23

The planning of the bridal ball required a great deal of thought and attention to detail. For weeks, the entire school would be completely devoted to the preparations for the yearly dance. Abrianna’s aunts were quite purposeful in their themes and decorations. They often spent most of their free time after Christmas each year searching through various magazines for ideas. This year had been no exception.

Aunt Poisie had talked her sister and Selma into a nautical theme in honor of her dearly departed sea captain. She reasoned that it had been ten years since he was lost at sea, and it would only be appropriate to remember him with the theme of the ball. Aunt Miriam and Aunt Selma had been hesitant at first but now agreed that it was a perfect idea.

The ladies of the school were deeply involved in the actual making and setup of the decorations. It gave the girls a creative outlet that seemed to ease the tension of wondering and fretting over whether or not they might find themselves receiving a proposal of marriage at the ball. Abrianna could only thank God that she wasn’t among those young women.

Frankly, if I never marry, that will be just fine. But a longing fell upon her that she did her best to ward off. There was no sense in contemplating the matter now, with so much work to be done.

The ballroom was normally rather plain, but her aunts always managed to transform the space to a point where everyone forgot about the location and instead imagined themselves whisked away to a private retreat.

“I rather liked the Queen Victoria theme we had two years ago,” Aunt Selma said, observing the progress her students had made.

“Well, we couldn’t very well have it again so soon,” Aunt Miriam chided. “Perhaps she will live a good many more years, and we can try it again at a later date.”

“I suppose that is the sensible way to manage it,” Selma replied.

Abrianna, dressed in serviceable work clothes, rolled up her sleeves and chuckled. “I wonder what the Queen of England would think to know we patterned our annual ball after her life in the palace. Goodness, but she would probably think us all mad. Imagine if she were to design her balls around a boarding school for brides.”

“Oh my,” Aunt Miriam said, shaking her head. “You do think of the strangest things.”

“I suppose I can’t help it,” Abrianna said thoughtfully. “Perhaps my mother or father thought in such a manner. I wonder about it from time to time. After all, surely the actions and thoughts of one’s parents would influence a child, at least in part. I mean, wouldn’t it stand to reason that the blood in one’s veins would give weight to one’s behavior and thinking? Of course, I suppose where one lives might also conspire to sway one’s temperament.”

Aunt Miriam and Aunt Selma looked at her as if her words had proven their point. Abrianna could only smile. She knew that she could be quite the unusual dreamer, and that while her aunts were used to her comments and contemplations, they were also baffled by them.

“I do like those colors,” Aunt Miriam said, moving the topic of conversation back to the ball. Across the room several of the young ladies were working together to hang swaths of crepe and tulle in violet gray, sea green, and turquoise blue—the latter of which did not resemble the waters of Puget Sound but rather those of the Caribbean Sea. This, Abrianna remembered, had been discussed at great length with the final verdict rendered that while the blue was unlike their own waterfront, it was indeed the color of seawater elsewhere. Aunt Poisie had this on good authority. It was exactly the color blue that her captain had described to her after one of his more lengthy voyages south. With that thought, the matter was settled.

“I believe adding the shells in our design was a stroke of genius, Sister,” Aunt Poisie declared. “I’m so glad you thought to write to your friend in Florida to secure them.”

Abrianna had been amazed that the shipment had arrived with most all of the shells intact. Had it not been for Aunt Miriam’s specific details for packaging and shipping, they might have all been lost. With the fabric, seashells, papier-mâché, and real flowers, as well as netting, the room was taking on the appearance of a tropical paradise. At least what Abrianna imagined it might be.

Leaving her aunts to discuss what else needed attending, Abrianna slipped off to the kitchen, where Lenore was busy laboring over her most difficult project to date. A crown of lamb. Abrianna thought it looked very much like a battle had ensued between Lenore and the meat. She labored with two separate pieces to form them into a circle that could be sewn together. Just as she would have one piece in perfect order, however, the other would slouch to one side or fall over altogether.

“I don’t know why you are bothering with this. Now that you know Kolbein is rich, you can hire a cook to do this for you,” Abrianna declared from the door.

“If you are only here to criticize, then you may go. Otherwise, you might lend me a hand.” Lenore’s frustration was clear.

Crossing the room, Abrianna took up the string lying on the table. “Is this to tie it into place?”

“Yes,” Lenore replied. “I never thought a little lamb could be such a devilish beast.” She worked to form the ribs into a standing formation once again. “When I get this just so, you tie it together. Then I can get the ends sewn together and move forward in this process.”

Abrianna did as instructed, all the while talking about Lenore’s upcoming wedding. It was now just two weeks away, and already Abrianna was starting to feel the loneliness. “I shall miss you so dearly while you are away on your wedding trip. I hope you won’t forget me. I just couldn’t bear to think of you forgetting me. I know I shall never forget you.”

