Clues

Rain streaked the windows of the rolling train. Ramona watched as the raindrops blend together in a watery blur. She leaded her cheek on the cool glass, and the heat from her breath created fog on the icy window. For it being summer, the weather outside was unbearably bleak. Sarah’s letter lay crumpled in Ramona’s gloved hand. She had read it so many times she feared that the ink would soon disappear from the page. Her search in New England had not been productive. She had worn herself almost thin looking for her lost friend.  If she did not find Sarah at the next location she would abandon her search.  Ramona’s mind flickered back to a night, like this, when she and Sarah had curled up on Sarah’s bed to talk about the future. Sarah had gone on and on about being a writer. It was that night that she had shown Ramona her works under her pen name James Mullen.

Ramona bolted upright. James Mullen. Her mind raced with a swirl of uncontrollable thoughts. She un- crumpled the paper and found the line she had look at so many times:

Where I go, I shall no longer be Sarah Turner.

It all fit! She knew where to look now, though it would not be easy...   

Ramona could hear the echo of Sarah’s lark sounding voice, “One of these days I am going to New York. I will show the world that a woman can write just as well as a man. And you will come with me, wont you Mona?” 

New York! Ramona’s mind wheeled and turned, then the jubilation came to a startling halt. New York was one of the larges cities in the country, far bigger than Boston. How in the world was Ramona going to find Sarah in that city?

Father, she prayed, how am I going to find her? How?  Then it came to her from the dark shadows of her memory. A newspaper. Sarah had to be at a newspaper, and Ramona was going to search every single one till she found her friend. 

A Port in a Storm

Tears streamed down Ramona’s face as she lay on her bed. The afternoon light was shinning in her yellow room, far to bright for her discomfort. Her chest ached as she pictured the look in Sarah’s eyes when she had confessed the “truth”. The letter Sarah had sent her lay wrinkled at her side. Ramona’s eyes found the paper and she held it before her, blinking it into focus.  

And now, my darling Mona, I shall not tell you where I am going, except that it is not to Maine. I may once have been pregnant, but now I am utterly without child again. Where I go, I shall no longer be Sarah Turner.

And that was her biggest clue of all. Slowly she got to her feet and searched around for her old hat box and found it on a shelf in her wardrobe. She had not touched it since her mother had died and a thin layer of dust covered the faded pink lid. Lifting the lid she found dozens of folded pieces of paper. Each one had a prayer scribbled on it. It was her prayer box. Every time she had a prayer she would write it down on paper, date it, then toss it in the box. Once the paper was in the box it was in the Lord’s hands.  Ramona carried the box to her writing desk scribbled a prayer on to a fresh piece of paper, dated it, and placed it softly in the box. She put the lid back on then looked around the room. Relief and peace flooded through her veins as she walked back to her wardrobe. She removed simple clothing, a few blouses and skirts, and folded them neatly into her carpet bag. Ramona shrugged on her light blue travel jacked and was tying the ribbons of her hat under her chin when a knock came on the door.

“Yes?” she said, and Gerald opened the door.

“Madame, Mr. Magathan is here.”

Ramona felt hot color flood to her face. How could she have forgotten about Stephen?

“Um… Tell him I will be down in a moment Gerald.” He bowed his head and exited the room. 

Ramona paced the room for a few moments, thinking about what to tell him, then with a deep breath she gathered up her bag and went down the stairs to the Parlor.

Stephen was standing with his back to her, examining a painting of a garden that hung on the wall. His dark locks shown in the sun that streamed in  through the parlor window. Her breath caught in her chest at the sight of him. She wanted to run to him, and it took all of her will power not to.

“Hello, Stephen.” She said.  He spun around and smiled at her. Oh that smile.  Ramona felt her knees beginning to shake. She smiled back at him, but weakly.  His smile faded a little.

“Were are you going?”

Ramona thought for a moment. She could not lie to him, whatever Sarah had said. She would not tell him everything but she could not lie to him.

“I need to go find Sarah. She is in trouble and I cannot leave her alone, she needs me.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow. “What sort of trouble?”

“I cannot tell you, I promised not to tell.”

He nodded solemnly. She knew he did not understand.

“Stephen, I don’t like keeping things from you… But you must know that I would tell you if I could.”

“Mona dear, you do not need to explain anything to me. “ He walked over to her and put his arms around her, holding her tight. She melted into his arms and for a moment time stood still.

“Can you give me an idea of where you are going? “ he whispered into her hair. “I must admit that I don’t like the idea of you traveling alone.” Ramona looked up into his light green eyes and saw that he was truly worried. Her stomach flipped as she realized this.

“Do not worry Stephen, I will be fine. I have prayed about this and know it is what I have to do.”

He sighed and nodded. She knew he would understand in time, but she did not know how much more time they would have. He needed to understand now. She was tired of lies. He had to know.

“Ste” she said (her new nickname for him) “I know my friendship with Sarah does not make any sense to you, but you need to know that she is not just my friend, but my sister.” He raised his eyebrows again. “Well yes dear, figuratively.”

Ramona shook her head. “No not figuratively. She IS my sister, though only half blood. She is my father’s daughter.”

“What?” he whispered.

Ramona sighed. “I don’t know if Sarah knows, I don’t think she does, but I discovered this only a few weeks ago. I was going through some of my mother’s things and found a box buried in the attic. It had letters in it dating back almost twenty years ago.  They were love letters, they were not to my mother, but to my father. And they were signed from Katherine Turner.”  

Stephen’s eyes widened as Ramona spoke, and she knew he was trying to sort all of this out in his legal working mind. She looked at the grandfather clock, time was running out, the train would be leaving soon.

“I am sorry I don’t have much time to explain everything, Ste.” She said taking his hand.  He looked down at her, and she noticed tears were on the brim of his eyes.  Her heart ached.

“Are you crying for me?” She said, placing her hand on his cheek.

“My heart mourns for you Mona. You have been through to much my love.”

“My love?” She whispered, softly, stammering over the last word.  

His ears turned a vibrant shade of red as he nodded.  Ramona’s heart pounded in her ears.

“I love you, Ramona.”  Their eyes met and Ramona could no longer feel the pain she had kept built up inside her for so long. Every thing that had happened with William did not matter. He was in her past, and now, she realized she wanted a new future, a future with Stephen.

“I Love you too.” She said as earnestly and passionately as she could. Tears were beginning to leak from her eyes again. Stephen reached up, and brushed them away with his finger. A large smile was stretched across his face and Ramona could not help but mirror it. 

He bent down and kissed her softly at first, then so full and deep that  Ramona  felt dizzy when they separated. Stephen held her tight for a long time until he spoke.

“Please let me come with you.”  He whispered. Ramona looked up at him and smiled weakly.

“Ste, I have never done anything on my own. I have never known much of the world outside of Boston.  I need to do this alone.  I need a chance to be an adult.” She was trying so hard not to cry. Why did she always get so emotional?

He was looking at her again, with that blazing look that sent shivers up her spine.  Oh how she loved him!

“Then go.” He said softly, his eyes full of tender warmth.  Ramona hugged him again.

“I will write when I get to where I am going.” She said looking up at him again. He nodded and took her hand slowly up to his lips and kissed it. 

“I will not stop praying for you till you are back here.”

“I will return, with or with out Sarah. I just need to know she is safe.”

He nodded again. “Stephen, please do not worry. If there is one thing I know how to do, it is persevere.” She stood on her toes and kissed him. Taking in everything that she could, from his smell to the feel of his hair. Out of breath, she bent down and gathered her things. Looking into his green gaze again, she smiled.

“I love you Stephen Magathan. You are my port in a storm.”

He smiled at her. “Be safe my love.” And with her heart aching, Ramona turned and left. 

Our Place

Bugs swarmed in the summer air as George Ramsey made his way to his destination. The twinkle of stars were barley visible through the rising buildings and glowing lights of Boston, yet he did his hardest to find them as he walked toward the park. The glitter of stars always comforted him, and George knew that tonight was going to be one of the nights that he needed the comfort. In his left hand he held, a now crumpled, piece of paper. On it were scribed only two words: our place. He had known what they meant and when to go there. The summer crickets chirped as he made his way deeper into the park, following a familiar path that lead to a wooden bench. The bench was occupied, as he knew it would be. He approached and the shadowy figure came into focus.

