My Darling Love
Chapter 19 – Pie Crusts and Carrots
"Let's not forget that the little emotions are the great captains of our lives and we obey them without realizing it."
-Vincent Van Gogh
The summer came and went and now it was autumn. Everyday Wendy changed just a little more. She was no longer a little girl but not yet a young lady. Caught between what she was and what she was to become was troublesome and confusing. She felt lost, her brothers would play with one another and get filthy outside, and Wendy, although she wanted to play with them, didn't want to climb trees or roughhouse. She would suggested they throw a tea party and they would flee, not even willing to humor her with her china set.
But if she were to tell a story, she would have their complete attention, until the part where it ended with a kiss. "Why do your stories always have to end with a kiss? I'll never let a girl kiss me! Yuck," Michael would say as the end neared.
"Girls like stupid girly things like kissing," John would answer before he tried to lure his sister into a sword fight.
Wendy watched her mother and Aunt Millicent talk secrets in the kitchen, at dinner and in the parlor late in the evening. She knew they were secrets because they kept their voices low. And after the children went to bed and Wendy looked down from the top of the stairs, she would see her mother and Aunt Millicent giggle to one another, carrying on in their own world of womanly adventures.
All adult conversations Wendy witnessed made no sense at all to her, the same expressions and proper terminologies that had once baffled Mary when she was that age now mystified her daughter. Wendy noticed things about her mother she never had before, emotions she didn't understand. Alone in bed, she often thought of her queries, "What is it that mother and father do when alone in their room together? What do they talk about? (Why must the room be locked?) What did she see in him that made her want to marry him? Why does she love him more than anyone else? What makes my father so special?"
She found no answers by simple observation. To her daughter, Mary was a magical creature full of mysteries. John and Michael didn't care, responding to her musings with, "Mother is a girl." Wendy couldn't ask George and would never ask Aunt Millicent.
Finally, she asked Grandpa Joe. "Why does mother always serve father his dinner first?" Wendy's first of many questions about her parents and their life and love.
"Because he is her husband and he works a long day. He has lunch at one, so by the time he comes home, he is the hungriest. Plus, it's his food on the table, and being the man of the house and the provider, being served his supper first is his reward. When I was the man of my house, my wife always served me first. But I'll tell you this much, Wendy, rest assured, if there wasn't enough for everyone to eat, your father would be getting served his supper last."
Grandpa Joe had taken the children to the park on a Sunday afternoon after church, and Wendy sat beside him on the bench.
"Why?" Wendy asked, a favorite and very popular question of all children.
"Well Wendy, that's what the man of the house does, when there is plenty to eat he gets rewarded and when there's not he goes without."
"What do Aunt Millicent and mother talk about all the time," her second question.
"Ladies' things, I guess. As you get older, Wendy, you will want to talk about silly womanly things yourself. Now, you have to understand dearest, I'm a man, and those topics your mother and Aunt Millicent delight in have no interest to me. So, I'm not really sure what they're always giggling and whispering about. How about, when you start to do those things with you mother and Millie, you tell me what all the chatting is about?" Grandpa Joe's answer made Wendy laughed, but she did agree. To show her sincerity, they shook on it.
Wendy's questions went on for an hour. Grandpa Joe was amused by her curiosity and did his very best to give her the proper explanations, but there were some questions not even he had the answer for.
"How did father and mother meet?"
Grandpa Joe rubbed his chin and gave it some thought, "Well, I always assumed that I had introduced them for the first time, but my assumption was incorrect. If I remember what your father told me, he had seen your mother from a distance many times before they met in person." He leaned closer to Wendy and whispered, "Can you keep a secret?" She nodded, quite pleased to be engaging in a private conversation, like her mother.
"Your mother met your father at a party when she was sixteen, although they were not formally introduced, well, not to each other. Now you can never repeat to this to a living soul, Wendy, for your mother swears this never happened, although your father has confirmed its truth and, after he gave me the account of what occurred in great detail, I remember it happening as well."
