed to be the right time.”

  “So you used me? You deceived me and then you used me and then you were going to dump me when it was time for you to take your vows? What was I? A good time?”

  Vidalia did not wait for an answer. She stormed through the house and clear out the back door. She marched into a wooden shed and returned to the house with a can of gasoline. She began dousing the back of the house with the 5-gallon can. When the can was empty and she was satisfied that the house was sufficiently flammable, she took a match to it. She calmly walked back to the Big House and picked up the telephone. She nonchalantly dialed 9-1-1 and instructed them to send the police for her.

  “I just set my boyfriend’s house on fire,” she told them.

  By the time the authorities arrived, it was too late to save Warrenton’s family home. Onlookers, including Warrenton, stood outside as the police took Vidalia away.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Caroline had returned from yet another trip to Martha’s Vineyard. But this time she brought back a souvenir.

  “I can’t believe you agreed to come here with me, Chad. You barely let me kiss you.”

  “I wanted to see the world through your eyes – your very blue eyes.”

  “It’s not much different from the world through your green eyes,” she assured him.

  “You would be surprised what a difference one shade makes.”

  “You say that, but I don’t really see you as Black.”

  “That’s what you say now, but should we ever experience the kind of racial divide that this country once saw, you and I would be worlds apart, Caroline. My bank accounts are not an equalization mechanism compared to race ideology.”

  “What?” Caroline asked, confused.

  “No matter how rich I am, I will always be Black. Even if I married someone like you, our children would still be Black. It’s the One Drop rule.”

  “One drop is about all you have. For heaven’s sake, Chad, you’re as pale as I am.”

  “That is all I need to set me a world apart from you. So, is that why you like me? Because I am not frightening or intimidating?”

  “I like you because you are handsome, rich, charming, and darn funny.”

  “So, what is your story, then? Why did you bring me here? I’m sure there are a lot of men in this town lining up at your doors
tep, waiting to ask your father for your hand in marriage.”

  “Not exactly,” Caroline looked down.

  “Let me guess. You’re a free spirit and you’ve been ‘free’ with your amorous displays of affection.”

  “I am not a whore,” Caroline refuted.

  “I never said you were.”

  “You think it,” Caroline replied.

  “No, I don’t. I think you are insecure and you are looking for validation and you will do almost anything to get it. If people don’t like you, so what? You don’t have to do anything to make them change their mind. Look, Caroline, you are a great woman. Don’t let anyone make you think differently about yourself. You will know when you’ve met the right person because they will tell you what you don’t want to hear and they will not try to take advantage of you.”

  “So far, the only person I have met that matches that description is you.”

  “As flattering as that is, I don’t think I am the man for you,” Warrenton spoke honestly.

  “Why not? You too good for some poor White trash?” Caroline wanted to know.

  “Uh, no. Caroline, don’t pretend like we are not from two different worlds. In Martha’s Vineyard or France, it would not be as big an issue. But here in the Good Ole’ South, you could come home from a day of shopping to find your beloved husband hanging from a tree.”

  “They most certainly do not do that anymore!”

  “You are more naïve than I thought. Or maybe you know I am telling the truth and you are just trying to convince me.”

  “Why does it have to be this way? I finally find the man of my dreams and just because he is a different race, we can’t be together.”

  “Because that is the way the world is, Caroline. That’s why I have not settled down. All the women I meet are either White, out for a payday, or both. Most Black women think I’m either White or corny, so they don’t want to have anything to do with me. I am trapped between two worlds, neither of which I fully belong.”