“Hello Katherine.” He said, and occupant on the bench jumped.

“George! You gave me a fright.”

“I am sorry Katie.” He said softly as he moved to sit next to her. In all his years of knowing Katherine she has still managed to keep her youthful beauty. Her brown hair was speckled with gray, but to him she would always be young. Yet tonight there was something different about her appearance. Her hands were clenched in her lap and she had, what appeared to be dark shadows under her eyes that she had tried to hide with ample amounts of makeup.

“I am happy you came.” she said, her voice quivering for a moment.

“You knew I would.” He said tenderly, taking her hand.  He looked up at Katherine and noticed tears streaming from her blue eyes.

“What is wrong Katie May?” He asked, calling her by her old pet name.

Sorrow filled her eyes and she began to cry. “It is Sarah, George.”

“Sarah?” He asked.

“Yes. She has run away, and Tom and I don’t know where she has gone.”

George sighed. Sarah had always been rebellious, bit this was not entirely expected.

“Does Ramona know where she has gone?” He heard Katherine ask through her sobs.

“I do not know. Ramona does not speak to me about her friends.”

“Oh George how can you be so cruel? You know they are more than friends…”

George pressed his lips together. He knew Katherine would bring this up again. All he wanted was to be with her, yet all she could talk about was Sarah.

Sarah. 

“What do you want me to do about it Katie?” He asked, somewhat frustrated.

 She looked up at him, her blue eyes shining with tears. “George,” she said softly “She is your daughter.

George let a deep sigh escape pass his lips. True, Sarah was his daughter, but an illegitimate one at that, and she did not know, at least not to his knowledge. Nor did Ramona, and he was going to keep it that way.

“Katherine I am not going chasing after that girl of yours. If she has gotten herself into trouble then I do not want Ramona’s name tainted by association.”

Katherine looked at him, stunned.

“Tainted by association!” She squeaked, “How dare you! You have never been there for her, not once.”

“Katherine, she is my bastard and nothing more. Besides she looks nothing like me. How can you know she is mine?”

“George she is just like you! She has your brown curling hair, and your pig headed stubbornness. She thinks like you do, always planning her next step. She has a mind, and she is intelligent.”

“Which is proof she is not Tom Turner’s child.” He said sarcastically. Thomas Turner was not known for his intellect. He had bounced around from job to job, leaving the family almost destitute. If it were not for the money George funneled into an account they would be reduced to paupers.

Katherine took his hand and squeezed it tightly, and he returned the pressure.  She had been his sweetheart when he first came to America. Katherine had been hired as a recording secretary for his new bank and they had grown close, first friends, then lovers. Yet Katherine came from nothing, and in turn had nothing. His parents had refused to let him marry her, and they promptly arranged a marriage with Mary Mahoney.  At first George had gone willingly to Mary, yet after their first child had been born she had begun to change. Mary became hysterical and he could not cope. That is when he found Katie again. She took him back, and they started a long lasting affair, an affair that produced a child. Sarah.

“Do you have any idea where she could be?” He asked, as tenderly as he could.

“Somewhere in New England.”  She said softly, and George nodded.

“I will see if Mona knows something.”

Katherine sighed and looked relieved at his words.

“I am not making any promises Katie, but I will try.”

“Thank you George.”

He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips, then rose to go.  As he left he heard muffled sobs echoing through the dark night. 

The Train

The rocky coast slipped away, and soon the train was swaying through the trees.  Sarah clutched the carpet bag to her chest.  She was alone in the compartment, her last companion had departed when the Ticketmaster had walked through the hall booming, "Hartford, Hartford, next stop Hartford!" Her traveling jacket was tight, so tight in fact that she had lost control again.  This time in front of Mona.  Damn it, she couldn't become a fainting filly, not now.  Her whole life she had despised women like that, but now that the time was so ripe she was slipping- and she must not falter.  The lying was getting easier now- especially when it was laced with truth.  It would be hours before Mona read her confession; if she knew her friend she would not be able to bear the thought of her predicament easily and would shy away from anything to do with it.  And what a confession. Closing her eyes, Sarah let herself drift off as the train gently rocked and swayed towards her clandestine destination. 

I am most sorry to lie to you. my dearest of friends.  I know that once you learn the truth-the whole truth- there is no hope for further friendship between us.  I will start then at the beginning...

The rain clings to Sarah's hair as she musters her last reserve of energy to heave her trunk over the threshold of the dormitory.  With a groan, the trunk lid gives way and white underthings spring out to sprawl across the wet tile. 
"Oh damn it all to hell!"  A snort from behind her, a young gentleman with grey eyes and an amused smirk stands up from the rocker he had been lounging in. 

 "Watch yourself, or you'll be out of here before you even begin.  Mrs. Mullen, your dorm mother- well they don't call her the dragon lady for nothing."

"I shall try to remember, thank you sir." Fighting to regain her composure is of no avail as a blush creeps slowly up her neck.  "I am Miss Turner, pleased to make your acquaintance." His eyes are playful as he bends over her hand with mock severity.

"My dear, you can pretend at propriety all you wish, but I know you for what you are-" Hoping her look is properly offended, Sarah hazards a smile.

"And pray tell what is that?"

"Why, you're just like me.  Incidentally, my name is Eric."

When I first met Eric, I was so swept off my guard; Mona he was  perfect.  We sat for hours and talked about nothing and everything-we danced and laughed and he had the world and my heart in his hands.  I suppose, in retrospect, he never lied.  He didn't tell me he loved me, he showed me- though in showing I suppose he lied with something beyond his words.  I am getting ahead of myself though.  That fall was perfect, and I lost track of my life, of my classes, of writing you. 

The hours are slipping away as the sun fades over notes, long forgotten in the crisp afternoon air.  Sarah's hair is down, and her eyes are sparkling. 

"And why shouldn't women have the right to vote?  Why, I recall on our last exam that my marks were a full ten points higher than Grant Beauford's, why should he have the right to decide who represents us all to the world?"  Eric is smiling; taking her chin in his hands he tilts her face up and kisses her freckles. 

"You are so charming when you're in one of your passions."  Sarah tosses her curls, impatiently. 

"You, Sir, are exactly the problem.  I am angry, not charming.  Mr. Magathan- Excuse me, what are you doing?  Stop it!  Kisses are not the answer!  Eric!"  Sarah dissolves into breathless laughter and allows his hands to stray to her lace jacket lapels.  In a moment, Eric pauses and meets her passionate blue eyes. 

"I like kissing you, Sarah."  He is almost shy, and for a second she sees not a confident man of the world but a shy adolescent. 

"I like kissing you too.  I trust you."  He smiles, and takes her in his arms once more.  She lets him more easily this time, allowing another wall to fall silently before his wandering fingers. 

The first time I let him love me was both beautiful and horrible.  After, he didn't kiss me or hold me.  In the dark, I wrapped my arms around myself and let the tears fall.  I think it must have left around one in the morning, he didn't wake.  I slipped back across campus, too overwhelmed to even worry about being caught after curfew.  Safe in my room, I resolved to throw myself into my work.  Three weeks later, I had an excellent class average and morning sickness.

"Sarah.  Sarah...Sarah.  Miss Turner?"  Shapes are moving around Sarah's head; somewhere something is clinking metallically.  "Pulse is steady Doctor, it might simply be a case of the female hysterics."  NO!

 Struggling against what seems like an endless current of nausea and blinding light, Sarah tries to slow her breathing, counting.  One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight...one, two three four...

"Doctor! She's awake!"  Footsteps clacking across tile and a white jacket comes into view. 

"There, there dear.  Now take this, yes there we go.  Gently."  A piece of cold metal in her mouth, and for a moment everything stills.  A hand brushes sweat from her hair and in a moment the metal is gone and someone is tisking.

"Her temperature is good, nurse I'm going to go call her dorm mother.  Sit with her for a while."  His shoes squeak and a door shuts.  The room is materializing now, Sarah can recognize the school's infirmary.  Closing her eyes she tries to remember how she came here.  A fly, a hot classroom.  Was that only this morning? 

"Oh, dear I'm so sorry."  Sarah tries to focus, the nurse has a kindly round face, and it's filled with concern. 

