“Hattie, Warrenton and I are done, finished, caput! Besides, I have met someone special and I am attending the royal wedding with him this weekend.”
“That’s lovely, Annabella. But you see, there is a problem at home and only you can solve it.”
“I know Warrenton is getting married and I do not care. I am not going to try to stop that God-forsaken wedding,” Annabella pushed back.
“That’s not it, Anna. You see, Warrenton is in the hospital.”
“What on earth for?”
“He is in the mental hospital. He needs someone to vouch for his sanity. As you know, his father recently died and his mother is a former mental patient herself. So, there is no one to vouch for his sanity but you. If you don’t, he could be institutionalized for God knows how long. They may keep him forever.”
“How is this my problem?” Annabella wanted to know.
“Because despite everything, you are his friend. Sadly, you are the only friend he has.”
“What about Marigold? Can’t she vouch for him?”
“Marigold is waiting to marry the richest man in town. Of course she will vouch for him. She will say anything to get him released. They are not going to take her word for it.”
“Hattie, this is crazy. The royal wedding is this weekend and I intend to be there on the arm of a baron. Now, please help me understand why I should choose some two-bit, insecure gigolo who dumped me for some low-life trash over my dashing baron. Please help me understand why it is even fair for you to come all the way here to ask me to do something so utter asinine and selfless. It is beyond me that you would even think I would consider it. I have been searching for this kind of happiness for as long as I can remember and as soon as I find it, you want me to just give it up and go back to that backwoods hellhole and save that idiot from himself? Has it ever occurred to you, to the two of you, that perhaps Warrenton Bingham Boatwright is insane? I mean, look at the choices he’s made. Perhaps he is right where he belongs. That way, his father’s money is safe and out of the paws of that woman. The more I think about it, the more I like the idea of Warrenton being locked up and me being the only person who can save him. Because if it were left up to me, he would rot in hell!”
Chapter Twenty
Warrenton was safely out of the hospital, but he did not like the conditions. He was released into Annabella’s custody and she was designated as his caretaker. She was charged with the task of monitoring him and making sure he didn’t do anything to harm himself until a court could determine his mental state. He was to be evaluated by different psychiatrists and the results of those evaluations submitted to the court. Until then, he was at the mercy of Annabella and he was as opposed to the terms as she was.
“Can someone explain to me how I ended up living with this dote of a man when I had a debonair baron hanging on my every word in London?” Annabella wanted to know.
“It’s what we do for our friends, Annabella. We never know when we will need someone to look after us.”
“I just want know how I ended up being the only friend this man has. I am not even all that fond of him.”
“You lie like a rug, Anna. You love him and you know it. Now, the arrangement may not be the most ideal, but I am sure you and Warrenton can piece out what you need to from this relationship.”
Annabella was resolved to staying in Warrenton’s guest house with him, per the court’s instructions, until his mental health could be evaluated, but she had some very stringent rules. She did not want to give even the appearance of impropriety. She resided on the main level and Warrenton was confined to the upstairs. The domestic help cooked and cleaned for him as they always did, but he was now on a budget. The court restricted his access to his father’s money, pending the evaluation. So, Warrenton Bingham Boatwright was operating on a fixed income for the first time in his life and he did not appreciate it. The only person more put out by the arrangement was Marigold. She was sure that the entire arrangement was Annabella’s doing and she was resolved to not let Annabella come between them. Marigold’s visits were supervised because the court had not determined the stability of Warrenton’s mental state and they wanted to be sure Marigold did not have any undue influence over him. The move put a damper on Marigold’s already shaky wedding plans because now not only did she not have any place to spend Warrenton’s money, she no longer had unlimited access to it. So, for weeks Marigold would come to spend time with Warrenton. As time passed, the visits became fewer and further in between, as well as shorter and more awkward. She began to wonder if Warrenton had concocted the whole thing to get rid of her. But, with the family fortune frozen she could not get a hold of it even if she pursued her previous litigation against him. She was now questioning whether she had gotten the better of Warrenton or not. Everything she schemed on was falling apart and she was going to be left with nothing - which is exactly what she started with. She still had not received the funds from her settlement with Annabella because it was being held in a trust until she settled with Warrenton. So, she had not gotten anything thus far and it appeared that she never would. Her relationship with Warrenton had been based on coercion and deception and now the hand she used to force him was being pinned behind her back.
Chapter Twenty-One
Annabella beamed as she finished reading her letter from the baron. It had been weeks and he had surely not forgotten her. He wrote her a letter each week and she cherished them all. She crafted her own special letters to him, sealed with her signature fragrance. She hoped they still smelled as sweet when they arrived. She wondered how someone so busy, so important, managed to hand write a personal letter each week. It was rare to find someone as old-fashioned as she was, who did not use email or cellular phones. Annabella favored paper and pen to almost any communications medium and she felt like kismet brought her and the baron together. Warrenton always seemed bothered when he entered the kitchen to find her parlaying over one of the letters or writing one back. He did not understand the type of communication they had and wondered if anything could get accomplished with such slow-moving contact.
