The Secret Bliss of Calliope Ipswich (31 page)

Snippet #4
—You know what I think is so sad? That nowadays elementary school kids can’t play kiss-and-chase! Some of my best elementary school memories involve being chased by boys at recess and chasing them back in return. Those were the days! Kids can get expelled for doing that now. It’s ridiculous. (Heavy sigh!) What is this world coming to when little boys and girls can’t even play kiss-and-chase at recess? Simple pleasures are being taken from us left and right. I’m just so glad that Warren Ackerman and Shay were able to play kiss-and-chase—just for the nostalgia it brings to those of us who loved it so much when we were kids. (That Warren…what a little dickens, eh?)

Snippet #5
—Photographs of vintage Tom Thumb wedding plays are very rare. And when you do come across one, it is very expensive! In fact, in my vast collection of vintage wedding photos, I only have one Tom Thumb wedding play photo (shown below), and I came by it purely as a stroke of luck! It’s also not as old as others I’ve seen, but I cherish and adore it. I count it as one of my greatest photographic treasures! Do you just adore the pastor to the left? What a cutie pie!

The little bride and groom in the photo below look to be more
Warren and Shay’s age. Too adorable! :)

And now that you have a wee bit of history on Tom Thumb
wedding plays, I’m sure you can see exactly why the idea so thoroughly appealed to the Ipswich sisters—
especially
Calliope!

The Bewitching of Amoretta Ipswich

by Marcia Lynn McClure.

CHAPTER ONE

“But it is what it is, Amoretta,” Evangeline reiterated. “We’re here now. We’re not going back to Boston. And Daddy is
so
happy here…happier than he’s been since Mama died.”

Evangeline paused, and Amoretta mumbled, “I know.”

“Calliope and I are finding things to like about the West,” Evangeline continued. She wasn’t nagging—only offering encouragement. Therefore, Amoretta wasn’t at all perturbed with her older sister; she just wished she owned a bit of Evangeline’s endurance and ability to make anything seem positive.

“Of course it’s very different here, but linger on the beauty of the vistas, if nothing else, Retta,” Evangeline buoyed with exuberance. “Just three steps out of town and the entire world seems to roll out before you!”

“And people are so kind and friendly,” Calliope interjected. “Everyone has been so welcoming and helpful. I know you miss Boston, Amoretta, but out here…” Calliope paused to inhale a breath of fresh western air. Smiling, she continued, “Out here things seem so adventurous and new. And after all, you’ve got a more adventurous spirit than either Evangeline or I. Quite frankly, I’m surprised it’s you who seems so unhappy with our move.”

Amoretta shrugged, still disheartened and nursing an inescapable feeling of lonesomeness—even for the sweet, loving company of her beloved sisters.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she admitted. “So many things flit around in my brain, things that worry me to near nausea. And yet they’re all things I know shouldn’t bother me at all.”

“Such as?” Evangeline prodded.

But Amoretta shook her head. “You both will think I’m silly, petty, and just a plain old pouty baby.”

“No, we won’t,” Calliope assured her. “We all have our secret strangenesses, Amoretta. All three of us.”

“Exactly,” Evangeline agreed. “Everyone in the whole world owns little idiosyncrasies. It’s what individualizes us. So tells us, Amoretta…what kinds of things are bothering you so? What’s keeping you from being happy here in Meadowlark Lake?”

Amoretta Ipswich looked from one of her sisters to the other. She wondered in that moment how miserable life may have been if she hadn’t been blessed with such loving siblings. She wondered how she would’ve endured her mother’s and baby brother’s deaths when she was just ten years old. She wondered whom she would’ve played with, confided in, and loved if not for Evangeline and Calliope.

She felt a smile curl the corners of her mouth as she studied her older sister. Two years Amoretta’s senior, Evangeline Ipswich owned the strongest, most persevering character of the three of Judge Lawson Ipswich’s daughters—at least that’s how Amoretta felt. Evangeline had been just twelve when their mother had died, and yet she had comforted and cared for Amoretta and Calliope nearly as perfectly as their mother had. Amoretta had always admired Evangeline’s classic beauty as well—her raven hair and dark green eyes. She’d always thought that, other than their mother, there was no more beautiful woman ever born than Evangeline Ipswich.

Amoretta looked to her younger sister Calliope next. Instantly a giggle bubbled in Amoretta’s throat, for there wasn’t a person on earth that could keep from smiling once they’d gazed at Calliope Ipswich. There was something in her countenance—a sweetness and implication of constant mirth—that bred amusement in whomever looked at her. Her sunshine-colored hair flounced when she walked, and her bright blue eyes seemed to hold the same twinkle of starlight. Calliope was exactly two years younger than Amoretta—to the day—and in that moment Amoretta grew anxious at the realization that she and her sisters were quite grown up. Calliope was already seventeen, officially a young woman, and somehow it caused a great melancholy to settle in Amoretta’s bosom.

Looking from Evangeline to Calliope and back once more, Amoretta sighed, for there she sat—Amoretta Ipswich, with her plain brown hair and her plain green eyes. There she sat (plain old Amoretta Ipswich) right between the raven-haired beauty of Evangeline Ipswich and the golden-haired loveliness of Calliope Ipswich. She always mused how simply kaleidoscopic the three of them seemed, especially for sisters. Raven hair and emerald eyes—plain brown hair and plain green eyes—hair like spun sunshine and eyes as blue as the sky. Yes, it was how Amoretta perceived the physical appearances of herself and her sisters, like the varying patterns that appeared in the kaleidoscope her father had gifted their mother one Christmas.