"What?  What's wrong with me?  Am I dying?  Where did he go...what is he going to do to me?" Her look is full of pity.

"The doctor doesn't know, but I recognize your condition.  You're pregnant, darling." 

The world is spinning again, but this time Sarah won't let it close in.  Fighting, she counts again.  One, two, fifty- she reaches a hundred before she feels safe opening her eyes.

"What do I do?  I was supposed to be a journalist, supposed to be serious- I never wanted to get married this young!"

"Oh, lovely!  He's proposed then?"

"Well no, but now he must, mustn't he?  With a sigh, the nurse turns down the covers and turns towards the door.

"I'll write down the name of a good doctor.  He's gentle, and he doesn't barely leave a scar."

I'm not proud of what comes next.  That doctor, I suppose he was gentler than most, and yet I have never felt more violated.  With any luck, he says, I'll still be able to bear children.  More children.  And now I have a scar on my belly and on my heart as well.  I made the mistake of telling Eric.  He hasn't spoken to me, except for one utterly unforgettable occurrence that still pains me to think of.  And now, my darling Mona, I shall not tell you where I am going, except that it is not to Maine.  I may once have been pregnant, but now I am utterly without child again.  Where I go, I shall no longer be Sarah Turner.  I will miss you, my oldest of friends.  I know Stephen will take the best care of you- else I would never leave.  Give my saddest regards to Timothy, tell him what you must to ensure he does not try to follow.  I have kept his ring as a keepsake of brighter times. Ever yours, Sarah.

The sky had long ago turned to velvety black, and Sarah slipped into the water car that adjoined her traveling car.  There was a small mirror, not much, but enough to wield a knife-her weapon of choice. 

Five minutes later, a young man knocked discreetly on Sarah's car and entered.  A trunk of women's clothing was overturned on the seat, deftly he went to it and fingers through the bustles and corsets, searching.  Plucking out her purse, he stashes it away in his breast pocket, safe.  Pulling out a letter and opening it, he reads, satisfied. 

"Mr Mullen, we are please to accept you as a junior editor at our paper.  Please use this letter as your form of reference and present yourself to One Times Square, 1475 Broadway at your earliest convenience."

Mr. Mullen's blue eyes spark, as he runs through his hand through his newly trimmed hair. 

"Grand Central Station, Grand Central Station, next stop Grand Central Station!"

The Prayer

Stephen sat in his office, surrounded by piles and piles of papers.  Legal documents were scattered to and fro and he was doing his hardest to concentrate on his work. He was supposed to be reading a lengthy contact reguarding Ramsey Bank, but every time his eyes found that name his mind would jump back to a red haired woman with hazel eyes.

It had been an absolute joy to see her enjoy the baseball game. Watching her take it all in was almost like watching a child.  Ramona had not had much of a childhood seeing that it had been lost in the shadows of her brother’s death and her mother’s insanity. He had wanted to give her a fun experience so she could forget about all her troubles for a day. He could tell that Ramona was haunted constantly by the ghosts of her past, and at times dark shadows would cross her bright eyes. He guessed that at those moments she was thinking about her mother. It made his heart ach when he saw how sad she would get.At times he had to stop himself from reaching out and holding her tight. He knew that the rules of society stated that the most he could do was hold her hand and steal a few kisses here and there, yet he wanted more than that. He wanted to hold her so that some of her worry would be given to him.  

He had never cared so much about another person in the world. As a young man, he had buried his head into books, working hard to get where he was, not caring about what happened on the way to success. Even his former fiancé, Caroline, had been a tool to get farther in life. When she had left him, his eyes had been opened to just how selfish he had been. Stephen had almost turned to drinking when a friend of his brought him to the church he attended. Stephen had not really wanted to attend a protestant church service, seeing as his family was Catholic, but it was there that he found what he had been looking for his whole life. 
 He found faith.
 And it was that faith in Christ that had softened his heart and opened his eyes. That had been a year and a half ago, and now he could not imagine his life without his faith.  Every Sunday Stephen would walk down the street to the tall steapled building, with fine stained glass, and friendly people. He had sat in that church hours, even at night when people had left and the streets of Boston were quiet, praying for his family and studying his Bible.

Stephen reached down into a drawer of his desk, and found the now worn leather book. His Bible had been given to him by members of the church and was beginning to fray a little. He carried that book with him almost everywhere, and when he had a spare moment he would take it out and read it.  In those pages he had discovered truth, and most importantly he had discovered love. When he had been courting Caroline he thought he had been in love with her, now he realized he had only lusted after her, not that he had ever acted on it.  She had never cared deeply for him either,  as their marriage had all but been arranged. 

He opened his Bible to 1 Corinthians 13, the chapter dedicated to love.  The chapter described the characteristics of love and what it means. It was one of his favorite passages, espicailly the last verse which read:

“And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.”  He sat there for sometime, the contract now forgotten, reading the chapter and taking in every word. It was as if the words on the page were breathing new life into his very lungs, into his soul.  He bowed his head in prayer.

Father, you have given me so much in this world, so much that I have taken it for granted. You say in your word that love is the greatest of all things, and you demonstrated that for us when you sent your son to die on the cross. I know I have taken not only your love but the love of my family for granted, and I am asking you now Father, to please let me not make that same mistake again. Lord, you said in your word that it is not good for man to be alone, that we need someone to walk the road with us. Is Ramona the one I am meant to be with Lord? You know my heart, and so you know me, and you must know that I am falling in love with her. Is she the one?

He sat there in the silence of his office, waiting for a reply. He knew God did not always answer right away, but he would listen for the still small voice when it came. Not everyone heard the voice of the Lord, because people forgot to listen for it. But ever since he had been saved Stephen had listend and heard. Now he waited in the quiet of the room, waited till an answer finally came.

Yes.  

Chills shot threw his spine and a rush of absolute joy swam threw his veins. The Lord had given him an answer and he felt it in the depth of his soul. She was the one, the one who he would make a life with, the one he had been praying for.  

Truth

“Sarah!” Ramona screamed, as her friend fell to the floor.  She jumped from her seat and rushed to Sarah’s side. Ramona shook her, but Sarah would not wake. 

“Mrs. Wheeling!” Ramona shouted, and the stout housekeeper rushed into the room.

“Oh dear! What happened? “

“She fainted! Mrs. Wheeling do you have any smelling salts?”

“Yes, I will be back soon.” And she waddled, quickly from the room.  Despite the housekeeper’s old age, she returned to the parlor in record time. Ramona raised Sarah’s head and Mrs. Wheeling held the bottle of smelling salts under Sarah’s nose.

Gasping, Sarah awoke.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice faint.

“You fainted dear” Mrs. Wheeling replied. Sarah’s blue eyes blinked quickly, as if she were trying to process it all.

Slowly they helped her sit up. Sarah’s brown hair was beginning to tumble down her back, giving her a wild look.

“Is there anything we can get you?” Ramona asked.

“Some wine would be nice”

Mrs. Wheeling nodded and looked at Ramona.

 “I’ll stay with her, you go on.”  And the housekeeper left the room. 

Ramona looked at Sarah. Never in her life had she seen her friend so pale.

“Sarah what happened? We were talking and all of the sudden you hit the floor!”

Sarah was staring ahead, not even blinking.

“I have to go.” She said finally.

“Go, go where?”

Ramona heard indistinct mumbles picking out the words “my train” and “can’t stay.”

“Well you can stay, and you will stay! You just fainted and are in no state to travel.”

Sarah looked back at Ramon, a little color rising to her cheeks.

“You cannot tell me what to do in my own house!” Sarah stated, almost shrilly.

Ramona’s eyebrows flew to her hairline. “Oh, and when have you ever cared about the rules of society?”

Sarah’s brow wrinkled at this retort. Ramona knew that her friend was not used to taking orders from anyone.

“I have to go” Sarah now said, as firmly as she could.

Finally it dawned on Ramona what was going on “Sarah, what are you running from?”

Sarah looked at her, really looked at her, as if she were seeing Ramona for the first time.

“I don’t know what you are talking about”

“Oh don’t play coy with me Miss Turner. You run. It is what you do.” Ramona was astounded that it had never occurred to her before now, and she could feel the acid in her tone.

Sarah was now getting to her feet shakily; Ramona could tell she was angry.

