by Dara Girard
"Has Mrs. Lind made her batch of doilies this year?" Mother Shea asked. Mrs. Lind was known for making intricately crocheted and embroidered doilies using finely woven cotton, or silk thread.
"Not yet."
"Oh, how I love her doilies. I have a place that will be perfect to display them."
"I'll make sure she makes a special one just for you."
"Thank you for your kindness. I'm not one to ask for anything because although I live alone I have many friends, but I do love her doilies."
Mrs. Barnett moved forward to approach her daughter, but Mother Shea's words stopped her. "I notice you have Janet in blue."
"Yes." She shrugged. "One can only hope."
"I noticed her eyeing the Original."
"She's just curious like the rest of us."
"He is very good looking."
"I hadn't noticed."
"She did."
"It's nothing," Mrs. Barnett said, pressing down a flicker of fear. She toyed with the collar of her dress.
"I'm sure it is, but it would be nice to see her safely married." Mother Shea leaned in closer. "It is my understanding that Jeffrey likes a special type of blue. Turquoise. Just like this." She held up a cloth necklace with a small turquoise stone in the middle.
"Really? But Sister Daniels did say—"
Mother Shea moved her hand in a quick dismissive gesture. "You notice that her niece is wearing this precise color blue herself."
Mrs. Barnett saw the young woman then pursed her lips. "I should have known."
"But that can be easily remedied. I don't need this anymore."
Mrs. Barnett turned to her stunned. "You mean to give it to me?"
"Yes."
She reached for it then stopped. "But it's a necklace. My husband is against any large adornments."
Mother Shea lowered her gaze and stroked the pendant. "I've heard that Janet's schooling may be putting funny ideas into her head, like leaving your house and living on her own." She glanced up. "Do you want to see Janet married or not?"
Mrs. Barnett stiffened in fear. How had Mother Shea found out about Janet wanting to move out? Probably Mrs. Lind told someone, who told someone else, she didn't dare think of who else knew. She stared at the necklace, longing evident in her gaze.
"Times are changing Sister. If we want our girls to compete against those with their crafty worldly allurements they must have their own special charms. Don't you agree?"
Mrs. Barnett grasped the necklace. "Yes."
Mother Shea smiled. "Put it on her as soon as you can."
"I will do it right now."
"You know I have a very large sitting room. Only two doilies will get lost in it. I've always wanted a lovely table runner too."
"You will not be disappointed."
"Thank you," Mother Shea said. "You're so generous because I am too modest to ever ask."
* * *
Janet watched the festivities with an artistic eye noting the elaborate way the ballroom had been decorated. Colorful ribbons, streamers, and large helium balloons draped the windows. Bright red damask tablecloths covered round tables, dressed up with fine white chinaware, and small round glass bowls, filled with live flowers floating in red-colored water, provided artful centerpieces. It was a boisterous affair with lots of people and although few people danced (though no one from their church because they didn't believe in dancing) the musical ensemble played an exciting mixture of upbeat classical music, intertwined with several recognizable Caribbean tunes.
Her gaze turned to the lavish feast, a buffet bursting with an assortment of familiar dishes such as jerk chicken, fried fish, cassava cup cakes, some unfamiliar dishes, and a wide assortment of desserts, including sliced banana sweets. Waiters, wearing tuxedos and white gloves, stood ready to assist. Off to the side a group of young children were playing to their own tune, singing a favorite childhood song "Brown Girl in the Ring", and laughing hilariously at the various dance movements each girl introduced.
Her quiet thoughts were violently interrupted when something wrapped around her neck threatening to strangle her.
"Don't gasp like that," Mrs. Barnett said. "It's very unattractive."
Janet coughed trying to get her breath back then finally wheezed, "You nearly choked me."
Mrs. Barnett clasped the necklace then stood in front of her. She patted the stone in place satisfied. "There. Much better."
