Lizzie Borden (14 page)

Emma found that she was trembling. Yes indeed, a change had come over Lizzie Borden. Never before would she have acted in such a manner. Imagine!

There’s trouble brewing here, and the last thing I need in this life is trouble from Lizzie.

She went back to her bread. She could understand Lizzie’s wish for privacy, a longing for a place of her own. It would be nice to have a place where she could do as she wished, without prying eyes or judgmental voices following her from room to room.

Perhaps the barn could be converted. Perhaps the old stalls could be torn down to make two studies, one upstairs for Lizzie, one downstairs for Emma. She could decorate it as she wished, even pounding nails into the walls to hang photographs. She could come and go as she pleased with no one knowing where she was at any particular time.

But that was the problem. Emma was needed at home, and the need in the house pulled her like taffy. She couldn’t even go to the store without the tether that bound her to this house pulling tighter. This household needed her. Without her, any number of dreadful things might happen. Father would most assuredly give all his money to that Abby woman and she, knowing her financial future was set, would without doubt deed it all over to her worthless kin.

Father needed watching, too, so he did not bring scandal down upon the family. He, who was so worried about his good name being sullied about town had the roving eye of a randy seaman. Many a time, Emma had escorted her father away from a situation he was only too eager to fall into. Why one time, when at a church social, Andrew had been introduced to a nice looking woman, a cousin or something of one of the members of he congregation. Andrew had stood, talking with her for a short while, until the woman excused herself, and then he began to follow her around. The woman was clearly uncomfortable about it, and Emma had to step in and take Andrew’s arm and escort him home before the woman began to shriek. Emma was sure it was innocent attraction on his part, but sometimes he had no common sense about him at all.

And Lizzie! If Emma wasn’t there to keep close tabs on Lizzie, she might get married, or some equally as disastrous thing.

No, this house needed Emma to hold it all together. And what made her situation so miserable was that none of them knew it, and none of them appreciated all the sacrifices she had made in their names.

Yes, Emma mused. A home of my own in the country where I could keep some laying hens and a milk goat would do me just fine. But it is not in my destiny. I must stay here and keep watch over the family.

For if I don’t, who will?

I only wish Lizzie would understand. I only wish Lizzie
could
understand. But she can’t. She won’t. She wouldn’t possibly understand the kind of commitment a promise to one’s dead mother means.

Emma turned the kneaded dough into a bowl liberally greased with bacon fat. She spread her towel over the top of it and set it on the shelf next to the woodstove. Then she washed her hands.

Father was still asleep on the sofa. Abby was somewhere. . . out with Sarah, her twit of a half sister, no doubt. Maggie was still working on the chandelier. Emma walked through the dining room and up the front stairs. For the first time, she thought she ought to knock before opening Lizzie’s door. But that was silly, and it was a precedent she didn’t care to set.

She took the key from her apron pocket and opened the bedroom door. Lizzie was in her rocking chair, letter in her lap, staring out into space.

“Lizzie,” Emma said. “I almost forgot to tell you. Kathryn Peters has invited you over for supper tonight. Six o’clock. I told her that you would be there, and if you could not make it, that you would send a message.”

Lizzie still stared into space.

“Lizzie?”

Slowly, her eyes focused on Emma.

“Lizzie, did you hear me?”

Lizzie cleared her voice. “What?”

“You’re expected at Kathryn Peters’ for supper tonight. Six o’clock. Are you all right?”

Lizzie looked down at the letter in her lap. “Kathryn Peters?”

Emma walked over to her, touched her shoulder. Lizzie quickly folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, of course. I’m fine. Six o’clock at Kathryn’s.  Fine. Thank you.” Lizzie stared off again.

Emma unlocked her bedroom door, went in and locked the door behind her again.

Lizzie was definitely not herself lately.

Lizzie stared at the envelope in her hands. Her mind had gone numb. She couldn’t concentrate on the news, she couldn’t begin to fathom the ramifications, she knew only that she had to
do
something, and she had no idea what.

Stop it, she told herself, and began to rock. The familiar noise her rockers made as they chewed over the same worn spot on the wooden floor settled her nerves.  Then she heard Emma’s rocker, and how fast Emma rocked, and a small smile came to her lips. Emma
worked
her rocking chair.

She stood up, stretched, threw the traitorous envelope on the bed and moved around the room, waving her arms. Motion. Movement. Something had to be done here, and the first thing to do was to move around, clear her mind, and begin to formulate a plan of action.

She couldn’t imagine what kind of plan she could make. The news was so startling. She was dumbfounded. Thrilled. Terrified.

She flopped down on her bed, grimacing at the sound it made. Father and Emma both had admonished her for falling like a ton of bricks onto her bed. But she heard nothing from Emma’s room about it, and Father was surely still asleep. She picked up the lavender envelope and smelled it. It smelled of Britain. She opened the flap and removed the letter.

My dearest Lizbeth.

I have the most wonderful news. Father has recovered his health enough to resume his business in most of Europe. That is good news in itself, but the better news is that his affairs have traveled as far as America, and I shall be coming over to handle things for him, as he will not be able to undergo a journey of that magnitude, at least for a couple of years. Imagine! We shall be sitting together talking and resuming our friendship on a more personal note very soon now.

