So who knew applying to colleges was so stressful hahahahah. On the downside, super late update, on the upside, it's spring!
Moniquebowman-Don't worry, as scrambled as this story seems, I do have a plan, and everyone will be getting back together shortly.
Annanarra-Seriously?! That would be wonderful. You have no idea how much time that would save me. Although as you can see I'm not the most consistent updater, but if you're still up for this message me :)
Jeaninelovesu-As always thank you so much for your words, and especially for sticking by this story for SO long. While I of course enjoy writing for the Mandie series, reviewers like you keep me coming back to write more :)
I am that Writer-Thanks! Yeah, Adrian is a creep, but just how creepy is he... ;)
Kingsvillereader-Yeah, just writing this chapter without Joe, Celia, Jonathan had me missing them .
InTheImprovementOfHerMind-START YOUR NEXT MANDIE STORY. NOW. And I agree, Mandie was a huge portion of my childhood, and still is. I probably wouldn't be writing fanfiction at all if it weren't for it.
Guest-Aww thanks, glad you're enjoying it.
Ally-Thank you!
Thanks also to all the guest reviews I didn't get to, you guys rock.
"Amanda, darling, we're here."
Mandie's bonnet clad head shot up, taking in everything all at once. She could already feel the cool sea breeze, scattering the wisps of her hair. She squinted to see over the wide expanse of fine sand strewn over the beach, which appeared almost blinding white under the sunlight. Waves glittered and crashed in the distance, and she smiled at the familiarness of the scene.
"Where is our cabin?" she asked, leaning out of the carriage as she scanned the beach.
John chuckled from the front seat. "Those blue eyes won't spot it from here. The cabin was built in a much more reclusive area."
"Oh." Mandie sat back, and to her side Snowball meowed, batting his paws against her skirt. She petted him absentmindedly, her mind wandering. She hadn't been to Charleston Beach for almost two years, and seeing it now incited many fond memories: collecting sand dollars with Tommy, chasing after ghosts, watching the sunset with all of her friends... Although her friends weren't here with her now, she was confident the trip would be just as great with her uncle and mother.
The carriage came to a sudden halt, and Mandie quickly descended. Uncle John came to stand by her, directing her attention.
"Here it is." He splayed his arms out widely. Standing only several feet away from them was a cozy yet sturdy looking log cabin, which to Mandie's surprise and pleasure, was not too large or fancy looking. Surrounded by patchy areas of grass and sand, and overhead by several very large trees, the place was a definite change in environment from her home at school and Uncle John's mansion. In fact, she realized with a pang, it reminded her a lot of her father's old log cabin.
"I love it," she announced.
"Already? You haven't even seen the inside yet." Her uncle raised an eyebrow playfully, keys jangling in his hand.
"If the inside is even half as great as the outside, then yes." She paused thoughtfully. "But I'd like to see the inside too, just to make sure."
He grinned widely. "Go ahead then. Nothing's stopping you." He placed a set of keys in her hand while saying, "I'll be helping your mother with the bags."
"Thanks, Uncle John." Mandie smiled back. After a couple of strides, she arrived at the door, and twisted the key he had mentioned into the lock.
Sunlight poured into the cabin as the door swung open. The smell struck her first; it was musty, such as the brittled yellow pages of books gone old. How long has it been since anybody was in here? She wondered. To her right she could make out a sitting room with some basic furniture and a coffee table in the middle. The walls and floors were a rich brown, contrasting against the faded red furniture. Facing the table was a large, covered up stone fireplace. To the left there was a kitchen, but before she could further investigate, Snowball darted around her ankles, leaping into one of the comfy sofa chairs.
Mandie temporarily frowned. "Snowball, there will be no running away during this trip, you hear? This is a very large place, and I don't want to be wasting my time chasing you around."
"Meow." Snowball looked up from lazily licking his paws, and Mandie sighed, thinking it best if she retrieved his leash. The cabin was still rather dark, and when going to to draw the curtains aside, she suddenly heard a crinkle of paper, and immediately looked down. Trapped beneath her boot was what looked to be a torn and crumpled piece of newspaper. As Mandie picked it up, the bolded title caught her eye instantly.
