The first thing Marian did when she arrived home was open the cedar chest holding her best linens and the clothing she no longer wore but wished to preserve for sentimental reasons. Among the most treasured garments in this chest were her wedding gown and the pink dress she had donned the night she first met Harold on the footbridge. But Marian didn't linger over her memories for long; removing her Paris ensembles, she laid them on the bed.
After careful consideration, Marian decided on the Chanel suit of gray-blue tweed, which had been one of Harold's favorites. But it was a sleeker, plainer silhouette than she was used to, so she paired the dress with a cloche hat swathed in a light blue scarf pinned in place by a pearl brooch, which gave her ensemble a touch of old-fashioned femininity. To finish, she added a strand of pearls with a cameo – a family heirloom Mrs. Paroo had passed down when the librarian reached her twenty-first birthday. Pausing to regard her reflection in the front hall's full-length mirror, Marian nodded in approbation – she looked stylish, but not too chic for River City.
But Marian didn't even make it to the sidewalk of East Pine before the first obstacle to her plans presented itself. After closing the door behind her, she turned and beheld Mrs. Shinn and the ladies of the Events Committee strolling through the front gate. The moment they caught sight of the librarian, they hastened onto the porch and arranged themselves in a semicircle around her, clucking and cooing like concerned mother hens.
"Good afternoon, ladies," Marian said politely, dazed by this unexpected outpouring. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"We heard from Amaryllis that you were ill and had closed the library," Mrs. Dunlop said kindly. "So we came over to see how you were doing."
"I brought you some of my chicken soup," Ethel added. "I always keep some on hand, for emergencies."
Marian smiled. During her first pregnancy, Ethel Washburn's chicken soup had been a godsend; often, it was the only thing the librarian could stomach on her more difficult days. "Well, that's very kind of you," she said gratefully, reaching out for the pot. "I'll put it in the icebox immediately."
"No, we'll handle that," Mrs. Shinn admonished. "You should be resting!" She turned to Ethel and said in her imperious voice, "Why don't you go put that in the icebox for Mrs. Hill?"
"Thank you, Mrs. Shinn, but that isn't necessary," Marian assured her. "I was ill this morning, but I'm feeling much better now. It was nothing more than a female complaint."
The librarian was no better at lying than she was when Harold first came to River City, but over the years she had learned to tell the truth in a manner that did not invite scrutiny or additional questions. Indeed, Marian was gratified to see the ladies nod sympathetically and drop the subject. Now all that remained was to figure out how she could send them on their way as soon as possible, without causing hurt feelings.
But before Marian could say anything further, Alma Hix, who had been gazing at her with narrowed eyes since their arrival, spoke up. "Where did you get that dress, Mrs. Hill? I've never seen anything like it in any of River City's shops!"
In all the fuss, Marian had forgotten about her ensemble; she was too caught off guard to do anything but state the unvarnished truth, "Oh – I got it in Paris."
Mrs. Hix looked chagrined, but the other ladies beamed at Marian. "Is that a genuine Chanel?" Mrs. Dunlop asked, gazing at the dress with fascinated eyes. "It's gorgeous!"
A slight blush colored Marian's cheeks. "Thank you, Mrs. Dunlop."
Mrs. Grubb let out a giggle. "Do you have any more new dresses?"
"Yes, do you?" Mrs. Squires asked eagerly. "I'd love to see the latest fashions from Paris. Wouldn't you, ladies?"
"Oh, yes!" everyone but Mrs. Hix chorused, and began chattering enthusiastically amongst themselves.
Marian sighed – she'd never get to the emporium, at this rate! She was already going to have to invite the ladies in for tea – which promised to set her back at least an hour – but if she was compelled to model her Paris ensembles for them, she'd be occupied well into the evening. But what could she tell them?
Suddenly, as though Harold had been whispering into her ear, Marian whipped up the perfect alibi. When the women finally quieted and looked at her with expectant eyes, she said regretfully, "I would love nothing better than to show you my Paris gowns. Unfortunately, I can't do that – it would spoil the surprise."
The ladies, whose avid expressions had begun to fade into disappointment as she spoke, grew intrigued. "What surprise?" Mrs. Shinn asked curiously.
Marian gave her an enigmatic smile. "I'm saving them for the fashion show."