“Oh, stuff and nonsense,” Lenore replied. “I could never forget you. You are my dearest friend. Really more like a sister.”

“And you are to me, as well,” Abrianna said. “Even so, I can see how marriage will divide us. You will have your loyalties placed elsewhere while mine remain with you.”

“Abrianna,” Lenore said, finally managing to stitch one side of the crown together, “one day you will find true love yourself, and then you’ll understand better. While I will give Kolbein my utmost devotion and loyalty, I will never stop caring for you. To prove this to you, I will tell you a secret. I was going to wait, but I can see you need the information now.”

“Do speak words of comfort,” Abrianna said, knowing the words would sound overly dramatic. She smiled. “I so long to hear them.”

Lenore giggled. “Well, the comfort I can offer you is this. Kolbein has found us a house. It is only a short walk from the one where you will live after the move. I specifically asked Kolbein to keep the new school’s location in mind, and he quite neatly arranged to purchase a beautiful house at the end of the block.”

Abrianna’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t help her surprise. She had never in her wildest imaginings thought such a thing possible. “Oh, that is wonderful! I am positively relieved of my grief. We shall not see our friendship fall into the vast void that might otherwise separate us.”

“It’s true,” Lenore said, still smiling. She finished lacing the meat and then stood back to survey the little crown she’d created. “There, I think it looks fit for a king.”

“King Kolbein, that is,” Abrianna added.

Lenore ignored her and was already searching through the recipe for her next step. “I have already trimmed the bones to a uniform evenness,” she commented while running her finger down the page of what Abrianna recognized as the Mrs. Lincoln’s Boston Cook Book. Aunt Miriam swore complete devotion to this new cooking tool. Having only been published a few years earlier, her aunts had insisted on having several copies to use when teaching.

“It says here I’m to wrap each bone in salted pork to prevent burning.” She looked up. “I suppose if the bones were blackened it would be far less appealing.”

Abrianna nodded. “No doubt.” Abrianna watched as Lenore wrapped each rib bone with the tenderness of a mother for her babe. She might have offered to help, but it seemed Lenore was quite caught up in her duties. With that finally managed, she wiped her hands on the apron and went back to consult the book.

“Then I’m to cover the bones with buttered paper and roast the entire thing for one and one-fourth hours.”

“Sounds like your most arduous tasks are over,” Abrianna said, smiling. “You will no doubt impress your king.”

“Perhaps with the roast itself, but I still need to make the suggested chestnut puree to put in the middle.” She shook her head. “We’ve only had mint sauce or jelly with lamb at home. I suppose, however, that Mrs. Lincoln knows how to prepare a proper crown of lamb.”

“I would think so. After all, they took her word and created the book. Mercy, just imagine if she only made up the recipes and never tried them. We might well expect a most inedible dish of food. Aunt Miriam said it’s always necessary to test out one’s recipes before touting their quality.”

“I’m sure Mrs. Lincoln would have done just that.”

“Why, just last week I made the terrible mistake of putting in salt for sugar in my applesauce. The taste was unbearable. If I hadn’t sampled it first, I might have given the entire school salt poisoning. Aunt Selma said that had we a garden, we might have used the applesauce for weed killer. Imagine that.”

“Abrianna, I’ve been looking all over for you,” Aunt Miriam interrupted, marching into the room like an agitated schoolmistress. “This is the last place I would have thought to find you.”

“I was helping Lenore. See here, her little crown is complete with its pork covering and buttered paper. Now it is ready for the oven.”

Aunt Miriam inspected the piece and nodded her approval. “You’ve performed the task perfectly.”

“Thank you, but I doubt I could have done it without Abrianna’s help. My little lamb was less than cooperative.”

“They often are,” Aunt Miriam agreed. She then turned to Abrianna. “I am hopeful that you managed to complete the hems for the tablecloths we’ll be using at the ball.”

“I did, Aunt Miriam, although I cannot say they are the best of my work. The thread kept puckering the material, and it caused me a great trial. Through prayer and considerable frustration, however, I did manage to complete the task. Although I will say I hope never again to be taxed with such a test.”

Aunt Miriam rolled her eyes. “And where did you leave them?”

“In the sewing room after I pressed them. You’ll find them hanging, just as you instructed.”

“I shall go and inspect them and make sure your issues with the thread were completely resolved. I would appreciate it if you would go back to help the girls in making ready the ballroom. There is still a great deal of work to be done in the next two weeks.”

Reluctantly Abrianna did as she was told. She would much rather have spent her time with Lenore. While it comforted her to know that Lenore and Kolbein would live nearby, the fact remained that a husband would take up a lot of Lenore’s time. Abrianna knew this because Aunt Selma had often told her stories of her labors to keep Mr. Gibson happy. Apparently husbands were just as needy as children when it came to having their clothing laid out and their meals prepared. Aunt Selma had declared them to be most tiresome when seeking entertainment or consolation on long winter evenings. Of course, Lenore would have the added benefit of servants, but even then she would have to direct them and plan their duties.