MISS ELIZABETH TAFT FACED WITH TWO PROPOSALS OF MARRIAGE
"And here I was worried y'all had left me to retrieve all the luggage by myself." Elizabeth and John were just outside the door. Startled, Mandie stashed the article into her pocket, and quickly got busy drawing the curtains. She spared a side glance at her mother who was setting her bags down. John did likewise before straightening to face her.
"Now, Mandie and I would never dream of doing such a thing." His eyes twinkled as leaned forward to peck her on the forehead.
Hoping she look collected, Mandie began looking out the window. "Uncle John, is the beach far from here? I don't see any water from here."
She saw him exchange looks with Elizabeth. "Perhaps your mother could show us. Do you still know your way?"
"Oh, I haven't been here in so long," she mused. "But I could never forget."
Mandie turned to her, startled. "You've been here before, Mother?"
"Yes." She paused, as if planning to stop there, but went on. "I spent my honeymoon with your father in this cabin."
Mandie's brain automatically shifted in a whole new direction. It was in these kind of moments when her mother brought her father up that Mandie felt more connected to her, as if he was an invisible yet tight string that bound them together. But this time it was different; her mind was stirring with a fierce yearning. The memories of her father had always been kept separate from those of her mother. Up until his death, he was her whole life, and afterwards, that part was quickly assumed by her mother. Now, there was a glimpse of a time where her parents had been together. One that she never got to see.
"Are you coming, darling?" Her mother inquired. Uncle John was already outside, and Mandie nodded distractedly, making sure to shut the door behind her lest Snowball attempted to slip out.
As she trudged alongside her mother across the sandy grounds, she felt compelled to speak. "Mother, I thought this was Uncle John's cabin."
"It technically is," she replied. "Your uncle bought it for your father and I as a wedding present, but it always remained in his name."
So that explains why the place has seemed abandoned for so long. But the article… who did it belong to? "I don't understand…" Mandie looked up at her. "How come Uncle John is the owner? Shouldn't it be yours now?"
"It is more complicated than that."
"Are y'all coming?" John called out, standing besides the cabin's corner. Her mother looked distracted, and even though she wanted to know more, Mandie knew better than to pry the matter. She went up to her uncle, and he stepped aside. "Ladies first."
Mandie turned around the corner, and stopped, sucking in deeply. It really was the perfect view. The sun's golden glow swept over the water, shattering white sparkles across the waves. The area was so secluded; her ears were solely arrested by the roar of the crashing tides. It's so peaceful here, she thought to herself. She had nearly forgotten about her uncle and mother until their voices sounded right behind her.
"Looks like I know my way around here better than your mother does." She heard the teasing tone of Uncle John's voice.
She turned as her mother replied, "Oh, do you now? I suppose that means you know where the secret path is."
"Secret path?" He raised his eyebrows. "I don't recall any such thing."
"Perhaps I should just keep it my secret then," she said with a smile.
Mandie looked at Uncle John. He gave her a slight nod in return before addressing Elizabeth.
"Those blue eyes could never keep a secret from me."
"Yes, I know." She sighed.
"And you also know how I am about secrets," Mandie inserted. "If you don't tell me now, I'll find out by myself later."
Elizabeth sighed again, this time more dramatically.
"Oh, enough! Fine, I will show you two."
Mandie and Uncle John grinned at each other.
"Thanks, dear."
"Yes thank you, Mother!"
"As if I could bear both of you hounding me at once." She shook her head, but the corners of her lips were pulled upwards.
As they made their way into a thicket of trees up ahead, Mandie couldn't help glancing at her mother. She seemed so much more easygoing and relaxed than Mandie had ever seen her. Maybe because of the twins, she mused. She knew her mother and uncle had been trying for a very long time to have children, and with the tragedies and hardships along the way, Elizabeth becoming pregnant must've seemed nothing short of a miracle to the couple. Mandie suddenly noticed her mother stopping, and she looked around to see why. There didn't seem to be anything remarkable; tall, scraggly trees broke through the ground here and there. Then, she saw the river. It was wide enough for someone to swim in, the water steady and clear. Uncle John bent before it.
