False Southern Gentility

Mary stood in the kitchen, looking into the pot. "Christopher," she called over her shoulder. "have you any idea what this is?" she asked as he walked into the kitchen shrugging.

"Not the faintest idea. Have you seen the girls lately? I know that Peter was taking them out riding a little while ago, but they haven't been back since then." he said as he leaned forward and hugged Mary close to his chest.

It had been two years since he had married Mary Threlkeld Luke and she had become Mrs. Mary Rudd...the second. He had grown close to her as she had helped him reconnect with his daughters. Mary had walked with them to parks and played with the girls as he puffed away on his cigars and laughed at the different jokes the girls talked about.

"No, I know that Elizabeth was going to take Claudia to one of the girls houses, other than that, I'm really not sure." Mary said as she turned back to the pot and lifted the spoon to her mouth. "Oh--" she exclaimed as she pressed the spoon towards Christopher. "taste that."

Christopher shook his head but opened his mouth obediently. "That's awful, what in God's name is that?" he asked as rubbed the edges of his mustache down with his fingers.

Mary shrugged as she picked up a few spices and flicked them into the pot. "Would you mind running and finding the girls for me? I do so need Elizabeth to find where she put my slippers last night, it's driving me insane." she said with a smile as she kissed him on the cheek.

He sighed, it was now, in the moments when she would kiss his cheek and smile, it was moments like this when he would think either of Christine, or the fact that their marriage had never been consummated. Yes, they shared the same bed, and yes, he would often pull her close to him, but they had ever actually...done anything.

"You're doing it again." Mary said as she turned around and faced him, bearing her spoon as if it were a mighty sword.

"Doing what again?" Christopher asked as he leaned against the wall, smiling at her the same way that he used to smile at Christine. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, like he did so many things, and returned to smiling at Mary.

"That thing where you just stare at me. I don't honestly think that you realize that you're doing it, but you do, and all of the time." she said as she laid down the spoon and walked towards him. "For once, tell me what you're honestly thinking about. Please." she said as she touched his cheek.

Christopher swallowed as he closed his eyes. "I'm thinking about you and I." he said with a sigh as he lifted her hand and kissed the palm. "I'm going to find the girls." he said as he walked around the corner and out onto their large front yard.

He sat down on the bench that was covered by the large shade trees. He breathed in the sweet smell of honeysuckle and roses. Christine had planted these roses here, she had said that it would improve the look of the house.

“Why are you planting those shrubs in the middle of out yard?” Christopher asked with a sheepish smile as she fingered the small green leaves on the plants.

Christine smacked his hand away. “Don’t do that, you’ll kill the plant. Do you want a dead rosebush in our yard?” she did not allow him time to answer. “No, I wouldn’t have thought so. Now, these aren’t normal bushes, these are rare blue roses, they bloom out in this lovely teal color.” She smiled as she patted the dirt with her glove covered hands.

“So you’re planting blue roses in-front of a black and blue house?” he asked with a smile as he helped the four month pregnant Christine to her feet. “You should be in the house resting, not playing gardener in the front yard.”

Christine wrinkled her nose up. “You know that I hate to be a sloth, besides,” she said as she looked towards the six more plants that needed to be planted. “I need to finish planting them before the weather turns. And I do so hate sitting inside all day long. I need the sun, it just doesn’t feel…” she paused as she pulled off her sun-hat and pushed her face towards the sun. “right.”

Christopher laughed as he plopped the hat back on her head. “You're going to make yourself horribly tan. Why don't you let one of the gardeners do that, you know, the people who are paid to fix our gardens?"

Christine rolled her eyes. "What if I want to get tan, excessively dark, like one of the Negresses? Then what?" she asked with a smile as she pulled off her gloves and ran each fingernail under a stream of water from her watering-can.

"Then I would have to divorce you." he said as he kissed her cheek. "Besides, why would you want to look like a Negress? I like you just the way you are, and if you stay out here in the sun much longer," he said as he observed her running her hand over the bend of her back, "you'll kill yourself. Inside. I think you have had enough for the day, I'll bring out Elizabeth and we'll finish up."

Christine smiled as she kissed his lips luxuriously. "Alright then. I believe you may be right, I am a bit tired. And this sun," she said as she tossed her hat in the air, "was and still is amazing."

Christopher shook his head as he ushered her through the yard and up to the front door.

He opened his eyes to the present as Elizabeth walked up the walkway, Peter following behind her with her bags slung over his seventeen year old arms. "I bought a few new dresses," Elizabeth declared as she turned her head to Peter. "Don't drop them, Peter!"

