by Judith Pella
“I can do a jim-dandy cartwheel, I’ll have you know.”
“You cannot!”
“We’ll see about that!” He jumped up, stripped off his jacket, and removed his spectacles, laying them on the coat.
He spread out his arms, leaped forward and, as she looked on in astonishment, flipped on his hands, propelling his body into a quite perfect cartwheel. Then, without a pause, he launched into another and another.
Maggie threw back her head and howled with laughter.
Breathless, he dropped back to the ground beside her. With a smug smirk on his face, he said, “So there!”
“I wouldn’t have believed it without seeing it,” she said. “Did you learn that at Harvard?”
His smugness turned sheepish. “No . . . I . . . uh . . . didn’t really know I could do one until just a minute ago.”
She laughed harder. “You are amazing, Evan!”
“It was worth it to see that smile on your face.”
“You have made me feel so much better!” She paused. “And you know what? I am now more certain than ever that you will soundly defeat Mr. Cranston.”
“Just because I did a cartwheel?”
“Because you were willing to.” She gazed at him as a moment of silence descended upon them. A jumble of thoughts flitted through her mind. She tried to shake them away because they were things she wasn’t prepared to deal with, things like: How could Tamara have rejected this wonderful man? How could anyone have ever ridiculed this smart, bright, witty person? And, would Colby have done a cartwheel just to see her smile?
Now she wished she had spectacles to fumble with. She was suddenly very nervous. Perhaps he saw, though it embarrassed her that he might have.
Suddenly he jumped back to his feet. “I told my mother I’d be home for dinner,” he said.
She also rose to her feet. “Yes, I should be on my way, too. Thank you, Evan.” It would have been so natural just then to give him a friendly, appreciative hug, but she restrained herself, not knowing exactly why.
They walked to their horses and before mounting, Evan said, “I’d like to speak with your parents about testifying for Tommy. Perhaps one evening when your father is home I could come by.”
“Any evening would be fine. They are almost always home.”
“Good, then I’ll do that. The trial should be starting soon. I will be interviewing several potential witnesses.”
“Let me know how I can help.”
“Yes . . . I will.”
Maggie thought it odd that the conversation between them had suddenly become so stilted, forced. She had no idea what caused it, and that disturbed her because their friendship had come to mean a lot to her.
Feeling quite bold, brazen even, she laid her hand on his arm. “Thank you, again!”
He glanced down at her hand, then straightened his spectacles, which didn’t look crooked at all to her.
“I’m glad I was here for you.”
They mounted their horses, and when they got back to the road, they turned and went in opposite directions. Mulling over the day in her mind, Maggie remembered she hadn’t said anything to Evan about Colby’s kiss. Since he was trying to help her catch Colby, he might have liked to know their efforts were paying off. She realized she had purposely withheld that information. She didn’t want Evan to know about the kiss. How perfectly silly of her! He’d be happy about it. Perhaps that’s what worried her.
TWENTY
On Saturday Mabel Parker came to call. Maggie could not recall Mabel ever coming to visit. She’d only been to their house on rare occasions, such as the recent quilting bees.
As usual, she was dressed as if to meet the queen of England. Her frock was a mauve-and-purple print with a striped, pleated flounce at the bottom of the skirt. She wore a matching bonnet with a jaunty feather in it and white kid gloves. Maggie actually liked the dress quite a bit, for she was developing an eye and a taste for fashion despite the fact that she was, at the moment, wearing her old overalls. Well, she had just come in from cleaning out the horse stalls!
Mama, Grandma, and Ellie were working in the kitchen putting up apples, but they stopped their work when Mabel arrived. Mama hesitated just a moment before inviting Mabel to sit at the kitchen table. Perhaps she had been wondering if this was a “parlor” visit but decided in the end it wasn’t. In Mabel’s prissy way, just shy of brushing crumbs from the seat of the chair, she sat down. Maggie could not imagine two more different siblings than Mabel and Evan.
Mama and the others also took seats around the table.
