Vintage Fashions

by Mary Brunini McArdle

part 2 of 3

Work that day was torturous. I thought five o’clock would never come. I drove straight home, fed Coconut, and fell in my bed without eating dinner or unpacking.

The next morning I thought a lot about Isabelle’s relatives. Mavis was in her late forties, not all that much older than we. Becky — maybe late fifties? Lucy, Dexter, and Gene: mid-fifties; and Gilland was fast approaching sixty-five. But age doesn’t stop some things: love, hate, jealousy; oh, there was plenty of that. Was Mavis jealous of Isabelle? Was that what I had seen in her eyes?

And sterile women: what was left for them but their men? No babies to love, ever. Becky had perhaps substituted her dogs and it was possible someone was particularly fond of one or more of the horses.

Two weeks later Isabelle and I went to Cullman again. Now that it was the middle of May the spring season was on my mind. I couldn’t wait to see what the summer clothes in 1910 were like. But, as is so often the case in Alabama, we had one of those late cold snaps and the weather turned nasty. Wind and rain the whole time; we had to opt for indoor activities.

Velvet and satin dinner dresses still, and somber long-sleeved morning dresses; we played a lot of cards and dragged meals out as long as we could. This was a good thing in one way: I had more time to observe. And petty tiffs and jealousies are always worse when people are confined indoors.

Sure enough, when I descended the staircase for dinner Friday evening, I heard the sound of angry voices. I paused, listening intently.

“There’s nothing worse than a bored rich man!” This was Lucy.

And Dexter: “You could do something about that, my dear.”

“You’re just as boring in bed. You don’t even try anymore.”

“A little more frequency might be helpful.”

“I’m afraid I lack the motivation. Especially when I know who you really want and can’t have.”

I coughed and cleared my throat.

“Gina, darling. Ready to go in for dinner?” Lucy put on about the pastiest smile I’d ever seen.

“Yes, thank you.”

“I believe we’re having duck.”

We filed into the dining room, my head jumping with new thoughts. Sweet, loving Lucy and bright, watchful Dexter. Who would have thought it!

I spent dinner watching their eyes, my attention off Mavis for once. Lucy and Dexter looked at everyone but each other, and Lucy frowned at Isabelle more than once. Becky and Gene ate as though they were starving; Gilland fooled prissily with his silverware.

“Has Dexter ever come on to you?” I asked Isabelle later that night.

“Good heavens, Gina! No.”

Eunice knocked to turn down our beds. We were in my room.

Something from the back of my mind jumped forward. Eunice was the upstairs maid; Joseph, a sort of butler. In addition were Margaret the cook, a couple of stable boys, a downstairs maid, and three groundskeepers.

“Isabelle, where do the servants live?”

“Margaret has a room behind the kitchen; Joseph a cottage on the grounds. The others come in from Cullman. Why?”

“When you were a little girl, was the same staff here?”

“Yes...”

“But — I mean the exact same staff? Those stable boys are young. So is the downstairs maid. You grew up. Why didn’t they age?”

Isabelle’s mouth dropped open. “I never thought about it!”

“And the horses?”

“The ones I called by name are still here, Gina. Otherwise I’m not sure. But I don’t think animals are like us. Gilland told me once they are part of a collective whole, not quite individuals. Haven’t you ever observed, say a horse’s eye and that of a dog or cat and noticed how similar the expressions are?”

“I suppose. Isabelle, what about my car? When we drive up, what does Joseph see?”

“He sees us tipping a coachman to take the buggy away.”

“Hmmm. A phantom coachman. Isabelle, the servants aren’t real.”

“What?”

“Invite a couple of friends for dinner tomorrow night. We need to pinch them.”

* * *

The next morning Isabelle sent Joseph to an elegant house above Birmingham with invitations to dinner. We would meet a Mr. and Mrs. Edward Palmer, a couple Isabelle’s age.

We took great care with our dinner dresses; mine was a soft violet. Meanwhile I was quite busy at lunch. I awkwardly stepped on Becky’s toe, eliciting an exaggerated shriek; later I managed to bump into Gilland, and pretending to fall, grabbed his arm with sufficient strength to get an “ouch” out of him.

I’m going to assume now that the family, at least, is real, I thought. That afternoon Isabelle and I took cups of tea to a small parlor with a large window. Sheets of rain fell outside.

“Isabelle, I think I know who has your necklace,” I said. “And I was way off base. Mavis isn’t guilty. You and I need to search Lucy’s bedroom. Do she and Dexter share one or do they have separate quarters?”

“They have separate suites. But, Gina, why would Lucy steal my jewelry?”

“I don’t think Dexter is in on it or even knows. But Lucy wants to keep you at a distance. She doesn’t want you here. If she could have prevented you from reclaiming that single ruby she would have done so. Dexter is... well, he’s hot for you.”

“Gina, you’ve got to be kidding.”

“You’re a good-looking woman, Isabelle. I bet you were a stunner at twenty-one. Try to remember that party. Try to place the people that were in close proximity. I’ll bet Lucy was nearby.”

Isabelle was quiet for a few minutes, frowning in concentration.

“She walked over to me right before the lights went out.”

“Uh-huh, and she was up to no good. I imagine she was quite disappointed you ended up with that ruby in a ring. It’s pretty impossible to snatch a ring off a person’s finger.”

“I saw the ruby rolling on the floor in front of me, and dropped to my hands and knees to grab it. Oh, Gina, my neck was so sore. It took a lot of strength to rip a ruby and diamond necklace off that fast. I curled my fist around that ruby and started crying. Naturally everyone helped me search the ballroom.”

“And then?

“And then Gilland helped me up the stairs and told Eunice to get me some hot milk and put me to bed. The next morning he...he...”

“He gave you the check and made that awful speech.”

“Yes, and one of the stable hands drove me to a train station. When I got to Birmingham the first thing I did was to deposit that check and find a jeweler. I bought a setting from him, waited for him to put the ruby in it, and went to the hospital to pull my amnesia stunt. You know the rest.”

* * *

It was impossible to check out the horses in the rain, especially in a long dress. Isabelle and I went to the parlor where we found Becky with her cards. Her dogs lay on the floor beside her. “Aren’t they darling!” I gushed. “What are their names, Becky?”

“The gray one is ‘Captain’ and the off-white is ‘Lady’.” Becky literally swelled with pride.

“Oh, may I pet them?”

“Surely. They’re very mild-mannered.”

I leaned over and stroked both dogs. They were warm and I could feel little hearts beating. Both tails wagged.

Real, I thought. The horses probably are too.

* * *

Proceed to part 3...