Grandpa Joe moved mouth to ear with Wendy and spoke as softly as he could, "It was a winter cotillion at the house of your father's parents, it was the first grown-up party your mother was ever allowed to attend. We went as a family, your mother, Grandma Elizabeth and myself dressed in our finest. Your mother wore of dress of deepest blue; Aunt Millicent picked it out and decorated it with all the accessories. Anyway, your mother had such a good time and was not at a loss for admirers. In fact, it was your Uncle Peter who seemed to be occupying most of her time. Now, I put my foot down, being her father, Uncle Peter was already well over thirty, and Mary Elizabeth a young girl of sixteen," Grandpa Joe pulled away and sat back gazing off into the sky, "I'd heard rumors about Peter, and I didn't want him spending any time near my Mary..."
Wendy was confused, was that the secret? And more importantly, "What rumors, Grandpa Joe?" Her grandfather' attention snapped back from his memory of the night, and he shook his head, "Not important nor proper for a young girl like you to hear talk like that, anyway..."
He dipped his head back down to her, reiterating her promise, "Now remember Wendy, not a word to anyone. Your father was staring at your mother from across the room all night, kind of the way he does now, as if awe of her splendor. Finally he got up enough courage and asked her if she would like some punch. Oh, course she did, she had been dancing all night, and as he returned with it, he accidentally tripped over your Uncle Peter's foot. Now, Wendy if you ask me, I think Peter purposely tripped him. But he fell nonetheless spilling punch all over your mother and her pretty dress. And when it could not possibly get any worse for your poor father, your mother slapped him and broke his spectacles calling him, I believe the exact words she used were, 'a clumsy perverted fool.' For when he fell forward he mindlessly brushed his hand over her breast. It created a huge scene that stopped the party. Your father tried to apologize but he slipped in split punch and was so nervous and ashamed to have insulted your mother that he only stuttered something about her breasts and she slapped him again. Between you and me Wendy, that is why you Grandma Elizabeth and Grandma Josephine never cared for one another."
"And still they got married? Why?" Wendy had never heard such a story, and if anyone ever spilled even a drop of punch on her dress, she was sure that would be reason enough to squash an engagement.
Grandpa Joe rested back again and spread his arms out over the bench, sighing deeply, "I don't know." He then quickly leaned forward and rested his elbows on his lap, making his statement sound as though it were incomprehensible to him, "Your mother swears that never happened! Do you understand, Wendy? She would swear on a stack of Bibles that not only did she never slap your father twice at the same party, but also that she was never even at that party. I was at that party," he declared pointing to his chest, "and I remember your mother being there, and I remember your father spilling the punch and then getting slapped, and your mother says that none of that ever happened. She called me a silly old fool when I told her I was sure it did happen just that way."
"Why would she say it never happened like that, Grandpa Joe?" Wendy was not as interested in that mystery as she was in others, but curious now of her mother and her secrets just the same.
"It is truly an enigma of being a lady. Now if she said it was not your father but another, I would say she was confused, but to deny the entire event, well that is just ... unfathomable."
As the afternoon sun was setting into evening, and the dinner hour grew closer, they walked home as Wendy continued her interrogation. "Why are we not allowed in mother and father's room? What do they do in there when they are alone?"
Grandpa Joe had held his laughter at most of her questions, not wanting to make her feel silly, but this brought out a guffaw. "You are not allowed in their room because that is the rule. You are their children and you live with them in their home and everything they have is yours -- except what's in their bedroom. What they do in their room is their business and no one else's. That's part of being married. If you don't understand that Wendy, then you need to ask your mother."
Wendy would never dare ask her mother, but she imagined well enough. In her mind, they slept there, they dressed there, but never saw the other naked, and they told secrets about the neighbors and kissed. When the old man and the young girl reached the door of their home, Wendy asked one final question. "Grandpa Joe, why does father wish mother happy anniversary in July when they were married in November?"
Grandpa Joe often asked himself the same question. Mary and George were engaged in May, so if they celebrated their engagement, the date would be May. Just as befuddled as his granddaughter, he escorted her through the door and said, "Honestly, Wendy, that is another thing about your parents I find rather perplexing myself."
And so time went on and everything in Wendy's world continued to change. She felt it unfair, nothing seemed different for John and Michael; they were still boys. As they grew taller, Mary bought them larger sizes in the same style of clothes. But as Wendy grew, her mother presented her with entirely new attire. She now had to wear constrictive undergarments to hold in the small slopes that had developed over the summer on her chest.
