“That’s what Sara tells us,” he replied. “Remember, ‘It’s tradition.’”
***
The climb up and down took over an hour, but it had been well worth it. As they reached the ground, all six were complaining of aching legs, and all six were exclaiming about the view from the crown.
Katherine stopped to put a new roll of film into her camera.
“Took a photograph from the top?” Steven asked.
“Of course!”
Off to the left was Ellis Island, the initial point of entry for so many immigrants in the late eighteen hundreds. Katherine wondered what it had been like to sail into New York harbor, past the Statue, on your way to a new home.
“We can have our picnic over there.” Becky’s voice interrupted Katherine’s thoughts, as she pointed to a grassy area that sloped down toward the water.
They all agreed and opened their backpacks. Katherine had a cloth to spread on the grass, and Becky had packed fried chicken and slaw. Will had Cokes, and Sara brought dessert.
As they settled in to lunch, Katherine turned to Will with a question. “How long have you and Sara been dating? Four years?”
“About that long. We had a class together senior year. Sara saw me on the first day and chased me for two weeks, begging for a date.”
“In your dreams!” Sara laughed. “Let me tell you what really happened. We did have a class together, Television Advertising, a real killer. On the first day of class, Will saw me across the room and changed his seat so that he could flirt with me during class.”
“Not true! Someone had already claimed that desk.”
“He talked the entire period. It was so annoying!” Sara looked at Will and smiled. “Then he followed me across campus to the cafeteria. I finally gave him my phone number just to shut him up.” She shook her head. “Then he started to call.”
“Well, duh,” Becky said. “What did you expect?”
“It was Thursday. He asked me to go out on Friday. When I said I was busy, he asked about Saturday. Then, he asked about Sunday afternoon.”
“She was just playing hard to get. She was in love.”
“And you’re full of it. I gave in a week later.” She smiled. “Things did work out well, though.”
“How about you, Anthony?” Katherine asked. “When did you meet Becky? That was senior year too, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, I spent the night in her apartment. We got to know each other very well.”
“Becky?”
“Let’s tell the whole story.” She popped Anthony on the shoulder. “It was the summer before senior year. I was doing my internship in Philadelphia. My roommate, Jennie, is Anthony’s sister, and he was going to stay at our apartment one night.”
Anthony interrupted. “When she saw me, it was love at first sight, and she ripped the clothes off my body.”
“He has a really good fantasy life. Honestly.” Becky rolled her eyes. “We were expecting him to reach the apartment just before dinner, but he arrived early. He stopped at Jennie’s office and she gave him a key. Well, I came home, didn’t know he was there, and I was standing in the living room reading a letter from my mother. He had taken a shower. He walked up behind me with a towel wrapped around him and said, ‘Hello.’ I jumped and whipped around, ready to attack.”
“Instead, she was so overcome by my good looks that she yanked my towel off and—”
“He was dripping water on the floor, and I slipped and fell. As I reached out to catch myself, my hand caught the towel.”
“And the rest is history.”
“That’s right—the pain in his stomach where I kicked him and the marks on his face where I scratched him.”
“Anthony?” Sara was laughing. “Is that what happened, or is Becky trying to cover?”
“Pretty much.” He laughed. “Pretty much. I do prefer my version though.”
“How about the two of you?” Will asked Steven. “You just met a couple of months ago?”
Katherine looked at Steven, curious what his answer would be after hearing the other two guys share their stories.
“We’ve known each other for over ten years. Shared hotel rooms in Scotland for a couple of weeks.”
“Come on now.”
They told the story, ending with dinner on Katherine’s birthday.
“Becky thought Steven was going to be that guy you sometimes see painting in the park.” Katherine turned to Steven. “She was properly impressed when I told her where you worked.”
“I wouldn’t say impressed,” Becky began.
“Yes you were,” Sara said. “You were speechless! Anthony can tell us how unusual that is.”
“So the two of you are engaged? You’re going to get married?”
“We said maybe. Definitely, maybe!” Katherine took Steven’s hand.
Becky laughed. “No maybe about it, if you ask me. It’s just definitely. She’s already planning the wedding, Steven. Two maids of honor, seven bride’s maids, flower girls. You’d better watch out!”
“No problem.” Steven smiled and squeezed Katherine’s hand. “No problem at all.”
Richmond
The night before the symposium at the Richmond Museum, Steven sat at dinner with Emma and John Middleton at their home in Hamilton.
He leaned back, hand on his stomach. “One of the best dinners I’ve eaten in a long time. Simply delicious.”
“Why, thank you, Steven.” Emma began to collect the dishes. “Why don’t we move into the den for dessert?”
As Steven and John sat down in the den, Emma brought bowls of ice cream.
“We’ve been talking about your work and about the exhibit,” Emma said as she handed Steven a bowl. “Tell me about your other activities. How is Katherine doing?”
“She doesn’t beat around the bush, does she?” John laughed.
Steven smiled. “Katie seems to be doing well. She appears to like her job, loves New York.”
“More than she did a couple of months ago, I’ll wager.”