“You are not getting any younger, Annabella,” Warrenton reminded her. “You should consider a more instantaneous form of communique.”
“I shall keep that in mind when I start taking dating tips from people who get engaged to their extortionists.”
“At least I am engaged. You are no more closer to marriage than you were when you were 10 years-old,” Warrenton told her.
“Yes, and I have you to thank for that. Maybe I should return to London and have you returned to the asylum.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“You don’t know me as well as you think,” Annabella threatened him. “Besides, are you sure you are still engaged? Marigold hasn’t been around much since her access to Daddy Boatwright’s money has been restricted.”
“You are just jealous.”
“Yes, Warren. I am jealous because I am a beautiful, rich socialite who is dating a fabulous baron in London, England. I am green with envy of a trailer-trash tramp who makes a living nose-diving in front of slow-moving vehicles for cash settlements that never pay out. I am blind with rage that I have an eighteen inch waistline and can eat anything I want. I have friends who will fly across the country to make sure that I am happy. Dear God, why hast thou forsaken me?”
Warrenton looked cross. Annabella always got the better of him and he could not match wits with her. What’s more, she was right. She had nothing to be jealous about – except for the obvious. Marigold was engaged to Warrenton and Annabella wasn’t.
“Yes, you have everything. Oh, except me.”
Annabella walked away. She never understood why Warrenton did such things. Maybe he was withholding his affections from her for the sole purpose of tormenting her. If she had him, she would indeed have it all. And Warrenton did not want her to have it. The burning question, though, was why not?
“Don’t walk away from me, Annabella.”
“Who do you think you are?” She wanted to know.
“I am the person who keeps you from thinking too much of yourself,” he told her.
“Is someone paying you to do that? Because they are damned-sure getting their money’s worth!”
“Someone needs to keep you in your place,” he assured her.
“Is that why you broke things off with me?”
Warrenton was taken aback.
“What do you mean?”
“When we went out that night. You had a nice time. I had a wonderful time. The next thing I know, it’s over. Just like that. No explanation, no nothing. You sure put me in my place and made sure I didn’t think too highly of myself. It is very humbling having the carpet ripped from under your strappy, red pumps!”
“That had nothing to do with it,” he tried to convince her and himself.
“It had everything to do with it! You hate me so much that you wanted to make me suffer. Well, mission accomplished. I have never been more hurt or let down than when you dumped me to get engaged to that piece of nothing!”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“You are such a pretty, young girl. Whatever are you doing in here, missy?”
Vidalia did not respond to Eudora’s inquiry. The girl had not spoken a word since being committed to the facility and it was obvious that she was in dire need of psychiatric help. Her family could not bear the thought of someone so young going to prison, so they went with an insanity defense and beseeched the local judge and friend of the family to commit her to the facility where her aunt resided. Vidalia was the youngest patient there and she stood out like a sore thumb, but at least she was with family and maybe she could get some much-needed help to deal with her emotional problems. Burning down someone’s house was not a matter to be taken lightly, but at least she did not hurt anyone. No one, not even Warrenton, believed that she ever intended to hurt anyone. But, she could not get off Scott-free for burning down a historical mansion. Warrenton’s family’s home had been there for centuries, yet Vidalia was able to do what General Sherman himself could not. She never spoke of the incident, not even in defense of herself. It was apparent to most of her doctor’s that Warrenton’s deception was so traumatic that it sent her into a rage and she was not criminally responsible for her actions. However, there were some who felt she was a spoiled brat, use to getting her way. They even went so far as to say she was a manipulative hussy who seduced the man in hopes of marrying him. When she realized that he would not marry such a vamp, she sought to destroy his life. In any event, Vidalia managed to sidestep prison for a milder confinement. She would have to prove that she is mentally stable if she ever hoped to get out of that place. In the meantime, Eudora enjoyed having her around, however silent she was. Eudora was resolved to spend the rest of her life there, but Vidalia had breathed new life, new hope into her. And, Hattie had suddenly expressed an interest in bringing Eudora home.
“Eudora, my time with your family is drawing to a close. I think it’s time you came home to take care of things. Annabella is grown up and out of the house. Old Hattie is getting on up there in years and Mr. Devereaux is not getting any younger. You two need to be spending your twilight years together. Now, you would not be cramping his style, so I don’t want you thinking that. When the time comes for Vidalia to get out of this place, I hope to be wheeling two chairs – not one. This is not your home, Eudora and it’s time you realized that.”
“Hattie, you’re just and old fool. That’s all you are. You dream, dream, dream. All day – that’s all you do. No one wants me home.”
“Eudora, there ain’t nobody to object to you coming home. Mr. Devereaux is going to need someone to talk to in that big, old house and it ain’t going to be me. I have a home, a family. It’s high time I started acting like it. And it’s time you did, too.”
“I’ll take care of you,” Vidalia spoke for the first time.
