by Dara Girard
"Sounds old fashioned."
"It is, but the younger ones are easier to talk to and there are plenty of young women here."
Frederick glanced at Beverly. She stood out not only because she was the most beautiful woman in the room but her green dress was a nice reprieve from the river of blue. "The only interesting woman is engaged."
"Yes, Beverly is wonderful." Jeffrey sighed, a hint of regret in his voice. "Perhaps I should have come back sooner."
Frederick sent him a sharp glance. "For what?"
"Nothing." He snapped his fingers as an idea came to him. "I know who you could talk to. Her sister."
Janet stiffened.
"Which one?" he said without interest. "She has lots of them."
"Just four. Janet is second to Beverly in age and looks. She is someone I know you would find very interesting. I'd wanted to introduce you earlier. She's studying at the university and she's very talented." Jeffrey surveyed the room trying to spot her. "That's funny, she was here earlier. She was wearing a—"
"Blue dress," Frederick said bored. "Just like all the others. I've already met her."
Janet leaned closer intrigued.
Jeffrey stared at him surprised. "You have?"
"Not formally, but I saw her."
"Where? When?"
"About a week ago at the University. I was meeting someone and then these papers blew into my path. I saw a girl struggling to get them so I decided to help. I saw what they were by accident and felt like a pervert when I handed them over. I gave her some half-baked compliment and she denied the pictures were hers and pointed out Janet. So your little Hamsford girl may have talent, but it's coupled with a dirty mind."
"What?"
"She'd drawn nudes in positions that would make the Kama Sutra turn red."
"That can't be right," Jeffrey stammered certain his friend was talking about someone else. "Janet is entirely pure. She's an artist. There must be an explanation for her drawings."
"Her body may be untouched, but her mind certainly isn't. I know what I saw and I know what she's like. When she isn't throwing herself in your path or piling her plate with food, she is gossiping with that woman over there." He pointed to Valerie who was talking with her mother. "No other man has spoken to her and I don't intend to be the first."
Jeffrey shook his head. "You're wrong about her. First off, she's majoring in Art History and plans to work for a museum or art institution after she graduates. She's—"
"Do I look drunk?"
"No. You never get drunk."
"Exactly and I never lower my standards."
"I think your standards are too high."
"Only because you don't have any. You enjoy everything and everyone."
"I guess it's my nature," Jeffrey said without offense. "I like people."
"Then go and enjoy them and don't worry about me."
Jeffrey left his friend and Janet left her hiding place eager to find Valerie.
Valerie stared at her in disbelief when Janet finished her story. "Did he really say that?"
"I was paraphrasing. What he actually said was worse. I can't believe that for a moment I was actually attract... I was wrong. I should have known better. Originals always think they're so superior. He is clueless about my work, it's mostly abstract. Yes, some of the sketches were from my live figure drawing classes, but they were hardly obscene. He's the one with the filthy mind. Besides, who is he to be so high and mighty? You'd think he'd come from a continent where women never went topless."
"It was a simple misunderstanding."
"That I hope he keeps to himself. Could you imagine if anyone overheard him talking about my portfolio? I'd kill him if he ever let my father hear him."
"Don't worry, he hasn't spoken to anyone except the Farmers so you're safe."
"I'm glad he doesn't pass the JCE test. Now I have a perfectly good reason to hate him."
Valerie shook her head. "No you won't. Hate is a cruel and dangerous emotion."
"True," Janet said suddenly feeling ashamed. "I'll just strongly dislike him. Who could possibly like a man who can't tell the difference between art and pornography? You'd think a man who appears to be cultured would be able to make the distinction. I can't believe he said I had a dirty mind."
"He didn't mean for you to overhear him."
"But I did! And I'm glad – I have never in my life met anyone so arrogant and haughty. But you know what? Pride comes before a fall. And from where he's standing I hope he falls far and hard."