“What are you running from?” Ramona was pleading now.

“Nothing of your concern.” Sarah replied sharply.

“Nothing of my concern? I am your friend! Of course it is my concern! Tell me what is wrong.”

Sarah was swaying a little, and Ramona caught her before she fell again. Holding tight to her friend, Ramona lead Sarah to one of the plump green chairs.  Sarah sat down slowly, holding her head. If Ramona had not seen Sarah’s lips moving, she would never have guessed that she spoke the words that escaped her lips.

“Timothy proposed.”

Ramona looked down at Sarah, her eyes wide.

“What?” she whispered.

“He proposed to me.”

Ramona crouched down next to the chair that her friend occupied. In truth she had been expecting this for some time now. Anyone who had seen Timmy with Sarah could tell that he was madly in love with her. It was only Sarah who pretended not to see. 

“So…” Ramona said, not sure what to say next. She did not think an “I told you so” would be proper.

“So I cannot marry him” Sarah said, and Ramona heard her voice quiver for a moment. It was odd to hear emotion like that in Sarah’s voice. Usually it was Ramona who got emotional.

“Why not?” she asked, guessing what the reply would be.

“Because I do not deserve him. He deserves someone better…”

“Oh Sarah…” Ramona sighed. For how anti-society Sarah was, she could keep secrets as well as any wealthy woman in Boston. Sarah may not have taken to curtsies or dancing at cotillion, but she had mastered the art of secrecy.

Ramona looked up at her friend, and searched her blue eyes for some form of the truth. But the blue eyes were blank and guarded.

“Sarah, you can tell me anything. You know that… don’t you?”

Sarah nodded in reply, but looked away.  Ramona was becoming furious. She hated when Sarah did this! All the secrets, it had to stop.

“Damn it Sarah, Tell me! What are you trying so hard to hide? What!?”

Sarah’s eyes widened again, her mouth hanging open a little. Ramona knew she was stunned that Ramona had cursed and yelled at her. Rarely did she ever loose her temper, but she had to do something to get Sarah’s attention, and it had worked.

 A moment passed before Sarah finally spoke.

“I have been with a man, Mona.”

Ramona closed her eyes, and she felt as if a knife had been stabbed into her belly.

“Meaning?”

Sarah looked at her with a look that said “Do I have to spell it out to you?”  And Ramona blushed.

“Oh…” she said in a small voice. She had not been expecting that, but Ramona had a dark feeling that it was about to get worse. This was just the tip of the ice burg.

“It was a man at school…  A man, whom you now have a connection with.” Ramona inhaled swiftly. They were getting to it now, the deep dark secret Sarah had been hiding.

“Would that man happen to be named Eric?” She asked, even though she knew the answer already. Sarah swallowed hard then she nodded.

Ramona could barley think. How could this have happened? How in the world could this have happened? How could Ramona be falling in love with Stephen, and Sarah and Eric? But she shook the thought from her head. Her mind was too pure to think those kinds of things. She could not even wrap her mind around the very thought of it.  She had to speak before her thoughts tumbled out of control.

“So you are leaving because of all of this?”

Sarah nodded again “What choice do I have?”

“What do you mean what choice do you have? You can stay here! No one need know about any of this.”

Sarah’s blue eyes met Ramona’s, they had a pitying look in them.

“Oh Mona. I wish I could have you innocence, but soon everyone will know my secret and I cannot stay and subject my parents to my shame.”

“But how will anyone know your secret? I mean who has cause to tell?”

Sarah was biting her lip, and Ramona could tell she was contemplating what to tell her next.

“You see Mona, it wont be easy for me to keep this kind of secret… You see it is one that will begin to show.”

The knife was stabbing Ramona in the stomach again. She had not heard right. No it could not be. Not that! Sarah stood up again, while Ramona was still sitting next to the green chair, to stunned to move.

“I have to go…”

Ramona looked up at her friend, and noticed that there were tears in the blue eyes.  Ramona got to her feet too.

“Where will you go?”

Sarah looked away.

“Please tell me! I swear I will not tell a living soul!”

“Maine.” And Sarah rummaged in her bag, pulling out a piece of paper with scribbles on it.

“This is the address. Mona, swear you will not tell anyone, especially Stephen. This is for your eyes only.”

Ramona took the paper and stuffed it in her pocket. Tears were now leaking down her face. She had lost her mother, her fiancé, and now her dearest friend just months apart. She could not bear it if Sarah left, but she knew there was no stopping her.

“Sarah, please be safe.”  And with those words Sarah walked over to Ramona and hugged her tight. 

“Goodbye, Mona” She said. And with that Sarah gathered her bag, and left the room before Ramona could finish blinking.

The Game

Huntington Ave Ball Park ca 1903

Ramona sat in Stephen’s automobile trying her hardest not to be sick on the smooth leather seat. Stephen was a good driver, but she still felt sick every time she was in an automobile.

“Are you feeling alright?” she heard Stephen ask. She gulped hard before she made a reply.

“I feel a little ill, but not to bad. Where are we going?” She wanted to ask questions to keep her mind off the car turning and speeding along. She could see a smile creeping onto Stephen’s face.

“I am not telling you, we only have a block left.”

Ramona scrunched up her face. She had no idea where they were. She had not been to this part of Boston much, so she could not recognize landmarks. Stephen had told her to put on a simple dress, and a straw hat because they would be outside. That is all she knew, that they would be outside. Yet this part of Boston did not have any parks or pretty little wildernesses to get lost in for an afternoon. The car turned and Ramona saw large crowds of people walking towards the Huntington Ave Ball Park.

“Oh Stephen!” She exclaimed with delight “Is that where we are going? A baseball game?”

Stephen chuckled “It is.” Ramona no longer noticed the motion of the car, nor her queasiness, she was far too excited. She had never been to a Baseball game in her life! The game was quite popular, but her mother had not wanted her outside for that long. How she had begged to go to the games with Jeremy and Papa, but had never been allowed.

Stephen parked the car and got out to open Ramona’s door. She leaped out in excitement, feeling like a little girl. She could not believe Stephen had remembered that she had always wanted to go to a Baseball game. She looked into his green eyes, that were shining with laughter as a broad smile played across her own face. Stephen took her hand and led her to the entrance.  There were so many people, bustling around, getting ready for the game. There were children, clinging to their father’s hands, groups of chattering women, and clusters of men making bets on who would win. There was so much to take in.  Stephen handed a man their tickets and he pointed them towards a section of seats. Stephen led Ramona down the stairs. Soon they found their seats and sat down.

“Oh Stephen this is wonderful!”

He laughed, “I remembered that you had never been to a game. I asked your father at work yesterday if I could take you to one.”

“You will have to tell me the rules so I don’t make a fool of my self”

“You could never make a fool of you self” He said quietly, “But I will explain the rules if you like. What do you know about the game?”

Ramona bit her lip, trying to remember everything her brother and father had said about Baseball. She rattled off how she knew about outs and innings, bases and pitches. Stephen pointed out players like Bunny Madden, Ray Collins, Harry Hooper, and Duffy Lewis, and told her about a few rules she had left out.  Today the Red Sox were playing the Philadelphia Athletics. Both teams were wearing white uniforms, and the only way to distinguish between the two was the bright red stockings the home team wore.  Ramona felt gittery. The energy from the stands was electrifying! There were venders running up and down the aisles carrying boxes filled to the brim with peanuts, popcorn, crackerjacks, and ice cold lemon aids. Stephen ordered two of the lemon-aids and two bags of popcorn and they ate as they watched the game. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Stephen whispered in her ear. Ramona turned to him.

“Oh yes! It is so…” She could not find the right word to describe what this was like. Then she found one, “magical.”

Stephen laughed, “It is indeed!”

“Did you come to the games as a boy?”

He nodded “Yes, with my father and brother.”

“Eric, right?”

“Yes, Eric.”

“You said your brother is going to be in town in a week, yes?”

Stephen raised his brow, “Why do you ask?”

Ramona blushed and turned away, pretending to refocus on the game “No reason.”

She could sense Stephen’s gaze on her.

“I want you to meet him,” he said.

Ramona looked back at him, her eyes wide. “You want me to meet your brother?”

“Yes.”

