Chapter Four
Caroline pulled up into Annabella’s driveway in her slick new convertible. She pulled her sunglasses down to her pointed nose and gave Hattie a look as though she thought Hattie should help her with her bags. Hattie rolled her eyes and turned away.
“The driver will help you with your things, Ms. Caroline,” she informed the young lady as she walked away.
“Ugh!” Caroline exclaimed. “She is simply useless,” she told Annabella as she entered the house.
“I shudder to think what kind of mistress you would have been prior to 1865, Caroline. But in case you did not get the telegram, President Lincoln has freed the slaves,” she joked with her entitled friend.
“You’re a fine one to talk, Annabella. Why, you’ve been keeping Hattie in bondage longer than President Davis ever held a soul.”
“Well, at least she is here on her own volition and not left to me in a will like your Millie.”
“No maid has ever worked for a White person on their own volition. Money is their only motivation,” Caroline felt obligated to inform her naïve friend.
“Well, maybe if we paid them more, they wouldn’t be so desperate,” Annabella assured her.
“Since when did you become a bleeding heart liberal?” Caroline wanted to know.
“Hattie is my friend and confidant, Caroline. She is nothing like you describe the others.”
“Hattie is your maid and your mammy. You will see. As soon as you are off and married, she is going to leave you,” Caroline told her bluntly.
“You should hear yourself!” Annabella wailed with her arms in the air as she walked away from her friend. “When I’m off and married,” Annabella mumbled to herself.
“You’re right. Like you’ll ever get married,” Caroline conceded.
Soon, the two bickering Belles were in their hired car and off to the airport. Caroline’s incessant complaining about the driver was drowned out by the girlish giggling about whom Caroline was or was not dating.
The two otherwise helpless young ladies arrived at Martha’s Vineyard without incident. As if they were unaccompanied minors, Hattie had arranged for assistance for the ladies at every leg of the journey and they were never without a guide, a helper, or liaison. Annabella had been to the family’s seasonal home many times as a child, but over the years she saw her friends return with husbands and children. She could no longer bear to put herself through the embarrassment of showing up with her parents and no man. She had only agreed to go on this trip because Caroline was coming and, in Annabella’s mind, was just as pathetic as she was. Caroline was quite delusional, the way Annabella saw things. She had no more hope of landing a fine husband than Annabella. After all, Caroline was used up and no man in his right mind would marry such a woman. She was known about town and in the elite circles as the girl who would do anything with anyone. Her poor father practically withdrew from his social circles because he was too ashamed to face people, knowing what was being said about his daughter. He even sent her away to school in France, hoping she would come back a proper lady. Instead, she returned even more liberated than when she left. Unlike Annabella, though, she was not obsessed with finding a husband and being the perfect wife. Caroline’s life was fine - by her account. She was beautiful and educated. As long as she had her daddy’s fortune at her disposal, she had everything she needed. Annabella was her only friend because she was the only unmarried woman left in their circle of friends. And no married woman in her right mind would dare have Caroline around with her loose morals just waiting to pounce on someone’s poor, unsuspecting husband. Annabella once tried to set up Caroline with her male counterpart, Warren. Annabella figured them both to equally licentious and that their respective past indiscretions would cancel each other out. However, Warrenton Bingham Boatwright would not hear of such a thing. He figured Caroline to be nothing more than uppity, nouveaux-riche trash who used her marginal good looks and lascivious lips to lure men into her lustful latches. Besides, Warren was a hunter. He was disinclined to chase anything that was not trying to get away. It was just as well. Caroline was not attracted to the self-absorbed, self-righteous, vainglorious dolt of a man. She figured him to be overcompensating for something, and she had no patience in attempting to find out what exactly it was that he was lacking.
As the driver pulled up to the extravagant home, Caroline began to scope the scene. She could not imagine spending a week with the tense girl she had known practically her whole life without the distraction of a handsome stranger. She was looking for what would become her 7-day lover. Annabella knew that look and she smacked her friend square on the cheek.
“I will not hear of it, Caroline. You will keep your boney knees together on this trip. Do you hear?” Annabella scolded her.
“You don’t expect me to go a week without a man, do you?” Caroline asked desperately.
“I most certainly do! I will not be in the company of a strumpet whilst I attempt to recover from my nervous breakdown,” Annabella needed her to know.
“Nervous breakdown? You ran over a woman because you found her with your boyfriend one too many times. You only came here to let the heat die down. I have a good mind to slap you back. It might do you some good,” Caroline retorted.
“Warrenton is not my boyfriend and I could care less about that dreadful woman. Besides, she ran into me,” Annabella cleared things up.
“Yes. Well, while you pretend to not be interested in Warrenton Bingham Boatwright, I will be checking out that dark-haired gentleman in the Dockers.”
“You mean Chadsworth Montgomery? I don’t think he’s your type, Caroline,” Annabella warned.
“Why not? He’s handsome and obviously rich,” Caroline noticed.
