Monday, March 2, 1891

 

       Her dainty hands were finally warm again, and the flood of tears had just about ebbed as the suburban Maryland countryside passed beyond the window.  The early evening light cast an eerie, dim glow on all that was familiar.  As the train gained speed, the sway of the car lulled her deeper and deeper into thought.  This would be such a wonderful adventure and such a good thing to do.   It was important to get away.  Yes, it was necessary.   It was the right thing to do, she repeatedly told herself, as if trying to convince no one but herself.

            The hot tea with honey was soothing.  Chamomile tea was always a comfort, and Aunt Emily always seemed to know just when to have a tray brought in.  Even as a little girl when something distressed her, Auntie knew tea would be part of the solution.  Silently she wondered if tea would be enough this time, and wondered if she would ever possess the understanding, compassion, and love that both Aunt Emily and Uncle Isaiah exhibited.  She was glad Aunt Emily was with her, and that her own mother was not.  As dear as she is, it just doesn’t always help to have Mother involved in the situation.  No, this time it was best that Mother had care of the baby and that Mary have this time without encumbrances.

            “Oh, how negligent of me to have misplaced my fine kid gloves,” Mary silently and angrily reprimanded herself. “They were absolutely irreplaceable.  Certainly, I can acquire more, but these were such a special gift from Uncle Isaiah!  It was my twelfth birthday, I believe, or perhaps thirteenth.  That seems so very long ago now; so much has happened since that time.”

 Warm tears once again flooded her eyes and coursed down her porcelain-like cheek.

            “There, there dear child.  Are you feeling better now?” Aunt Emily’s soft voice inquired as she returned and settled her ample self into her seat.

            “Yes, thank you,” Mary answered softly as she mopped what she certainly hoped would be the very last of her tears. 

Opening the tiny silk bag, she stuffed in the soggy handkerchief and took out a freshly pressed one, just in case need be.  She drew and tied the delicate pink satin ribbons on the little purse, and gently touched the fine, soft fabric, reflecting that both the bag and the lovely handkerchief, too, were gifts from special people.  The dark rose French silk bag was a gift from Fred the very last Christmas that she was home.  The elaborately hand-embroidered fine handkerchief was a bridal trousseau gift from Mother.  She had had it for years, and it was worn terribly thin.  Mary wondered how many tears it had blotted.  Certainly, Mother had shed many … Father, Raymond, baby Julia.  She examined the remarkably minute stitches of the letter “S”, and the delicately fashioned leaves and flowers surrounding the monogram.

            “I wonder what we’ll find offered on the menu this evening.”

            “Pardon?”  She startled.  She was so lost in her own thoughts that even the familiar, gentle voice of Aunt Emily was a jolt.

            “Oh!  I am so sorry, dear!  I won’t disturb you further.  Supper, dear, I was just babbling on about supper.  Unimportant really.  I know you want to be quiet and to just be left to yourself for a time.  Well, that’s fine dear.  I know how distressed you are over the loss of your good gloves.  I’ll hush now, dear.  You just try to rest yourself.  Perhaps they will be found and turned in.  We’ll check in with the stationmaster in Chicago at our first opportunity.  We’ll have him wire Washington to see if they have been turned in.  Oh, dear, try not to be fretful!  I do hate to see you so sad.”

            Mary nodded and smiled faintly, but remained silent.   She wasn’t entirely sure how much of her distress was actually over the loss of those gloves.  Precious though they were, she could not help thinking about what the future would hold for her and Mr. Smythe.

Again, her fingers ran over the beautiful “S” on the thin, old handkerchief.  “S” for Stevenson her maiden name; “S” for Smythe her wedded name. 

“Honestly!  I cannot but wonder if any other woman on earth has ever found her husband quite as irksome as I find mine!”  Mary’s mind screamed to herself.  “The very idea of such a public display of that disagreeable disposition of his is most disheartening.  It is entirely one matter for Mr. Smythe and me to discuss our differences behind the privacy of the closed doors in our own home, but an entirely different matter for those issues to be taken into public places!  I was nearly speechless with that scene, and, may well have been the beneficiary had I remained so.”