Mrs. Shinn eyes widened, and she looked vaguely scandalized. "Fashion show?"
"Yes," Marian replied confidently, as if she had been planning this for months. She gestured in a grand manner, as she had seen her husband do so many times when he was presenting to a crowd. "All the latest fashions fresh from Paris, right here in River City! I thought it would be a wonderful fundraiser for the Events Committee. I will be elaborating on my proposal at our next Events Committee meeting, of course."
There was a tense silence as Mrs. Shinn considered the idea. Though she felt awkward and terribly vulnerable, Marian checked the impulse to say anything further, lest she oversell herself. Gazing at the mayor's wife with a relaxed, pleasant smile, she simply bided her time.
Indeed, Marian's patience was soon rewarded. "I think it's a marvelous notion!" Mrs. Shinn pronounced. "And since all the members of the Events Committee are present, why don't we discuss your proposal right now? After all, tempus fugit!"
Marian's smile froze briefly – she should have known she wouldn't be able to get off that easily – but she graciously replied, "Certainly – why don't you all come into the parlor and sit for awhile."
At that, the ladies began twittering excitedly again, and they happily followed Marian into the house.
Once the librarian had gotten everyone settled, she went into the kitchen to see what she could rustle up for refreshments. As she filled a teakettle with water and placed it on the stove, her sharp ears – ever alert to ensuring her daughters weren't getting into mischief when they were nearby – pricked up when one of the ladies spoke her name.
Marian paused in her actions, wondering if someone was calling her. But the voice wasn't loud enough for that, and she didn't hear them repeat her name. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she tiptoed over to the kitchen door and eased it open a crack so she could peek into the parlor. Marian felt silly skulking about like this in her own home, but she couldn't help herself. Especially not when she heard what the ladies were discussing:
"It's true – my son saw Professor Hill entering the music emporium around eight-thirty," Mrs. Squires was telling the others. "And when he passed by a few hours later, the light in his office was still on!"
Marian sighed. Only Mrs. Squires would have the temerity to gossip about a woman while she was comfortably ensconced in that woman's parlor. When Mrs. Grubb let out one of her infernal giggles, Marian had to restrain the impulse to march in the living room and throttle her.
"Do you mean to tell me that River City's 'first citizens' are actually having a marital spat?" Mrs. Hix said with a gasp, sardonically echoing Mayor Shinn's soubriquet for Harold and Marian. At first, Marian wondered at the bitterness in the woman's voice, but then she remembered that of late, Mrs. Hix and her husband were going through a rough patch.
"If it is true they're fighting, I do hope they patch things up soon," Ethel said wistfully.
"Why – so we can watch them fawn all over each other in public?" Mrs. Hix snapped. "If an argument is what it takes to get them to behave properly, then I'm all for it happening more often!"
Marian's eyes widened at this. She knew she ought to be offended – even from a woman like Mrs. Hix, this was a rather strong sentiment of loathing – but instead, she found herself feeling only pity. Apparently, Mrs. Hix's marital difficulties had left her with quite a bit of rancor in her soul, if she bore that much ill will toward a happily married couple.
The other ladies were astounded as well, to the point where they could no longer take pleasure in such juicy gossip about the librarian and the music professor's affairs. Mrs. Grubb even went so far as to cease in her constant giggling, and joined the others in goggling at Mrs. Hix.
Marian's spirits were further bolstered when she saw Ethel's eyes narrow. "Mrs. Hill loves her husband, as a woman should," she said coolly. "And her behavior in public has never been anything but appropriate."
For the briefest of moments, Mrs. Hix's expression was one of hurt and dismay, but then her eyes narrowed as well. "Do you think hairpins scattered all over the parlor are appropriate?"
Marian repressed a groan – would she never live down that foolish hairpin fiasco? After her and Harold's discussion that snowy January night, it had never happened again and, in any case, her hair was bobbed now. But that's the way things were in River City; no one ever forgot your transgressions, not even after you died. Uncle Maddy could certainly attest to that, the librarian thought wryly.
Once again, Ethel rose to Marian's defense. "For heaven's sake, Alma, are you ever going to give that old tale a rest? The only thing the two of them have done in public since then is exchange looks and smiles. I think it's charming they're still madly in love, after all these years!"
