The Daughters of Winston Barnett

by Dara Girard

  Janet fell to her knees again and clung to his trouser leg, weeping. "Please, I don't want to dishonor you, but I can't marry him. Please, Daddy. Please."

  Mr. Barnett shut his eyes feeling his resolve drowning under the flood of her tears. Finally the weight of resignation descended and he touched the top of her head and gently said, "Okay, okay, don't cry. I won't force you to marry him."

  Janet leaped to her feet and hugged her father kissing him on both cheeks. "Thank you." She kissed his hands. "Thank you."

  Mr. Barnett patted her on the back, pleased to see her joy. "Yes, yes. I'll take care of everything."

  Janet kissed her father one last time and then dashed out of the room.

  Mr. Barnett picked up the scissors and replaced them on the desk and sat. He looked at the pile of bills waiting to be paid then pushed them aside. Dear Janet. She wouldn't try to leave home now.

  He'd been surprised when Brother Jerome had stated that Janet was interested in him, but his wife had said she thought the same when he described her behavior. Because it made her happy, he went along with their assumptions. But they'd been wrong about Janet. Mr. Barnett smiled. He and his daughter were very much alike. How he loved her and now she would remain with him: Safe.

  Mr. Barnett opened his drawer and pulled out a picture of Elvis Presley as a young man, thinking of how his life had been tragically cut short. He didn't keep the picture because he liked when Elvis sang the gospels, but because he felt close to him. He used the image as a reminder of what can happen when godly people are tempted by the wrong things. He knew it was only God's grace that he hadn't fathered any illegitimate children or gotten addicted to drugs. Like Elvis, he had grown up in the church and left. But unlike Elvis he'd gone back before succumbing to the demons that could destroy a man's soul.

  "I saved her Elvis." He sighed. "If only someone had saved you, but you save me every day and I thank you." He gently put the photo away and rested back satisfied. Then a cold chill swept through him. Now he had to tell his wife.

  He didn't have to wait long. Mrs. Barnett burst through the door. "Well?" she demanded.

  He held up his hands as though giving God an offering and began to pray. "Lord I thank You for the wisdom and insight you gave me to handle this situation. I thank You for letting my daughter be frank with me so that I knew which way to direct her."

  Mrs. Barnett glared at her husband. "Winston."

  He put a finger to his lips then continued. "I thank You for giving my wife an understanding heart that will help us move forward in this time. How I thank You." He closed his hands and his eyes then began to mutter the rest of his prayer in silence. He peeked through one eye to see what his wife was doing and saw her pacing. He continued to pray until she finally sat. "Amen," he said then smiled at her as though she'd been patiently waiting for him instead of looking at him with an expression of cold fury. "Yes, my dear?"

  "Don't try your tricks with me. What happened?"

  "I talked to her."

  "And?"

  "And she agreed to marry him."

  Mrs. Barnett widened her eyes then rose from her seat and jumped up and down, clapping her hands. "Praise God." She stopped. "I knew you would handle her." She turned to the door. "I'll start preparing for—"

  "Not yet."

  She looked at him curious. "What?"

  "I haven't finished."

  "What else needs to be said?"

  "Plenty. Sit."

  "But Winston—"

  "Sit, woman. You might faint and I'm in no mood to catch you."

  "I've never done such a thing," she grumbled returning to her seat. "What do you have to say?"

  "There won't be a wedding."

  Mrs. Barnett gaped at him unable to breathe. "Didn't you just say that she'd agree to marry him?"

  "Yes, but I decided that I didn't want her to."

  "But you gave your word."

  "I changed my mind."

  Her voice hardened. "Change it back. Everything is settled. Don't do this to me, Winston. We need this marriage."

  "No, we don't. Business is picking up and Janet will be working for a rich woman this summer."

  "It's not the same. Winston, please—"

  "I've made up my mind."

  "But—"

  "My decision is final," he said in a voice that allowed no argument. "Other men will come along that will suit her better. Trust me."

