Hunter's Redemption. Eleni P Sianis
Читать онлайн книгу.
with a man not her relative or fiancé, or husband, and her virtue questioned. William had already given Grace our mother’s engagement ring, but there was another ring in our mother’s jewelry box with an onyx stone set in a platinum band with small diamond surrounding it.”
Mason looks on as a young Wesley presents the ring to Charlotte, and then says, “It’s like the night sky that goes on forever, like my love for you. Marry me, Charlotte.” Charlotte smiles and says yes as Wesley slides the ring on her slender finger.
“We traveled by train to Boston. Diesel trains didn’t make it to America from Europe until the 1930s, so we were fortunate to have lived during the era of steam locomotives. Although employees of the railroad companies were on strike quite often for higher wages at that time, the steam trains themselves were quite an experience. The South was known fo-wah having the most beautiful depots and railroad facilities. George Pullman was an acquaintance of mine and made sure Charlotte and I were given an exclusive tour of the parlor, diner, and best sleepers his Pullman Palace Car Company built for the train.
“We stood on the platform waiting for the train as its cylinder and piston cranked loudly to a full stop. Smoke pumped out from the chimney and floated like shadows all around us. A hot breeze from the smokestack blew past, bringing with it a smell of metal and coal so sharp you could almost taste it. Charlotte stood quietly, holding a handkerchief to her mouth. We stepped onto the train along with at least fifty other passengers, found our red velvet covered seats and soon heard the chuga, chuga, chuga, chuga, chug of the engines pushing the train onward. The experience of crossing trestles and going through tunnels just to emerge out to a glorious countryside felt like defying gravity and time. It was autumn, and the weather had finally cooled. The trees presented a firestorm of colors, and I noticed Charlotte watching the scene go by. Her large eyes reminded me of a deer seeking shelter near a lake when a forest is ablaze.
“It was on the train to Boston that we met Adrian Blake. Adrian appeared to be the most quintessential 1920s gentleman. Clean-shaven with a homburg hat, dark wool suit with herringbone pattern, and two-tone Oxford shoes. He was in his late twenties then, and aah must admit, he had a smile that shone a mile away, especially when he first laid his eyes on Charlotte.
“‘Pardon me, sir. Are the two of you staying in Chicago?’ Adrian asked as the train rattled along.
“‘One day to see Chicago and one night at the Palmer House. From there ’tis onward to Boston,’ aah replied.
“‘Boston! My, that is where I am headed. I have an idea for a new movie but need the right leading lady.” With that, Adrian turned and smiled at Charlotte.
“Her eyes lit up as she gently touched my elbow but leaned in toward Adrian with the next bump of the train on its tracks. ‘What’s the movie about?’ she inquired.
“Adrian told us about his big idea fo-wah a movie. It was a story set in a small town about a beautiful ballet dancer who falls fo-wah her dance instructor but gets sidetracked by some mischievous other dancers in the group. Eventually, she finds her strength and leaves alone fo-wah New York City where she becomes a famous dancer.
“When we arrived at the Palmer House in Chicago, aah was in awe of the majestic beauty of the place. Incredibly high and intricately painted ceilings soared above various well-dressed people. There were winged statue candelabras taller than myself. Don’t forget, at that time, aah hadn’t traveled that far away from Charleston, and Chicago was very different. It was bigger, faster, and so alive.
“An attractive lady around twenty-five years of age came up to Charlotte in the hotel lobby and complimented her scarf. She was slender with blond hair and hazel eyes. She reminded me of a picture of a French lady aah had seen as a boy. Her eyebrows so perfectly arched they might as well have been drawn by hand. Her high cheekbones sat on either side of her small upturned nose. Her coat and hat were burgundy, and her gloves and scarf deep purple. For some reason, aah still remember the pin in her coat lapel. It was a dragonfly with ruby stones. She turned toward Charlotte and enthusiastically exclaimed ‘That emerald-green color is very becoming on you! Isn’t the Palmer House just divine? Is this your first time in Chicago?’
“‘Yes, it is. I’m Charlotte,” she replies with an outstretched hand. The two women look pretty as they stand side by side. Farah, a classic beauty, and my Charlotte, her fiery green eyes giving away her adventurous spirit, try as she might to play the part of a Southern damsel.
“‘Hi, Charlotte, I’m Farah. Have you heard that the World’s Fair will return to Chicago in April of 1925?’
“‘No, I haven’t. I remember some talk between my parents and their friends about the last World’s Fair. I think it was in 1892 or 1893…’
“‘Well, this time, they are going to call it the Women’s World Fair to celebrate our right to vote and how different the world has become for women. I was just a little girl then, but I still remember going with my family on July 4, and there were absolutely no female speakers. The world is changing, thank goodness. I would like to become involved in the planning and organizing of our Women’s Fair, and you have to come back for it!’
“‘It sounds fantastic. Actually, I came here with my friends, and we are planning on making a movie about a dancer who moves to New York…but maybe we can change the set to Chicago during the fair. I’m sure it will make for a beautiful backdrop.’
“‘A movie! Wow, that’s incredible. I love movies.’
“That’s how the friendship between Charlotte and Farah began.”
Suddenly, Mason hears a knock on a door and Hannah’s voice. “Mason?” With that, Mason is immediately transported back to his bedroom as if nothing had happened.
“Yes, Mom?” he replies.
“What do you feel like having for dinner? I didn’t get a chance to make anything tonight, so we can order something for delivery, or I can pick it up. Italian?”
Not mentioning anything he had seen and trying to look as normal as possible, Mason thinks for a second about what he wanted to eat. “Let’s go Greek tonight. I’m craving Avgolemono soup and grilled octopus.”
“Perfect. Should I add an order of lamb chops?” Hannah asks.
“Sounds good, Mom,” Mason replies as Hannah smiled and walked out of the room. Mason waits a minute before getting up to close the door again. The moment he turns around, he is back at the Palmer House with Wesley, watching like a ghost as Wesley continues to narrate his story.
“Charlotte and aah were wed on a picturesque snowy January day in Boston in 1924. The event was spectacular, and Charlotte looked more dazzling than evah. Her wedding headpiece had diamonds that covered half her head, and her bouquet dripped down to the flo-wah. William and Grace rode the train in from South Carolina, along with a few aunts, uncles, and cousins. Grace said that she had never felt cold like winter in Boston befo-wah and couldn’t find anything warm enough to wear in the stores in Charleston. While the Southerners complained about the cold, they were few as most of our guests were Charlotte’s friends and family who lived nearby. Nonetheless, it was obvious to see who was from the south and who was from the north as us Southerners prefer to wear lighter colors while the northerners prefer deeper tones, and their women all had their hands in fur muffs to keep warm.
“The Vine Mansion where we celebrated our wedding was decorated with enormous ice sculptures and fountains of champagne poured in pyramids of champagne flutes. The chandeliers sparkled, and our guests seemed to share our excitement. All in all, we had around one hundred guests or so. The music was fast and loud. We all danced the Charleston to a live band. Charlotte, Farah, Lillian Tolbert, Adrian, and aah must have danced fo-wah hours before the final guest left. The five of us remained at the end, and instead of a wedding night alone with my wife, we were laughing and drinking before passing out upstairs in one of the mansion’s great rooms.
“Everywhere we went, it seemed that the universe was conspiring to help Charlotte succeed. Meeting Adrian on the train, arriving in Chicago, meeting Farah, the Women’s Fair, it was all