"Oh Ethel, you think everything Mrs. Hill does is charming," Mrs. Hix said derisively. "As to your 'looks and smiles' – they look at each other the way no decent people ever should while in public, not even if they're married!"
"Mrs. Hill has been a good friend to me and Marcellus," Ethel replied staunchly. "And I've never known a kinder, more generous woman."
"She's been a good friend to all of us," Mrs. Dunlop added. "If it weren't for Mrs. Hill, we'd probably still have my cousin Priscilla interfering with the Events Committee whenever she came to town!"
Marian let out a small gasp at Mrs. Dunlop's public dismissal of Miss Harper. Even now, Maud Dunlop still retained her sense of clannishness; Marian had never heard her say a word against Miss Harper, except to drop occasional hints in hushed, conspiratorial tones as to her true feelings about her cousin.
Even Mrs. Hix seemed surprised at Mrs. Dunlop's unusual forthrightness. "Well," she said in a subdued voice, "all I meant is that the two of them could stand to demonstrate a little more decorum, and quit trying to slip away to the footbridge when they think no one's watching!"
Mrs. Squires, who had been curiously quiet during this exchange, spoke up. "Alma, a few years ago, I might have agreed with you."
The silence this statement caused was one of the most palpable hushes Marian had ever experienced in the presence of these ladies. As she nervously wondered whether or not she should move away from the door – the longer she lingered, the more likely it was they'd discover her eavesdropping – Mrs. Hix recovered her powers of speech.
"Eunice Squires, are you saying you don't agree with what I'm saying?" she asked, sounding aghast. Marian was shocked as well – the two women usually saw eye to eye on most every subject.
"That's right," Mrs. Squires said matter-of-factly. "When Jacey came down with that awful Spanish flu, he was delirious toward the end. He thought he was twenty-two again, and we were still courting." Her voice softened. "Every time I entered the room, he asked me to go to the footbridge with him. Even when I told him no – and God knows it killed me to have to disappoint him – he still asked. He died asking me that." Mrs. Squires paused, and Marian saw rare, genuine emotion in her eyes. "The last time my husband had invited me to the footbridge was in 1902, the year before Eddie was born. If Professor Hill is still asking his wife to the footbridge, I don't grudge her for going."
Once again, the room lapsed into a deep, uncomfortable silence. Marian knew she ought to return to her hostess duties in the kitchen, but she couldn't bring herself to move – she was just as mesmerized by Mrs. Squires' words as any of the other ladies in the parlor. As Mrs. Squires sat there with a sphinx-like expression that belied her pain and sorrow, the other ladies' eyes began to glisten as they gazed sympathetically at their friend. Mrs. Hix looked abashedly pensive, as if she was reconsidering several of her long-held beliefs about the way the world ought to be, and Mrs. Grubb sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
Marian felt herself growing emotional as well, especially when she recalled what her mother had said earlier. Harold had always enjoyed excellent health, but how many more years would she be able to enjoy a passionate relationship with the man she loved, before the infirmity of old age claimed him? Marian's tear-blurred gaze dropped to her stomach, which was just beginning to take on the telltale curve of her condition. How many years would it be before Harold left his child without a father?
But she couldn't ruminate on such subjects for too long; her thoughts scattered when Mrs. Shinn cleared her throat. "Where is Mrs. Hill?" she asked with the brisk air of a woman who wished to move past an awkward and unpleasant situation as quickly as possible. "She's taking an awfully long time with the tea!"
"I'll go see," Ethel immediately offered.
As Mrs. Washburn rose from her seat, Marian hastily wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and retreated to the stove. But when Ethel entered the kitchen, she could not pretend everything was well.
"Mrs. Hill?" Ethel called out gaily when she entered the kitchen. Her expression softened into concern when she saw the librarian's downcast face. "Marian, is everything all right?"
Marian smiled ruefully at her old friend. "Ethel, I don't wish to be rude, but I need to get to the music emporium right away."
"Of course you do," Ethel said understandingly, and turned to go back into the parlor. "I'll help you get rid of everyone."
