An Old Fashioned Southern Romance Novel (3 page)

“
Even if that were true, can you blame her? I mean, look how you are carrying on. Maybe she just wants her daughter to be with her own kind.”

“Exactly!” Caroline continued.

“You are positively touched! You get upset if the Blacks want to be too much around Whites and you get upset when they don’t want to be around us at all. You will never be happy because you just don’t like them,” Annabella had finally figured out.

“That is
a lie. I loved my mammy. But, like all the others, she took her money and left.”

“Caroline, it’s called growing up. She was never yours to begin with. She was there for a season. I guarantee if you had a White mammy, she would have eventually left too.”

“Just like Hattie is going to leave you. As soon as she pays for her daughter’s expenses, she won’t need your money anymore and she is going to leave your magnolia-white posterior high and dry.”

Annabella looked out the grand windows and
peered at the lighthouse. It saddened her to think about the reality that one day Hattie would leave. Hattie was not like those people Caroline described, but she was human and like anyone else, she wanted her own life. She was loyal to Annabella’s family. Unlike some of the other domestic help, no other family was able to lure Hattie from the Devereaux family with the promise of more money and better working conditions. Hattie was set on making sure Annabella grew up brave and strong. But, that task was proving to be more difficult than she anticipated. By all accounts, both Hattie and Annabella should have been out of the house over ten years ago.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a racist, your
nanny would have stayed around,” Annabella reasoned.

“Me? A racist? That corset has finally cut off the oxygen flow to your empty little head. I am the furthest thing from a racist. All I ever did was try to help the Blacks. They never gave a hoot about me. Never!
My father was more than fair to them.”

“Your father is practically the Grand Dragon himself. He has more sheets than Linens and Things.”

Annabella tickled herself. She took such delight in getting Caroline’s feathers ruffled and her face was as pink as a carnation. Annabella knew she had gotten the better of her girlhood friend.

“I am not racist and I will prove it,” Caroline assured her.

“How do you propose to do that?” Annabella took the bait.

“I am going to date Chadsworth Montgomery.”

Annabella’s face stiffened and her mouth dropped wide open.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she told her friend.

“I would,” Caroline assured her.

“Caroline, you do not need to prove anything to me,” she told her friend in her most southern voice.

“Apparently I do. I am going to do something you and your powder-white confidants would never dream of doing. I will show you for once and for all that Caroline Cordelia Collinsworth is no racist.”

With that, she flung her stringy hair and turned abruptly. She turned up her nose and walked away with a bounce in her step.

“As if,” Annabella said under her breath.

But she knew it was no use trying to talk her friend out of the idea of dating Chad. Caroline was as stubborn as a mule at a Republican convention. She was not to be handle
d lightly. Telling her that she cannot do something is the easiest way to get her to do something. Annabella was concerned, however, about the long-term consequences. She knew that Caroline was essentially pursuing Chad on a dare. But, what about when the relationship ends? Caroline was already considered damaged goods in their circle. If she dated a Black man, she would surely be unmarriable. Annabella hated herself for thinking such a thing, but she knew it was true. And soon she started to wonder if she was racist too, or was she just realistic. But, it was of no matter to her at the present time. She was in Martha’s Vineyard to have a fine time and forget about the treachery of the days that preceded her impromptu vacation. She wanted to relax, have a good time, and forget about the perils of being a rich, beautiful socialite living a mundane existence.

Chapter
Five

Annabella was mortified when she awake
ned for the ninth and final time. She could tell by the sliver of light peering through her magnificent view that it was way past the time any decent girl would have returned to her sleeping quarters. Caroline had been out all night and Annabella was worried that the girl might be somewhere lying in a gutter. Of course, there were no gutters to speak of in Martha’s Vineyard, most assuredly, but she was certain that her friend was in just as much trouble. She had not slept most of the night, awakening at the sound of every horn blowing, at blinding flashes of light, at the sound of young socialites frolicking gaily on the beaches and boardwalks. While outwardly annoyed, Annabella was secretly jealous of all those young men and women who knew how to have fun. She was so caught up in the identity she had fashioned out of her father’s social standing and her mother’s neuroticism that she was unable to free herself from the confines of the family name to craft her own. All she knew how to be was a prude. Until now, she was perfectly happy with it. But, now she was beginning to realize what she was giving up by holding steadfast to it. While she was holed up in her plush quarters, Caroline was probably out having the time of her life, tasting the sweet juices of life while Annabella barricaded herself in the house sipping on the staleness of tap water. She was supposed to be having fun too. After all, it was her vacation. She was the one who nearly had a nervous breakdown after mowing down her neighbor’s girlfriend. She replayed the event over and over again in her head, convincing herself that subconsciously she did it on purpose in a jealous rage. She was about to start doing it again when she heard the sound of keys rattling at the door.

“What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?” Annabella demanded to know.

“One would have to have had carnal knowledge to become someone’s mother, Annabella. That being said, you most certainly do not qualify to be mine.”

“Don’t you have any shame?”
Annabella attempted to make her accountable.

“The only thing I am ashamed of is that you are my closest and dearest friend. I shudder to think tha
t I could do no better than you,” Caroline retorted.

“Where have you been?”
Annabella continued to press.

“With Chad, of course.”

Annabella tossed herself backwards onto the bed and collapsed with her arms in the air. “Just kill me! Just kill me now! I will never be able to live this down!”

