Saturday April 22, 1933
14 days until the wedding
It was around noon when the doorbell rang.
Thomas the Third and Anthony – my little brothers, colloquially referred to as Tom and Tony – pushed away from the lunch table and sprinted towards the front door, clamoring over each other to get there first.
Mother put her head in her hands and Daddy chuckled. I sat up straighter, delighting in the fact that today's parcels had come so early. Perhaps because of our occupation this evening…?
Some part of me tried to quell that excitement, to not get my hopes up. But the better part of me knew I was likely right. I hadn't yet been disappointed by my daily deliveries, and it was getting easier to anticipate what would arrive next.
I was glad for the distraction. I was skipping lunch until the wedding, and sitting around the table with everyone during mealtime was torture. I had my half grapefruit and glass of water to keep me occupied, at least.
It was a good thing both boys had gone to the door; it was a two-person job to carry the box into the dining room. They heaved it up onto the table, climbing up onto their chairs for a better view.
"Boys," Daddy chastised. They knew the routine well enough already, but that never stopped them from trying to get the first glimpse.
Rolling his eyes, Tony pushed the box my way. It was a lackluster effort.
"Haven't you learned that patience is a virtue?" I chided them.
Mother muttered under her breath, "Don't waste your breath. They never learn."
I furrowed my brow. "They're nine and fourteen. Surely, it's not too late to teach them."
"Would you just open the present, doll, please?" Daddy chirped, sounding irritated. So Mother does know best, after all.
I stood and tugged on the ribbon woven around the box, then lifted the lid and set it aside. Instantly, the room was filled with the sweet aroma of roses and violets. And something else…
I peered inside. As always, there was a vase of violets – Royce often compared my eyes to violets – and as many white roses as we had days remaining until the wedding. Today, there were fourteen. There were several smaller wrapped parcels inside the box, and a note rested atop the pile. Daddy and Mother leaned forward in anticipation. Feeling like a tease, I picked up the note and opened my mouth, but froze before the words came out of my mouth.
"Rosalie!" Mother groaned. I grinned wickedly. I knew I could get away with this taunting; there was nothing my parents could do to punish me. My engagement to Royce had become a get-out-of-jail-free-card that no transgression was evil enough to overrule.
They wouldn't lock me in my room. I had too many callers, well-wishers, and events to attend to. Plus, my deliveries were the highlight of everyone in the house's day, even the help.
They wouldn't threaten to pull their funding for the wedding. The event was for them as much as it was for Royce and I.
They wouldn't hit my hands with a ruler, because I had an eight carat bauble on my left ring finger to show off.
And it had been years since I'd been paddled. Not that I hadn't done anything deserving of it – I'd sinned plenty of times with my parents' knowledge, but no punishment had come. I was the favorite, the Hale family's greatest asset.
And, I was about to be a married woman. It would hardly be appropriate for my father to paddle me mere weeks from my wedding day.
Still, best not to tempt.
Swallowing my mischievous glee, I read aloud from the cardstock stationery.
My beautiful Rose,
Two weeks from today, we'll be husband and wife! I am very much looking forward to seeing my gorgeous fiancée adorn today's gift at dinner this evening. Take note of the enclosed gifts for your family as well.
With love,
Royce King II
I sighed, tracing the ink on the page with my finger. It was written in an elegant script – too elegant. I'd realized weeks ago that Royce likely had one of the family housekeepers or nannies pen the note on his behalf. To this day, I had no idea what his handwriting looked like. It was thrilling – not just the mystery of the way his hands would inscribe, but also the notion that once I married into his family, I would have access to the same staff. They would become my staff.
That very same staff would be serving us at the King estate this evening, where the Hales and Kings would dine in celebration of the impending nuptials.
I decided to win back some favor with my parents. Plus, the whole ordeal would go more smoothly if the boys were sated. "Alright, who wants their present first?"
Thomas and Anthony thrust their hands roughly into the box, digging around for their gifts.
"HEY!" Daddy bellowed and slammed his open palm on the table. I could hear the silverware tremble in the silence that followed.
The boys pulled their hands back as if the contents of the box had zapped them, eyes wide and trained on my father.
"Good young men do not just bury their hands in things that belong to others," he continued firmly. "Do I need to get the ruler?"
"No, sir," they mumbled in unison.
"Am I clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Now, apologize to your sister."
"Sorry, Rose."
"Sorry, Rosie."