XXX
With Ethel's help, Marian managed to send the ladies on their way within half an hour. Though the delay had initially irritated her, she reflected that in the end, it ultimately proved a powerful reminder of the importance of cherishing one's loved ones. Mrs. Squires' sad story kept running through the librarian's mind as she hastened to Professor Harold Hill's Music Emporium, firming her resolve to make amends with her husband. Hopefully, Harold would be receptive to her overtures. If he wasn't, Marian was quite prepared to swallow her pride and say whatever it took to get him to come home. When she reflected upon the proud stance she had taken earlier that morning, an amused smile flitted across her face and she placed a gentle hand on her stomach. Even if she hadn't been in a forgiving frame of mind, Marian knew she would have to humble herself at some point. With her unborn child to think of, she couldn't afford to be stubborn.
Yet as she always did when she felt nervous or uncertain, Marian found herself adopting a distant, frosty demeanor upon entering the emporium. Fortunately, Harold was too occupied to witness her lapse into haughtiness; he was still in the midst of overseeing an afternoon rehearsal of the boys' band. So Marian was able to catch herself and soften her features into a kinder expression as she slipped into a back corner of the main auditorium.
Even after rehearsal concluded and the boys scattered, Harold did not observe Marian's arrival – upon dismissing his students, the music professor promptly disappeared down the hallway that led to his office. Penny and Elly, who were also ensconced in an out-of-the-way corner of the auditorium, also failed to notice their mother – as evidenced by their reaction when Theodore "Teddy" Washburn, the eldest of Marcellus and Ethel's three sons, walked by and greeted Elly with a shy smile and a hesitant, "Good afternoon."
Penny immediately turned protective. "What do you think you're doing?"
Teddy scowled. "I was just saying hello – not that it's any of your business."
"I saw you staring at her all through rehearsal," Penny pressed on, undaunted. "Half the time you missed your notes because you were too busy making cow's eyes at my sister."
Aside from feeling a queer pang of distress at this stark reminder that her daughters were indeed growing up at a faster rate than she wished to acknowledge, Marian's first inclination was to interrupt – she had certainly not raised Penny to be so rude. But some instinct made her pause and wait to see how things played out.
Indeed, Teddy Washburn proved more than capable of standing up for himself. "What's the matter – are you jealous?" he retorted with a grin. "And anyhow, she was the one who was looking at me first."
At this, Elly flushed beet red and firmly riveted her gaze to the floor. Again, Marian felt another pang of sorrow – not only were boys noticing her daughters, her daughters were noticing them back. Well, perhaps I'm being a bit hasty, she thought with amused relief as she noted Penny's expression of genuine disgust at such an idea.
Indeed, Marian's eldest daughter – who didn't appear to notice her sister's reaction – let out a derisive laugh. "Hah – as if I would want some chubby, buck-toothed ten-year-old boy ogling me! And you're a big fat liar – Elly would never look twice at you. So next time, you'd better keep your eyes where they belong," she said in a menacing voice. Her hands balled into fists.
Now things had definitely gone too far. Marian opened her mouth to intervene, but before she could say anything, Professor Hill's booming voice rang out from across the auditorium.
"Penelope Anne," he said sternly, "what have I told you about treating others with respect?"
In a flash, Penny unclenched her hands and refolded them in a ladylike manner. Head bowed, she turned toward her father and said in a demure voice, "I'm sorry, Dad. I was only defending Elly from being picked on. Last week, Teddy put a frog on her shoulder at recess, and I was just making sure he didn't try anything else."
"I did not!" Teddy protested. "That was my younger brother, Greg."
Her eyes blazing with fury, Penny whirled around to face him. "He only did it because you were too chicken to do it yourself! I heard you daring him – "
"Penny, that's enough," Harold interrupted in a firm voice. "Even if what you say is true, that's neither here nor there. You were the only one hurling insults today."
Penny's eyes widened in astonishment, as did Marian's. Normally, Harold was pretty quick to forgive his daughter's transgressions – especially when she apologized so beautifully.
"You and your sister are to go straight home and start on your homework," Harold continued. "I'm going to be drilling you thoroughly on your multiplication tables – Miss Meadows tells me you're both behind the rest of the class."
Elly's cheeks went from crimson to pale, and her head shot up. "But Dad, you said you were going to take us to the Candy Kitchen after rehearsal," she entreated. "And why do I have to be punished for Penny's bad behavior?"
Penny looked deeply offended. "Humph – that's the last time I defend you," she muttered.
To Marian's surprise, Harold still didn't soften. "Penelope Anne and Elinor Jane, since you insist on arguing with me, you won't be seeing the inside of the Candy Kitchen for the next month."