            Another swell of tears spilled over, and, as Mary dabbed at her eyes, Aunt Emily leaned over and gathered Mary’s little hands into her own chubby ones.

 “Oh, dear, dear,” said Aunt Emily as she patted her left hand.  “You’ll be fine, child, just fine.  A change will help, and I do think you will feel better once we get a little further on.” 

            Aunt Emily knew these tears were not just about the gloves.

            “It’s just that George is so…so very exasperating!” Mary blurted out, followed by a loud and very unladylike sniffle.

            “I know, I know, Mary.  However, he is a good man really, and there is no doubt of his love for you.  A little time away will do you both good.  This time away will give you both a chance to clear those nasty old cobwebs.  George will be fine, and you know Fredericka will be very well attended to.  They will both be just fine.”

            Fredericka.  Mary’s thoughts snapped to her baby girl.  Time would prove that she would miss her terribly, and she was already starting to.  She was convinced, however, that she needed this time away, regardless of the cost.

Mary would never have entertained the thought of this expedition if not for being able to leave the baby with her Mother.  At least Mother consented to that much.  Although she strongly disapproved of this little jaunt, she was delighted with the opportunity to have her baby granddaughter with her for an extended time.  Mary was surprised that she offered to come to Maryland to pick up the baby rather than having her bring the baby up to Newark.  Oh!  It was so good to see Mother!  They both wished they had more time together.  She really is a dear, and really does mean well!  She loves Fredericka so, and will be so good with her….

“She will be fine,” Aunt Emily repeated as she patted Mary’s hand again.  “Just fine, and so will you.” 

            “Aunt Emily knows me well,” Mary thought to herself.  “Perhaps she even understands some things that Mother could not.  I imagine that Father was all that Mother ever wanted; all that she ever needed.  They were so much in love, and had only ever loved each other.  I’m sure there was never anyone or anything shy of death that would have ever separated them.”

       Mary lapsed deep into her thoughts of just how different times were now. Why, certainly many things have changed since her parents wed in 1852.   “This is 1891, for heaven’s sake, and I’m going to see and experience everything I can!  I’m a capable woman, and must think for myself!  I owe it to myself...and to my daughter of course, to experience all life has to offer!  Oh! This trip with Aunt Emily and Fred will be so grand!  Why, when Fred joins us…” Her thoughts tried unsuccessfully to capture that moment of reunion.

            “Let us freshen up for supper, dear.” Again, Aunt Emily’s words interrupted Mary’s wondering thoughts.

“I can hardly wait to determine for my own self it the fare is nearly half as fine as it is purported to be!  Oh!  This is such a lark!  Think of it, Mary:  California!  And once Fred joins us in Hays...”  She paused, took a deep breath, and clasped her hands together. “Oh! It will be just so wonderful to see Fred, won’t it dear?  Just like old times, when we were all together as a family... except with a new adventure!   We will see and do so many things!  Oh, won’t it be grand, dear?  You’ll have so much to write George about!”

            Mary returned the beautifully hand-painted teacup to its saucer. Yes, indeed it will be wonderful to see Fred again.  That, if anything, was an understatement.

            “Yes, I suppose I will have much to tell him,” Mary replied.

 Silently she wondered if George would even bother to return her correspondence.  He was so very angry!  She wondered if he would even care that she was away.  She wondered how he would spend his time, and she wondered…

            “Oh!  Enough ‘wondering’ for now!  I have a marvelous adventure ahead of me!” Mary barked silently to herself.  

            “Yes, Auntie, let’s freshen up, then move to the dining car.  I think a little supper would be good now,” she affirmed.

            “Oh, that’s wonderful, dear!  I’m just so excited!  I do hope they have fresh beef!  I would love a good cut!  And truffle for dessert!  Oh, that would be perfectly divine! Just perfectly divine!

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