George told John and Michael that they were to give Wendy her complete privacy when she was in the bath. "Under no circumstances are you to disturb her when she bathes or when she dresses." Nana, hearing George's strict tone complete with shaking finger, stood guard whenever Wendy set off to the washroom.
Her dresses became more form fitting to accent the curves that were becoming evident, and now Mary combed Wendy's hair up and off her face in a simple twist or ponytail with pretty curls, where she once let it hang free. "I'm sorry, Wendy but I must braid it this way." If Wendy were to protest and suggest, "Maybe it would easier to just cut it short mother, I actually might like it that way," Mary would swiftly nip the idea in the bud with, "proper young ladies do not have short hair." The only relief Wendy got was in the evening after her bath when she wore her bedclothes. They never changed, and with her hair washed and dried she was allowed to leave it down and flowing freely.
Aunt Millicent began to take notice of Wendy, constantly asking her to step forward and turn around, almost as if she was being appraised as a walking horse. She complied, chuckling with her brothers who were mocking her "girly twirl," as they called it. Aunt Millicent would take note of her and then turn to George and Mary and shake her head, "Not yet, but almost." Aunt Millicent grinned from ear to ear, not once hiding the impending doom of Wendy's inevitable maturity.
"Soon she will be a young woman and do the things young women do. She needs her own room. Mary you should look through all her dresses and select those that are proper for a girl her age and discard the rest. She should not spend so much time with her brothers, but with you Mary. After school she should began her classes with me." Aunt Millicent was lecturing George and Mary after the children went to bed. Wendy was listening with her brothers from the top of the stairs, as they sat in the parlor.
"Can't Mary teach Wendy those things? That is what we had discussed," George offered.
"George, do you want Wendy to endure the same things Mary has all these years? No, of course you don't. You want Wendy, your only daughter, to have a house with servants and be a proper lady who doesn't have to lift a finger. With all due respect to my dearly departed sister-in-law, Mary was never properly presented to polite society. I had suggested a coming-out party, but she scoffed at the expense, and therefore she was not introduced and given an opportunity to meet all the handsome gentlemen that were out and about. Mary is so lucky she found you, George." Aunt Millicent had a way of softening the blow that she still felt George had not been the best choice. She knew, as well as most, that had Mary been "introduced" she would have married the biggest fish and never even met George.
"Well, when Wendy feels she is ready, Aunt Millicent," Mary answered. "I don't want to rush her into anything if she is uncomfortable. Thirteen going on fourteen is a very difficult time for a girl. Feelings develop that were never there before. I want to give her as much time as she needs."
Aunt Millicent nodded her head, not in agreement but with acceptance to Mary's request. "Just make sure she is ready before her monthlies begin."
"Monthlies?" Wendy, Michael and John lined at the top step looked to one another with quizzical expressions.
Whatever the word meant made George cough on his scotch. Mary shook her head and looked to George with raised brow. "Wendy will begin menstruation very soon. Best have her in her own room by then." With her last sentiment complete, Aunt Millicent rose and departed to her cab waiting outside.
Grandpa Joe sat sitting in his favorite chair puffing on his pipe. He did not rise like George and Mary did to be polite and see his sister to the door, only waved with a grin to her as she left. With her gone, George and Mary sat back down and began talking quietly back and forth. John and Michael headed back to the nursery on Nana's insistence, but Wendy stayed.
Feeling now would be a good time to ask his question, he did. "Why do you celebrate your anniversary in July if you were married in November?" Both George and Mary stopped whispering and turned to Grandpa Joe, then to each other. George became nervous and started to stutter a reply. Wendy, hidden at the top of the stairs quietly descended almost to the bottom, wanting to hear for herself. Mary put her hand on George's arm and silently indicated she would answer.
"The day I ran away, George and I promised one another and God that night we would be together forever." Grandpa Joe knew what Mary was talking about and needed no further details or explanation.
Wendy, on the other hand, was oblivious to this revelation. It seems her mother had run away with her father, and they promised each other and God "forever". Forever is an awfully long time, Wendy thought, and that is why their room is special. For whatever "forever" means must be in there.
The holiday season was again upon them, and snow began to fall. Mary decorated the tree along with the children, and let Michael put the star on top, as it was his turn this year. They hung their stockings and helped their mother straighten the house for their annual Christmas Party. The children were excused from school for their winter holidays, and they ran all the way home.
