Here it is, Chapter 3. Not a terribly exciting chapter I'm afraid, but it does give you a peek at the kind of person baby Evangeline grew up to become. It's from her point of view, and will be from now on, possibly with the exception of a couple pieces where I want to show a scene that doesn't have her in it.
A lot of what this chapter's for is showing the lifestyle Evangeline has. The country's in the middle of World War II, so I tried to be as realistic as possible in how she lived. I also spoke about the Depression and how it affected those around her.
Also, as a warning, updates are going to get further apart from here on out. School's starting up again, so my schedule's going to make it harder to find time to write. I promise I'll try to keep updates somewhat frequent.
Thanks again to all my reviewers! As long as I know you're reading, I'll keep writing, so keep the reviews coming.
1943
It was a sunny, but very cold December day in New Orleans. The holidays were pressing down on the people like a plague, reminding them of the hard times and of those who wouldn't be home to celebrate. The hard times had become suffocating but normal by then. The Depression had hit stockholders and banks hard, and the magnificent city was just starting to recover.
Several of the houses in the wealthy district of town were still empty after their owners had lost everything to the banks, but some, like the La Bouff mansion, still managed to kick up a stir of excitement whenever things got dull. Unfortunately for me, I always managed to get stuck in the middle of it.
My aunt Charlotte was a party girl and a trendsetter, that much was painfully obvious about her. The only reason I have an up to date wardrobe and hairstyle are because of her. Without her need to perch me at the top of the social food chain, I'd probably have just kept my hair in a short, naturally curly cut than have it styled into the modern "juliet" hairstyle that made it straight until it reached my shoulders, where it gently curled into an odd poof. To my surprise, I actually liked it. A lot.
One thing I didn't like, though, was how every single year she insisted on having god knows how many people pile into our ballroom to exchange boring conversation and discuss politics for the sake of social interaction. Ever since I was old enough to understand, that sort of talk had never failed to be discouraging and negative. I guess that just came with growing up during the Depression then getting thrown into life during World War II.
Which is why every year I tried to talk her out of the party to no avail. I didn't see what was wrong with spending a nice quiet evening at home for Christmas Eve, but apparently she did. I was up in my room that cold December day when I heard her trademark screech vibrating throughout the house. I was on the third floor, and she was on the first. It was still loud enough to make me gasp and fall out of my desk chair.
"Aunt Charlotte?" I yelled out as I picked myself up and ran toward the sound. Another scream pounded at my ears and I knew it was coming from the ballroom. "Oh god." I muttered, slowing my pace.
The ball room was a huge space, large enough for several hundred people at least. It looked like it came out of a painting. A large staircase connected in to the second floor opposite a small stage made for the chamber ensemble to play. A table was being set up along one wall for refreshments and snacks. The rest of the room was for dancing, and I really hated dancing.
Aunt Lotte, coincidentally, was standing in the middle of the dance floor, fists clenched and blue eyes shooting daggers at two maids as they tried to hook some garland to the top of the staircase railing. "This will never turn out right!" She whined as she immaturely stomped her foot.
I shook my head and sighed. Sometimes it worried me that my guardian was more childish than I was five years ago. I walked past her, not even bothering to say anything, and climbed the many carpeted steps until I had reached the two maids. They looked at me gratefully as I took the garland and twisted it around the railing, securing it with a gold colored ribbon. "That better Aunt Lotte?"
"Little Miss Evangeline your are just a miracle worker." She grinned at me.
"I wouldn't call that a miracle, but alright." Exaggerations were a specialty of Aunt Lotte. "Gold matches the wall better. You should use it more." I advised her as I hurried to leave before she trapped me in that boring place for the rest of the day, but I wasn't fast enough. A surprisingly strong hand gripped my wrist just as I was about to reach the door.
"Please stay. I really need your help. These maids don't have a clue what they're doing." She begged, her bottom lip jutted out like a five-year-old's.
I had to make up a fast excuse. "I can't, Aunt Lotte, I'm busy."
"With what?"
I racked my brain for something to be busy with. The weather was nice, save for the cold, so I figured going out was my best option. "I have to go see Nana at Tiana's. The sweet potatoes are ready." Aunt Charlotte let go of me and sighed overdramatically.
"Well, if you must." She put a hand on her hip and held the other one up to point at me. "But the party's only a couple nights away and we're nowhere near ready. Be home by nightfall." Of course, since she insisted on starting the preparations of the first day of the month, the party planning was almost completely finished. The only real problem we had was food, but that would be solved later. Still, from years of experience I knew to just agree with her and get out while I could.
I pulled on my coat from a hall closet and scampered out to the storage shed I'd had built next to my Victory Garden. The door creaked as I opened it, and I coughed a couple times from the dust and other stuff that could be seen floating in the patches of sunlight that came through the window. It was dark inside, but I could see well enough to navigate around the towers of boxes holding canned foods from our garden that were ready to be shipped out to the troops. I always canned most of the vegetables the Victory Garden gave us to help the war effort, but some I saved to give to Nana Eudora over at her restaurant, Tiana's Palace.
Nana wasn't really my grandmother, but she's known me my whole life and insisted I address her as if she were family. In most senses of the word, she was my family. She spent nearly every holiday with Aunt Charlotte and I, and had helped take care of me when Aunt Charlotte had no one to help her. I liked our little family. It was small, and I didn't have much of a father figure, but we were all close and could tell each other anything. I didn't even feel the need to find out about my birth parents. I had everything I wanted with Aunt Lotte and Nana.