Oh, Amoretta wasn’t envious on any level. She just felt plain and simple in comparison with her sisters. She pondered a moment how different their personalities were as well, nearly as different as their physical appearances. Evangeline—strong, enduring, loving, and nurturing. Calliope—lighthearted and a bit silly-minded at times. Amoretta—adventurous, superstitious, and curious as a cat. She thought that if all three of Judge Ipswich’s daughters were combined into one, they might well make the perfect woman.

Amoretta giggled at the thought, and Calliope urged, “What? What’s so amusing? And you’re supposed to be telling us your concerns.”

“Yes,” Evangeline confirmed. “What’s bothering you? These things that are worrying you and keeping you from blooming where you’re planted?”

Amoretta rolled her eyes with exasperation. “Evie…you
know
I hate that phrase,” she sighed. “I’ve been hearing it from the moment we arrived here, and I’m tired of it.”

But Evangeline was neither vexed nor impatient. As always she smiled with understanding.

“Just tell us your concerns, darling,” she said. “Calliope and I will help you sort things out.”

Exhaling a heavy sigh of resolve, Amoretta began. “Well, things like…like…and I know it’s silly, for I know good and well Mama and baby Gilbert are in heaven and not here.”

“But?” Calliope urged.

“But we just left them there!” Amoretta exclaimed. “We just left them there in their lonely grave, all alone, with no one to visit and no one to talk to! It haunts me…haunts my thoughts in the middle of the night.” Amoretta wiped a sudden tear from her cheek. “I just think of them there all alone, cold when winter comes, no one to visit or talk to…no one to leave pretty flowers on their grave.”

“But that’s why Father had them buried together, Rettie,” Calliope offered, “so that they wouldn’t be alone there…even though they’re truly in heaven and not even in the grave.”

Amoretta nodded, brushing another insipid tear from her cheek. “I know that. But it haunts me all the same.”

“And what else is haunting you, Rettie?” Evangeline asked.

“I’m not telling you the other things,” Amoretta announced. “You’ll think I belong in the lunatic asylum.”

Evangeline giggled as Calliope said, “Oh, we already know you belong there, Rettie. That’s not anything new.”

Amoretta smiled, though she rolled her eyes with feigned disgust all the same.

“Come on now,” Evangeline said. “Out with it. What else is keeping you from—”

“Blooming where I’m planted…I know, I know!” Amoretta interrupted.

“Besides Mama and baby Gilbert being left behind, what else is it?” Evangeline asked.

Amoretta shrugged. She knew she might as well confess—for she knew neither Evangeline nor Calliope would let her escape their interrogation and efforts to help until she did.

“It’s the…well…it’s the S in the peelings, if you must know,” Amoretta purged.

“The Halloween apple peelings S?” Calliope exclaimed.

“Oh, heaven help us!” Evangeline sighed with exasperation.

“Four Halloweens running, Evangeline!” Amoretta reminded. “Four! You cannot deny the facts, Evie. Four Halloweens in a row, my apple peels laid out an S. Four!”

“I know, Rettie,” Evangeline said. “Oh, believe me…Calliope and I both know. But it’s only a Halloween game. You know that.” Evangeline smiled, rolled her eyes with amusement, and recited, “
Pare an apple, miss or mister, and fling the peel behind you. The letter it shapes begins the name of your lover meant to find you.
”

“Oh, wait!” Calliope giggled. “I like this one better.
Thrice around the apple go, with knife in paring whirl. Take the peel, and toss it back, whether you be boy or girl. Upon the ground the peel will shape the letter that begins your one true lover’s given name, spelled out in apple skins.
”

“I know it’s just superstition,” Amoretta interrupted, sighing with exasperation. “But some of us…some of us believe there may be a certain credibility to some superstitions.”

“But even if that old superstition is true, which it’s not,” Calliope began, “your apple peelings shaping S does not mean you were meant to marry Sylvanus Tenney! There are hundreds of men in the world whose names begin with S. Sylvanus is only one.”

Evangeline and Amoretta exchanged amused glances.

“I’m sure there are more than hundreds of men in the world with names that begin with S, Calliope,” Evangeline teased.

Calliope rolled her eyes, shook her head, and corrected herself, “Thousands then…if you’re going to pick nits, Evie.” Sighing, she continued, “Regardless, Amoretta, your S apple peels do not mean you were meant to marry Sylvanus.”

“And how can you be certain?” Amoretta asked rather daringly.

Calliope shrugged. “Well, it would make sense to me that if one superstition were true, then the others would follow with proof. And I don’t remember you ever bobbing for an apple and retrieving one with an S carved into it…nor do I remember you ever confessing to us having seen Sylvanus appear behind you in a mirror on Halloween at midnight. Therefore, you can’t convince me that the S your peelings have spelled out for four years running…you won’t convince me it was Sylvanus Tenney’s S, and there you have it.” Calliope gestured with one hand that she’d proved her point. “You never, ever once saw Sylvanus Tenney’s image appear behind you in a mirror held by candlelight at midnight on
any
Halloween past. Therefore, you cannot be sure it is Sylvanus’s S that the apple peelings carved out.”