Penny and Elly gasped – though Harold was not averse to disciplining them when necessary, he had always limited the duration of his punishments to a few days, or in rare cases, a week. They looked appealingly at their father, but his expression remained inexorable. Letting out sad sighs, the girls turned and walked out of the auditorium.
Teddy still lingered, his expression apologetic as he attempted to catch Elly's eye, but she steadfastly refused to look at him. Penny, of course, furtively stuck out her tongue as she passed by. However, the boy's gaze was still fixed on Elly's retreating form, and he didn't even notice. Once the girls had exited the building, Teddy's shoulders slumped and he also began to depart – until he was called back by Professor Hill.
"Teddy," Harold said in a much gentler voice, "a new shipment of trumpets arrived on the train just this afternoon. Would you mind helping me unpack and polish them before they go on display in the shop?"
Teddy's eyes brightened, and he perked right up. Normally, Professor Hill had strict rules about such things and didn't allow anyone but himself or Tommy Djilas to touch instruments they didn't own. So instead of being an unpleasant, arduous chore, any member of the boys' band would have considered it a special treat and an honor to be entrusted with this menial but important task.
Marian's eyes glimmered with amusement at this Tom Sawyer-esque method of Harold's. She remembered the first time she witnessed the members of the boys' band cheerfully toiling on her husband's behalf – he had used similar guile to establish the hallowed "annual tradition" of waxing the floors, buffing the seats and repainting the walls of the music emporium's main auditorium. Yet she had never reprimanded him for this shameless ploy to gain free labor at the boys' expense. Even though he still retained a vestige of the charlatan, Harold loved his boys, and they loved him in return.
As Teddy smiled up at his beloved music professor, Harold gave the boy a friendly clap on the shoulder. "Why don't you go see Tommy Djilas in the shop, and he'll set you up. I'll join you both as soon as I finish some paperwork in my office."
"Sure thing!" Teddy said promptly, and hastened to do as Professor Hill requested.
As her husband wistfully watched the boy depart the auditorium, Marian gazed at him with a glow in her eyes. As dear as his daughters were to him, she knew he had always secretly wondered what kind of father he would have been to a son. Perhaps this time, he'll be able to find out, she thought with a small smile.
Marian decided it was high time she revealed herself. "Good afternoon, Harold," she said, stepping out of the shadows and walking down the center aisle.
Just as she was announcing her presence, Harold suddenly decided to call the boy back. "Teddy, if you could do just one more thing for me – "
But when Teddy turned and galloped back to Professor Hill, Harold was no longer looking at him. His attention was entirely fixed on Marian, a myriad of emotions flitting across his handsome face. First his eyes widened in astonishment at this unexpected meeting, and they grew wider still as he took in her Paris ensemble. As he stared at her, the love and longing he always regarded her with also stirred in his gaze, which darkened in dismay as he recalled the circumstances of their last parting. Marian would have spoken, but Harold's hurt soon faded into a deep sense of relief, which in turn gave way to exasperation – the same look he always gave her when she worked late at the library and forgot to notify him when she would be coming home. As Marian puzzled over this latter development, young Teddy Washburn broke the silence.
"You wanted me to do something else for you, Professor?" he asked, gazing at the adults with wary, uncertain eyes.
Harold paused for a moment, as if he was thinking quickly. Then he grinned and took a nickel out of his pocket. "Yes, son – after you're finished, go and have an ice cream sundae."
"Gee thanks, Professor Hill!" the boy said gleefully, and hastened to the music emporium's shop to help Tommy with the trumpets.
When Harold turned toward his wife again, his countenance was a model of detached nonchalance. Even though they were now alone, her husband looked at her in the mundane way he would have looked at anyone else in River City. "You wished to speak with me?"
Marian couldn't help being a bit chilled by his remote demeanor, even if she understood the reasons behind it. Still, she refused to let her husband's coolness unsettle her. "Shall we go into your office?" she suggested in a mild, pleasant voice.
His expression still betraying nothing but polite interest, Harold nodded his assent and motioned for her to follow him down the hall.
XXX
A/N – Well, so much for quick updates; life got in the way again! I will refrain from making any promises as to when the next chapter will be posted, but I can say that I am hard at work and have made some great headway on it.
