Disclaimer: All of these characters and places belong to Harper Lee (may she rest in peace)—anything that is my own has been inspired by her.
A/N: Howdy, y'all! I figured since there was only one chapter left of I Want All That is Not Mine, I would start the other idea I've had playing around in my mind for a while (…a long time ago I mentioned I was inspired by beauty pageants… this is it hahah!). I may be off a bit date-wise (I deeply apologize, that has not been my strong suit with these things) and I'm actually not quite sure if debutante balls were a thing in these days but I found the story idea to be just too good to pass up! So, if this is historically inaccurate I deeply apologize and still hope that this is an enjoyable story! Also, I was just super excited to post this, so there has been very minimal proof-reading done, so if I come across as a complete noodle I deeply apologize again!
-o-o-o-o-
Maycomb, 1942
Jean Louise Finch hated Sundays, just as many other sixteen-year-olds did. However, while most of her peers hated Sundays because the following day meant another tedious week of school, Jean Louise hated Sundays because of church. Each week she sat wedged between her brother and her Aunt Alexandra (she still didn't understand why Atticus got to sit by himself at the front of the church) while the minister rambled on and on about why Maycomb needs to be a good bunch of Christian people and blah, blah, blah.
She felt Jem nudge her, making her jump (and Aunt Alexandra glare—she swore she heard her Aunt Louise snickering a few seats down). She shouldn't have been surprised, though, Jem always nudges her when she dozes off in church (which happens far more often than Jean would like to admit). "Behave." Alexandra mouthed to her niece and nephew, causing Jean Louise to scowl as Jem pointed at her as a form of blame.
Crossing her arms, Jean inched down in the pew ever so slightly so her aunt wouldn't notice. Her eyes instead focused on the glimpse of blue sky peeking through the window behind the minister, and wished that she was anywhere but here. After sixteen years of going to weekly sermons, Jean Louise still could not understand the point of church. It was boring, the ministers were judgmental, and she could think of thousands of better ways to spend an hour and a half than this. Despite her weekly pleadings, she was still forced to go to church every Sunday with her entire family, and was then forced to endure supper with her entire family afterwards.
The suppers weren't so bad—it was usually Alexandra who made the meal unbearable (just as she had with every other meal). But Jean Louise felt as though she should be granted the same freedoms that Jem had been given at her age—which included being able to miss those predictable Sunday family suppers. But she was a lady according to Aunt Alexandra insisted, and therefore Jean Louise had different expectations placed upon her than Jem had at her age.
There used to be a time where if someone in her family even muttered: "this is something your mother would have done," Jean Louise would simply keep quiet and do what she was told. It was as though her mother was this invisible presence that served as some sort of driving force in her life. The mere mention of Eugenia Finch would compel her daughter to do absolutely anything (Jem used to insist that if he said that their mother would jump off of a bridge that Jean Louise would do it in a heartbeat). But as she got older, she felt as though her mother's memory was growing more and more distant. She had only been two when her mother died and she couldn't remember a thing about her. For all Jean Louise knew, most of what her family told her about her mother could have been a ploy to coerce her to do things she didn't want to do.
"Jean Louise," Aunt Alexandra hissed. "The service is over."
Once again, Jean Louise jumped and sighed in defeat. Sixteen years of not paying attention in church and she still hadn't mastered the art of looking like she was paying attention. Over Alexandra's shoulder, Jean Louise could see her Uncle Jack and Aunt Louise both smirking at her—she wanted to roll her eyes, but there was no way Aunt Alexandra would not see her.
It would be another twenty minutes before Jean Louise would be in the refuge of her home. After each mass the women from town would flock to Alexandra to engage in gossip (didn't the church advise against that?) while the men always went to Atticus to discuss whatever legal problems they were having (wasn't Sunday the day of rest—it didn't seem like Atticus did much of that). All the while, Jean Louise and Jeremy would stand by the steps with Aunt Louise and Uncle Jack, forcing smiles and pleasantries to whoever came their way.
"Really interesting discussion on the impending rapture, wasn't it?" Louise asked, a smile playing on the corners of her mouth. "I was really intrigued by what he was sayin' about the floods of blood coming to cleanse the sins of Maycomb."
Jean Louise gave her aunt an inquisitive glance. "Um, yeah," she said apprehensively. "Really interestin'."
Jack and Louise had erupted into laughter as Jem rolled his eyes. "You idiot," Jem said. "She knew you weren't payin' attention so she made that up."