Tonight was Christmas Eve; Father Christmas would come and bring presents that were to be opened with care. With table set and the family gathered around it, they waited for George who was already an hour late. Mary began pacing the front foyer, as the children grew hungry and impatient. Finally at seven thirty, he arrived and was rushed to the table by Mary. A little perturbed that he hadn't sent word he would be stopping by the pub with a few gents from work, she served George his dinner last.
After dinner came dessert, and after dessert came a short nap for the children. They were awakened and taken to church for late mass. Home from church, they ran into the house, Father Christmas had indeed been there, leaving gifts for each of them in every imaginable shape and size. The children barreled through their gifts without breathing or watching anything else except their own enjoyment.
Wendy followed her brothers' example for a few minutes before noticing the grown ups opening their gifts. Grandpa Joe got a new pipe from George, and Mary bought him a tie, his sister gave him new cuff links for his dress shirts. Father Christmas gave him a bathrobe and slippers. Father himself got a new pocket watch from mother, as well as her favorite cologne she chose for him special, and a new leather spectacle case. A new wallet from came from Aunt Millicent and Grandpa Joe got him a tie and handkerchiefs. Other gifts were a razor and fancy shaving set. Aunt Millicent got a collar pin with a pretty red stone from mother and father and "trashy novel" from Grandpa Joe, who called it that. She also received a pretty purple parasol and matching scarf and hat. Mother was the only one forgotten by Father Christmas. Aunt Millicent gave mother perfume and Grandpa Joe gave her a new hair clip, just like the one from her drawer, but not bent or with stones missing, brand new in a velvet box.
The cowardly king never gave the queen anything for Christmas but a peck on the cheek and an "I told you not to buy me anything for Christmas, I thought we agreed." Wendy thought by now he would just know to get her something. But this Christmas was different.
With everyone done unwrapping their gifts, George went to the foyer and came back with his coat. From it he pulled a long velvet box, similar to Grandpa Joe's hair clip and presented it to Mary. "Happy Christmas, Mary." George said as he handed it to her.
Without even looking at what was in the box, Mary clutched her hand to her neck and replied, "Oh George, you shouldn't have." Despite her words, she wore a smile the children had never seen. Grandpa Joe also wore a new smile, one of pride at his lovely daughter worthy of such a gift. She opened the box and looked at the contents. Without a word, she dropped the box putting her hand to her mouth and ran up the stairs to her room.
The children watched after her with their mouths gaped open, baffled by her behavior. "Mother was crying," Michael said, he being the last one able to see her go.
Aunt Millicent picked up the box. Inside were three pieces of carrot. "What is this?" Aunt Millicent queried with an annoyed and insulting tone.
"It was to be a joke." George stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up.
George slowly began to go up, stopping half way watching his bedroom door. Mary came out fixing her face, she had been crying, and walked down past him without saying a word. As she entered the parlor she reminded the children of their stockings full of treats and they went to them, not as happy as they normally would be with their sweets.
The children dumped the candy and chocolate onto the floor and began trading the pieces back and forth, arguing over the unfair swapping. Mary sat nearest Aunt Millicent whispering secrets and Grandpa Joe got up to speak with George, still on the stairs. After a few moments both George and Grandpa Joe returned and suggested Wendy and the boys tell a story. "I want to see you in your costumes, and there must be a sword fight!" he insisted.
The boys raced upstairs, but Wendy stayed behind. She walked to Mary and said, "Mother, I didn't get you anything for Christmas, but if you want my bracelet back, you can have it."
"No, Wendy, that is your bracelet. I want you to have it." Mary got up and hugged her daughter before taking her upstairs. She helped the children dress up and introduced them and the play they were to present. "The children have entitled it 'The Knight That Came For Christmas." Wendy chose a story about a beautiful queen who was kidnapped by a pirate captain only to be rescued by a brave knight who gave up his reward to the king. "You have to kiss for the story to have a happy ending," Wendy told her parents.
George and Mary brushed lips quickly and everyone cheered. "Off to bed!" Mary commanded and the children went.
With the children in bed, George and Mary cleaned up the mess together without speaking and retired upstairs. Alone in the privacy of their room, George apologized. "A few gentlemen from work have done it to their wives and they thought it rather silly." He hoped she would see the humor, chuckling.
