Arrangement
Meg’s mother was nowhere to be found, but when she walked into the kitchen, she found Kelly there scrubbing a pot, and she couldn’t tell if the beads of liquid running down her face were tears or perspiration. She instantly felt awful for how she’d treated her friend.
Noticing her entering the room, Kelly shouted over her shoulder, “Don’t worry. As soon as I finish this pot, I’m off to find a stocking.”
Leaning on the counter next to her, Meg said, “I’m sorry, Kelly.” She ignored her, still concentrating on the pot, scrubbing so viciously, Meg thought she might tear a fingertip off. “I only said those things because… because I was afraid of losing you. That’s all.”
“I already told you that will never happen,” Kelly replied, setting the pot back into the sink and turning to face her.
“I know, but you can imagine, from my perspective, how worrisome that might be, can’t you?”
“Yes, and that’s why it was difficult for me to tell you. But I was honestly hoping that you would be happy.”
“I am happy,” Meg assured her. “I’m very happy for you. I wish you nothing but a lifetime of happiness.”
“You do?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You’re certain?”
Meg held out her arms, and despite the drippy soap bubbles clinging to her hands, Kelly threw her arms around her. “You’re the closest thing to a sister I’ve ever had. We may not look alike, or talk alike, but we are family just the same.”
Kelly took a step back so she could look into her eyes. “You will always be my family, I promise. Whether we go to America ahead or behind you, nothing will keep us apart. Not the widest ocean or the holiest boat.”
Meg giggled, as that was not exactly what she was expecting to hear. She put her head on Kelly’s shoulder and embraced her even tighter, hoping that what she said was true. She honestly couldn’t imagine her life without Kelly in it.
A noise at the front door drew her attention, and Kelly pulled away. “If that’s the mistress, I best get back to my pots.”
Meg nodded and stepped away, absently brushing at the back of her dress, which was slightly wet from the suds. She entered the foyer to see her mother taking her gloves off, speaking to Tessa about something that seemed rather important. All she heard was, “If that price doesn’t work for that baker on Tenth Street, then go to the one on Fourth. I don’t like that one nearly as much, but I won’t be overcharged either.”
“Yes, madam,” Tessa said as she approached the door, clearly on her way back out again.
“Oh, Mary Margaret. Just the person I needed to see,” Mildred said, as if she were stepping into a place of business.
“I needed to speak to you as well, Mother,” Meg replied.
Her mother began to walk into the parlor, and Meg followed, not sure if her comment had even registered. Mildred sat down in her chair and gestured for Meg to sit across from her where he uncle used to sit. Lately, he did not spend as much time in the parlor as he once did. Now, most nights, he left work and went straight to the pub, and they didn’t hear from him until around midnight. Of course, Meg only assumed he was actually going to work. There was really no way to tell for sure.
“Mary Margaret,” Mildred began, “Your uncle and I have decided to go ahead and have your coming out party this year, for your sixteenth birthday.”
“What?” Meg asked, hardly believing her ears. “But why?”
“Well, while we know that many young ladies are waiting until they are eighteen or nineteen, your circumstances are slightly different, so we’ve decided to go ahead and have it done now. Then, whenever the Ashtons determine it is time to announce your engagement, we’ll be ready.”
“So you’ve decided to go ahead with the arrangement then?” Meg asked, leaning forward in her seat, still doubting her own understanding.
“Your uncle and I have discussed it at great lengths. It does seem that it would be the most appropriate choice.”
“You’re just willing to hand over father’s company to them?” Meg asked, a bit outraged at the thought.
“Meg, you know very little of what has transpired between your father and Mr. Ashton and between your uncle and I and the Ashtons,” Mildred replied, sighing as if speaking to her daughter was exhausting.
“Please, enlighten me,” Meg insisted, leaning back and opening her arms wide. “I’ve got plenty of time.”
“Actually, you don’t. We’re due over at the Townly residence in just a bit. They’ve invited us for tea.”
Meg couldn’t help but shake her head. Even before her uncle’s reprehensible action, she’d never felt a part of the group, never felt comfortable with others of her “social standing.” Of all the families to have to endure, at least Beatrice and Alise were tolerable. She even quite liked Alise from time to time, though now didn’t feel like one of those times.
“You should change your gown. Get Kelly to help you.”
Her mother’s voice cut through her thoughts, and Meg wanted to throw something at her for being so dismissive. “I want to meet Charlie,” she blurted. That wasn’t at all what she had practiced saying over and over in her head as she had made her way down the stairs early, but nonetheless, that is what had come out.
“Beg pardon?” Mildred asked, her eyes wide in astonishment.
“I said, ‘I want to meet Charlie.’ It’s only fair that the pair of us get to meet each other before the entire country—two countries—begins congratulating us on our engagement.”
“Oh, absolutely not,” Mildred replied. “I know what you’re on about, Miss Mary Margaret. You think that if you can get him alone, you can convince him not to marry you, don’t you?” Meg said nothing, only stared at her mother in shock, unable to understand how she could guess such a thing.
Mildred laughed, but it came out more like a cackle than anything sounding remotely like pleasure or merriment. “You seem to forget, Mary Margaret, I know you. I know more than you give me credit for, young lady. You will meet Charles Ashton when your uncle and I decide that it is time and not a moment before then. Now, go upstairs and get ready for tea.”
Meg stood, a defiant look in her eyes, her fists clutched at her side. Every part of her wanted to scream at her mother, “If you know what I’m on about—if you know my secrets—why did you do nothing while I was tortured? Why do you stand by while others are harmed under your own roof? Why do you look at me like an insect you’d like to step on instead of as your child, the only semblance of my father you have left?”
Instead, she said nothing, and fighting back the tears she would never allow to fall, she made her way upstairs to change her dress as instructed.
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