Fortunately, Janet's anger didn't last long. She was a young woman with a sense of humor and after talking to Valerie, she spent the rest of the evening entertaining others with her tale of the snotty Original and his dismissal of her—leaving out the particular reason why—and soon everyone agreed that the Original was a very unpleasant individual and best ignored.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, can I please have your attention," Brother Jerome said, standing at the podium holding a microphone.
Valerie approached Janet. "He prepared a speech?"
"Of course he prepared a speech. He has an audience doesn't he? How come men aren't encouraged to keep their mouths shut like women are?"
"Because someone has to listen."
And listen they did as Brother Jerome droned on about his blessings and the fact that God had selected the most beautiful woman in Hamsford to be his wife. And then he went on to tell everyone about Mother Shea's dream, not wanting anyone to think it wasn't an ordained union. And just in case some residents had not heard, he spent another ten minutes going into detail about his considerable financial blessing and the property he had acquired following the death of a relative.
"Don't frown, Janet," Valerie said in a low voice. "He's going to be your brother in law."
"I know. The thought makes me wish this choker were tighter."
Everyone applauded when he was finished. Mr. Barnett came up to Janet. "He's not a fine speaker, but he'll have to do." He paused then ripped her necklace off. "What's that rubbish round your neck?" He demanded holding it out to her.
Janet could feel a trickle of blood slide down her back but she didn't move. "Mother Shea told Dee-dee I should wear it."
"And no one asked me?" He spun on his heel. "We'll talk when we get home."
Chapter 11
"So what's your report, Frederick?" Karen asked him the moment they reached home. She was eager to hear whatever cutting remark he had to say about the party. "I know you have one."
They sat in the living room of their family home. Jeffrey's new home was still unfurnished and he had repairs he wanted completed before moving in. He felt comfortable staying in his old room and his sisters were thrilled to have him. He was also happy to be there and stood by the large bay window in the living room, remembering that his beloved father was gone.
Although his sisters still lived there, they rarely ventured into Hamsford (especially Old Hamsford) or associated with the evangelical church scene. They attended a different, more contemporary church and frequently traveled. They felt no ties, but Jeffrey loved Hamsford because his father had and he was glad to be back and reacquaint himself with everyone.
Things had started to change with many of the elderly moving into senior living centers and several families leaving for other opportunities. Hamsford had begun to get some undesirable inhabitants due to a high vacancy rate downtown. So his father had helped create a cultural district that included converting an old train station into the Michael T. Brown Cultural Arts Center and Museum. In addition, through the City Council, his father had worked to offer small businesses "friendly" loans and tax incentives to revitalize the downtown and attract new homebuyers. So far the improvements had worked and Jeffrey was determined to keep his father's vision alive.
"Karen, don't tease him," Tanya said. "The evening was bad enough."
"I enjoyed myself," Jeffrey said, staring out at the lights along their driveway.
"You always enjoy yourself."
Frederick frowned from his position by the fireplace. "Define the word good."
Jeffrey returned his gaze to the window.
Karen jumped into the conversation. "The food was adequate," she said, as though she was being generous with her praise.
Tanya nodded. "I believe Brother Jerome selected the Red Mango Company."
"Second rate West Indian cuisine."
"It was what he could afford."
Karen lifted a brow. "And that speech—"
Jeffrey spun around. "I think he made an okay speech."
"I'm surprised you were able to stay awake for it," Tanya said, suppressing a yawn.
Karen crossed her legs and swung her foot. "Did you notice that every eligible woman wore your favorite color? That alone should have spoiled the evening."
Jeffrey shook his head. "No, it's nice to be admired." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Besides, it's understandable. They want to get married. There's nothing wrong with marriage."
"No," Frederick said. "But marriage is serious. It has to be approached with caution."
"I know."
"You have to consider her background, her temperament."
Karen flashed a malicious smile. "And her family."
Frederick nodded. "Yes, they will be a part of your life. You also have to ask yourself if you would want to travel with her or introduce her to your friends."