I have booked passage, and will tend to Father’s business in New York City and Philadelphia. When that is finished, I shall come to your town, Fall River, and spend a few days, if that is agreeable to you. I’ll post a letter to let you know exactly when I shall be arriving, but I imagine it would be sometime in late July.

I can hardly wait, I am so excited. I must close now, for there are many things to be done all at once, and I am behind in my preparations. I will write a longer letter soon, and continue our discussion of the varied topics we both seem to find fascinating.

Affectionately,

Beatrice

The wording hadn’t changed in the second reading, or the third. Or the fourth. Beatrice was coming to Fall River. In July! That gave Lizzie as little as three months, perhaps four, to prepare.

Goodness!

In three months, Lizzie had to lose weight, fashion a new wardrobe, do
something
with the house, with the family, catch up on her studies, read all the business books Beatrice had suggested. . . There were too many things to be done, too many things to be done. Too many! She wasn’t ready. She couldn’t possibly be ready.

Hold on to yourself a moment, she thought. Beatrice loved you two years ago. She will love you now. As you are.

Lizzie’s heart calmed for a moment.

But
I
don’t love me as I am. Not yet. And Beatrice cannot possibly respect me when I am as slothful as a garden slug. I must make progress. I must make appreciable headway prior to July, or Beatrice will not look kindly upon me anymore; her friendship is at stake here, and I cannot afford to fail.

Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut tight and rubbed her fists into the sockets. “Lord, please, help make me ready!”

She sat up suddenly and pulled all the pins out of her hair. She fluffed it out with her fingers, feeling the heavy silkiness of it.

“All right, Lizbeth Borden,” she said, smiling to the ends of her auburn hair. “Here’s the challenge: In every way, in every thought and every deed, be the person you want Beatrice to see. Every thought. Every deed. Beginning now. Bold. Adventurous. Self-assured. Claim control of your life and
live
it.
Be
it.”

So saying, her heart calmed, the sweat dried on the palms of her hands.

I can be ready for her by July, she thought. I will just have to work harder than I thought I would. I shall be bold, adventurous and self-assured. And I shall begin now. Tonight. At Kathryn Peters’.

She slipped the letter back into its envelope and took it to the desk. The side drawer was filled with Beatrice’s letters, tied up in bundles with peach colored ribbons purchased at the drygoods. Lizzie added the newest letter on the top, then closed the drawer.

She smiled. I must be bold, adventurous and self-assured about Beatrice’s arrival, she thought.

She looked forward to seeing Beatrice again.

She went to the closet, threw open the door and wondered what to wear to Kathryn’s. Something different. But it was all the same. The same clothes in the same closet. Lizzie closed her eyes against them.

But the dark blue shirtwaist and black skirt always flattered her figure. They were silk, and well made. She would look nice, at least in Lizzie’s mind, and it was only Lizzie now that Lizzie had to please, right? Right.

She grabbed her bathrobe, then flew down cellar to her bath.

Kathryn Peters, at thirty-one years old, was just a little younger than Lizzie. Kathryn had been a classmate and friend, but she had a more outgoing nature than Lizzie, had been far more popular, and had gone on to study nursing after school. She had traveled widely and was considered as much a pillar of the small Fall River community as a spinster lady could be.

Lizzie had always enjoyed Kathryn’s company. They were both members of the WCTU and they had worked on various committees together. Lizzie thought of Kathryn’s shining teeth and dainty hands as she soaped the musky smell from her body.

Kathryn stood about five feet tall and could not have weighed more than one hundred pounds, all told. She fancied laces and dainty handkerchiefs, tiny hats with delicate veils, shoes so small they would fit in Lizzie’s hand and a small trilling giggle that leapt up the scale and charmed everyone within earshot.

Everyone in Fall River, at one time or another, wondered why Kathryn had never married. Surely she was not without her suitors, but she never seemed to take any of them seriously, and had never kept steady company with a single one.

Kathryn’s mother had died when Kathryn was small, another thing she had in common with Lizzie, but then her father had died while Kathryn was away at school. She came home to manage the affairs, which did not turn out to be a substantial task, and just never returned to school. She traveled often, managed the affairs of her dead parents with admirable aggression and lived on the income her investments afforded her.

Lizzie liked Kathryn. They seemed to mutually enjoy each other, yet there was everpresent a slight tinge of wariness in their companionship, as though neither truly trusted the other.

Nevertheless, Kathryn was very good with games, and Lizzie didn’t know if other guests were invited for dinner this evening, but she was looking forward to it.

Bold, adventurous and self-assured, she thought, as she rinsed and toweled dry with the first sun-dried towel since last autumn. I wonder how Kathryn will like my new approach to life?

~~~

Kathryn answered the door dressed in a stunning wine colored gown, trimmed in black lace. A white cameo gleamed at her throat, her hair was done up with a twist and it shone in the gaslight. She even had a touch of lipstick on, Lizzie noticed, and some rouge.

Lizzie hugged her hostess, and the first feeling of inadequacy of the evening came over her. If there was one thing about Kathryn that truly intimidated Lizzie, it was Kathryn’s diminutive stature. Tiny, she was, almost like a fairy. Lizzie felt like a moose next to her.

Kathryn kissed her lightly on the lips, then chattered away gaily as she took Lizzie’s cape and hat, and the two women went into Kathryn’s correctly appointed sitting room. Lizzie glanced into the dining room on her way past, and saw the table set for two. Wonderful. An intimate evening.