“Let me fix some tea,” Mama offered, rising.
“How kind of you,” Mabel said while fastidiously removing her gloves.
Maggie exchanged a covert look with Ellie, who gave an ever-so-slight shrug. This was a visit that should have occurred in the parlor, but Maggie was glad Mama was trying to treat it as casual. Mabel may act as if she were special, but she was, after all, just one of the neighbors.
The women chatted politely for a few minutes. Mabel asked how Grandma was enjoying her visit, and the conversation turned to Deer Island and general county gossip. Maggie was never more thankful for Grandma’s presence. She took up the slack in the conversation. Maggie had a feeling this visit was more than merely a social one. But they drank their tea and conversed for nearly a half hour before Mabel made her real intent known.
“I was wondering, Maggie, if I might have a word with you in private?” she asked with great delicacy. She glanced at Mama. “You wouldn’t mind, would you, Mrs. Newcomb?”
“No, of course not,” Mama said in a perfunctory manner. She probably did mind but could hardly say so. “Why don’t you two use the parlor.”
Maggie rose and led the way, her mind in turmoil. The last and only time she and Mabel had had a real conversation had been at Evan’s welcome home party, where the seeds of the scheme to manipulate romantic events had been planted. Maggie was growing weary of the scheme and was wary of what new intrigue Mabel might have in mind.
After entering the parlor, Mabel paused and closed the door. They sat on the divan. Here, Maggie was more than ever aware of her overalls and felt terribly inferior to the prim and proper Mabel.
“Maggie, we must talk about the . . . um . . . situation we discussed at Evan’s welcome home party,” Mabel began without preamble.
“Yes?” Maggie prompted.
“It is not going at all as planned.”
“What do you mean?” Maggie, for the most part, agreed with Mabel’s assessment but wasn’t ready to make an admission. What she ought to admit, Maggie didn’t know, but the way Mabel spoke, it was apparent that Maggie was somehow at fault for the failure of the plan.
“It is making little or no progress,” Mabel replied. “Just the other day, I encouraged Evan to go with Mother to bring supper to the Stoddards. I practically had to push him out the door. Then, when he was there, he made no attempt at all to socialize with Tamara, according to Mother. Instead, he and Colby went outside, and before anyone knew it, they were having heated words.”
“Heated?” Maggie’s stomach lurched. Could this have to do with Evan’s offer to speak with Colby about Tommy? “What was it about?” Maggie forced herself to ask.
“I don’t know. They wouldn’t say. But from what I heard, they came just short of blows. I’m sure Evan must have backed down—I can’t imagine him involved in fisticuffs, especially with someone of Colby’s superior physical hardiness.”
Mabel’s insult of her brother sparked ire in Maggie.
Mabel went on, “I suppose on the positive side, if they were arguing over Tamara, that could be helpful. But even Evan must realize he will never win Tamara with physical prowess.”
“I am sure you must be mistaken about the argument,” Maggie said hopefully.
“Nevertheless, there is no doubt that no love is lost between Evan and Colby. Naturally Evan is worried about the growing closeness of Colby and Tamara.”
“Closeness?�
� Maggie started to feel ill.
“I myself saw them the other day in the store, their heads together looking at yard goods, whispering and laughing. And why wouldn’t they be getting close, seeing each other daily as they do?”
“Well, there is nothing to be done about that,” Maggie replied defensively.
“In any case, Mother and Evan departed from the Stoddards’ forthwith, and thus there was no interaction between my brother and Tamara. Evan denies that he and Colby were arguing.” Mabel sighed. “I fear there is no way this can bode well for Evan. I have tried and tried to get him to pay visits to the Stoddards, but he always manages to make excuses, the biggest one being his involvement in Tommy’s trial. I hear you were the one to instigate this, Maggie. I cannot say it was a wise move.”
“Evan will save Tommy’s life!” Maggie retorted.
“My brother?” Mabel came just short of laughing. “Surely even you can see he is inept to the point of being almost foolish.”