She was stunned. She had not even met William’s sister until they were engaged, what did this mean? She decided not to over think it.

“Does your brother have a girl?” She asked, getting to the reason she had asked about Eric in the first place.

“Well… He told me that he had courted a girl at college, but it had not worked out. Why?” 

“Well, do you think he would like to meet Sarah?”

She saw Stephen pounder this for a moment. “I don’t know Mona... Are you sure Sarah wants to be set up? From what I gather she is pretty independent.”

“You said you liked Sarah!”

“I do! I do! I am just trying to imagine her and my brother together.”  

“What is the harm in trying? Sarah would meet him if I asked her.”  She looked at him, pouting a little.

“Alright, I see no harm in it.”

“What is your brother like? In case Sarah asks.”

Stephen chuckled again, “We are different, as different as two brothers could be.”

“How so?”

Stephen looked towards the game “Well… you see we had a disagreement after my father died. Father had wanted Eric to study law and attend Harvard like myself, but Eric would not have it. He took all his inheritance money and went to a school in Pennsylvania to study English.  I was furious at him from not being wise with his money. He gambled it and barley had enough to pay his tuition. I am still a little angry with him, but he is my brother regardless.”

Ramona nodded. She could understand that.

“What school does he go to?” 

But the cheers that erupted from the stands drowned her question out. Neither of them had been watching the game so they nearly missed Ray Collins hit the ball out of the park. Ramona jumped to her feet, showering Stephen with popcorn. He was on his feet too, but he was looking at her, and not Collins rounding third base.  Ramona looked at him as more cheers erupted from the stands.  All around them people were shouting and hollering, but for Ramona, all she could see was Stephen. He was smiling wide, popcorn was sticking here and there in his dark curls, and his laugh echoed in her ears.  She wanted to kiss him again, but knew it would be improper to do it here in front of all these people. Instead she reached up and plucked the popcorn out of Stephen’s dark curls. He smiled at her, even broader, as they turned again to cheer on their team.

At the end of the game, Stephen drove Ramona home. She was still giddy with excitement. The Red Sox had won 6 to 4. It had been one of the most amazing days of her life. Stephen pulled the car in fort of he brown stone home, and took her hand to help her out of the car.

“I had such a wonderful time Stephen. Thank you so very much.”

He smiled at her, his green eyes piercing her to her core. “I am glad you enjoyed it. I fear I may have created a fan out of you.”

“Oh yes!”

“Maybe soon we can go to another game.” He said, and Ramona noticed him blush a little.

“I would like that” She said, as he led her to her front door.

“Would you like to come in? I am sure father would like to see you.”

“No,” he said “I had better get home, I don’t want to leave mother alone.”

Ramona nodded “Well thank you again for a wonderful day.” She said, feeling herself beginning to blush. Stephen was biting his lip and he looked at her.

“Mona,” he said softly “Would you mind if I gave you a kiss?” His ears turned a vibrant shad of red as he said this. Ramona smiled.

“You don’t have to ask,” she said, rather boldly, taking herself by surprise.

He laughed and moved close to her again.

“I know, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Why would I be?” Goodness her boldness was so odd.

“Because I have not asked you to be my girl…” His ears were growing redder as he spoke.

“Well, Why don’t you?” Lord! Sarah was rubbing off on her.

He laughed again. She loved how full of laughter he was. “Alright Miss Ramsey, will you be my girl?”

She beamed up at him, “Yes Mr. Magathan, only if you will be my boy.”

Stephen laughed again “Of course I will be your boy.” He said, laughing a little.

“So…” he said.

“So you can kiss me Mr. Magathan.”

Laughing he did, right there on her front porch. That kiss was just as thrilling as cheering at a baseball game, and when Stephen said good bye Ramona’s head was spinning.

As she closed the front door, Ramona knew she would have so much to tell Sarah tomorrow. 

Him

Mary Ramsey lay in her bed, listening to the thump, thump, thump, of the falling rain. All she wanted was to sleep, but the rain would not allow her to drift into a pleasant slumber. It was in her dreams that she found solitude, and redemption, things she could never achieve in reality. Yet constantly sleep evaded her. It would drift away like the last note of a song, far out of her grasp. She closed her blue eyes, and tried to drift away, but a knock came on the door and her eyes flew open.

“Mama?” the sweet voice made her head turn towards the door. There her daughter stood, her red hair pilled on top of her head.

“Mama, I am going out for a while. I have to go call on Sarah Turner; she leaves for college soon you see. I won’t be gone long.”

Sarah Turner. The name seemed familiar, but very distant.  Mary looked up at her daughter; she did not want her to leave. She was her sole comfort these days, her and her music.

“William will be by shortly for your examination, so you will not be alone long, and Gerald is downstairs if you need anything.”

Mary squeezed her eyes shut. HE was coming, oh no. How could she tell her daughter how much pain the man put her through? Mary refused to call him by his name, in person or in her mind. There he was called “Him.” A raspy breath escaped her lips. She was terrified of Him. She did not like what He did to her, but no one knew. Not even her beautiful daughter. She opened her eyes and looked up to see Ramona still standing there. Ramona bent down and kissed her on the head.

“I love you Mama, I will be back soon.” And at that, Mary was left alone.

The rain had started to fall harder when the doorbell rang. Mary could hear the distant voices below, and hoped they would stay there, but they didn’t. Ramona had said He would come, and so he did. The knock on the door came, and He entered. He was tall, and dark, with eyes to match. How she hated those eyes. They had no warmth and were dark pools of contempt.  He smiled at her.

What an evil look.

Chills of loathing and deep fear rushed over her skin.

“Hello Mrs. Ramsey” He said in spiteful tone. Oh how could Ramona be engaged to him?  “How are you feeling today?”

She looked away; she did not want to see his face. Oh how she longed for George to take her away from Him. He was not digging in his black bag, and Mary dug her fingers into her bedding. She hated Him! Oh how she hated Him! And no one knew, no one could save her from this man. Just like she could not save Jeremy. Oh dear, sweet little boy. He would have been a good man. She had failed him as a mother. Failed to keep him alive and safe. The guilt of his death had over taken her, consumed her, till there was nothing left but darkness. She had felt the loss of her child deep in her very womb and that is why she had to endure these examinations in private. That is why this man touched her and hurt her. Her depression had overtaken her senses of reality and truth, and she let herself fail not only one child but also the one that was left alive, Ramona.  Oh her dear Mony. The one who helped her, and kept her safe. She was far away now, and there was only Him.

He had pulled out his long, silver instrument. It made odd sounds when he turned it on, and she did not like what it made her feel. He laughed at her when she cringed away from his touch. The instrument was moving and hurting her she wanted to cry, and rip her hair out. She wanted to rip His hair out. Mary reached up and grabbed fists full of his dark hair, yanking it out by the root. He screamed in pain and backed away. The instrument was no longer there.

“So you want to fight do you?”

Oh no, she had made him angry, now he was going to hurt her. She jumped off the bed, trying to get to the door, but He blocked it. He placed his big hand over her mouth, pushing her screams back inside. He forced her to the bed, as she grabbed at his hair again. She could hear the rain falling faster on the roof, as a strike of lightning illuminated the room. 

He was forcing himself on her, and she could not stand it one more moment. She heard the front door close and light footsteps were coming up the stairs to rescue her. This was her chance, to show whomever it was, what a snake He was. Mary bit down on his hand, and his rage grew. Soon colors and shapes were blending into one, he was groping for the silver instrument, and then there was nothing but red. A scream had escaped pass her lips and the door flew open. There her hero stood, her daughter, her friend. She had to save Mony from this man, and she had done it. Her last motherly act was to show her daughter what He really looked like. Mary looked into the hazel eyes that she so loved and they blended with the red that was now so bright. Hazel, brown, red, and green swirling together and then everything was dark

The letter and the song

  

Dear Ms Ramsey, 
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Arter College. Your outstanding academic performance has resulted in the award of the Bentley Scholarship. This scholarship will enable you, as a coed, to attend classes at our prestigious school...

Ramona's eyes scanned the paper again and again. She could not believe it! She had been accepted to a coed college. Not only had she been accepted, but she had received a scholarship from the school. All this was far more than she had ever hope for when she applied. In truth she had not even thought she would get in. A smile was beginning to form across her face, but it would not last long.