“Let’s just say his hair is not the only thing dark about him,” Annabella tried to be coy.
“Oh, my word! It is getting harder to tell these days, Annabella. The Blacks are getting richer and lighter. Pretty soon, we will all be the same color and class,” Caroline exclaimed.
“Not necessarily. I know plenty of rich White folk with no class at all. On the other hand, I know lots of poor Black folk with a ton of class,” Annabella retorted.
“You are undoubtedly referring to your precious mammy, Hattie.”
“Why do you despise her so much?” Annabella wanted to know.
“Because she thinks she’s better than White folk,” Caroline was convinced.
“What on earth would make you say such a thing?” Annabella did not understand.
“Everyone knows it. She works for you all day, then goes home to her precious family. She does not want to be around you. She does not care about you. She won’t even let her daughter go to our prestigious university.”
“What in heaven’s name are your ranting about? Dominique is going to a private college for the Blacks,” Annabella explained.
“Exactly! The word around town is that our university not only accepted her, but offered her a full scholarship. However, Hattie turned them down flat. She doesn’t want anything to do with White people except to get their money.”
“Even if that were true, can you blame her? I mean, look how you are carrying on. Maybe she just wants her daughter to be with her own kind.”
“Exactly!” Caroline continued.
“You are positively touched! You get upset if the Blacks want to be too much around Whites and you get upset when they don’t want to be around us at all. You will never be happy because you just don’t like them,” Annabella had finally figured out.
“That is a lie. I loved my mammy. But, like all the others, she took her money and left.”
“Caroline, it’s called growing up. She was never yours to begin with. She was there for a season. I guarantee if you had a White mammy, she would have eventually left too.”
“Just like Hattie is going to leave you. As soon as she pays for her daughter’s expenses, she won’t need your money anymore and she is going to leave your magnolia-white posterior high an
d dry.”
Annabella looked out the grand windows and peered at the lighthouse. It saddened her to think about the reality that one day Hattie would leave. Hattie was not like those people Caroline described, but she was human and like anyone else, she wanted her own life. She was loyal to Annabella’s family. Unlike some of the other domestic help, no other family was able to lure Hattie from the Devereaux family with the promise of more money and better working conditions. Hattie was set on making sure Annabella grew up brave and strong. But, that task was proving to be more difficult than she anticipated. By all accounts, both Hattie and Annabella should have been out of the house over ten years ago.
“Maybe if you weren’t such a racist, your nanny would have stayed around,” Annabella reasoned.
“Me? A racist? That corset has finally cut off the oxygen flow to your empty little head. I am the furthest thing from a racist. All I ever did was try to help the Blacks. They never gave a hoot about me. Never! My father was more than fair to them.”
“Your father is practically the Grand Dragon himself. He has more sheets than Linens and Things.”
Annabella tickled herself. She took such delight in getting Caroline’s feathers ruffled and her face was as pink as a carnation. Annabella knew she had gotten the better of her girlhood friend.
“I am not racist and I will prove it,” Caroline assured her.
“How do you propose to do that?” Annabella took the bait.
“I am going to date Chadsworth Montgomery.”
Annabella’s face stiffened and her mouth dropped wide open.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she told her friend.
“I would,” Caroline assured her.
“Caroline, you do not need to prove anything to me,” she told her friend in her most southern voice.
“Apparently I do. I am going to do something you and your powder-white confidants would never dream of doing. I will show you for once and for all that Caroline Cordelia Collinsworth is no racist.”
With that, she flung her stringy hair and turned abruptly. She turned up her nose and walked away with a bounce in her step.
“As if,” Annabella said under her breath.
But she knew it was no use trying to talk her friend out of the idea of dating Chad. Caroline was as stubborn as a mule at a Republican convention. She was not to be handled lightly. Telling her that she cannot do something is the easiest way to get her to do something. Annabella was concerned, however, about the long-term consequences. She knew that Caroline was essentially pursuing Chad on a dare. But, what about when the relationship ends? Caroline was already considered damaged goods in their circle. If she dated a Black man, she would surely be unmarriable. Annabella hated herself for thinking such a thing, but she knew it was true. And soon she started to wonder if she was racist too, or was she just realistic. But, it was of no matter to her at the present time. She was in Martha’s Vineyard to have a fine time and forget about the treachery of the days that preceded her impromptu vacation. She wanted to relax, have a good time, and forget about the perils of being a rich, beautiful socialite living a mundane existence.