  Mrs. Barnett gaped at him, but knew she couldn't argue with him. His word was law. She burst into tears.

  Mr. Barnett came from around his desk and rested his hand on his wife's shoulder. "Quiet, my dear. It will be okay, I promise. God has better things in store for us. In time you will agree. Besides you may have a wedding yet."

  She sniffed and looked at him suspicious. "What do you mean?"

  "It seems our Beverly has captured Jeffrey's favor." He shrugged. "Who knows, with a little more prompting you may get your wish."

  She wiped her eyes suddenly thoughtful. "Yes, they do make a handsome pair."

  He nodded.

  Mrs. Barnett slowly rose to her feet, her eyes brightening with promise. "And he has more money than Brother Jerome."

  "Yes," he said leading her to the door.

  "And a young man like that would give us wonderful grandchildren."

  He opened the door and gently pushed her out. "Yes." She still continued talking to herself as he closed the door behind her.

  * * *

  "Thank you for meeting me," Mr. Barnett said as he entered Brother Jerome's office. As a bank manager, Brother Jeromes' space was well furnished and impressive in size. Mr. Barnett sat in a chair that looked comfortable. He soon discovered it was overstuffed and stiff.

  "Always a pleasure."

  "Yes." He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "My daughter has disappointed me."

  "How so?"

  "Although, Janet was—I mean is—willing to marry you, her behavior let me know that she is still young and has a wild streak that needs to be tamed."

  Brother Jerome leaned forward eager. "Yes, I had noticed it when she ran away, but I am more than willing to tame it."

  "And she still talks back."

  "Talks back?"

  He nodded. "Yes. All the time. To her mother. To me. No man wants a wife who talks back."

  Brother Jerome rubbed his chin. "That is a problem."

  "I could not in good conscience give you a daughter like that. A woman who is too hot can burn a man's reputation."

  "Hmm."

  "You deserve someone more ripe and seasoned."

  Brother Jerome grinned. "But Janet is spicy."

  "Too much spice can make a man ill."

  Brother Jerome leaned back deep in thought. Brother Barnett was right. He needed to think sensibly. He'd wanted Janet to fulfill some—many, if he was honest—lustful urges, but a man in his position couldn't be led by such wanton emotion. And, besides, who would know a daughter better than her father? "Yes. Thank you, Brother Barnett. Thank you for looking out for me. Let's consider the engagement dissolved."

  Mr. Barnett stood and held out his hand suppressing a smile.

  And with that everyone was happy. Brother Jerome was grateful he'd avoided a bad marriage, Mrs. Barnett was hopeful to hear news for Beverly and Mr. Barnett had his house back in order.

  * * *

  In the summer, "Little Carnival", an annual event for children and teens was held in Hamsford to show off the rich culture of the Jamaican residents. It consisted of a clamorous and colorful parade downtown where participants wore elaborate costumes, steel bands played reggae and competed for prizes, and an array of seafood dishes were in abundance. Given the region's location along the Chesapeake steam blue crabs, crab cakes, and lobster were the items of the day. And, of course, there was the obligatory beer drinking contest. Janet and her sisters never missed this event, although they had never been allowed to participate.

  June turned into July and Janet flourished with her wo
rk at The House of Design, learning faux painting and trompe l'oeil under the patient tutelage of one of Mrs. Blakemore's partners. To her joy, Beverly spent many weekends at the Farmer house, which made Mrs. Barnett very happy.

  However Valerie was less enthused when Janet told her. "I still don't think you should make too much out of it," she said as she and Janet walked the marketplace.

  "It's wonderful. I know we'll hear good news soon." Janet saw Darika who shook her head at Janet's silent question. Janet looked away then halted and stared at something in the distance. "Oh no."

  "What?"

  "There's Brother Jerome." Janet was about to turn when he saw them.

  "There's no need to look so horrified. He's not going to attack you," Valerie said. Janet had told her about the engagement and because it was quickly dissolved she was the only one, beside the Barnett family, who knew.