"Mony" a shrill voice yanked Ramona out of her triumph and brought her straight back to reality.
"Coming mother!"
She folded up the letter and placed it in her pocket so she could look at it again later. Ramona climbed the oak stairs that lead to the second level of her home. The second floor was for the family, guests rarely ascended the stairs. Only family and William were allowed up here. This floor was not as decorative as the first. There was a long carpet that ran the length of the hall to each room. She made her way passed her own chamber, and the deserted one of her brother's towards her mother's door. She knocked and opened the door, not waiting for a response.

"You called for me Mama?" she asked looking around the room. As long as she could remember her mother's chamber had been covered in bright green fabric, her mother's favorite color. The carpet was an even darker green with a cream flower design spinning around it. The room was bright, with the back windows drawing in the light from outside. Ramona looked at the bed first, which was near the door, to the rear right corner in the room, and it was there she  found the rooms occupant. Her mother was laying on her chaise lounge, in nothing but her undergarments and a bright yellow dressing gown. Her red hair  tumbled passed her shoulders in unbecoming knots, making an interesting contrast to the yellow of her gown. She was holding a brush in her hand, and looked with childish confusion up at her daughter.
"Mony my hair..."
"You need some help Mama?"
Her mother nodded, and looked down at her lap. Ramona noticed that clumps of her mothers hair were now stuck in the brush. She had to force down the hot, salty tears that had risen at the sight of this.
"Here, let me" She said in the kindest voice she could muster. Ramona sat behind her mother and began gently combing her hair. It was as if their roles had been reversed. Not to long ago, her mother had brushed knots from Ramona's hair. She could remember her mother's soft hands smoothing out her messy mop. Now Ramona was playing parent to her mother. How things had changed. All she hoped was that William could find a way to cure mama soon.

After a while, her mother's hair was smooth enough for Ramon to braid it. When she had finished Ramona moved to get up, but her mother took her hand and looked up at her daughter. There was not much difference in their appearances. Ramona had her mother's dark red hair, so dark it was almost brown. Both their complexions were pale, like peaches and creme. Everything about their faces was identical, except for the eyes, Ramona had her father's hazel eyes, where her mother had dark blue. Mrs. Ramsey had been a great beauty, but now her red hair was streaked with grey, and her once bright eyes look dull. Age was making it's way, prematurely, across her face and Ramona's heart ached at the sight of it.
"Mony"
"Yes mama?" Ramona said, staring deep into her mother's face.
"You have grown up so much, I don't know when you left childhood and became a woman."
Ramona smiled weakly, trying to choke back rising tears. Rarely did her mother have good days like this.
"Mama," she said "would you like for me to play my violin for you?"
Her mother's eyes sparkled with delight as she said this "oh yes dear, please"
"I will be right back." Ramona said, squeezing her mother's hand as she left the room.
She ran down the stairs to the parlor, where her violin was kept. She found the dark black case and unlatched it. There it sat in dark red velvet. The spruce and maple wood blended together to make a beautiful glow of colors. Ramona picked it up and began to tune it. She had not played in ages because William had told her it would be bad for her mother's health, but right now she knew that this was what her mother needed. She raced upstairs to her mother;s room and found her still sitting in the same place as before, now smiling.
"What would you like me to play for you Mama?"
Her mother thought a moment, then smiling, she said "The autumn waltz."
Ramona could not help smiling back. She lifted the violin under her chin, touched the bow to the strings, and began to play.  The vibrations from her instrument filled the air with beautiful sound, sending chills down her body. Her fingers moved, well practiced, as if she had never stopped playing. Tears of joy, and sorrow were falling down her face, but she did not care. All she could see was her mother, sitting before her. Nothing in the world mattered. Not William's orders, Jeremy's death, nor the letter that was folded in her pocket. All that mattered was that she had her mother back, and she was going to hold on to this moment until it flew away like smoke in the wind.

Baubles and lies

"Though this may be the age of men, it is the dawn of women.  I call upon every wife, mother, and daughter to put down her embroidery hoop and pick up her picket sign.  Rally, hear the call, and let the leaders of the land know that you will be heard, you MUST be heard!" 

As Sarah scrawled "James Mullen" across the bottom of the page and sighed.  Much as she would like to send this to the editor of the small independent paper that she submitted to, even she knew it was too inflammatory.  "You go too far Turner" she could hear the editor say.  "We must lead the horses to the water, not drown them in it."  She opened her desk drawer to stow her pen and her fingers brushed the blue velvet of the box she had been doing her best to ignore.  Flipping it open, she was momentarily dazzled.  The ring was beautiful, circle cut with scroll-work all along the band.  He knew her well, the design was inlaid lilies.
 
She should have known as soon as he lead her to the house, should have known when she saw the design of the sitting room and the open air balcony.  Hadn't she described just that house to him a hundred times growing up, hadn't she once dreamed of setting up a happy home just like that one.  Once.  Now everything was changed, and she was too much of a coward to tell him.

He hadn't accepted her refusal.  He had looked into her blue eyes and seen her pain and had taken it for regret, and he had pressed the box into her hands and begged her to give his proposal due consideration.  She had acquiesced, if only to spare him for the moment.  And now, now she didn't know what to do.  As always, when she was at a loss she turned to action.  She was almost done packing when she heard the bell ring downstairs.
"Bollocks" she grumbled, her favorite curse word not doing her resentment at the inopportune caller justice.
She flung her traveling hat on the bed as she heard  Mrs. Wheeling's labored tread on the stair.
"Miss Ramona is here to see you."
"Thank you" Sarah snapped, ignoring the curious look on the woman's face as she took in her traveling attire.

Five minutes later she shoved the full suitcase under her bed and clumped downstairs.  Mona was waiting for her in the sitting room- polite to the end she refused to go to the kitchen even for Mrs. Wheelings fresh baked biscuits that were perfuming the air.
"Sarah!" Mona rose on seeing her, and rushed to embrace her a flush spreading across her already too pink cheeks.  She looked well, even though she was preoccupied Sarah could see that. 
"Oh Sarah, I have so much to tell you!  She sank down into one of the dark green uncomfortable armchairs, all in a tither.  Sarah would much prefer to be sitting on her bed upstairs as they had when they shared secrets as girls, but her father had taught her that the great happiness's and great tragedies of life should be delivered in the formal sitting room.  Sarah had some of both, but to look at Mona she had seen only good fortunes of late.  Sarah knew that all she had to do was wait, Mona was never much of one for keeping secrets to herself.  They had scarce settled themselves before the words came tumbling out of her friend's mouth.
"Sarah, he took me to Jamaica Pond! And I told him about Mother and he didn't hate me, and Sarah, he knew and he's helping Father with the case and he held me- he kissed me, in the middle of the park!  And I liked it I think, I'm not sure, I've never been kissed before, not even William...but he's not like William at all!  He's wonderful!  Oh Sarah, you were right!   Women and men can't simply be friends!  I think I'm falling in love!"
Despite her troubles, Sarah smiled at her friend.  It was good to see her this happy, she had seldom enough had a smile on her face since her mother and William...
"Breath, Mona dear.  Men will keep.  He kissed you?  In the middle of the park with all those people?  Have a thought for your reputation!" She softened as Mona squirmed with discomfort.
"I'm only teasing, I'm sure he cares for you too.  He seemed a fine smart man."
"He liked you."  Mona had a sly look on her face, one that Sarah had learned to distrust years before.
"And I liked him too...what's your point?"
"Well, his brother coming to town next week...a dashing smart fellow..."
"Ohhhhh no you don't.  I love you like a sister but I'm not ready to be tied down yet, not even by dashing Stephan's charming brother I'm sure."  Mona pouted prettily, a trick they had learned in finishing school but Sarah had never had the patience to master.   Looking up at her friend, Mona finally seemed to take in her friend's attire.
"Were you going somewhere?"  Sarah sighed, contemplating which lie to tell.
"Just out of town for a couple of days, visiting school friends."  It was the cruelest one, but also the one that was likely to prompt the least amount of questions from Mona.  She had calculated well, Mona's face fell for a moment but she collected herself in record time.  She would be a good society wife, Sarah decided.  That was the irony of their friendship.
"Well, I'm sure that your company is much missed by them.  Any girl is lucky to call you her friend, Sarah."  The comment hung in the air, twisting in Sarah's heart.   If only she could tell her the truth, the whole truth...but it wasn't worth worth risking their whole friendship just to lighten her heart.  For a moment she contemplated telling her about the ring upstairs in it's blue velvet box, if only to lighten the mood; But Mona would not rest until that subject saw it's conclusion.  Sighing, she realized there was just one thing to do.
"I'll be out of town until Monday, but I suppose I could you to lunch with you and your male companion's brother next week.  Name the place, and the time."  Mona's spirits were lifted visibly.
"Oh my dearest friend, I can't wait!  Wednesday, noon for tea?  Oh, I know Eric can't wait to meet you!"
Sarah stood up, with startling speed- sudden fear coursing through her veins.
"Eric Magathan?"  And then she did a most un-Sarah like thing.
She fainted.