Peter grit his teeth and nodded. "I'm not going to drop them. How many blame dresses did you actually need?" he asked as he sat the many bags down on the paved walkway.

Elizabeth bit into her lip as she looked from one bag to the next. "Well, I would say that this amount isn't nearly enough. Would you like to take me back, or stop complaining?" she asked as she flashed the devious smile she had inherited from her mother.

Christopher smiled as he watched his adopted son and biological daughter stand off with each other. "No," Peter said firmly as he snapped his fingers to the doorman. "take these into the house, I shouldn't have had to carry them anyways."

Elizabeth shook her head in her ten year old disapproving way. "You shouldn't speak to them like that, you know." Peter rolled his eyes and proceeded to walk to the front door. Elizabeth followed him and then stopped in-front of her father. "May I pick one of these?" she asked as she fingered the petal of a blue rose.

Christopher smiled as he clipped off the flower and handed it to her. "Try not to touch the petals," he said with a smile. "if you do, it'll wilt quicker."

Elizabeth smiled as she tucked the flower behind her ear. "Isn't it pretty?" she asked with a smile as she turned her head from side to side. "Look how pretty my eyes look with it." she beamed as she fluttered her eyelids.

Christopher smiled as he stood and kissed her forehead. "Yes, very pretty. Now, where is Claudia? Your mother was looking for her." he said as he swallowed the word that he knew he had just called Mary.

Elizabeth shrugged it off. "I think she is in the back of the house. She has stolen some of Peter's old trouser pants and is now proceeding to run around the yard hollering one of those Rebel yells I hear the older boys talking about." she said with a smile.

Christopher shook his head. "What 'boys'," he used the term loosely, "have been talking to you about the Rebel yell?" he asked as he sat back down.

He suddenly felt very very old.

Elizabeth shrugged as she looked at the trees around her. "I don't know...some of the older ones." she said as she bit into her lip.

"How old?" he asked as he rubbed his forehead. This was what Christine had been for...for this, to help Elizabeth and Claudia, to understand their problems, to fix what he could not fix himself.

Elizabeth sat down next to him. "Twenty-two." she said quietly.

"Twenty-two, huh?" he asked quietly. He was counting quickly in his mind. Christine had been sixteen when they had met, or was it seventeen? He had been thirty-five. He could remember that one very clearly.

He had never really thought about it, but he had been nineteen years older than Christine. It hadn't seemed strange then, he was older than she, and life was as it should have been...in those days. But now...he couldn't believe what he was thinking...why, these boys that we're talking to Elizabeth we're only twelve years older than she! Oh, but age made a very large difference now!

"Do you think I could get married?" Elizabeth asked as she removed the flower from her hair and held it in her hands like a bouquet as she strolled up and down the pathway, humming the traditional wedding march.

Christopher swallowed at that thought. "No, not yet." Elizabeth scowled. "Now, don't look at me like that. You're mother was sixteen when she was married the first time, and do you see how well THAT worked out on his part? He killed himself. That's right, now, do you still want to be married...right now?" he asked.

Elizabeth bit into her bottom lip as hard as she could in thought. She was thinking over this question with such great intensity that she resembled her mother more than Christopher had ever seen before in his daughters features. "Yes." she smiled at him; Christopher placed his head in his hands.

"I'll tell you what. When you turn fifteen, then I'll let you be married." Christopher was praying that this was a phase, as had been many of the things that Elizabeth had ever desired, and would pass as quickly as her obsession with becoming the first woman to vote or be President had faded.

Elizabeth sighed but nodded. "Alright then, but I want it in writing." Christopher watched with stark confusion as Elizabeth withdrew a small piece of paper and a new fountain pen. She scrawled a few words on the paper and then nodded in satisfaction. "There," she said with finality in her voice. "now, sigh here."

Christopher looked at the three different blanks on the paper, and swallowed. Why was his daughter so damned smart? Peter wasn't this smart, was he? Of course Peter wasn't, Peter couldn't handle a dead mule, let-alone a contract like the one that Elizabeth had drawn up.

"No, not there," Elizabeth squealed as she moved her father's hand out of the way. "that's where I sign. You sign here," she moved his hand until he caught the feeling of signing his name, "and here." she said with a smile as he signed the last blank.

She nodded with satisfaction as she pulled the paper into the air and blew on it. After folding it carefully, she put her hand out towards her stunned father. "A pleasure doing business with you." the specific tilt of her head and the gleam in her eyes reminded Christopher of Christine when she had made a 'bad deal into a good one', and for some reason, he had the same feeling that Christine gave him after he had done business with her.

That he had been outsmarted and perhaps even a bit cheated.