Chapter Five
Annabella was mortified when she awakened for the ninth and final time. She could tell by the sliver of light peering through her magnificent view that it was way past the time any decent girl would have returned to her sleeping quarters. Caroline had been out all night and Annabella was worried that the girl might be somewhere lying in a gutter. Of course, there were no gutters to speak of in Martha’s Vineyard, most assuredly, but she was certain that her friend was in just as much trouble. She had not slept most of the night, awakening at the sound of every horn blowing, at blinding flashes of light, at the sound of young socialites frolicking gaily on the beaches and boardwalks. While outwardly annoyed, Annabella was secretly jealous of all those young men and women who knew how to have fun. She was so caught up in the identity she had fashioned out of her father’s social standing and her mother’s neuroticism that she was unable to free herself from the confines of the family name to craft her own. All she knew how to be was a prude. Until now, she was perfectly happy with it. But, now she was beginning to realize what she was giving up by holding steadfast to it. While she was holed up in her plush quarters, Caroline was probably out having the time of her life, tasting the sweet juices of life while Annabella barricaded herself in the house sipping on the staleness of tap water. She was supposed to be having fun too. After all, it was her vacation. She was the one who nearly had a nervous breakdown after mowing down her neighbor’s girlfriend. She replayed the event over and over again in her head, convincing herself that subconsciously she did it on purpose in a jealous rage. She was about to start doing it again when she heard the sound of keys rattling at the door.
“What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?” Annabella demanded to know.
“One would have to have had carnal knowledge to become someone’s mother, Annabella. That being said, you most certainly do not qualify to be mine.”
“Don’t you have any shame?” Annabella attempted to make her accountable.
“The only thing I am ashamed of is that you are my closest and dearest friend. I shudder to think that I could do no better than you,” Caroline retorted.
“Where have you been?” Annabella continued to press.
“With Chad, of course.”
Annabella tossed herself backwards onto the bed and collapsed with her arms in the air. “Just kill me! Just kill me now! I will never be able to live this down!”
“Annabella, you are positively the most dramatic belle in all the south. But, in case you didn’t notice, we are not in the south anymore. Things are more progressive up here.”
“I am not the least bit concerned with the racial makeup of one Mr. Chadsworth Montgomery. I am sadly more concerned about your virtue, or lack thereof.”
“Oh, please, Annabella. My virtue has long since dissipated. Even I don’t miss it anymore. Now, don’t you want to know all the details?”
“Never! Lest I find myself impregnated by the mere lascivious details of your meaningless romp.”
“I don’t know what you just said, and I’ve known you most of my life.”
“I do not want to hear one word,” Annabella assured her friend.
“Fine. I will just go get some rest for our date tonight,” Caroline bragged.
“Tonight? You are going to see him again?”
“Of course. He is a lot of fun and he is so charming. He’s not like-”
“Like what, Caroline?” Annabella pressured her friend.
“Nothing.”
“Go ahead and say it. You know you want to.”
“I am not racist, Annabella.”
“Me think ye doth protest too much, Caroline.”
“He’s just not like other Black people I know.”
“Caroline, what other Black people do you know?”
“Like Hattie. He’s not greedy, selfish, ignorant.”
“How is it that my housekeeper always ends up in our conversation? Why do you hate her so much?”
“You want the truth, Annabella?” Caroline asked.
“Of course I want the truth,” Annabella continued.
“The truth is that she is the reason you are the way you are. She always put you on a pedestal and made you think you were the Queen of the World. No one and nothing was ever good enough for her Annabella. And now look at you. You are getting old, Hattie is on her way out the door, and you are about to be all alone.”
Annabella was stunned. She had no idea her friend felt the way she did. She was not hurt by the revelation, but certainly surprised. She thought for a moment before she spoke.
“It’s funny how two people can take two different paths in life, yet end up in the same place. You had a housekeeper too. She left you too. And now look at you. You are all alone too. Your prospects are no better than mine. The truth is that we will probably end up alone together.”
Ca
roline dropped her head and walked away.
“So, is it true what they say?” Annabella tried to perk up her friend.
“I wouldn’t know. He barely kissed me.”
“Why Caroline Cordelia Collinsworth, are you saying you are an unscathed woman?” Annabella teased.
“For now,” she smiled.
Annabella and her longtime friend lay on the bed next to each other with their hands tucked under their chins and their feet in the air. They talked and giggled well into the late morning hours. It reminded Annabella of a simpler time when they were young girls dreaming of fairytale lives. Annabella was sure her prince would come and rescue her. But alas, she was aging and still alone. She often wondered what life would be like if she had been just a little more extroverted, social, flirtatious. It was of no matter now. She was entering the years of her life where she would have to settle. Most men her age were out having the times of their lives and actively seeking brides. If she was cooped up in her stately mansion, how would they ever find her? Her smiles and giggles turned into frowns and sighs. And when she thought she could not feel any worse, the phone rang. The ringing sound startled Caroline, who had never heard such a hideous noise. She was used to the modern sounds of her mobile device and wondered who on God’s green earth would ever use such an antiquated piece of machinery. She could not, for the life of her, convince Annabella to get a mobile phone. Annabella could not see the utility of such a thing. Who would need to reach her so urgently? Besides, she was always some place that had a landline. She had neither the time nor the inclination to subscribe to something so incredibly tethering. She believed that if something was of an urgent nature, she could be reached. So, when the house phone rang, she knew that it was something important.
An Old Fashioned Southern Romance Novel Page 2