  Brother Jerome stopped in front of them and offered Janet a wide smile determined to be cordial. He knew that young women's hearts took time to heal and didn't want to be insensitive. He asked about their families and was about to leave when Valerie offered him a bright smile and asked about his property.

  He was surprised at first then pleased, eager to tell her about it. He talked at length before Janet interrupted him saying they had an errand to run and said goodbye. He watched them leave thinking that Sister Valerie wasn't as plain as he'd previously thought.

  "Dear God," Janet groaned dragging her friend away. "I thought he'd never stop talking. Is he still watching us?"

  Valerie glanced back. "Yes."

  "Then we'll have to go to the far side of the market until he leaves. Thank you for diverting what could have been an awkward situation."

  "Hmm."

  Janet looked back to see that Brother Jerome was out of view. "I couldn't have handled him better myself."

  Valerie smiled, but didn't respond. She had no intention of telling her friend that she hadn't started the conversation with Brother Jerome to smooth over the situation. It was an attempt to turn his attention in her direction. All that Janet disliked about him, Valerie knew she could tolerate.

  She had the extra years to know the loneliness of being unmarried and hoped to change that very soon. She anticipated that it would take time, effort and strategy. At church she made sure to compliment Brother Jerome every time he spoke. She invited him for dinner, and started attending both Monday and Wednesday night bible study, which were lead by Brother Jerome. She took note of his schedule, making sure to "accidentally" meet him in the market and in Anita Maxwell's bakery, where he loved to buy pastries and cakes. Yes, she was a shrewd woman with a mission and had anticipated everything in order to accomplish her goal.

  What she didn't anticipate was a rival.

  Chapter 22

  Janet watched in amazement as she stood in the back of the church. "I must have been adopted," she said, watching her sister Francine talking to Brother Jerome and gushing about his latest speech. "You should see how she prepares herself for church. Three weeks in a row she's asked me to help her with her hair. Goodness look how he eats it up. He loves it. Ugh... I think he likes her."

  "She looks very nice," Valerie said in a neutral voice.

  "But she's still plain, poor thing."

  "We can't all be beauties, Janet."

  Janet turned to her friend ashamed. "No, I didn't mean it like that."

  "I know," Valerie said quickly. "I'm just tired. Excuse me." She hurried out of the church desperate to be alone and walked home. If she were a woman easily led to tears she would have wept. But she didn't, although she felt her hopes dissipating; her weeks of effort coming to nothing—again. Thirteen years of hope dashed. She'd noticed Francine's attention to Brother Jerome before anyone else had. Every time Valerie sang or played, Francine would make sure she was on the program and recite a poem. Every time Valerie complimented Brother Jerome, Francine complimented him more. In their bible study class, Francine would ask him questions, wisely appealing to his ego.

  No one really knew Francine. Her family only saw her as plain, but Valerie saw much more. She saw a young woman filled with the same hopes and desires she had: To be looked at, to be cherished. She was somewhat silly, but she was still young and that was what hurt the most.

  Valerie knew she could never be young again. Everyone knew Brother Jerome favored the Barnett girls. He admired Brother Barnett and the conservative upbringing of his daughters. She knew that he'd probably convinced himself that Francine would make him a proper wife and he would enter into a family he respected.

  Valerie turned when she heard quick, pounding footsteps then someone call out her name. She turned and saw Janet running towards her. She stopped in front of her and said in a breathless rush, "Valerie, I've upset you and I'm sorry."

  "It's okay."

  "But I've hurt you."

  Valerie began to walk again. "It's not you," she said with a bitter smile. "It's life."

  "What's wrong?"

  "I just need time alone."

  Janet took her arm concerned. "But Valerie—"

  She yanked her arm away. "Janet, please. I just want to be left alone."

  Janet backed away startled. "Okay."