"Yes," Karen said eager to agree. "You should marry into the best of one's culture not the worst of it. Or the best of someone else's," she said sending Frederick a significant look. She'd hated the engagement party. It brought back too many memories. She liked Beverly, but the Barnetts represented everything she disliked—ignorance, old rules and tradition. They were a reminder of her immigrant roots and she loved all things American—capitalism, individuality, prosperity. "She's so backwards. So Trinny-trinny," she said using the Hamsford slang term for new immigrants.
"No, she's not," Tanya said. "She's grown up here like we have. All the Barnett girls have."
"They're nothing like us. We're American. Our family has been in this country for generations. We're Americans first and Jamaicans second."
"We're Jamaican-Americans. I don't see why we have to choose."
"We're American," Karen said fiercely. "That hyphen is an insult and makes us foreigners in our own country." She looked at Frederick, her heart skipping at the sight of his handsome face. She admired him and all he represented—a proud, distinct culture of constant privilege. He could trace his heritage back centuries and would never sully that distinction by marrying the wrong woman. "But that doesn't matter. What matters is who you marry."
"I didn't say I was ready to settle yet," Jeffrey said with an impatient move of his shoulders.
Frederick's gaze didn't leave him. "Good."
* * *
"You resort to this behind my back!"
"Winston, keep your voice down."
"I'll talk at the top of my lungs if I want to. When I see danger I'll shout 'Fire!'" He waved the necklace under his wife's nose. "Fire!"
Mrs. Barnett keep her gaze downcast used to her husband's railing. She sat in a chair off to the side of their bed and waited for his anger to pass. She knew it was best to keep her voice low and appear as obedient as possible. It was her role to follow the dictates of her husband. He was the head of the house and deserved that respect. But inwardly she didn't regret her minor rebellion. Mother Shea knew more about getting husbands for her daughter than any man could. "Mother Shea thought—"
"I don't care. My girls don't wear jewelry and I mean none. God made them as they are. You are supposed to follow my lead."
"I'm sorry."
"Why did you do it?"
Because I thought it was best. But Mrs. Barnett didn't say that. Instead she searched for a reason that would appease him. "I so didn't want to," she said in a soft whine. "It's just that I wanted Janet to stand out. She'd had her feelings hurt."
He paused. "Really?"
"You didn't hear the gossip?"
"You know I don't listen to it."
"Well, that Original said some terrible things about her."
Mr. Barnett rested his fists on his hips. "He insulted our daughter? Why?"
"I don't know exactly, but it doesn't matter." She sighed as though it took every effort to do so. "I just wanted Janet to feel better so when Mother Shea suggested I let her wear it," she motioned absently to the object in his hand. "I didn't think it was wrong. I know I shouldn't have."
"I understand your intentions were good." He dropped the necklace into her lap. "Now get it out of my house."
* * *
That Sunday, like every Sunday, Janet woke up to the smell of coffee, Jack—a bread similar to flatbread—fried in butter, ackee and saltfish. But she didn't get a chance to enjoy it because her mother rushed them through breakfast eager to get to church where Pastor Wainwright would formerly announce and bless Beverly's engagement.
Neither Janet nor her sisters minded as they tied scarves over their hair or pinned on their hats, knowing there was no other place to be. On Sunday, Hamsford turned into a ghost town. One of Hamsford's main roads, High Street, was called Church Row because over a distance of three miles sat an assortment of churches—two evangelical, three Baptist, two Seventh Day Adventist, two non-denominational (one of which was the church the Farmers attended), one Jehovah's Witness and a Catholic Church, the largest and most grand building on the strip. A new ordinance restricted holding church services in private homes, resulting in several store front churches.
Throughout the morning service, following the hymnal, bible reading and offering, Mrs. Barnett beamed with pride, and she nearly danced when Pastor Wainwright and the congregation blessed her daughter's engagement and celebrated their joy. Unfortunately, she wasn't as happy two days later.