"A river behind the cabin. Nobody ever told me about this," he commented.
"I thought so," Elizabeth replied wryly. "Jim discovered it one day when exploring. I taught him how to swim here."
John stared at her before straightening and laughing with disbelief. "How on earth did you manage that? I always tried to get him in the water when he was little, but he wouldn't even have both feet in before high-tailing it, or clinging and trying to take me down with him."
Mandie gaze swiveled from one to the other, trying to process everything at once. "Father used to fear water? But he was one of the strongest swimmers in Franklin."
"Thanks to your mother, it seems." Uncle John was still shaking his head. "How did you accomplish such a feat?"
Her mother's expression turned wistful. "Oh, I just figured this would be the perfect spot. He always shied away from large bodies of water, and the river happened to be less intimidating."
"I see." He cleared his throat. "Well, I need to head into town and confirm dinner with our guests. I should be back in time for lunch."
"Don't take too long. This is a family vacation," Mandie emphasized, looking pointedly at her uncle.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," he promised. He turned for the beach, and Mandie looked back at her mother. She had sat down on a tree stump, gazing at the river. Mandie sat on the one next to hers, and also looked, imagining what her mother might be seeing. Seagulls cawed in the distance, and the tree rustled slightly. Life breathed everywhere, but stillness sunk into the moment.
"I miss him so much sometimes."
"I know."
Mandie took a deep breath. "I found this article." She reached into her pocket, and handed it to her mother. "I didn't get the chance to read it."
Her fingers stretched out the wrinkles, as her eyes skimmed over it. "You found this? Here?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Hmph. These gossiping papers were always such nonsense. Jim had not even proposed to me by the time this was published."
"Was the other proposal Uncle John?" Mandie almost immediately regretted asking such an impulsive question. Elizabeth set the paper down, and examined her daughter's face.
"Your grandmother and he keep reminding me of grown up you are becoming," she spoke quietly. "But you are still so young, just like I was."
She watched her mother, awaiting her next words.
Her chin jutted out with determination. "You deserve to know now, I think," she concluded. "At least part of the story."
Realization slowly set in, and soon Mandie's heart thumped with a skittery excitement. She hadn't expected her mother to open up so readily, and she could only wonder what she was going to tell her.
"As you know, I lived in Franklin for most of my childhood, with just my mother and father. After attending Misses Heathwoods' School for Girls, my father was adamant that I continue my education." At this, she smiled fondly, and explained, "My father always encouraged me to aim as high as I could. Did I ever tell you I wanted to be a teacher?"
"No," Mandie said with surprise. Her eyebrows furrowed as she thought. "But I can see you as one. Oh, Mother, you would have made a superb teacher!" She was kind and patient, yet she also knew when to put her foot down. Learning would have been much less tedious (especially at Misses Heathwoods') if her teachers were like her mother.
"Maybe." She was still smiling, but ruefulness tinged her voice. "Unfortunately, girls who come from well off families don't typically lead such lifestyles. Teaching is seen as a job for women of the lower class. My mother disapproved, naturally. She wanted me to stay close to her, attending society parties and eventually find a respectable husband to settle down with."
"Grandmother was so different back then," Mandie marveled. "But I suppose it is expected; she kept Father and I away from you for so long based on unfair prejudices."
"You know as well as I do how headstrong she can be. She always maintained my father was of passive character, but he grounded her like no one else could. Sometimes, I wonder how life would have been if he were still alive, not only for me, but for you and Jim. Perhaps he could have convinced her." Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. "But there is no use to think of such things now. I have you," she squeezed Mandie's hand, "and John, and the twins."
"I'm glad I found you." Mandie squeezed back, emotional. She truly couldn't imagine her life without her mother.
"A month after my father's death, my mother insisted we resume our part in society again," she continued. "It was too soon for me; but I could not protest. I was nearing 18, and it became even more important to meet every potential suitor. It was that first night out, I met your father."