Janet touched the necklace confused. "But Daddy—"
"Won't mind. Mother Shea gave it to me. She'd never give you something improper to wear."
"No, but—"
"Don't you trust your mother?"
Janet sighed knowing that was the end of the argument. Yes, she trusted her mother, but Mother Shea was another issue. However, she knew to keep her suspicions quiet.
"I happen to know that Jeffrey likes this particular color blue," Mrs. Barnett said leaving no room for discussion.
"It's too tight." Janet reached up to stretch it.
Mrs. Barnett slapped her hand away. "You're just not used to it. Stop fiddling."
Francine approached them. "I saw one like that at the museum. It's called a choker."
"It's aptly named," Janet said.
Mrs. Barnett glanced around looking for her two legged prey. "A gathering of women always makes a man nervous. Francine, go entertain someone else with your trivia. And fix your face. You're not pretty enough to pout so don't try." Once Francine was gone Mrs. Barnett said, "Why are you standing here alone?"
Janet adjusted the choker with a sigh. "I didn't do it on purpose."
"There aren't enough men," Mrs. Barnett said in disgust as she surveyed the room. "I see Jeffrey. Why is he talking to Valerie instead of you?"
"Maybe because he likes her."
"He'll like you too if you give him a chance."
"I've already tried to speak to him, remember?"
"Try again."
"I'll wait for my chance."
"Chance is merely a well orchestrated opportunity. You never wait for it. And I can see he's ready to leave her. Good. Now it's your turn. Oh no, that Anita Maxwell has gotten to him first. Wait... oh he's going to Beverly to give his congratulations." They both watched Jeffrey approach Beverly and Janet saw how her sister's face lit up. She glanced at her mother who visibly looked concerned, then her gaze fell on Brother Jerome, but he was too self satisfied to notice. The knot in her stomach began to ease until she saw Mother Shea's keen, observant gaze and knew that Beverly had to be very careful.
Chapter 10
Jeffrey flashed a warm grin as he took her hand. "I want to offer you my congratulations."
"Thank you," Brother Jerome said before Beverly could reply.
Undeterred Jeffrey continued clasping Beverly's hand. "It's been a long time."
Again Brother Jerome spoke for her. "Yes, it is amazing how time passes. Time is such a fluid thing and runs through our lives like water. I once read somewhere that 'The time which we have at our disposal every day is flexible...'
"Elastic," Jeffrey corrected recognizing the quote from Proust.
Brother Jerome didn't hear him. "And the passion we feel makes it bigger..."
"Expands it."
"Correct. Expands it. That's my favorite quote."
"You know so many quotes," Beverly said, looking directly at Brother Jerome. "You are very clever."
Brother Jerome patted her on the shoulder as he would a beloved pet. He beamed from her praise, always taking special pride when someone noticed his intellect. His father never did. "I have many years behind me and have learned that knowledge is the victor over ignorance. In time you too will develop a fine mind."
Before Jeffrey could speak, Beverly looked at her intended and said, "You must remember to drink something before your speech. It is very important that you do not sound hoarse."
Brother Jerome grasped his throat as though it were about to shrivel up from lack of moisture. "Yes, of course. Excuse me." He rushed away.
>
Jeffrey sat beside her. "You handled that well."
"I don't know what you mean," she said looking innocent until a smile touched her lips. A smile that made his heart ache and introduced feelings of regret he hadn't known were still there.
"May I ask a favor?" she asked.
"Yes."
"May I have my hand back?"
"I'm sorry." Jeffrey quickly released it surprised that he'd held it for so long without noticing. It had felt so natural and right in his. He lowered his gaze. "It has been a long time."
"Yes."
"There's another quote about time that I remember." He lifted his gaze and stared deep into her eyes. "Time is too slow for those who wait."
Beverly grinned remembering the Van Dyke quote from school. "Too swift for those who fear."
"Too long for those who grieve."
"Too short for those who rejoice."
His gaze held hers. "But for those who love, time is eternity."