“Mabel, how can you say such a horrible thing about your own brother!” Maggie exclaimed. Suddenly she perceived something that should have occurred to her before. Why was Mabel so interested in Evan’s love life? They had never been close growing up; even Maggie had seen that. Mabel had always been accepted by her peers, while her brother had been an outcast. And she had never done a thing to draw him in. Now suddenly Mabel cared about Evan’s happiness? It seemed very suspicious.
“I love Evan,” Mabel said without enough passion to give her words veracity. “But he has always been his own worst enemy.”
“Tell me the truth, Mabel,” Maggie said, “why are you suddenly so interested in Evan’s well-being?”
“He’s my brother. I want to see him hap—”
“Oh, come now!” Maggie sharply interrupted. “There is only one person whose happiness you really care about.”
“I am insulted!” Mabel huffed.
“Be honest with me, and maybe I can still help you.” Maggie placed a special emphasis on the word maybe because she didn’t want to commit to anything.
Mabel seemed to mull this over before speaking. “All right. It is very simple. I am engaged, but my mother has it in her head that it would be unseemly if I, the little sister, married before my older brother.”
“What! That’s ridiculous. Perhaps this might be a concern with two sisters, but between a brother and sister? I have never heard of such a thing.”
“Whether it makes sense or not, it is true. My mother has always had a soft spot in her heart for Evan. Perhaps it’s because he was born prematurely and almost died. I suppose it’s like how one loves the runt of the litter more than the other puppies—” When Maggie opened her mouth to protest yet another insult of Evan, Mabel hurried on, “Oh, settle down! One would almost think you loved Evan the way you are acting.”
Maggie snorted dismissively. “I just hate to see a nice person like Evan being insulted.”
“Regardless,” Mabel went on, “Mother has a special place in her heart for Evan. Lucky for me he was gone to his fancy schools so much of the time that it gave me half a chance. But Mother is afraid that if Evan doesn’t marry soon, he will never marry because of his . . .” Mabel seemed to reconsider what she wanted to say when Maggie gave her a dirty look. “His somewhat backward manner. She hopes, I believe, that by forcing me to put off my marriage, it will motivate me to push him, which I am doing, or trying to do.”
“I have never heard anything so conniving and unsavory,” Maggie said with an indignant huff. “You are treating Evan like a pawn on a chessboard.”
“It’s only because he doesn’t have the wits to help himself.”
Maggie jumped to her feet. “That’s it! It’s time you left, Mabel.”
Mabel did not move. She arched a brow. “Perhaps I should forget Tamara and set you up with my brother.”
“Why don’t you just butt out completely! Evan can take care of himself.”
Mabel rose in a languid fashion, as though to emphasize that she was doing so on her own initiative, not because Maggie had asked her.
“I plan to marry my Stanley next summer,” Mabel said. It sounded like a veiled threat. “Nothing is going to stand in my way. If I have to marry Evan off to Iris Fergus, I will. My earlier plan seemed to benefit more people, so I was willing to support it. If you care about Evan at all, you will continue to work with me in this.” She slipped her gloves back on her hands, smoothing each finger with great care. “Maggie, I don’t know what is going on in your little mind, but I suggest you try to grow up and act like a mature young woman. You will surely lose all around if you don’t take some affirmative action in this matter.”
Maggie didn’t know what to say to that and just stared with her mouth slightly ajar. Perhaps in her deceiving, twisted way, Mabel was right after all. But Maggie still didn’t know what more she could do to help the situation.
When Maggie made no move, Mabel opened the parlor door. “I will see myself out.”
Maggie watched her go. She heard Mabel bid the women in the kitchen good day before letting herself out. Maggie still did not move as she listened to Mabel drive her carriage out of the yard. Stupidly Maggie recalled the great time she and Evan had had in that very carriage.
Thinking of Evan made Maggie’s dander rise again. She didn’t mean to glare at her mother when she looked up to see her standing in the parlor doorway.
“What on earth went on in here?” Mama asked.
