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Authors: Ruth White

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This
is definitely exciting news.  “You are razzing me!”

He
grins.  “No, I’m not.  We’ll let her educate both of us.”

He
buttons up the front of my dress very slowly, then puts himself back together.

Dixie
begins to nudge us with her cold nose, as if to say she wants attention
too.  I pet her and she rolls over for a belly scratch.

“Thank
you, Brody, for bringing her.”

“She
was lost without you,” he says.  “She lay in front of your door night and
day.  I was tempted to join her.”

“Didn’t
your mother tell you that I wrote?” I ask.

“No. 
Except for the yelling, we haven’t communicated.  Roman told me about your
brother, but he said you were coming back.  I expected you every day.”

I
hasten to explain about Jewel.  “And that’s why I haven’t returned to
Charlottesville.  I couldn’t leave her behind, and your mother didn’t
answer my letter.”

“How
could your father treat his child like that?” he says.  “Did he ever hurt
you?”

“Not
physically.  He bullied me, but I am stronger than Jewel.  She is an
artiste, and as delicate as a flower.  She can’t fend for herself.”

“Of
course not.  I’ll take care of you both.”

“Surely
you jest, sir!” I hit him playfully.  “I will take care of my little
sister, and nobody will take care of me.  I will not be Curly Locks.”

“Curly
Locks?”

“It
means I don’t expect to sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam, and live upon
strawberries, sugar and cream.”

“I
never thought you would.”

“I
do, however, want you to help me find another job in Charlottesville.”

“Can
do.  I know practically everybody in town.  There’s bound to be
something suitable for you besides maid work, something that pays more. 
Do you have any idea where you might live?”

“In
a boarding house.”

“I
have a better idea,” he says.  “Remember the California bungalow we looked
at?  You can let it from me.  I’ll be your landlord.”

“I
can’t afford that!”

“Sure
you can.  You can help me with my tenants – the paperwork and stuff.”

“Oh,
Brody, the bungalow!”

“But
we’ll have to get an older female companion for you,” he says.  “It’s not
proper for two young girls to live alone.”

“A
chaperone?  Now I know you jest!  I don’t want some old prude hanging
around to give me respectability.  This is 1929!”

He
laughs.  “Okay.  Okay.  Just you and Jewel then, but I can hear
the tongues wagging all over town.”

“Isn’t
this ironic?” I say.  “As much as I wanted to be the modern girl, it
appears I have been sucked in by the old fairy tale after all.  My prince
on his white horse has come to rescue me.”

“I’m
not on a white horse, thank goodness,” he says wryly, “I’m in a black LaSalle. 
As for the rest, I feel I am the one being rescued.”

“How
so?”

“By
myself I didn’t have the guts to break it off with Angel and bring forth all
that wrath, but for you, Lorelei – for you, my girl, I found the courage. 
Anyway, let’s not dwell on the past.  Let’s look forward.  When will
you be eighteen?”

“October
nineteenth.”

“You’re
a mere child,” he says with a twinkle in his eye, “so we won’t talk about a
future together.  We’ll just get to know each other in a leisurely way,
and have fun for the next three

months.”

“And
when I’m eighteen, we’ll stop having fun?”

“Not
at all!  But let’s suppose you were older – eighteen, say, or even
nineteen, and some smart, rich fella got serious and asked for your hand?”

“Smart? 
Rich?  What about dashing?  Is he not dashing?”

“Oh,
yes, he’s very, very dashing.”

“Then
I might agree to marry him.”

“And
what kind of marriage would you want with this smart, rich,
dashing
fella?” he asks.

“I
know of only two kinds – happy ones and sad ones.  I’ll take the first.”

“Happy
is good,” he says, “but very happy is better.  Maybe you could tell him
you want a marriage like Blake and Lydia’s.  I’m dying to tell you about
them.”

“I’m
dying to hear it.”

“Lydia
is not a blue blood, as Mother would put it,” he begins, “but she’s very sweet
and  smart and pretty – like you.  And her crippled foot doesn’t slow
her down a bit.  She works hard right alongside the doctor.  When he
met her, she was even poorer than you are.”

“That’s
not possible.”

“Yes,
it is.  They told me the story last night.  He was a spoiled, rich
medical student, and she was working for pennies in a hospital, and sleeping on
a cot in the utility closet.  She had a hopeless dream of becoming a
nurse, specializing in midwifery.  Then he came along and fell madly in
love with her.  Lucky for Blake, she fell in love with him too, in spite
of the arrogance of the Waynes.”

“Dr.
Wayne is not arrogant!”

“Not
anymore, but his family is still.  Just look at his nephew, Luke.”

“I
don’t think Luke is arrogant.”

“You
don’t know him well.  Anyway, Blake sent Lydia to nursing school, and they
became partners in every way.  It’s obvious they are very happy
together.  This is what a marriage should be – a partnership.  I
don’t mean that every couple should necessarily share the same profession, but
they should have common life goals.  We could do this, Lorelei – I mean
you
could do this, you and that fella.  He could send you to the summer
program at the university.  You could both become literature scholars. 
Someday, maybe you could establish a highschool in a place where

there is a need.  What do you think?”