Childhood friends

Sarah's hair never curled exactly the way she wanted it.  Lucky Ramona with her becoming red hair that swept just so up from her brow; every time Sarah tried the latest styles they fell out until her brown curls tumbled down her back once more.  Privately, she liked her wild hair-it seemed like her inner daemons having the last say in her outward appearance.  Today however, she wanted to look sophisticated and polished- the epitome of a young lady who had spent a year of her life learning all about the ways of the world as a cooed.
The bell downstairs sounded, and Sarah could hear her elderly housekeeper answering.  Unlike Ramona, the Turners had never had much in the way of household help other than Mrs. Wheeling.  She could hear her skirts rustling all the way up the stairs to her room at the top of the hall, and then the swift knock.
"Miss Sarah, Mr. Timothy Alden is here for you.  In an automobile."  Sarah could hear the housekeeper's disapproval, which only made her smile more.  Of COURSE Timothy would be the first one on the block with anything new and exciting.  He must have been sold every gimmick this side of the Mississippi.
"Thank you, I'll be right with him."
"I'll tell him, oh, and Miss Sarah?  Take a wrap.  Surely it's too chilly outside, even on a summer day, for so much decolletage."
Sarah rolled her eyes, but took the lace wrap from the back of her chair.  It matched her outfit just so, she probably would have picked it out even without the housekeepers hints.

Twenty minutes later, Sarah was curled onto the wide black leather seat, bumbling along towards an unknown destination.  She had to admit, the purring motor had a nice dependable nature to it.
"Where in the world are you taking me, Timmy?"  His blue eyes sparkled back at her.
"For the seventh time, I'm not telling you.  Patience is a virtue, my dear."
"Not one that I ever intended to posses."  Sarah pretended to pout, but his endearing term had warmed her.  Timmy was one of her oldest friends, and he had the good fortune to have grown into his boyish good looks.  He was also as much of a shameless flirt as she, and she always enjoyed sharpening her wits with him.  They were the best of friends, in a way that made this sort of flirtation harmless.
The car bumped around a turn and Sarah peered out the window, trying to discern where they were going.   They had set out in the late afternoon, and now the evening light was playing across the buildings and storefronts.  With a start she realized that she had no idea where they were going.  Turning to Timmy, she raised an eyebrow.  His only response was a half smile.

When they finally rolled to a stop they were well outside the city limits.  The dusk had long ago set in, and Sarah peered forward, trying to get her bearings.  The sea could not be far off, she could smell the salt in the air, and before her was a sweeping field with a gravel road. 
"What is it?  Has you finally pushed this car past it's poor mechanical limits?"  Timmy smiled cheekily as he held his hand out for hers. 
"I thought we could walk the last bit, I remember how well you enjoy a stroll."  Dubiously she took his hand and rolled her eyes. 
"Ever the gentleman, I'm sure."  As they walked, a distant chorus of peepers called through the trees.  It was comforting, and reminded Sarah of those long solitary walks she had taken at school.  That was another world miles away from this one, but somehow the bitter regrets from the past year chased her even here.  As they rounded a bend in the road a house rose above them.  It was tall and had high gables and a porch that wrapped all the way around.  She had been right about the sea, th"e field the house sat on ended abruptly in a cliff and the pounding of waves echoed through the night.
There were lights on but no noises, and they seemed to be the only ones witness to the night.
"Come."  Timothy walked up the drive to the house, Sarah following in step behind him.
"Aren't the owners home?"  He turned with a queer smile on his face.
"Let's just say I have their permission."

Following him she mounted the steps to the porch, and then through the big door into the entrance hall.  It was both grand and simple, and the house must be new.  It still smelled of fresh cut wood and paint.  Timothy seemed to know where he was going; he led her from the kitchen with it's huge fireplace that had not yet seen a spark to the formal sitting room which had wall paper of tiny lilies.  Pausing, she brushed her fingers along the walls.  Lily was her birth flower, and by that right it was her favorite.  It grew in swamps and ladies gardens, ever versatile and adaptable.  Timmy appeared, hand on her shoulder. Wordlessly, he led her up the stairs. 
The second floor had three doors that lead away from the stairs, but ignoring those he lead her to the room directly across from the landing.  It was the master bedroom, she could tell even though it was bare of furniture.  She followed her childhood friend across the room and through a set of double glass doors and onto a balcony.  It overlooked the drive and she could tell that in daylight the view of the ocean would be breathtaking.  She stood there, not knowing or caring how many minutes ticked by-simply enjoying the warm air and sweet smells of night in the country. 
"What is this place?"  She finally breathed. 
"Breakrock Farm."  He was standing close behind her, she hadn't realized.
"Who owns it?"
"Me."  His voice sounded queer and she turned-
Her heart jumped into her throat.
Timmy was kneeling before her, reaching up to clasp her hand.
"No-" the word caught in her throat.

Confessions and Promises

Ramona took her shoes off and put her feet into the cool, refreshing water. Oh how she wished she could submerge her whole body in the cool blue pool, it was too hot to be outside. She felt beads of sweat gathering at her hairline, and quickly wiped them off. She felt sticky with persparation. Her corset was now clinging to her skin in a most uncomfortable way. But she did not want to leave the beauty of Jamaica Park, or the person who now, sat beside her. She had been so caught up in plundging her feet into the tranquil pool she had forgotten her company. Stephen was sitting beside her, removing his socks and shoes. Ramona noticed that he had nice long feet, and could just make out dark hairs on his legs as he rolled his trousers to his ankle. His green eyes met hers and she looked away, red heat making its way across her already pink face.

“ahhh” he sighed. and Ramona heard his feet meeting the water.  She looked back at him, smiling.

“I wish we could go swimming” the words had lepped from her lips before she could think. Swimming with a man! How improper that would be.

“I agree” he said “it is far to hot to be outside. I am sorry I have drug you from the coolness of you home.”

“Oh no! Not at all! I am happy to escape.”

“Escape?” he asked, amused.

“Err… Well what I mean is that taking callers all day can be exhausting.”

“Especially for you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well Mona, you are shy.”

“Yes, I suppose I am. But taking callers has been hard since…”

“Since you mother died?” he finished.

Ramona nodded slightly, and turned her eyes to follow the ducks swimming on the lake. A mother was being followed by a cque of ducklings. A few minutes passed in silence as she watched them gliding across the lake. She could not tell if Stephen was watching her, or the ducks. Maybe he was watching both. All she knew was she was trying her hardest to keep her tears from spilling out of her eyes. He must have seen, or sensed her inner turmoil, because soon she felt his hand on top of her own. He had never held her hand before. All those afternoons alone together, drives to the country, and he had not so much as layed a finger on her.  She looked up at him, and his gaze was steady and fixed on her. He gave her a small smile. There was something in that smile that sent shock waves through Ramona’s body. She had to tell him the truth. Had to tell him everything. He needed to know what he was getting into.  Sarah knew, or course. She knew everything, but she had not been there for the worst of it. Ramona had had no one to confide in while her friend had been at school, and had little time to tell her when she was home, as Sarah was writing and doing Lord knows what else.  But Stephen was here. And she was going to tell him as much as he listen to, before he walked away like William.

“Stephen” She said, in a small voice.

‘umhum”

“I want to tell you about my mother”

“What about her?” He asked, a little confused.

“Everything”

He squared his shoulders towards her, bewilderment etched on his handsome brow.