Steven looked down to hide the flush he felt creeping into his cheeks. “I certainly hope so, Emma.”
“Well, I know so. I have inside information.”
“I understand that Katie’s mother wants her to move back to Hamilton.”
“Of course she does,” Emma exclaimed. “We’d all like to see more of Katherine. Alice Jackson is more vocal about it than the rest of us. I suppose you would expect that from her mother, though. You know, Alice didn’t want Katherine to go to med school. Really saw no point in college, except as a place to find a husband. She wants Katherine to come home, get married, and have children—Alice had planned to have at least three grandchildren by this time, but neither daughter has cooperated.”
“Emma,” John began.
“I’m just saying. I don’t know what she expected from Katherine. Salutatorian in high school, honors from UVA, and Alice thinks she would be happy keeping house. It’s not the fifties anymore.”
“There is a man who claims he is going to marry Katie. What’s his name? Bill Wilson? Who is he?”
“He’s an attorney in town, went to high school with Katherine.” Emma wrinkled her nose. “They dated a couple of times—before he assaulted her.”
“He did what?” Steven covered his mouth as he choked on his ice cream.
“Emma, don’t be ugly. He didn’t actually harm her,” John cautioned.
“I’m simply reporting what happened.” She turned back to Steven. “They came home from a date. Her parents were at a party. He began to make advances, and she broke two of his ribs.”
“You’re joking.”
“Not at all. She said her father had taught her what to do in such a situation.”
“Steven, this is a warning, you know!” John chuckled.
Steven raised his hands in mock surrender. “Warning taken.”
“Their relationship cooled after that.”
“Imagine.”
“Bill does tell peop
le that he and Katherine are going to be married, but I know of no one who takes him seriously. Katherine tells me that she has seen him maybe a couple of times in the past two years. He did pitch a fit when he found she was taking a job in New York. I believe that, deep down, he’s a mean little man, only out for himself. I’m sure Katherine realizes that.”
Emma placed her empty bowl on the table.
“You’ll get to meet Katherine’s parents tomorrow night. They support the Museum and they would be at the reception in any case, but I’m thinking that Alice Jackson wouldn’t think of missing the opportunity to see you!”
***
The auditorium at the Richmond Museum was full, with several people standing. Steven’s presentation was based on the differences between red figure and black figure painting in classical Greek art. His topic was, actually, fairly elementary, but a large portion of the exhibit was devoted to examples of the two types of pottery, and Steven had brought in several examples of each as illustrations. He discussed both differences in the techniques that were used in the painting, as well as the differences in typical subject matter.
Most of the audiences at such symposia were art students and professors from local colleges. Of course, other people, some who worked in the field, others who did not, would also attend. Steven was particularly interested in those in this last group, and after his lectures, he always tried to meet as many of them as he could, to encourage their continued interest in art.
Today, there were a couple of historians who attended because of their interest in the early Greek period, and one lady who was of Greek descent and was interested in almost anything concerning her ancestors. One, a middle-aged man who worked as a potter, wanted to learn more about his profession.
As Steven left the auditorium, he noticed an older woman who had been in the audience. She was standing off to one side of the lobby. She started to walk toward him and then stopped, as though she was uncertain whether she should approach.
Steven decided to speak to her, at least to thank her for attending.
“Hello. You were in the auditorium just now, weren’t you?” He smiled.
“Yes, yes I was, Dr. Richardson.”
“Are you interested in ancient Greek art?”
“No, not really.” She hesitated. “I am interested in an old friend of my daughter who surfaced after ten years and began to squire her around New York.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, neither friendly nor hostile.
“You must be Katie’s mother.” Steven reached to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Jackson. She told me I might see you in Richmond. I thought tonight, though, at the reception.”
“My husband and I will be at the reception, but…well, Dr. Richardson, I’ve never met you before, but as a mother, I’m always concerned. I mean, I’m always interested in my daughters’ friends. They say that I’m overprotective—and I probably am—but I do worry about them. Why, I remember when my younger daughter, Mary, was first in college—”
She stopped, suddenly. “I’m running on, aren’t I? Katherine would kill me if she knew I was talking with you like this. I was deciding whether…well, I wanted to ask if you would have lunch with me. So we could talk.” Her voice trailed off.
Steven wasn’t sure what Katie had told her mother about him. He certainly had not told his mother that he was seeing a woman to whom he had been engaged for a decade.
“As it happens, I’m free for lunch, Mrs. Jackson. I would love to get to know you better.”
He thought that she seemed a bit surprised that he had agreed.
“Alstead’s is not far from the Museum,” she said. “It’s one of the best restaurants in town.”
***
Alstead’s Restaurant was bright and airy, with large clear windows, multi-colored tablecloths, white wicker furniture, and murals of famous gardens painted on the walls. Steven and Katie’s mother were seated in the Versailles Room, with a painting of Marie Antoinette’s garden on the wall behind them.
“They are famous for their chicken salad,” Katie’s mother told Steven as the waiter handed them menus.