“But
he
might have a dream of becoming a professor at the university,” I
say. 

“He
could do that for a few years while you are finishing your education, but the
greater dream is to serve.  Don’t you agree?”

“Oh,
yes, Brody.  I agree with all my heart.”

“You
are still too young to consider marriage, so don’t think for a moment that was
a proposal from me.”

“Then
what was it?” I ask.

“Just
a suggestion for when you are eighteen or nineteen – for you and that chap.”

“What
chap?”

“The
one who loves you.”     

At
this point we hear a timid clearing of the throat close by.  “Excuse me,
Lorie.”  Jewel is standing a few feet away, nervously twisting her small
hands together.  “Bea sent me to tell y’all dinner’s on the table. 
She said invite Mr. Brody.”

“Come
here and sit,” I say, and pat the ground beside me.  “We want to talk to
you.”

She
remains where she is, and says quickly, “It’s okay, Lorie.  Honest, it’s
okay.  I’ll be all right.  I don’t have to go with you.”

“Jewel,”
I say, “you’re jumping to con….”

“I’ll
stay clear of Dad,” she interrupts almost frantically.  “You don’t have to
take me.  I’ll just be in your way.”

I
can see she is on the verge of tears, and I go to her and put my arms around
her.  “You
are
going with us,” I say.  “We won’t have it any
other way.”

“Absolutely,”
Brody backs me up.

Jewel
looks from one of us to the other.  “Really?”

“Of
course, Jewel.  Didn’t I promise?”

“Oh,
Lorie, I can’t believe it.  I can’t believe it.  Are you sure?”

“We
wouldn’t dream of leaving you,” Brody says.  “What grade are you in?”

“I
have finished all the grades at Deep Bottom,” she says.  “I would be in
highschool if we had one.”

“Well,
there’s a good one in Charlottesville,” Brody says.  “I think you’ll like
it.”

She
clasps her hands together over her heart and gives him a teary smile.

“Lorelei
told me about Randal and Doris and Willa,” Brody says to her.  “I find
them fascinating.”

Jewel’s
eyes go wide.  “Oh!  You know them too?”

Brody
and I laugh.

“No,”
he says, “but I want to hear all about them on the way to Charlottesville.”

“Should
I tell Bea you’re bringing Mr. Brody for dinner?” she asks me.

The
very idea of Brody and Dad eating at the same table makes me cringe. 
Brody sees my hesitation and answers for me.

“No,”
he says.  “Thank her politely, then tell her we have to be on our
way.”  He looks at his watch.  “It will be past midnight now before
we get home.  We’ll find something to eat on the way.”

“Go
now,” I say to Jewel, “and tell Bea in private that you are coming with me for
a short visit.  Then slip up to the loft and pack your things in my carpet
bag.  Don’t forget your drawings.  When you’re done packing, go down
Willy’s Road and wait for us.”

She
practically flies off the ground as she runs home.  Dixie scampers along
behind her. “Come on, Trixie Dixie!” Jewel cries.  “You and me – we’re
gonna be buddies!”

Brody
gets to his feet and says to me, “A few minutes ago I said something very
important, which you didn’t seem to hear.”

“What
was that?”

“What
was that!  I told you I love you!”

“I
heard you say that
some
chap loves me.  You didn’t say it was you.”

“Surprise,”
he says.  “It’s me.  This chap loves you. 
I
love you.”

“Oh.”

“Aren’t
you going to reciprocate?” he asks.

“I’m
only a child of seventeen.  What do I know about love?  Maybe when
I’m eighteen or nineteen?  I’ll let you know then.”

He
smiles and begins to pick the debris out of my hair, which I collected from the
woods floor.  Then we kiss again in the enchanted forest before leaving it
behind.

Late
tonight, I am thinking, as we are driving through Virginia under the stars, I
will whisper in his ear that I love him.

He
waits for me on the porch as I go to the loft and hastily pack my few things on
top of Jewel’s in the carpet bag.  Then I go to kiss Bea and the boys,
who, along with Dad, are at the table.

“Goodbye,
Dad,” I say softly, but he does not respond. 

Outside
Brody takes my bag, and I say to him, “I think we should make a stop at the
store in Deep Bottom.  I want you to do something for me.”

“Your
wish is my command, madam,” says he.

“I
want you to pretend to Mrs. Call that you are an official postal inspector from
D.C., and you are investigating the disappearance of certain personal
letters.  Remind her that it’s a federal offense to tamper with U.S.
Mail.”

“Will
do,” he says with a smile.  “Sounds like fun.”

We
find Jewel waiting on the stump, wearing the new dress I bought for her in
Skylark.  When she sees us coming, she jumps to her feet and skips happily
ahead with Dixie, without a backward glance at the only home she has ever
known.

As
Brody and I begin our long journey together, I say a silent goodbye to the log house
and to Willy’s Road, to the tangled woods and the Old Thing, to Starr Mountain
and the graveyard on the knob.  But I do not say goodbye to Mommie and
Roxie and Samuel.  They will always be with me wherever I go.

BOOK: Diary of a Wildflower
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