Vivid (13 page)

"Truthfully, I am."

"Why?"

"Because when we are together we
argue, and I don't wish to meet these Quilt Ladies while I'm in a snit."

"I hadn't thought of that," he
said. "Well, if you promise to be on your best behavior and not provoke
me, I believe we'll do fine."

"Me?" she croaked.

"Yes, you."

"Mr. Grayson—"

"Good night, Lancaster." He
tipped his hat politely and stepped back out into the night. She swore she
heard him laughing as the wagon rolled away.

The next morning Nate had already left for
town and Magic for school by the time Vivid went over to the Graysons for
breakfast. She found Miss Edna seated at the big dining table and they shared a
few pleasant moments of conversation while Vivid devoured a plate of stacked
oatcakes swimming in maple syrup. Afterward the women talked about the Quilt
Ladies.

"They're a nest of hypocrites
masquerading as Southern belles," Abigail stated frankly.

"Gail," Miss Edna said
warningly. "Now, you promised not to influence the doctor. She has to form
her own opinions."

"Ed, Viveca is not blind. She's going
to see them for what they are—a bunch of busybodies who think they're
saints."

Viveca interrupted. "Your nephew led
me to believe these women had a strong influence here in the Grove."

"Oh, they do if you happen to be the
one they're hissing at in church, or the person they're spreading gossip about.
They know how to make your life miserable. That's the type of influence they
wield."

"They do good works, too,
Abigail."

"Sometimes," Abigail admitted
grudgingly.

“Why are they called Quilt Ladies?'' Vivid
asked.

Miss Edna answered, "They've been
making the best-looking quilts this side of the state for two decades."

Abigail nodded. "Now that I agree
with. They can wield their needles."

Vivid smiled. "Do either of you have
any suggestions as to how I should go about making a good impression?"

"Bloodlines," Miss Edna stated
over her coffee cup.

"Bloodlines?" Vivid repeated.

"Bloodlines," Abigail said in
agreement. "Caroline Ross heads their little group, and she mistakenly
believes that the miscegenation in her ancestry makes her somehow better than
the rest of us."

"Caroline can be quite obnoxious at
times," Edna admitted. “Viveca, Abigail says your people have Spanish
blood?"

"Yes."

"Well, make sure you share that
information during the interrogation this afternoon. Once Caroline learns of
your ancestry, you'll have no problem gaining her approval and support."

Vivid wanted to gain their support because
of what she stood for, not for who her ancestors had been. “Are you certain
it's the only way?"

"Do you want their approval, or do
you want them hissing at you in church?"

"Their approval."

"Then play up your bloodlines."

After breakfast, Vivid returned to her
cabin and spent an inordinate amount of time trying to decide what to wear. She
didn't want to appear too prosperous, nor did she want to appear
poverty-stricken. In the end, she decided on a very tasteful white lawn blouse,
an emerald skirt with a thin line of black velvet piping at the bottom, and a
matching jacket. She'd already pulled her thick black hair into a chignon and
wore her grandmother's small emerald stud earrings.

She peered critically at herself in the
glass hanging near her small cot and wondered if she'd pass inspection. A knock
at her door startled her. It was Nate Grayson.

Nate watched her disappear into the
bedroom and return a few heartbeats later wearing a hat similar to the one
drenched in the rain. It was also emerald, but piped in black. She was a
stunning woman.

"You're staring, Mr. Grayson,"
Vivid said, pulling on her gloves. "Is my appearance that
unacceptable?" She wondered if she had time to change clothes.

He cleared his throat. "No. You look
fine."

"That's relieving. You had me
concerned. Are we ready?"

He nodded and let her precede him out the
door.

On the ride, they kept the conversation on
simple topics such as the sunny May weather and the landscape. Neither wanted
to be the cause of any altercation.

Finally, Nate halted outside a fence
surrounding a very large house set back from the road. Vivid stepped down and
nervously patted her hat. She checked to make certain her skirt hadn't become
overly wrinkled on the ride, then adjusted the sleeves of her jacket. When she
glanced at Nate, she saw him watching her with that same amused look he'd worn
last evening. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Nope. Just watching you."

"And?"

"You're nervous."

"I want to make a good
impression," she confessed.

"Nothing wrong with that."

Their eyes held for a moment before Vivid
said, "Shall we go in?"

"Probably. Caroline has been standing
behind the curtains since we drove up."

Vivid's eyes widened. "Why didn't you
say so?" she said as she hurried up the walk.

Nate smiled and slowly followed in her
wake.

"Please come into the parlor, we're
all anxious to meet you," invited Caroline Ross. The beautiful older woman
met them at the door dressed as if she were hostessing a Southern ball instead
of an afternoon tea. Vivid couldn't remember the last time she'd seen anyone
wear hoops in her skirt, but the woman moved as if she'd worn the swaying
weight all her life.

A glance around the sun-filled room
revealed crocheted doilies, lace curtains, and four ivory-skinned women who
appeared to be the same age as Caroline. They were seated around the parlor
with a regal air about them reminiscent of her Spanish aunts. Vivid nodded to
each of the women as Caroline named them in turn: Brenna, who stared at Vivid
with distant, violet eyes; Effie, who wore a faded yellow prewar hooped dress
and had fixed her graying hair in elaborate ringlets; Felicity, whose
disdainful glance made Vivid feel like a servant; and Poppy, who met Vivid's
eyes with a smile. Vivid wondered if they all lived here together.

"Thank you for escorting her,
Nathaniel," Caroline said brightly. "Please be seated."