She wanted to tell him that a real gift of carat diamonds was sure to be in the next box, or disguised in another present, but she saw he felt embarrassed already, so she didn't feel it was necessary to prolong his suffering.
When George commented that he was going to tell his chums that his wife didn't think it funny, she responded, "Tell them I thought it was very amusing."
George tried to cheer her up with some affection, but Mary declined, "I have a headache George." She turned over without relinquishing his kiss, and went to sleep.
Christmas morning at the Darling Residence meant Mary was up at the crack of dawn cooking her holiday feast. For the first time ever, Wendy decided not to play with her gifts like John and Michael but help her mother. In the kitchen, Mary showed her how to make the dressing for the goose and the proper way to fit the piecrust in the pie pan without it cracking. Mary had a good deal more skill with baking, and the piecrust Wendy made fell apart and could not be salvaged.
Grandpa Joe was in the kitchen arguing quietly with his daughter as Wendy held her ruined dessert. Mary was losing her patience with whatever Grandpa Joe was insisting on, and she walked over to Wendy and grabbed the pan she was holding. "See father, promises from George are like pie crusts, easily made and easily broken." With that she dumped the pan in the dustbin and continued in the kitchen without another word to Grandpa Joe.
Mary had no sharp words for her daughter. Wendy was ready to run for her life with her mother's outburst, but Mary only said, "It's alright, Wendy, let us try again. The only way you will learn is to make mistakes, and nothing you are being taught will be mastered in the first lesson."
Wendy's next attempt was a success, and Mary commented, "Your pie will be the most delightful dessert." Together they cooked and baked, and when they were finished, they cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom. Mary directed Wendy to set the table, and she did. With everything in order the family was called to the table and everyone sat down to eat the delectable feast mother and daughter had prepared together.
"Where is your Aunt Millicent, Mary?" George asked his wife conversationally, hoping, to bring her into a more cheerful mood.
"I'm not sure, George, she said she was coming," Mary responded matter-of-factly.
"Not like Millie to miss a free meal," Grandpa Joe put in his penny's worth. He was the only one who called her Millie, and it made the children giggle.
A moment before the supper prayer began; Aunt Millicent barged through the front door, out of breath. Still in her coat and hat she sat at the table a breathed a sigh of relief. From her purse, she pulled the same box George had given to Mary yesterday, but this time without the vegetables. "For you, my favorite niece, whom I consider my own daughter." Aunt Millicent presented Mary with the box and she opened it.
"Oh my God, Aunt Millicent, it's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." It was a necklace of teardrop emeralds in gold a gold setting, five of them dangling, refracting the light of the dining room, the perfect decoration for the necklines Mary always wore on special occasions.
"I don't know how you got by in Paris with all of Peter's wealthy friends without a proper necklace. Whatever they must of thought of Peter's brother to let his wife go around without the proper accessories coordinated to her outfits. I hope you had the good sense, Mary Elizabeth, to lie for your husband, and tell your new friends you were terrified to travel with your jewelry!"
Her insult was a direct assault on George's heart and manhood. He lowered his head and looked at his plate. Mary approached Aunt Millicent, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Grandpa Joe helped Mary put it on, and she modeled it with pride. The children, never seeing such an expensive item on their mother, stared and gave her compliments.
Aunt Millicent never knew when to keep her mouth shut. As quickly as she could be raised to the throne in the lovely Queen's kingdom, she had a way about her that caused the Queen to kick her right back off. She saw how Mary showed off the gift to her husband and how embarrassed he was, only managing, "It very nice, not as beautiful as you, though," so she gave what she believed the final thrust of her sword into the king's heart.
"Your previous fiancé, Mary Elizabeth, the man you should have obviously married, gave that necklace to me to hold for a wedding present. He'd planned to give it to you himself on your wedding night. After you married George, he told me to keep it for you anyway, as this man you call a husband would surely never be able to buy you such a gift." Aunt Millicent victoriously smiled about the table.
The children never knew there was a bigger fish, but Wendy knew by the look on her father's face that it was Aunt Millicent and not the pirate captain who would defeat the cowardly king.
"Mother, you were to be married to someone else?" The words left the children's mouths faster than their innocent minds could contain them.