Tiana's Palace used to be one of the hottest spots in town to get a bite to eat. The best food in New Orleans could always be found there, along with some of the best jazz music. That was way back in the twenties, though. Once the Depression hit, business went bad. No one but those who managed to keep their money out of the stock market couldn't afford nice food like that. Aunt Charlotte said we were lucky that Big Daddy La Bouff, her father, had never liked the stock market and trusted no one but himself with his fortune. That, and Charlotte didn't know enough about the market to ever invest in it.
After the Depression, things got somewhat better for restaurants, but then the food rationing for the war kept Nana from getting a lot of the ingredients for the top secret recipes. To be honest, Nana wasn't the best with food. She said the recipes were her daughter's when the restaurant had opened, but after her daughter and son-in-law had moved out of the country, the restaurant had been left in her care.
To help her out, every once in a while I took leftovers from the Victory Garden for her to use. Tiana's Palace was all the way at the other end of town over looking the water. It was a fairly quick journey by trolley, but I could have dealt with a longer one. Despite the times, the city was buzzing with activity. Everyone was getting ready for Christmas, and good spirits were in as good supply as patriotism.
I could smell Tiana's Palace before I saw it. The smell never changed from the distinct aroma of its signature gumbo and beignets. The trolley stopped across the street from it, and I dodged traffic carefully as I balanced the large paper bag of potatoes in one arm and kept my small blue hat on my hair with the other. Nana had allowed me to have a key for the back door that opened into the kitchen, so that's where I entered as fast as possible to get away from the bitter wind.
The few cooks that the restaurant could afford were preparing for the dinner rush, though, like every night, there wouldn't be too much of one. I saw Nana taking inventory with a worried expression. Last time I'd been there, their sugar supply was running low, and I wondered if she'd managed to scrounge up a bit more. When I dropped the potatoes onto a counter the bag made an unpleasant thud that successfully got Nana's attention. She smiled at me and rushed to engulf me in a classic grandma hug that had me gasping for air.
"How are you, baby girl?" Nana greeted me. Though I was already 17, she never stopped calling me baby girl.
"Good. I brought some sweet potatoes. Nice and fresh." I pushed the bag in her direction. She looked at them like they were angels in disguise and scooped them up to pass off to another employee. "I had to get out of the house."
"Oh?" Nana raised her eyebrow. "And why's that."
"The curse of the Christmas Eve Ball."
"Charlotte's on a rampage again?"
"I barely escaped."
Nana laughed. She had one of the warmest laughs ever, and it could put anyone in an instant good mood. I couldn't help but grin with her. No matter what I had to tolerate, I always knew I could count on Aunt Charlotte to give me something to laugh about and Nana to help me laugh. "You go through this every year, Evangeline. When are you going to learn to stay out of her way? You know she'll just take advantage of those talents of yours." It was true. I had the uncanny ability to tell what went together well. Once, when Aunt Lotte had wanted to redo the entire interior design of the mansion, I had helped with a few rooms and she realized I had a bit of a knack for arranging things and knowing what to put where. Ever since she used me to decorate for all of her parties.
"The only way to avoid that would be to move out of the country. I hear Maldonia's nice this time of year. 'Course even then she'd have me help her though letters." I joked. Nana chuckled a little, but it sounded forced. I looked at her tentatively. "You okay?"
"What do mean? Of course I'm okay." I didn't believe her.
"You just sound a little…off."
"I'm fine. Just a little distracted is all. You know how these times are." Sadly, I did. Speaking of times…
"Oh shoot. Aunt Lotte told me to be back before dark. She can be so annoying." I complained, not keen on going back out in frigid weather.
"Now, sugar, she's only wants what's best for you." Nana paused for a moment and considered something else. "That and your party planning expertise. She's not the most selfless person in the world, but she's your family. Now run along before the sun goes down." She kissed my forehead and sent me back into the wind. I caught the first trolley I saw, thankful for the load of people to shield me from the air. The ride seemed longer going home, but I didn't mind. I gladly observed all of the buildings we passed, many proudly sporting propaganda about the war. There had to be dozens of posters with Rosie the Riveter plastered over bricks and cement encouraging women to do their part for the war.
I didn't hesitate in joining the effort. It had been my idea to start our Victory Garden, though I didn't really want to do much beyond that. I didn't like the war. How could I? I mean, no one liked it, but I had lived my whole life up to that point either in economic crisis or worrying about someone I knew getting drafted or killed. It wasn't unpatriotic to want a little stability in my life. Food was a necessity, that I understood, and if it kept our country from starvation, I was sure to volunteer to grow it myself. Plenty of people were. It was the fighting I didn't like, and I just wanted it to end.
The trolley jolted to a stop and I was knocked forward, though I didn't fall thanks to the pole I was clutching. I was on my street, so exited and leisurely strolled past the neighboring houses to put off having to face Aunt Lotte. The sun was only just reaching below the rooftops, so I had time. This part of town was much quieter than be the center of the hubbub where the market and shops were. The people were pickier and snobbier, and if there was as much noise as a barking dog they were ready to call the police. It wasn't terribly welcoming, but it let me get some peace when I really needed it. In this part of town, where everyone had enough money to last them the rest of their lives, it was like the war didn't exist, hardship didn't happen, and wishing worked.
I came to the gate of my house, but didn't go in despite my desire for warmth. I wanted to stay outside a little longer, where reality still existed.
Next chapter: The Christmas Eve party. Get ready to meet Evangeline's best friends, and maybe even some other interesting characters.