Ramona felt the beads of sweat dripping down her forehead, and reached up to wipe them away again.

“How about we find some shade first, and get you out of the sun?”

Ramona nodded. They got to their feet, and walking barefooted with their shoes in hand sought solstice under a large oak tree. The grass was dark and cool, tickling Ramona’s feet, the sun barley shown through the cluster of leaves. They sat, and once settled, Stephen spoke.

“Now what is it you want to tell me?”

Ramona cleared her throat. “It is a long, sad story, but you need to hear it.”

She looked at him, and his firm green gaze was fixed on her.

“I suppose the story begins eight years ago, when my brother died.”

“You had a brother?”

“Yes, he was about five years older than I.”

“What was his name?”

“Jeremy”

“How did he die?”

Ramona sighed and looked into the green canopy above them. Stephen always asked so many questions.

“Sorry” he mumbled. “Please continue.”

“He was fifteen years old, when he came down with scarlet fever. It was terrible. I was ten when it happened, and I was sent away from home, so I would not become sick too. But my mother, she stayed by his side every moment of his illness.  She nursed him, and did her best to keep him alive. The doctors told her that there was nothing she could do. But she stayed. She was with him when he died.”

She paused and looked across the lawn to the pond, still visible from their new spot, and saw the ducks waddling about by the water’s edge, still following their mother.

“She was not the same after my brother’s death. She would not eat, and she hardly got out of bed. I tired everything to cheer her up, but nothing worked.  Doctors came and visited almost every day. She underwent mysterious treatments that I, as a child, never full understood. For a while she was better, but around the time I turned fifteen she began having fits. “

“Fits? Like what?”  Ramona could tell that he sounded worried, it would only be a few minutes until he left and she never saw him again, but she continued.

“Of hysteria. She would have fainting spells, fits of giggles, and boughs of melancholy. I went to finishing school not only to become a lady of society, but also so I could take over the duties of the household that my mother could no longer do. That is when I met Sarah. If I had not met her then, I don’t know what I would have done. Since my brother’s death laughter had been almost absent from my home. She taught me to laugh again. She was my closest friend and only confidant I had. Well until I met William.”

She looked into Stephen’s eyes. They were blazing with an anger she had not seen in them before.

“What has my father told you about William?”

“Not much, but enough for me to loath him, but I want to hear what you have to say. Please continue Mona”

“I met William at a ball. It was one of those nights that I selfishly left mother at home and danced the night away with some handsome gentleman. He was kind to me, and we flirted, he made me laugh. We began courting. He had just started practicing medicine in Boston, and his office was close to my father’s bank.  It made it easy to have chaperoned discussions with my father close by. He proposed after we had courted six months, and I accepted. As my fiancé he discovered our family secret of my mother’s hysteria. He, as a doctor offered his services, which my father all to gladly accepted. He prescribed her all sorts of drugs, and potions, and she became sicker. My love for him blinded me to the fact that it was he who was making her worse. Before William had treated her, I had played my violin for her every night. The music seemed to calm her and she would look at me like she used to. William told me that the music only made the beast in her more powerful and that I could not play for her anymore.”

Ramona buried her face in her hands. Hot tears were beginning to leak down her sun red face. She did not know if she could continue telling him the worst of it. He would run away, and she would be alone again. She felt Stephen’s strong arm around her shoulders, and he pulled her closer to him. She had never in her life been this close to a man. Even William, and he had been her fiancé.

“You don’t have to tell me any more today if you don’t want to.” He said in a soft voice.

Ramona took her hands from her face, shaking her head, “No. I have to tell you.” When he didn’t say anything more, she continued. “I do not know how much you know about female hysteria.”

“A little” Stephen replied.

“Well, doctors say it is caused by an imbalance in the woman’s womb.” She felt herself redden again. “I never knew exactly what treatments William was giving my mother, but one afternoon I found out. I had come home from calling on Sarah, when Gerald informed me that William was treating my mother upstairs. I went up to my room to remove my traveling jacket, when a blood-curtailing scream came from my mother’s room. On instinct and reflex, I ran to her chamber and threw the door open. I thought she might be hurting William. She could get rather physical during one of her rages. But when I opened the door I found William pinning my mother down. He had…” Ramona felt herself turning red from fierce anger and vast embarrassment she could not tell Stephen about what William did, she could barley speak the next words. “There was so much blood. I yelled at him, screaming. Gerald came up to see what was happening and he punched William, wrestling him to the floor. William was screaming, “It is for her own good! I am a doctor damn it!” Then the police came, and they took William away, and they sent my mother to the hospital.”  Ramona was sobbing at this point. She could not control it.

“I know the rest.” Stephen said in a soft voice. Ramona looked at him, blinking the tears from her eyes, as he handed her a handkerchief. How could he know the rest?

“Your father came to work one day and asked me if I knew any good prosecuting attorneys.  Seeing that I am involved in corporate law, I could not be of assistance to him. But my cousin is an attorney who practices prosecution. So your father sought his services. He had to tell me bits and pieces of it so I could get my cousin to take the case.  But I did not know the whole of it till now. All I knew is that your ma had been ill, William was your fiancé and a doctor who had tried to treat her, but his treatment resulted in her death. I was there when they announced the verdict…”

“Oh” Ramona replied, “I see.”  She looked out across the pond, the ducks had gone, and the sun had begun to set over the tops of the trees.

“Are you angry at me for not telling you sooner?”

“No” She replied, and she meant it. She knew him well enough to know Stephen had not wanted to bring her mother up until she was ready to talk about it.  His arm was still around her, and now he was rubbing her arm, in attempts to comfort her.  They sat there for a few moments, looking out at the water.

“Can I tell you something?” Stephen asked breaking the silence.

“Or course.”

“Promise you will not get angry.”

“I cannot promise that, now what is it?”

“You remember the night we met? And how you made me promise not to fall in love with you?”

Ramona felt her self redden again but, when she said nothing he continued.

“Well, Mona, I am finding it very difficult to keep that promise. You have been honest with me today, so I feel that I need to be honest with you. You need to know how I feel. But unless I am mistaken, you are finding that promise difficult too.”

Ramona looked at him in astonishment, and jumped to her feet. “How dare you assume… I hardly know you… I…” She could not make the words fluid. Her mind was racing. She could not be in love. She would not allow her self to become that venerable again. Stephen had gotten to his feet too.

“Now, Mona…”

“Don’t you “Now Mona” me!” Stephen chuckled at her. “What? What is so funny?”

“You are only getting this way because it is true.”

“You know nothing of what I know!”

“Mona you arnt exactly hard to read… I know you are afraid, because I am too. Do you think I planned on this?”

He was fallowing her as she walking in circles, trying to think.  His Scottish accent was getting thicker as he talked faster, usually it was very hard to detect. “I had my heart broken, and I was not so willing to give it to someone else.  But then I met you and wanted to be your friend. I thought we could talk about what had happened to us and be able to support each other. The support soon gave me deeper feelings that I know you feel. “

Ramona stopped pacing and looked into his green eyes. He was right, of course. She did care about him. More than she had cared about anyone in a long time. New tears were beginning to form, and they spilled hot and wet down her face. Stephen took her hand and looked deep into her eyes, so deep she wondered if he could see her very soul. His hand reached up, and he brushed her tears away.

“I will make you one promise I will never, ever break Ramona.”

“Oh and what is that?” she asked, so mesmerized by him the words came out full of air.

“I promise that I will never, ever, hurt you.” Ramona stared at him, looking deep into his eyes, trying to read his soul like he could read hers. What she found was honesty, truth.

“I am afraid,” she whispered.

“So am I” He said, his face now so close to hers she could feel the words.  He gently grabbed her waist pulling her even closer to him. Oh goodness she could see every eyelash that adorned his eyes.  His green gaze was almost blending with her hazel one.  He was looking at her lips, biting his own.  Shivers were creeping up her spine, making her feel like her whole body had plunged deep into the cool blue pond that was now sparkling in the setting sunlight.  He looked back into her eyes and softly cupped her face with his hand and ever so slowly, that Ramona’s heart raced with every passing second, he leaned in and kissed her.  Ramona had never felt more at home. Everything about this was right.  From the way his lips fit hers, to his hand in her hair. And all she knew was that he would never break his promise like he had the last one.