“Hush up, child. You can’t take care of yourself. Now both of you listen. Get better. Take care of yourselves and each other. Soon, you will both come home and take care of each other. For now, just concentrate on getting better.”
Hattie had given new hope to two fledgling minds that thought their best years were behind them. But, before long, Vidalia began to talk more and Eudora began to dream more. She started thinking about all the things she was going to do in her house when she got home. She thought about new window treatments, new paint. She was more excited than ever and it was all thanks to Hattie.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Caroline wondered what sort of magic or voodoo Hattie was privy to. There she was, as White as she pleased, walking down the main street of what was once the most segregated county in the south with her Black boyfriend and not one word from a single soul. No one even gave them so much as a cross look. Chad was not the wiser, as he did not have those kinds of problems where he lived. Caroline was sure she would return home to find figures shrouded in white hoods posted on her lawn with shotguns. But that did not happen. How could this be? How could an old Black woman prevent an entire town of White people from doing what they damned-well pleased? Although Caroline was curious, she certainly was not going to complain. Hattie had lived up to her end of the deal and Caroline was satisfied with the results. Although Annabella and Warrenton were no closer emotionally than they were before, they certainly were closer in proximity and Caroline thought that might be the problem. The truth is that Caroline felt that despite Annabella’s neurosis, she could still do better than Warrenton. But, she was in no position to judge. Who knows why two people fall in love? Caroline was satisfied with her choices and she was not going to attempt to decide for others what is best for them. She did, however, find Hattie somewhat of a hypocrite, though. On one hand, Hattie thought Caroline and Chad should be able to have a relationship if that’s what they wanted, but when it came to Annabella, she tried to control who Annabella was with. Hattie tried extra hard to force the relationship between Annabella and Warrenton – even to the point of whisking her away from an eligible baron to be with Warrenton. For Caroline’s part, she was done minding other people’s business. She vowed that if other people stay out of her relationship, she would stay out of theirs.
“Do you love me?” Chad asked Caroline impulsively.
“Of course I do,” she reminded him.
“Do you think I could pass for White?” He wanted to know.
“You sure fooled me. And I consider myself the authority on the Caucasian persuasion,” Caroline joked.
“I’m serious, Caroline,” Chad told her.
“Chad, what’s this all about?”
“Caroline, I’m tired of being trapped between my race and my color. Sometimes I think it would be easier if I was just White. I mean, I already look the part and most people tell me I act the part.”
“Sweetie, I’m pretty sure that last part is not a compliment,” Caroline smiled.
“What if we moved some place where no one knows us and got married? We could be a happy, young, White couple.”
“And what happens when our bronzed, bouffant-headed children pop out of my milky-white uterus? The gig will be up, buddy.”
“I don’t need children. I just need you. Besides, I do not wish to curse a child with my bloodline. Let it end with me.”
“Chad, do you hear yourself? This is crazy. Running away? Changing your name? Passing for white? Have you gone mad?”
“Caroline, I know what I want. For the first time in my life, all the things that don’t seem make sense finally do make sense. I want to be with you. That is first and foremost. I accept whatever potential fallout may occur. But, I promise that I will never let any harm come to you. I give you my word, Caroline. You will never have to pay for my decisions.”
“What about my family? What will I tell them?” Caroline went along.
“Tell them you are going away to find yourself, to get in touch with your inner-self. Later, you can tell them that you met someone wonderful and you are staying.”
Caroline looked down. She did not know what to do. She loved Chad, but she was not prepared to leave her family, her life. She knew she had problems at home and she knew they would never accept Chad, but was she willing to give up everything for a man she barely knew?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dominique giggled as she walked across the promenade with her friends. She was a happy and confident college girl with a bright future. Suddenly, the two girls with which she was walking suddenly stopped. The saw a middle-aged woman standing on the grass, staring at Dominique. They didn’t know who she was but when Dominique finally looked up, she knew exactly who the lady was.
“Mom, what are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to see my baby. I miss you.”
“I’m not a baby,” she reminded her mother, looking around to see who else might have heard the woman.
“You are still my baby,” Hattie reminded the child.
“You must have me confused with Annabella. I hardly got the time of day from you.”
Hattie did not know what to make of her daughter’s attitude. She knew Dominique had a certain resentment for her relationship with Annabella, but she had never talked to her mother that way – especially in front of others. She was hoping that one semester away at college had not turned her daughter into a terrible monster. Hattie knew that she had just popped in and surprised the girl, but she had no idea Dominique would react so strongly.
“Is there somewhere we can go and talk?” Hattie asked her daughter.
Dominique hesitated. She looked at her friends with a conciliatory nod. They walked on and Dominique stayed behind with her mother.
“Why are you here, mother?” she asked the woman as they walked towards the dormitories.
“Like I said, I just wanted to see you. You don’t call anymore. I even bought a computer and had Caroline set up an email address. You won’t even respond to my emails. I came to find out what is the matter with you.”
An Old Fashioned Southern Romance Novel Page 11