Since the United States went to war on December 7, 1941, Jeremy Finch had become the most irritable person to live with. He wanted to go to war and fight the enemy and help the United States earn the victory they so rightly deserved (her brother's exact words). However, due to the heart condition he inherited from their late mother, Jem was stopped from doing many things including playing football and going to war. He watched as old buddies of him went off to war while he was stuck in Alabama, reading law just as his father had done. Becoming a lawyer had always been a dream of his—but that was before America had gone to war. Since then, it was almost as if her brother had become a completely different person, and Jean Louise couldn't say she liked it that much.
"Oh shush you," Louise said, swatting at her nephew. "Honey, if your Auntie asks the pastor was talkin' about vengeance and forgiveness especially in such crucial times."
"Ha," Jack chuckled. "If he talked about the rapture I'm sure we all would have paid more attention."
-o-o-o-
Supper was never held at the same house each Sunday, and always alternated from Atticus' home to Jack's home each week. Five years ago Jack had taken an early retirement and moved from Nashville back home to Maycomb, with Louise ultimately joining them. It was just a bachelor and a spinster living together—though much of Maycomb accused them of living in sin (which made the two of them laugh without fail every time it was mentioned). Jean Louise always loved the Sundays where they had supper at their house—when Alexandra was in charge it was always more stressful than it needed to be.
This week dinner was at her house, which meant that she was at the whim of Aunt Alexandra, who constantly having Jean Louise run around doing various things to make the dinner perfect (you would think she was serving the King of England!) while the rest of her family sat in the living room chatting. Sometimes, Jean Louise wondered how her family never ran out of things to talk about—besides the Sunday suppers they were always seeing each other, and it seemed as though there was never-ending conversation, which Jean Louise couldn't help but to appreciate.
When they all sat down for supper, Alexandra looked at her niece and actually smiled.
"Auntie?" Jean Louise asked as everyone cut into their ham and potatoes.
"Yes?" Alexandra responded.
"Is everything alright?"
"Of course, why wouldn't it be?"
"Well, um, you're smilin'."
Atticus had placed his silverware down to flash a warning look at his daughter as Jack erupted into laughter and Louise nearly choked on her water. For once, even Jem looked amused. Alexandra flashed them all a look. "Well," she said, her smile growing ever so slightly. "I have the most delicious idea for you!"
Delicious? Who was this woman?!
"Um, what?"
"Don't say um Jean Louise," Alexandra responded quickly. "And well, I was talkin' to my friend Patricia who lives in the center from town and her cousin Catherine lives in Montgomery—"
"Zandra cut to the chase before your food gets spoiled."
"John Hale Finch, you stop bein' so spiteful!" Alexandra warned, looking cross once again. "Anyway, Catherine mentioned that there's a debutante ball happenin' in six months—"
After a few muffled noises, Jem finally erupted into laughter. "Auntie, I think you need to get your head checked out if you think Jean Louise is goin' to partake—"
"Jem," Atticus warned before Alexandra could say anything. "Continue, Zandra."
Alexandra had been glaring at her nephew. "Anyway honey, I told Catherine you were the perfect age for it—oh! Jean Louise, it would just be beautiful! You officially becomin' a lady in society—it's quite the honor, you know."
Louise flashed her niece a look. "It's not all it's cracked up to be, Alexandra," she said, chuckling. "My mama made me and my sisters do the same exact thing and I must say it's much more stress than it's worth." Alexandra flashed Louise a look, as if Louise was going back on some sort of an agreement the two women had.
"I'm not sure, Zandra," Atticus said, locking eyes with his sister. "It just doesn't seem—"
"My mother did this?" Jean Louise asked her aunt, who looked surprised. It had been quite a long time since Jean Louise asked any questions about her mother. Slowly, Louise nodded.
"We all did," she shrugged. "We all got the poofy white dresses and went through the dinner and dumb little reception…I'm sure I have some snapshots somewhere…"
"See!" Alexandra said, trying to be as cheerful as she could. "Your own mama did it, and she was quite the reputable lady!" Louise rolled her eyes. "You're too young to remember but your cousin Ruth also went to her debutante ball in Mobile—oh it'd mean the world to me if both of my nieces—"
Quickly, almost as if she had been possessed by someone who wasn't herself, Jean Louise said: "I'll do it." She swore she could hear a collective gasp around the table.
"Really?" Alexandra asked seriously, reaching to grab at her nieces' arm.
"Yes," Jean Louise responded.
"Are you kiddin'?!" Louise exclaimed, looking utterly baffled.
"I'm not," she affirmed.
"Are you sure?" Atticus asked, a hint of concern in his eye.
"Yes, sir." She said.
Slowly, he forced a smile. "Many years ago I remember your mama mentionin' she had some snapshots up in the attic, you can see if you can find them." He told her as Alexandra stood from the table.