1888, North Carolina
"Elizabeth, come and greet Senator Morton," a voice trilled out, easily distinguishable from the chattering and mingling crowd around her.
"Yes, Mother," Elizabeth replied, her soft, measured voice failing to carry over the noise. She attempted to make her way through the throng of rustling skirts and long overcoats, muttering "excuse me" repeatedly. When she finally spotted her mother's blonde head, she relaxed, but only for a moment, as Mrs. Taft started to beckon her over.
"Finally, you're here." Although her mother was smiling cordially, Elizabeth could tell she was less pleased.
"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," she apologized to no one in particular.
"Oh, that is quite alright." The tall, middle aged man gazed at her with kind, sympathetic eyes. "How are you, Miss Taft?"
"I'm doing well, Senator." Elizabeth wondered if saying the words over and over again made them sound any more truthful. "How do you do?"
"I am feeling better these days. The loss of your father… hit us all very hard." His warm, sad smile caused her to look downward. Out of anyone here, she knew Senator Morton understood how she was truly feeling, able to see past her formal replies and blank face. He used use to be one of her father's closest friend, after all. Elizabeth's gut twinged as she remembered he had also lost his wife last year. The poor man had suffered so much in such little time.
Her mother cleared her throat, interrupting the silence. "Yes, Norman is in a better place now. Elizabeth, darling, would you mind bringing the Senator and I some drinks? I think I saw a waiter serving them around the corner."
Obediently, Elizabeth turned back towards the thriving party, keeping her eyes downcast to avoid eye contact with anyone. The event was held by some very distant friend of her mother's, and it took two (very silent) hours via buggy to reach there. She didn't recognize anybody there besides Senator Morton, but this was fine by her, as she wasn't in the mood for engaging in small chit chat about who was engaged to who, or what Matt Williams, the town's drunk, did this time, which were the only topics people in Franklin liked to talk about. Finally, Elizabeth had reached the corner and spotted the waiter carrying a silver platter of drinks. She picked out two glasses full of sparkling cider, and with one in each hand, braced herself as she prepared to head back into the crowd.
And then she saw the streak of red against the shining white tiled floor. Elizabeth looked at it, puzzled for a moment. Her eyes followed the path leading up to it, marked by muddy footprints. Someone made a mess, she thought to herself. A maid would probably come by and clean up. Elizabeth wasn't a curious person, but she suddenly found herself slowly walking alongside the messy trail. What am I doing? I need to get back to Mother. Yet the farther away she got from the noisy crowd, the better she felt. She was farther away from being stuck at her mother's side, from pretending to have a good time, from everyone and everything. Until the footprints faded to mere scuff marks, and Elizabeth reluctantly stopped, knowing she had stalled enough. She was about to turn around, when there was a squeak of a door opening, and her eyes flew upward.
In the doorway a couple feet away stood a tall, lean man, one hand running through the auburn curls atop his head, and the other stained with a shock of scarlet blood. Elizabeth's breath hitched, because she actually recognized him. She felt heat immediately rush to her face as she stepped back.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."
"No, I should apologize. I probably look like death." He laughed good-naturedly, and she started. His voice sounded young, younger than she expected. Unwittingly, she looked up at him, eyes catching the softness of his jaw, the smattering of freckles across his cheeks, and finally the impossibly bright blue eyes almost glowing at her.
"So, is that drink for me? Because I sure do need one." Elizabeth's lips parted in confusion as she took in his easy, mischievous smile, and then she suddenly realized she was still holding the glasses of cider.
"Oh, no. These are for my mother and her friend. Actually, I should be getting back to them." She tensed up, imagining the scolding her mother would give her about how long she took.
"Ah. Maybe we will see each other again. What is your name?"
Elizabeth froze. She couldn't believe how straightforward this man was being. Although he couldn't be much older than her, making him more boy than man. She searched him for any sign of teasing, but his expression seemed earnest.
"I don't think," she finally spoke. "We should speak any further without being formally introduced."