Mary got up from the table, no food had been served and no joyous conversations had yet begun. She yanked the gift from her neck and threw it down on her empty plate, with an expression of unquestionable horror, suddenly replaced by a blank stare.
Mary Elizabeth, serve our family their supper." George directed, touching her shoulder as she pushed back her chair. "It's getting cold on the table."
Both children and adults were silent, for George never called Mary by her full name. Mary turned to George and responded trying to choke back her tears, "No George, please. You serve the children their supper" and left the dining room. She had already run up to her room the night before, and with no other rooms left for privacy, she put on her coat and hat and walked out the front door.
All eyes were on her as she made her way out, and only George rose to stop her. "Let her go, George, she'll come home when she's ready. Serve the children their dinner," Grandpa Joe assured his son-in-law. George did what Grandpa Joe recommended and everyone ate in a strange and disturbing silence. The children darted their attentions between George, Grandpa Joe and Aunt Millicent. Their normal entertainment for Christmas supper was cheerful talk and loads of laughter. Instead, they saw their father eat his dinner while staring at the centerpiece of fresh winter flowers on the table. They never left the spot, not even when he lowered his fork to his plate and up to his mouth. Grandpa Joe glared at Millicent, while Millicent stared at her plate, terrified to meet anyone's eyes, especially the children's.
The holidays were supposed to be happy times, but this Christmas was the worst. The children ate their desserts alone in the dining room, forgotten then as the grown ups went into the kitchen and quarreled loudly. "I cannot believe your audacity Millicent to bring such a thing as that gaudy necklace into this house! And to speak of Mary's previous fiancé in front of George's children! If this were my house, I'd throw you out on your ear! As a matter of fact, I think that is just what I will do!" Grandpa Joe snapped the moment Millicent stepped into the kitchen, being yanked from the dining room by her fragile arm at the mercy of her brother. She fared no better with George who shouted, "If you dislike me so much Millicent, then I suggest you simply stay away from my wife, my children, my home and my dinner table!" What could Aunt Millicent do, except cry? So she did.
No one was there to put the children to bed only their father telling them, "Please tuck yourselves in this evening, children."
They were not ready to go to bed, wanting their mother. Thinking better of asking for her, hearing the raised voices resuming in the kitchen, not to mention, Aunt Millicent's wails, the children conceded defeat on the matter and went to the nursery. Soon John and Michael fell asleep but Wendy stayed awake and waited. Every other year, before their guests arrived, Mary would come in and talk with the children, telling them to behave and not make noise, and never go to the stairs and peek down. This year she never came, and Wendy got up to investigate her disappearance.
The party was already in full swing with Aunt Millicent acting as hostess. Forced into service by her brother, with the threat of, "If you say one more unkind word about my son-in-law, your ear is not where you will land when I throw you out of this house!" Her eyes were puffy and her makeup smeared and still she managed a cheerful, "Hello, please come in and enjoy yourselves!" as she opened the front door for the guests and gathered the coats and hats.
Wendy saw an older woman ask George about his wife, and he replied, "She's not feeling well and is lying down."
Wendy went to her parent's room and knocked on the door. No one answered. Hearing her grandfather's hearty laugh bellowing below, she turned the knob and entered. Mary was not in her room; the bed was empty and made. Her pretty dress for the night's festivities was laid out upon it, as well as her shoes on the floor next to the bed.
"Wendy Angelina Darling, how many times do I have to tell you not to enter my bedroom?" It was her father's voice. As she turned to see him, she saw his face was angry, but at the same time lost. He shut his door and locked it, before returning his attention to her. "Why must you always be so stubborn Wendy?" George sneered. "Must you break my rules even on Christmas?"
Wendy teetered on her bare feet. She didn't know how to respond except to say, "I'm sorry father."
He was unimpressed by her apology, and snarled, "Maybe I should give you a good swift spanking to teach you a lesson then?"
That she could answer, "No father, I really am sorry. I was just worried about mother." She was truly concerned her mother was lost and so was he. Therefore he commanded, "Go to your room Wendy, now." She obeyed, and without another word stepped back from her parent's room. George watched her slowly walk back to the nursery. Once inside and in her bed, she heard her father lock the door to the nursery as well.