“Annabella, you are positively the most dramatic belle in all the south. But, in case you didn’t notice, we are not in the south anymore. Things are more progressive up here.
”

“I am not the least bit concerned with the racial makeup of one Mr. Chadsworth
Montgomery. I am sadly more concerned about your virtue, or lack thereof.”

“Oh, please, Annabella. My virtue has long since dissipated. Even
I
don’t miss it anymore. Now, don’t you want to know all the details?”

“Never! Lest I find myself impregnated by the mere lascivious details of your meaningless romp
.”

“I don’t know what you just said, and I’ve known you most of my life.”

“I do not want to hear one word,” Annabella assured her friend.

“Fine. I wi
ll just go get some rest for our date tonight,” Caroline bragged.

“Tonight? You are going to see him again?”

“Of course. He is a lot of fun and he is so charming. He’s not like-”

“Like what, Caroline?” Annabella pressured her friend.

“Nothing.”

“Go ahead and say it. You know you want to.”

“I am not racist, Annabella.”

“Me think ye
doth protest too much, Caroline.”

“He’s just not like other Black people I know.”

“Caroline, what
other
Black people do you know?”

“Like Hattie. He’s not gre
edy, selfish, ignorant.”

“How is it that my housekeeper always ends up in our conversation? Why do you hate her so much?”

“You want the truth, Annabella?” Caroline asked.

“Of course I want the truth,
” Annabella continued.

“The truth is that she is the reason you are the way you are. She always put you on a pedestal and made you think you were the Queen of
the World. No one and nothing was ever good enough for her Annabella. And now look at you. You are getting old, Hattie is on her way out the door, and you are about to be all alone.”

Annabella was stunned. Sh
e had no idea her friend felt the way she did. She was not hurt by the revelation, but certainly surprised. She thought for a moment before she spoke.

“It’s funny how two people can take two different paths in life, yet end up in the same place. You had a housekeeper too. She left you too. And now look at you. You are a
ll alone too. Your prospects are no better than mine. The truth is that we will probably end up alone
together
.”

Caroline dropped her head and walked away.

“So, is it true what they say?” Annabella tried to perk up her friend.

“I wouldn’t know. He barely kissed me.”

“Why Caroline Cordelia Collinsworth, are you saying you are an unscathed woman?” Annabella teased.

“For now,” she smiled.

Annabella and her longtime friend lay on the bed next to each other with their hands tucked under their chins and their feet in the air. They talked and giggled well into the late morning hours. It reminded Annabella of a simpler time when they were young girls dreaming of fairytale lives. Annabella was sure her prince would come and rescue her. But alas, she was aging and still alone. She often wondered what life would be like if she had been just a little more extroverted, social, flirtatious. It was of no matter now. She was entering the years of her life where she would have to settle. Most men her age were out having the times of their lives and actively seeking brides. If she was cooped up in her stately mansion, how would they ever find her? Her smiles and giggles turned into frowns and sighs. And when she thought she could not feel any worse, the phone rang. The ringing sound startled Caroline, who had never heard such a hideous noise. She was used to the modern sounds of her mobile device and wondered who on God’s green earth would ever use such an antiquated piece of machinery. She could not, for the life of her, convince Annabella to get a mobile phone. Annabella could not see the utility of such a thing. Who would need to reach her so urgently? Besides, she was always some place that had a landline. She had neither the time nor the inclination to subscribe to something so incredibly tethering. She believed that if something was of an urgent nature, she could be reached. So, when the house phone rang, she knew that it was something important.

“Annabella,” a strong
, groggy voice started.

“Warren, what on earth would possess you to call me here? Can’t you bear the thought of me having a little vacation? A little fun, perhaps?”

“Under normal circumstances, I could care less what you do with your inane life. However, since the matter involves me and my good name, I felt compelled you call you.”

“Warrenton, the only thing you and I have in common is a street name. What matters of mine would ever involve you?”

“Yes, and it was on that very street that you mowed down one of my lovely guests. As it turns out, she is suing the both of us. I need you to return home, so we can begin preparing our defense.”

Annabella was floored. She gasped, clutching the delicate strand of pearls around her frail neck.
There must be some mistake. Annabella barely struck the girl and what’s more, she was oh, so kind to her. How could Marigold be suing her? Annabella hung up the phone with Warrenton still on the other end. She was in disbelief, wondering how Warrenton’s perpetual lapse in judgment somehow has her life turned upside down. She felt like suing Warrenton herself. After all, he did trespass on her property to park that asinine vehicle in her driveway. She was as much a victim as Marigold and now she was being punished for having a selfish, dolt of a neighbor.

“What’s wrong, Bella?” Caroline asked, after what seemed like hours of not caring in the least.

“I have to leave,” she told her friend.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“It seems Warrenton’s jezebel would like to get her impoverished paws on my purse strings.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! I am so tired of poor people trying to capitalize off the rich. Even when they are successful,
they end up squandering it and go right back to being poor. When will they ever learn. The rich get richer and the poor get poorer.”

Annabella glared at her clueless friend. Caroline dropped her head.

“I know what you are thinking, but my family is the exception, Bella. We were always meant to be rich and so it was God’s destiny when my father finally made his fortune. You see, it’s not the money, it’s the mentality.”

“Caroline, give it a rest. You are not exactly Warren Buffett. More like you’ve been sitting on your tuffet. In any event, I must leave now. I will see you back home.”