There was a pause as he raised his eyebrows. "I didn't mean to-"
"No, I shouldn't have-" She took a deep breath. What was wrong with her? She never lost her words like this. "You're bleeding," she pointed out.
He grimaced, covering his bleeding hand with the other. "Yes, it was raining outside and my horse slipped. I might've been riding a bit too fast."
"You fell? Are you hurt anywhere else?" She scanned him from top to bottom with concern. He shook his head.
"No, I just hurt my hand when grabbing onto a branch to curb the fall. Then I got dirty walking the rest of the way." He gestured sheepishly to his muddy clothes. "I was hiding out in this room in hopes of catching a passing by maid to help me."
"Here." He looked at her in surprise as she retrieved her handkerchief from her purse and placed it in his hand.
"E," he read the engraving off the fabric curiously. "For Elizabeth?"
She pressed her lips in a tight line. "Yes. I'm Elizabeth Taft."
"Sorry." He didn't seem very apologetic. "As long as we're still talking to each other, I'm John Shaw."
"I know."
"You know?" He stared at her, startled.
Elizabeth reddened. Oh, why did she have to say that? "I have seen you and your brother around Franklin. I live there, too."
"Oh." John straightened. "Yes, I suppose we're rather recognizable." He grinned at her, and she couldn't help but smile back.
"I assume your brother is Jim then?" she asked.
"Ah, yes, my older brother Jim. He's away on business otherwise I would have roped him into coming along with me." He shifted, trying to tie the handkerchief on his hand using the other. "Between you and me, I don't really enjoy these types of events."
"I don't either." Elizabeth started to feel a strange flutter in her chest. She watched him continue to struggle with the handkerchief, and laughed.
"Come here." She gestured to the windowsill she had placed the drinks on, and he sat down next to them. Elizabeth bent down as she gathered the ends of the fabric and knotted them across the wound.
"Thanks," he said, flexing his hand.
"It was no trouble." She sat down next to him, absentmindedly taking one of the drinks and sipping from it.
"I thought that was for your mother?"
"I'm sure she has gotten another one for herself by now." She handed him the other glass. "Besides, I'm thirsty."
"Good thing I'm thirsty too then." His eyes sparkled at her from behind the rim of the glass. Elizabeth had to take another sip to steady her nerves.
"I'm confused. I thought you were telling me about how you met my father?" Mandie's eyebrows furrowed. "Or was that him? In which case, why was he posing as Uncle John?"
"Your father and uncle were a bunch of tricksters." Elizabeth commented with a roll of her eyes. "They looked very alike, almost identical, and would switch identities constantly. If I remember correctly, John was supposed to be at the event that night, but he couldn't make it and sent Jim in his place."
Mandie frowned. "Well, that's a very deceitful thing to do. He could have at least been honest with you."
"I found out who he really was soon enough." Her mother looked like she was about to say more, but then a figure approached them from the trees.
"You both are still out here?" Uncle John questioned. "It's already past lunchtime."
"Oh, I didn't realize the time." Elizabeth stood up and Mandie followed suit.
"Mother was telling me about how she met Father," she explained as they walked back to the cabin.
John perked an eyebrow. "Really? Did she tell you that she called me Jim when we first met?"
"That was both yours fault, not mine." She crossed her arms and Mandie giggled.
He slipped an arm around his wife's waist, grinning at her endearingly. "I know, sweetheart."
So that was definitely a more family oriented chapter, and for those who are a fan of Elizabeth, John, and Jim, I hope you enjoyed it! Lois Gladys Leppard never really expanded on the characters history with each other, which in unfortunate because there's so much to explore there! I was feeling a bit empty when I finished the chapter, maybe because I didn't get to do as much with it as I wanted to, and also because I really missed writing Celia, Jonathan, and Joe! So, I went ahead and wrote a little oneshot called 'The 20th century'. You can go check it out if you want. It's mainly humor, but there is a little bit of romance thrown in. I'm not really sure what I was thinking when writing it truthfully XD
Until next time!
~N-N-L