"Alright, then." Before I had a chance to verbally accept their apologies, Daddy cut in. "Rosalie, I would like to open my gift first, please."
Mother rolled her eyes and sighed, exasperated.
I chuckled to myself and searched through the box for a parcel with Thomas Jr. on the tag. I didn't need to look very long – Daddy's present wasn't wrapped, but rather decorated with a bow made of Tiffany blue ribbon. My heart soared – it was true Tiffany blue. I felt confident that my present would be the best one yet.
I pulled out a heavy bottle of tawny liquid and looked at my father, only slightly nervous. Though we were in our own home, I was clearly holding contraband liquor in my hands. I didn't want any hint of trouble over the next two weeks.
But Daddy's grin split from ear to ear. "Let me see that, Rosie."
I leaned over the table to pass it to him, watching as he examined the label. He held it up to the window, admiring the way the light changed its color, making me flinch.
"This is some of the best bourbon in the States," he mused. "Where do you think Royce Sr. found a guy who could get him this?"
Of course, my father knew how well-connected the King family was. But he was still getting used to the reality of having the entire world at your beck and call. And I supposed I was still getting comfortable with being above the law, as the Kings seemed to be. Daddy, however, appeared to be adjusting in record time.
"Royce Jr. has a friend in Kentucky," I offered. "Boarding school chum. He'll be here for the engagement party. I wouldn't be surprised if the Kings had this stockpiled in secret."
"Well, I'll have to ask tonight," he said, his dark blue eyes alight. Mother nodded, leaning over to read the label from the corner. "Hope they'll let me in on it."
I decided then that I should move on. Whatever dream Daddy had in his head, it was likely best if I didn't know.
Mother would go next. I pulled out the wrapped package marked 'Mrs. Hale' and passed it her way. Delicately, she pulled off the blue ribbon and crepe paper to reveal a palm-sized pristine silver handheld mirror. She gasped in delight.
"I'll use it when primping before dinner tonight," she said, holding it up and examining her reflection. "How apt. It'll fit in my clutch."
Eager to get to my present, I handed Tom his package, and Tony's right after. They appeared to be the same, at least from the outside. My suspicions were confirmed when they tore through the wrapping to reveal a box of what looked like individually wrapped chocolate bars.
"No way!" Tom tore the packaging open and the candies tumbled out onto the table. "There's so many!"
Tony gasped. "I can't believe it. A whole box of Snickers!?"
"Don't forget to thank Royce and his parents tonight," I reminded them. Though I was not looking forward to being in the house at the same time as the inevitable sugar rush that was sure to come, I warmed at the expressions on their faces. Few things brought me joy as much as seeing my little brothers' happiness. Though Thomas Jr. was only four years younger than me, I still saw him as a chubby-faced baby. And nine-year-old Tony still had some of his baby fat, so I could still pinch it when I pleased.
The smell of the flowers wafting up from the box brought me back down to earth, and I pulled out a thin, rectangular blue jewelry box. Tiffany's, indeed. Mother and Daddy both held their breath.
I popped the case open and was greeted with the brilliant shine of an amethyst purple necklace. Square stones adorned silver settings all the way around. It was breathtaking. My smile must have said as much, for Mother and Daddy were already smiling when I turned the box around to show them.
Mother fanned her face, embarrassed by her tears. She cried when she felt a surge of any emotion, happy or sad. Daddy let out a low whistle. "Wow, Rosalie. Incredible."
I gingerly picked it up and brought it over to Daddy's chair. He stood and swept my hair out of the way, fastening it around my neck. It sat just above my collarbones. I could feel my posture improve without effort as I held my head a little higher. Wearing it felt like proof that my regal status was being cemented.
I couldn't wait for Royce to get his eyes on me. I loved shocking him with my beauty. When he caught sight of me in new things – especially nice, expensive things – his eyes would pop out of his head.
I kissed Daddy on the cheek, patting his face, then turned to grab the vases and Royce's note.
"Enjoy lunch," I said, beaming at my family as I headed for the staircase, half grapefruit forgotten. I breezed down the hallway and into my bedroom, the furthest door from the steps.
I found space for the new floral additions, tsking as I realized Tom or Tony had crushed a few of the petals. It was a shame, but not worth crowing over. I was running out of room anyway, what with the sheer amount of roses and violets I'd been receiving. I'd bring some to Vera's next week.
I sat at my vanity desk and examined my new jewelry. Rather, I examined how I looked wearing it.
And I felt just awful for every other broad in Rochester.