Maggie blinked and tried to rearrange her expression, but it was too late. “Now I know why you hate Florence Parker,” she said. “Mabel is cut from the same cloth.”
“For one thing,” Mama countered, “I don’t hate Mrs. Parker. Why would you say such a thing?”
“Oh, Mama, you know why. Everyone knows there is bad blood between you two.”
“We are not the best of friends, that is true, but I do not hate her. I don’t hate any living soul!” Mama was truly offended, and Maggie regretted raising this sensitive issue, especially when she had so many other sensitive issues to deal with.
“I’m sorry, Mama. Of course you don’t.” Maggie sighed. That still didn’t help with her own problems.
“Maggie . . .” Mama put an arm around Maggie’s shoulders. “I know you think you are grown up—” Maggie tensed, and Mama added, “You are grown up. But that doesn’t mean you have to shoulder your burdens alone.”
Maggie grasped eagerly at the olive branch offered by her mother. She’d been afraid of her mother’s censure, probably because she knew she deserved it. But seeing Mama reach out to her made Maggie remember that she loved her daughter. And having been reminded of Florence Parker, Maggie also realized that her mother had once been young and besieged with dilemmas and romantic difficulties, whatever they might have been.
“Mama, I have made a mess of things,” she confessed, unbidden tears springing to her eyes.
Mama nudged her over to the divan, where they sat, Mama still with her arm around Maggie.
“You can tell me about it, dear,” Mama said. “I promise I will be understanding.”
So Maggie told her everything. Well, most of it. She didn’t tell about the kiss, because parents had a way of blowing such matters all out of proportion. And she didn’t tell about the mud incident with Evan because it just didn’t seem pertinent.
Basically she told her how she had enlisted Evan in conspiring to keep Colby and Tamara apart so that they, Evan and Maggie, could have a chance with them.
“I now think I have made a deal with the devil,” Maggie concluded.
“The devil? You mean with Mabel?”
“She was the one who instigated it all in the first place. Now she says she’s going to get Evan married off before next summer with or without my help.”
“You don’t have to help her, do you?”
“No, but—” Maggie let out a frustrated breath. It all seemed so convoluted now that she was putting it into words. And silly, to boot! “I still want to win Colby
, don’t I?”
“Do you?”
“Of course! That’s what this is all about.” Maggie thought her mother could be exceedingly dense at times. “But without Evan to distract Tamara, how will I ever have a chance with Colby? Tamara gets a chance every day to win Colby, while I get to see him just once in a while. And if Mabel starts to match Evan with someone else—well, that would be disastrous!”
Mama eyed Maggie. “Disastrous? That seems like a strong word.”
“Mama, you said you would try to understand.”
“Do you want to know what I think?”
Maggie wasn’t sure she did, but she shrugged and nodded.
“I think that if you and Colby are meant to be matched, it will happen without all these machinations. You are every bit as fine a catch as Tamara is, and I am not just saying that because I’m your mother. You are a lovely girl with many desirable attributes. If you and Colby are meant to be, it will be.”
“Did your mother tell you that when you and Mrs. Parker were tangling over the same boy?”
Mama smiled a rather mysterious smile. “So that is the story you have heard?”
“Is that what happened, Mama?”
“I am afraid I can’t tell you what happened. Florence and I swore to take it to our graves unless we both agree to tell. And Florence never will agree to such a thing.”
“Does it bother you that people are whispering behind your back?” Maggie was thinking of her own situation along these lines when she asked.
“I find it more amusing than anything. To think a plain old farmwife such as myself is fodder for the gossips!”
She chuckled, but Maggie didn’t believe her entirely. She’d thought the gossip about Tommy had been funny at first, too, but it had grown hurtful.
“Folks talk about me behind my back, too, Mama. But I don’t find it very funny anymore.”
“What are they talking about?”
“Me and Tommy. And don’t say, ‘I told you so.’ You wouldn’t want me to be anything but a true and loyal friend. Even Dad can’t dispute that.”
“That’s how we raised you.”