  "Thank you," she said in a calmer tone then walked away. When Valerie reached her house, she did not go inside. Instead she went around to the back garden and sat in the gazebo among the lush aroma of lilacs, roses, peonies and the buzz of honeybees. The Williams' garden was one of the grandest in Hamsford because they could afford the landscaping and weekly lawn care. But at that moment, sitting amongst its vast beauty, Valerie felt like a weed. Despite the fine clothes, parties, high profile social events, and her job at her father's company she still carried the stain of being unmarried. And she had lost another opportunity to remove it.

  Valerie sat, feeling defeated. No she wasn't a beauty, but some of the happiest women she knew were not. Surely there were men who would look beyond her face and age and take time to get to know her. She had dreamed of getting married since she was a little girl. She wanted to be a wife, to cook for and care for a man. She wanted to be a mother and have three or four children. She wanted to have her own house to decorate and clean. She knew she would make any man the perfect help mate. But no one had given her the chance.

  Tears swelled up in her eyes, but she rigidly held them in check. She was too sensible to deceive herself. Brother Jerome had given her no hint or sign of his interest and he'd certainly never looked at her as he had Francine. She took a deep breath and blinked until all her tears were gone.

  She hadn't come to the garden just to be alone and feel sorry for herself. She also came for her cigarettes. She found them under a hollow rock where she'd hidden her carton then lit one and took a long drag. She exhaled, feeling all her anxieties slipping away. She knew it was a bad habit, but it made her feel good. She stretched out her legs and decided to allow herself to enjoy being out in the sun. She would not wallow in self-pity, always hopeful that new opportunities would present themselves. She inhaled letting the smoke fill her lungs and shut her eyes then exhaled. Good, plain, old Sister Valerie smoking in the garden. What an odd sight she must be and how they would gossip if they knew. Valerie opened her eyes and blew two smoke rings and watched them fade into the sky. If God ordained that she was not to marry, then she would remain single and dedicate her life to the church. She glanced up and saw a hanging vine and stood to twist it around a post. When she did that, she saw Brother Jerome coming up the drive.

  Her heart stopped as she watched him head to her front door. Valerie opened her mouth to call out to him then realized she still held her cigarette. She quickly stubbed it out, hid the evidence of her habit then sprayed the area with an aerosol can she hid nearby. She then popped a peppermint in her mouth and called out his name. He turned to her.

  "What an unexpected pleasure to see you here," she said as he approached.

  "Yes," he said, a little uneasy.

  "Would you like someth
ing to drink?"

  "No, no. I want to talk to you."

  Valerie sat down and watched him, worried. He seemed agitated and her hopes dimmed. Perhaps he came to talk about his feelings for Francine because she was a close friend of the Barnetts. She steeled herself and gestured to the seat beside her. He sat, but didn't say anything.

  Soon the silence lengthened into awkwardness and Valerie felt forced to speak. "I always enjoy talking to you. What's on your mind?"

  "You left the church early before I could talk to you."

  "I didn't know you wanted to speak to me."

  "No, you wouldn't." He fell silent again.

  "I saw you speaking with Sister Francine," she said determined to introduce the topic, although it pained her.

  "Yes." He smiled. "She's an interesting young woman."

  "Yes," Valerie agreed in a dull voice certain that she'd have two cigarettes once he left. She stood. "Are you sure you wouldn't like something to drink?"

  Brother Jerome held his hand out to her then let it fall. "Please, sit down. I don't mean to take up your time, but I don't know how to begin."

  Valerie sat beside him and clasped her hands together, wanting the moment to end, but she smiled instead. "Just start, Brother Jerome."

  "This isn't how it's usually done, but after the fiasco with the—" He stopped and rubbed his chin unsure. "But then again I could be reproached, so I won't speak of it."

  Valerie touched his arm, eager to end the suspense. "Brother Jerome. I know how you feel, but as your friend I suggest you do it. I won't fault you and I doubt anyone else will either."

  "You think so? You understand?"

  "Yes."

  "And you won't think badly of me?"

  "No. Please, Brother Jerome. I am your friend and I will support you in this."

  He grabbed her hand and kissed it. "I knew I was right to come to you."