Vivid sat on one of the elegant but old
embroidered-back chairs. She sat with all the poise of a queen, her back erect,
her chin raised. The ladies would find no cracks in her manners.

Nate sat in a large, overstuffed chair on
the opposite side of the room postponed far away enough for him to maintain his
neutrality but close enough so that he could watch the show.

"Ladies, I see the service is set
out. May I pour?" Vivid said.

The ladies looked at one another, and
Caroline, obviously the voice of the group, replied, "Why, most
certainly."

Vivid knew how to pour tea. She and her
sisters had begun serving tea as soon as they were able to heft the pot and
pour safely. She remembered many afternoons when she poured tea for her mother
and the older female relatives to show that she could do the job properly.
Slopping tea on one of the Spanish aunts or, Lord forbid, one of the guests,
meant polishing silver for a week as penance. Back then, Vivid looked upon this
task as just another one of those tedious chores her mother insisted she and
her sisters learn. She'd had no idea it would be a talent she'd one day need to
help sell herself as a doctor.

Vivid lifted the ornate silver tray
holding the filled cups and served everyone, then she took her seat. All the
women seemed impressed.

"Where did you learn to pour so
elegantly, my dear?" Caroline asked.

"From my
abuela
in
Mexico."

"Your
a-buela?"

"It's Spanish for grandmother."

"I see," Caroline replied,
staring at Vivid strangely. "Your people are Spanish?"

"Mama's side of the family came over
with the conquistadors. Papa's came in the hull of a slaver."

Caroline appeared to be speechless for a
moment.

Vivid politely raised her cup and sipped
daintily.

Poppy laughed. "Well, Caroline, now
that she's established herself as having the best bloodlines in town, do you
have another question?"

The violet-eyed Brenna gave Poppy a
withering look and said, "Poppy, if you are not going to take this
seriously, I suggest you leave."

Poppy turned and replied, "My dear
Brenna, must I remind you again under whose roof you are living?"

Brenna's vellum face reddened and she
looked away, evidently not in need of a reminder. Vivid was fascinated by the
exchange.

"Do you plan on treating men, Dr.
Lancaster?"

"I have been trained to heal both, so
yes," Vivid replied in answer to Felicity's question.

"You're aware the idea is considered
unseemly in most places?" Effie pointed out.

"Yes, ma'am, I am aware of that.
However, I can hardly be a true physician if I'm allowed to administer to only
half the population."

To her surprise, Effie nodded her head as
if agreeing.

Vivid spent the next hour answering
questions from Caroline and the others concerning everything from her
educational background, to her family, to her charity work. Vivid had done
charity work in San Francisco, and also during and after her medical training
in Philadelphia. This started a discussion of the tradition of Black women helping
the less fortunate members of the race. As early as 1793 the Female Benevolent
Society of St. Thomas, organized by free Black women in Philadelphia, aided
fatherless children and widows. In 1809 the free Black women of Newport, Rhode
Island, came together as the African Female Benevolent Society. In 1821 the
Daughters of Africa, whose members were the washerwomen and domestics of
Philadelphia, combined their extra pennies and paid out sick and death benefits
for those in the community. In 1840 New York City had the second largest Black
population in the segregated free North, but by 1827, the Black women had
already seen a need and formed the African Dorcas Association. They met weekly
in sewing meetings to provide clothing for the needy children in the city's
Free African Schools. Even in the slave city of Washington D.C., in 1828, free
Black women took it upon themselves to help their own under the auspices of the
Coloured Female Roman Catholic Benefit Society.

The Black women in Vivid's part of the
country were also actively involved in helping others. Vivid, in addition to
relating to the ladies her own experiences in the charity wards of San
Francisco and Philadelphia, also told them of Biddie Mason. Mrs. Mason, a
former slave, had become one of California's largest landowners. Her generous
purse helped establish schools, churches, and homes for the aged and infirm.

The conversation then turned to other
topics and Vivid gave the ladies her opinions on women and work, and her stance
on women and the vote.

Afterward they requested she play them
something on the gleaming piano on the far side of the parlor. Vivid hadn't
played in many years, and that became quite evident once she began. However,
she finished before anyone could go running from the room so she considered the
impromptu recital a success.

Vivid retook her seat, purposely avoiding
Nate Grayson's eyes.

"Well, Doctor," Caroline said.
"I know I speak for everyone when I say we find you most impressive.
Having you in our community will be a true coup. We have one request before we
bestow our blessings."

"And that is?"

"In order to protect your reputation,
would you be agreeable to having a male present in your establishment when
you're with male patients?

Vivid was nonplussed; she'd never
considered such an arrangement. "Do you feel that is necessary?"

"I do believe that would allay any
gossip, especially during your initial stay here. Gossip can truly ruin a woman
such as yourself. Wouldn't you agree, ladies?"

The ladies all nodded in agreement.

Vivid did not need a man to guard her
reputation, she had a rifle for that, but she forced herself to remember where
she was. Grayson Grove was neither San Francisco nor Philadelphia. Grayson
Grove was a small, backwoods town in Michigan, These women considered
themselves keepers of the town's morals, and she had to live by their rules if
she wanted to live here peacefully.

But a man in her office?

"What about Nathaniel?" Poppy
asked.

Vivid's eyes widened.

Nate sat up straight in his chair when he
heard his name.

"Poppy, that is a splendid
idea," Caroline replied enthusiastically. "No one would dare make
unseemly remarks or exhibit ungallant behavior in his presence."

They all began to chatter back and forth
like excited hens. Vivid held up her hands. “Excuse me, please. Am I to
understand that you are recommending Nate Grayson as my chaperone?"