Beverly turned away, her hands trembling in her lap.
He resisted the urge to cover them with his own. "I'm sorry I never wrote."
"You were too busy with your adventures." She looked at him and smiled. "Besides we were childhood friends. We are adults now."
"Yes." There was so much he wanted to say but time was short and he could see Brother Jerome making his way back to them. "I was surprised to hear about your engagement."
"My engagement surprised all of us."
"I think—"
"Now I feel refreshed," Brother Jerome announced again placing his hand on Beverly's shoulder.
Jeffrey looked at Brother Jerome's empty hands annoyed that the older man had neglected to get Beverly anything to drink. He turned to her. "Would you like me to get you something?"
"No," Brother Jerome said quickly, recognizing his blunder. "I will get it for you. After all I might as well get used to my duties as your husband." He walked away.
"You didn't need to send him off again," Beverly said. "I'm perfectly fine."
"But he should have brought you something to drink. I know I would have. You'd never be forgotten if—" Jeffrey bit his lip. "You two don't seem to have much in common."
"We have enough in common."
"Like what?"
"We love our families, our church and our ways."
"It's a new time Beverly some ways have changed."
"Not in Old Hamsford."
"I've seen the world. A world where fathers and churches don't determine your destiny."
"I see."
"Old Hamsford can't stay this way forever. It has to change. And it will."
"Well, it's not going to change right now."
"And if Brother Jerome were to take you away from Hamsford, what will you have in common?"
"We will find other things. Probably children."
Jeffrey's gaze pierced hers as though he could see into her soul. "Would you still marry him if there was someone else?"
A look of fear crossed her face. "Don't ask me a question like that."
"Why not?"
"Because it's too late."
"Is it?"
Brother Jerome thrust a glass in her hand; a few drops fell to the floor. "There you are, my darling. You look a little pale. This will put color in your cheeks."
She absently took the glass and said, "Thank you, my dear."
Beverly's quiet but clear term of endearment hit Jeffrey like an anvil. He swallowed. "I wish you both lots of happiness," he said in a curt tone before walking away.
* * *
Janet weaved through the crowd trying to stay out of her mother's sight and found Valerie at the banquet table. She made a small plate, although she wasn't hungry, and winked at her friend across the table. "I saw you talking to Jeffrey."
"Yes, but he spoke to Beverly longer."
Janet frowned. "You noticed that too?"
"Everybody noticed."
"Except Brother Jerome."
"Yes, except him. Thank goodness."
"I doubt he'd notice an angel sitting on his head unless it introduced itself and said it knew God personally." Janet lifted a Jamaican meat patty and took a bite.
"You're not being fair."
"I'm not trying to be," Janet said then she made a face.
Valerie laughed then moved from the other side of the table. "It's probably better that he doesn't notice too much."
Janet shrugged, trying to make light of a matter that was serious. "They used to be old friends. They're just becoming reacquainted."
Valerie sent her a significant look. "Don't try to deceive me. I saw exactly what you saw. They like each other very much."
Janet let her gaze fall and kicked a wayward crumb. "Yes, well he is a very likeable person."
"Too likable," Valerie said concerned.
Janet looked at her surprised. "What do you mean?"
She dragged Janet to a corner where they could not be overheard. "Beverly should marry Brother Jerome as quickly as possible and not think about it. She should focus on how fortunate she is and think of nothing else."
"How fortunate she is?" Janet scoffed. "But he's—"
"Rich, Jamaican and in the Church. He will give her status and security. That's all that matters."
"So you think they're well matched?"
"They are equals. His money affords her youth and beauty and vice versa."
"But his mind—"
"He has his Master's degree. It doesn't matter in what," she added before Janet could argue. "It shows that he's not as feeble minded as you pretend to think."
"Pretend?"
"He's a little pretentious, but he's not cruel. He has a good heart. Think of all the charities he's involved in at church."
"The ones he doesn't add his name to?"
