I wanted to scream and hiss and accuse, but I never would have lived it down. They seem to have put away their childhood anger at me, and I don't want to wake it up again. Whatever they did, it was fine, whatever I did, it was wrong, and screaming at my aunt would definitely qualify. Though I have every right to be angry.
I slam my suitcase down in my aunt's doorway, and swirl into her foyer in my baby blue lace dress, the one with a hoop that would make even the southern girls jealous.
"That's good, there we go, that's good", she smiles. "Gerald", she calls out, "Put my niece's things in the largest guest bedroom."
"What are you up to, Aunt March?", I ask.
She smirks back.
"Why do you want to ruin my life?", I insist.
"Ruin your life?! Child, I want to save your life! I know you're in love with that Laurence boy. Love is blind, but lucky for you, your aunt is not. I promise you that in five years your marriage will amount to him lying around the house because he doesn't have an ambitious bone in his body, and you being furious you got such a lazy useless bum for a husband. Come now, you know it. I've heard you talking to him. I've heard you accuse him of having no industry yourself, and even of losing your home", she says.
"Wow, you put even more thought into this than I expected. Listen, Auntie, this is none of your business. I'm leaving right now, going back to my husband, where I should be..."
She grabs my shoulder. "I want to leave my fortune to you, child. And the house. A fortune nearly as great as Mr. Laurence's."
Fortune?
"But I can only do that if I trust you. If I trust you will make good with it", she says seductively.
"I'm the most practical of all my sisters and my mother!", I insist.
"I know you are. Why do you think I chose you years ago? I need to know you make my kind of choices if you have my kind of fortune, Amy", she insists.
"Never marrying, like you?" I roll my eyes.
"I didn't say you couldn't marry, child. I stayed single to keep my fortune intact, and to paddle my own canoe, and because...because...it wasn't as much of an option for me as for you", she says, waving me away again. "Your so called...beauty. I didn't have your advantages. But you can have it allll, Amy, can't you see? The fortune and a husband. But the right husband, one with great wealth, with the connections, someone who will take this family to the next level. And that's not in small town Massachusetts."
"Aunt March, I LOVE Laurie. I'm married to him. Did you think I was going to leave my husband for the promise of another house?", I ask, infuriated.
"Just help me get my papers together, Amy. Help me get my papers together for a few days and I won't say a word when you go back to Mr. Laurence. Deal?", she asks.
"Fine." I roll my eyes. "What do you want done?'
I file papers in alphabetical order. I witness her sign papers. I make her breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and I sleep alone thinking of my husband every night. He said he didn't care, but he did. He's angry with me for doing this and I can't let it become a barrier between us.
Days go by, but no Jo. Aunt March's answer is always one more day.
LAURIE POV
The day Amy father's is going to remarry us, I realize my top hat was lost somewhere between Notre Dame and here. It's a pain to get another one, but Franklin's Gentleman's Shop would have what I need ready. I can get it sized later. My grandfather goes with me so he can get one to match.
Walking through the jingling door, we find Mr. Franklin greeting us with a smile.
"Gentlemen...", he starts, but he has a nervous twitch to his voice. "What can I help you with?"
"Top hats", I say smiling back.
"Black?", he asks.
"Traditional black silk for me", my grandfather says.
"Maybe I'll be a little different", I say, and Franklin clears his throat uncomfortably.
"Something wrong?", my grandfather asks.
"Nothing is ever wrong at Franklins. Can I offer you gentlemen a new suit? We got just in the newest material. Charmeuse for summer, velvet for winter."
"Go ahead, grandfather, you never get anything for yourself", I insist.
"I just might", he says with a smile, "Won't be ready by this evening, but by the balls held this autumn. You should get something yourself. Off the rack. My grandson is tall enough, but quite thin, I shouldn't think he'd need much in the shoulders."
Mr. Franklin clears his throat again. "My God, man, are you ill?", Grandfather asks.
"No, of course not", Franklin answers.
He takes Grandfather aside and begins measuring him on a pedestal as I look through new choices. Brownish burgundy velvet. Marine blue crepe. Green silk so dark it's nearly black.
I go through the racks, listening as a tailor helps another customer.
"No, I need all new things. I didn't bring much as I was in a hurry", he's saying.
"I hope not a family emergency?", the tailor asks. Gossip about this new stranger will be around town before nightfall.
"No, no. A young lady I had intended to marry. Turned me down in Paris, but I have learned since that she was pressured into giving me up by a family friend who wanted to marry her himself, and the man is a no-account. According to her aunt, I've arrived just in time", he says.
No, I think, rubbing my forehead, it's a coincidence.
"Don't be angry!", I hear Mr. Franklin yell. "I thought you needed to be made aware of it is all."
"We're leaving!", Grandfather shouts. I'm torn between confronting this stranger and following my grandfather.
"Dammit", I hiss under my breath.
"Laurie!", he shouts and I follow him out.
"What was all that about?", I ask and realize we're screaming on the sidewalk.
"Shhhh!" My grandfather paces in circles. Quietly, he says, "Mr. Franklin asked me if there was something wrong with you."
"Wrong with me? What the hell is going on around here?!"
"Watch your language! Yes, wrong, as in "wrong." He heard you married Amy five weeks ago and haven't laid a finger on her, that she wants an annulment because of it, and he wants to know if it's true", Grandfather finally admits.
"Where the hell would he hear something like that?", I shout.
"Miss Sally from the dress shop, who heard it from her maid, who heard it from Maybelle, whose house she also cleans, who heard it directly from Aunt March, which is why everyone believes it", he says. "Laurie, it's just gossip. After tonight, it will end. They'll see the two of you together and that will be it."
I rub forehead and walk home alone as my grandfather calls after me.
Hours later, the sun falls fast. I'm to be to the March house at 7 pm. I watch as 7:30 passes, gulping the bourbon so hard, it stings my throat.
"I assure you he's nearly ready", I hear my irritated grandfather say to someone who has apparently come to check.
"No reason to worry. Amy always takes an eternity getting ready", says the feminine, nervous voice of Meg March.
He's a no-account. Her aunt says I arrived just in time. He doesn't need much in the shoulders. He asked if there was something wrong with you.
I keep running it all over and over in my head. I take another gulp and the familiar warmth spreads into my stomach. It's show time.
I get up and accidentally kick something loud across the room as it goes flying into the bed. An empty glass bottle. Huh. I don't remember that. I drape my silk jacket over my arm.
I come down the long, winding staircase, only missing one or two.
"Oh my God, Laurie", I hear Meg gasp, and she begins to cry.
"Grandson, this isn't the answer", I also hear.
"It's time to be at the March's isn't it?", I ask. "So let's go.
AMY POV
I'm in my Paris dress, red roses tied into my hair, my Paris shoes, my Paris perfume, and diamond necklace, and I'm just really so excited to be dressed up again. I'm late, he's going to kill me.
There's a commotion at the door.
"That's him! That's him!", I call down the stairs. Finally. Tonight's party and we finally get to be alone.
"Amy I think you better come down here", my father shouts. His tone makes me rush down the stairs.
"Laur...Fred?!"
"Amy, I know what happened, your Aunt told me before you left Paris, and that I should follow you. I know he's trying to force you to marry him, but you don't have to! Your aunt told me he was of low character, I would never let you marry such a man." He drops on one knee. "Amy...please, marry me."