"Zandra where are you goin'?!" Jack exclaimed. "Certainly you can't be plannin' this yet."
"Oh no," she responded excitedly, clapping her hands together. "I've got to phone Caroline—she owes me five dollars!"
Almost everybody at the table laughed at her, except for Louise, who threw her napkin on the table in defeat. She, too, stood up from the table. "And where are you goin'?" Jack asked her.
"I gotta run home," she sighed. "I owe Alexandra five dollars."
-o-o-o-
After Jack and Louise had gone home and everyone else had retired to bed, Jean Louise quietly climbed up the rickety stairs that led to the attic. She remembered her and Jem playing up here as children, hiding amongst the old furniture and other treasures that were hidden away. Once she got up there, she regretted not asking Atticus where her mother's old snapshots were. However, she didn't need to worry for long because a few moments later she found two old trunks labeled Eugenia Finch almost hidden in the back of the attic. She exhaled slowly, feeling slightly apprehensive about what she might find.
She wasn't sure what compelled her to say yes. To be honest, her mother hadn't been in the forefront of her mind for years—Jean Finch had become a very distant figure of Jean Louise's past. Her daughter was aware of her existence and thought about her sometimes but she never found herself missing or yearning for her mother like Jem did. But, when Aunt Louise mentioned that all of the Graham girls had gone to debutante balls, Jean Louise became instantly interested.
Maybe this would be the thing to finally bring her closer to the woman she had never known.
Slowly, she opened the first trunk. Within it she found dresses, blouses, skirts and even slacks all folded neatly and smelling of musk. The first item on top was a creamy pale dress with little flowers printed all over it. As she ran her hands across the fabric Jean Louise was quite certain that she had never felt anything so soft before (how had it remained this soft after fourteen years?!). After she examined the different pieces of clothing, and determining that this wasn't all of the items her mother had owned (there were only about ten different pieces in there), Jean Louise noticed what else was in the trunk. Tubes of lipstick, hair brushes (with strands of blonde hair still in them!), a full bottle of perfume and half-empty jars of creams and lotions (all of which had been reduced to liquid by now). With unsteady hands she picked up the wooden brushes and gently set them on the floor besides her before opening the perfume and smelling it—lavender and honey, she determined. As though she was being watched, Jean Louise took the perfume and set it next to the brush before closing that trunk and going to the other.
The second trunk was stacked neatly with different journals—some were the inexpensive paper-bound ones students used in school while others were beautiful leather-bound ones that were tied shut. On top of all of the books was a stack of snapshots. Quickly, she grabbed for the snapshots and shuffled through them. She found pictures of who she assumed to be her mother, her aunts, Atticus and even her and Jem as babies! She couldn't find any from the debutante ball, but that didn't seem to matter to Jean Louise anymore. Laughing to herself, Jean Louise felt as though she had hit the jackpot, relishing in these snapshots she never knew existed. She picked a few for herself (one particularly funny one of Jem as a baby and one of her mother and Atticus) and placed them next to the brush and the perfume.
Next, she grabbed for one of the leather-bound books at the top. As she untied the string that kept the journal shut, Jean Louise wondered if it was her mother who had tied it in the first place. She skimmed through the journal, looking at pages full of unfamiliar handwriting. Finally, she stopped on a random page and read:
Wednesday, May 18, 1927
I nearly died of fright this afternoon when Scout decided to attempt to fly from our porch steps, slicing her head open. Doctor Reynolds came and stitched her up, but it was still quite the terrifying experience—I certainly thought Jem was going to shout himself mute!
It was her mother's journal! Scout gasped as she flipped through the pages, reading about the incident of her stitches (no wonder why she had a peculiar scar right above her eyebrow). She couldn't believe what she had found and found it almost hilarious that her mother referred to her as Scout just as everyone else did. She quickly found herself grabbing for all of the notebooks in the trunk (there were over ten in there!) and placed them all next to the other things she had found in the trunks. She found an old burlap bag hanging off of a hook, shook the dust out of it, and quickly shoved all of her findings in it before slowly making her way down the attic steps.
She wasn't sure what time it was, but she noticed Atticus' study light was on. That wasn't peculiar, her father was always known to spend long hours of the night in his study. What was peculiar, however, was the fact that he was talking to someone. At first she thought that maybe he was speaking to Jem or Aunt Alexandra, but she noticed that they had already retired to their beds.
Curiously, Jean Louise approached the study door, trying her best not to be heard.
"Jean," she heard him saying, making her even more confused. "Scout agreed to do the debutante ball for Alexandra…I reckon you could say I'm slightly concerned. Just please watch after her, wherever you are…"
Once she realized he was talking to her mother, Jean Louise stepped away from the door.