"The Williams are having a party next week," Mrs. Barnett announced at dinner.
"You don't sound pleased," Beverly said.
"How can I be pleased when I know that the only reason they are holding one so soon after your engagement is so that they can invite Jeffrey Farmer? You know that Sister Williams plans to have her daughter marry him."
"Valerie is too old for him," Maxine said.
"And plain," Mrs. Barnett added. "Although she is a very decent young woman and I would never talk about her lack of looks publicly. God created both the peacock and the sparrow. I'm glad that I don't have the problem of a plain daughter who I have to throw parties for in order to attract eligible men." She looked around the table, her gaze conveniently skipping over Francine.
"Perhaps the Williams just want to celebrate spring," Janet said. "How do you know Sister Williams has a hidden agenda?"
"Because I'd do the same if I had the money." Mrs. Barnett glanced at her husband, who sat quietly at the table pretending not to hear the conversation. She returned her gaze to Janet. "You'll have to be more aggressive this time. You can't let Valerie or anyone else take up all his time."
Janet glanced at Beverly, who kept her gaze focused on her plate. "But I don't—"
"I know," Mrs. Barnett interrupted. "Take your large sketch pad. You can do quick portraits. That's always fun."
* * *
"I wish you wouldn't look at me every time Dee-dee mentions Jeffrey's name," Beverly said as she sat on her bed looking at Janet, who stood in the doorway.
"I saw the way you looked at him at the engagement party."
"I was thrilled to see him again. That's all. I don't mind that Daddy and Dee-dee want me to get married."
"I heard that Brother Jerome plans to move to Pennsylvania."
"So what? I'll go where he goes." She gripped her hands. "I am fine."
But Janet didn't believe her sister and believed her even less when she saw Beverly and Jeffrey talking at the Williams' party. Unlike the engagement party, it was a more subdued affair, but no less impressive. Mrs.
Williams, a short, thick woman, with shoulder length wavy hair, was a woman used to entertaining and knew how to dress up her house for any occasion. All the colors were coordinated, the table covering matched the chairs and napkins; fresh spring flowers from their garden were placed throughout the house, including each of the bathrooms. White lace curtains graced the windows and a wonderful woodsy aroma swept throughout the home from the logs burning in the fireplace.
For dinner, Mrs. Williams' cook presented a large pot roast, baked potatoes, red beans and rice, and a fresh salad. Dessert consisted of cinnamon rice pudding. And a variety of music from gospel to jazz played throughout the evening.
"Your sister needs to watch herself," Valerie said in an anxious whisper. "She's an engaged woman. She shouldn't act as though she's single."
"One doesn't stay out of the garden because they have a bouquet inside the house," Janet said. "Just look at Brother Jerome and Sister Daniels."
"Yes, I see them but they don't look like a couple. Perception matters more than truth. No one should doubt her faithfulness."
"Beverly would never be unfaithful."
"That's not the point. It doesn't matter what she would or wouldn't do. She can't afford a hint of suspicion. She's giving Jeffrey too much encouragement and if I notice it, others will too."
Janet sighed. "Maybe she loves him."
"Then I feel sorry for her."
"You pity love?"
"I pity anything with no room to grow. We don't know if he wants to marry her."
"I'm sure he would ask her if she were free."
"But you don't know for certain. If she's not careful she could put herself in a very dangerous position and lose two opportunities."
Janet frowned. "What do you mean?"
"What if her behavior raises doubt in Brother Jerome's mind and he decides not the marry her?"
"That's fine."
"And Jeffrey never offers to marry her?"
Janet hesitated. "Then she could live with me."
Valerie rested a hand on Janet's arm. "I want you to think this through. She might give up stability, station and her family's honor because of a feeling for a man she hasn't seen in years. Love is one of the flimsiest things to base a marriage on. A strong marriage's greatest foundation is a love of God, a commitment to each other and common goals. That is all."