"At least he contributes," Valerie said with patience. "Beverly will make him happy and by marrying him she will make your parents happy too."
"And what about her happiness?"
"If she focuses on the right things she will be happy too. Happiness is a matter of choice." When her friend continued to frown, Valerie took her hand. "Janet, stop thinking like an artist and be sensible. It's easier to form a partnership with someone who knows what he wants. Everyone knows Brother Jerome wants a wife, we all only suspect Jeffrey does. So we have to resort to the art of persuasion."
Janet glanced at Valerie's dress. "That's why you wore blue."
"As did you."
"Against my will," Janet said looking down at her raspberry tart.
"I bet if Jeffrey Farmer asked you to marry him you'd say yes."
Janet looked at him. He was attractive and she knew he'd be easy to live with. His sisters would be a pain, but she'd learn to tolerate them. He passed the JCE test with flying colors and wouldn't be as demanding as most of the men she knew. He was one ticket to freedom. "Maybe," she admitted, then let her gaze travel to his friend. She'd never seen a man so beautifully made. His dark suit only emphasized his wide shoulders, small waist and impressive build. Men were created for a lot more than sketching, she remembered Ramani say. A slight grin touched her lips. Watching him, Janet could imagine the various different uses. "I could say yes to him." She shook her head, embarrassed by her thoughts. That was impossible. She turned to her friend.
Valerie stared at her open mouthed.
"I said that out loud, didn't I?"
Valerie nodded.
Janet burst into laughter. "Relax. I was joking."
Valerie blinked several times. "You shouldn't joke about things like that. Your parents would have a fit if they heard you."
Janet dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. "It's never going to happen so don't worry." She sighed. "Now back to Jeffrey. It still seems unfair."
"Unfair or not, he's a definite prospect. However, there's one minor problem."
"What?"
"Although he may be in the church he's not a part of our church. That makes things uncertain." Valerie looked at something in
the distance. "What is your mother doing?"
Janet looked at her mother who was making gestures towards Jeffrey. "She doesn't like me standing alone."
"You're with me."
"You're a woman, you don't count. Excuse me while I try my best to disappear." Janet dashed into the coat closet, certain she'd found the perfect hiding spot. She sat with her plate precariously balanced on her lap, thrilled that she wouldn't have to deal with any distractions when she heard Jeffrey's voice.
"Frederick, what are you doing out here all by yourself? Come on and have some fun. I'm your friend. I can't leave you out here all alone. You look pathetic."
"I'm fine," a cultured African-British voice replied. "But you have to join in. People will think you don't like them."
"So what?" he said with a note of scorn. "I don't care what people think. Especially these people. I can see why you left here the first moment you could."
"It's not really so bad," Jeffrey said. "The people may seem a bit provincial, but they're not so bad. Not all of Hamsford is like the church set."
"Provincial? A person from a small town of less than twelve thousand I call provincial. A group of eight thousand people who all come from the same Jamaican parish and the same ten families, borders on in-breeding."
Jeffrey laughed. "That's not fair. There are nearly 20,000 residents here and not all of them have Jamaican heritage, although most do. I know it seems strange to you, but that's how it is here. And we're not all related. We have distinct family groups."
"You can tell the difference? Half the girls—I use the term loosely—are wearing the same dress."
"I don't notice dresses, I notice faces and there are plenty of pretty ones. Fashion isn't a big deal here."
"Neither is education. There's no one I'd want to talk to. They all seem to have read only one large book and even that, not very well."
"No," Jeffrey admitted. "But not everyone can be a theologian, Frederick; however, they are strong in their beliefs. If you'd give them a chance they'd open up."
"And why do they keep calling me Durand? I've told them my name is Frederick."
"It's a sign of respect. Those in the church are called Brother or Sister. Those who've left but are still part of the community like myself, are referred to by their first name. But outsiders like you, are called by your surname. Close friends of similar age can be referred to by their first names. It helps people to know the structure of things."