“Chicken salad sounds good to me.”
They placed their orders and the waiter walked away.
“Tell me about yourself, Dr. Richardson. Did Katherine say that you are from Georgia?”
Steven told Katie’s mother that he was, indeed, from Georgia, having lived in the small town of Loganville until about his eighth birthday and then in suburban Atlanta.
“Back then, Loganville seemed to be much farther from Atlanta than it does today,” he said. “There was not much there, not even a traffic light. Before long, though, I expect it will be just another suburb.”
“I know what you mean. Hamilton is practically a part of Richmond now. Not at all like when Katherine was young.”
He had attended the University of Georgia, he told her. He described Oxford University, going to school in England, working there for a couple of years.
“I’ve been at the Metropolitan Museum for just over two years now.”
“You’ve had an interesting life.”
“I have.” Steven nodded.
The waiter interrupted, bringing their lunch.
Steven tasted his salad. “Their reputation is well deserved.” He took another mouthful, and they ate in silence for several minutes.
“Now, tell me about yourself,” Steven said. “Are you originally from Hamilton?”
“Yes, I’ve lived there all of my life. It’s a wonderful town. I’m happy we were able to raise our children there. You know, we still live in the house where I grew up.”
When she mentioned that Katie had grown up in her mother’s childhood home, Steven asked what Katie was like as a child.
“She was the sweetest little girl! Loved to have tea parties. She would ask me to make teacakes, and she would invite her friends over. She’d serve Earl Grey tea, even when she was a little girl. She and her friends would drink from little cups, pretending they were ladies at afternoon high tea, and they felt so grown up.” She shook her head, smiling.
“She changed when she was older. Became something of a tomboy. She and Marci Kelly would run off into the woods, climb trees, hunt for buried treasure, she told me.”
Steven chuckled. “I can see her doing that.”
The waiter arrived and cleared the table.
“Order the chocolate cake for dessert. It’s so good that I sometimes have Thomas, Katherine’s father, pick up an entire cake for me to serve when I am having a party. Everyone knows it’s from Alstead’s, and no one minds at all.” She handed the dessert menu to him.
“Once, when Katherine was twelve, I think—twelve or thirteen—she got into a fight at school. Can you imagine? A little boy kissed her and she gave him a bloody nose. They were both sent to the principal’s office. Both of them were crying, and he called the parents. I was in Richmond, so Thomas went to get her. He said that Katherine was petrified. He took her home, told her to wash her face and change her clothes. He asked her what had happened.”
She sipped her iced tea. “He told her not to fight at school, took her to the diner for a hamburger and a milkshake. The next weekend, he taught her how to defend herself.”
“I understand that she had an opportunity to use her skills once.”
“Oh, you mean with Bill? Yes, she walloped him good. Her father was really proud of her. I was just happy she didn’t shoot him.”
“Sh-shoot him?” Steven stammered.
“Oh, yes. When her father reached the house, Bill was cowering in a corner. Katherine had found Thomas’s revolver, loaded it, and was pointing it at Bill. Some of the boys were afraid of her after the story spread around town.”
“I guess so.” Steven laughed. “What was she like in high school?”
“She studied hard, played tennis. Won a scholarship to UVA.” Alice Jackson reached in her pocketbook and pulled out a small photograph album. “Here, I have pictures.”
She
moved some of the dishes out of the way and leaned across the table so that he could see while she slowly turned the pages. “I just have a few, three or four of each of my children. Here, she is dressed for her senior prom. Wasn’t she beautiful?”
“Yes she was. Looks much the same today.”
“She is really a nice person, Steven. I mean, Dr. Richardson.”
“Steven is fine.” He looked in her eyes. “Yes. Katie—Katherine—is a nice person.”
“Of course, you know that. I do worry about her, not being married, and I do wish she lived closer. Mothers always hate it when their daughters move away.” She looked at her watch. “Oh, look at the time. I know you need to get back, Steven. Thank you so much for having lunch with me. I did enjoy it.”
***
The telephone rang as Katherine reached home, late that afternoon. She rushed over to answer before the caller hung up.
“Katherine?”
“Mother, what is it?” Katherine and her mother had not spoken since their call following the television program and Katherine was still angry. “Rumors about me still flying around Hamilton? Mrs. Howard in a tizzy at afternoon tea?”
“Katherine, please don’t be angry with me. I was out of line when I called you. I’m sorry.”
“Okay.” Katherine sighed. “You’re forgiven. What’s up?”
“I had lunch with Steven today.”
“With my Steven?”
“Yes, with your Steven.”
“Mother, what did you say to him?”
“I went to his presentation this morning. I really enjoyed it. You know, I majored in Art History, years ago at Mary Baldwin. His lecture made me feel like I was back in college again.”
“Mother, what did you say to him?”
“We just had a nice lunch, a pleasant conversation. He told me about himself. You didn’t tell me that he’s published two books. I told him a little about me, and we spent the rest of the time discussing you.”
Katherine felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. “Mother, what did you discuss?”
The Handfasting Page 11