The same gloom she had known earlier embraced her now. This really was to be the end of something quite precious. Their friendship would never stay the same. Not with one of them married and the other . . . well . . .

Abrianna couldn’t understand the ache within her heart. She had always intended to spend her adult years working for the Lord. She had thought perhaps that someone would come alongside her, a man whom she could love. He would be completely invested in helping the poor and underprivileged. He would be kindhearted and soft-spoken. His very words would ease the worry of those around him.

She smiled to herself. Did such a man even exist?

On Sunday Wade joined the ladies for the noon meal, as he usually did. Today the fare was a delicious halibut with all manner of vegetables to accompany it. All in all, it was a very satisfying meal. Wade had been particularly surprised when Mrs. Madison announced that Abrianna had been responsible for making the dinner rolls. It would seem the hoyden was being tamed. He couldn’t help but grin.

“What are you so happy about?” Abrianna asked. Several of the young ladies had already departed the table for an afternoon of leisure. On Sundays the rules were rather relaxed, and while some were off to tend to other things, there were often a half dozen or so who would linger over dessert. Today it was Mrs. Gibson’s famous blackberry cobbler and homemade ice cream.

Wade shrugged. “I guess a good meal always puts me in a mood of contentment. What about you? You seem awfully quiet today. Are you ill?”

“Abrianna is mourning her friend’s upcoming marriage,” Mrs. Madison declared. “Although I’ve assured her that Lenore will still find time for their friendship.”

“Of course she will. Why would you think otherwise?” Wade asked.

Abrianna shifted in her seat and looked quite uncomfortable. “It cannot help but change everything. I’m encouraged to know they have chosen a house very close to the school’s new location, but I fear there will be a substantial lessening of our time together. Kolbein will be her husband and require her full attention, and as Aunt Selma has said in the past, some husbands require a great deal of tending.” She looked to her aunt with a nod.

Wade laughed out loud, receiving Mrs. Madison’s frown and a startled look from Mrs. Gibson and Miss Poisie. It was Mrs. Madison who spoke, however. “As a former wife, I can vouch for this, Wade Ackerman. Men can be quite helpless at times.”

“I’ve no doubt, but women can be just as much in need of . . . tending at times. However, my laugh was not to show disrespect. I am only amused at Abrianna’s melodramatic mannerisms. One would think Kolbein intended to chain Lenore to the house. You do realize, don’t you, Abrianna, that Kolbein will also be working a job—something, as I understand, he wouldn’t necessarily have to do. You’ll have all day to visit, if you’d like.”

“It’s true that Kolbein will work,” Abrianna replied, “but Lenore will still need to manage her household and servants. She may have very little time to join me on my crusades or even to visit over tea.”

“I seriously doubt Lenore will be interested in your crusades in the same way you are.” Wade smiled sympathetically. “Few women could manage what you do.”

“Speaking of which,” Abrianna said, getting to her feet abruptly, “I wonder if you would accompany me to see a couple of my friends. Last we met, Barnabus had taken a summer cold, and old Mrs. Mannheim was suffering terribly from her rheumatism. I promised that I would help her clean her cupboards.”

“On the Lord’s day?” Aunt Selma asked in shock.

“Jesus cleansed the sick with healing on the Sabbath, and what with the restrictions you place upon me for my safety, I can hardly see to the task during the week. Sunday is one of the only days Wade has free to accompany me. Now, if you were to let me journey out on my own as I used to do—”

“No!” Wade declared in a firm tone. “I will go with you today and help you accomplish whatever is to be done.” He got to his feet. “Thank you for a wonderful meal, ladies. I very much enjoyed your company and the food.”

“Since you will be coming back with Abrianna when she returns home,” Mrs. Madison said matter-of-factly, “I will have some food for you to take to your place then.”

“Thank you. I’ll never grow lean so long as I have your friendship.”

“It’ll be different once we move,” Abrianna told him as they made their way from the dining room into the kitchen. She gathered several different things and put them in her basket. “You’ll have a much longer walk.”

“It’s not that much farther for me. It’s just a straight walk up the harbor, no more than a mile or so. Instead of walking into the heart of the city, I will simply take a different route. I’ll manage it just fine.”

Abrianna led the way from the kitchen and down the back stairs. “Still, it will be different. I will miss things the way they are.”

“What do you mean?” Wade asked. She seemed much more serious than she’d been at dinner.

“I will miss this place and the ease with which I could slip down to your shop. I will miss the bustle of the city. We shall be on several acres and no doubt sheltered from the noise.” She shrugged. “I’ll miss it. I’ll miss the vendors calling out their wares and the boys with the newspapers clamoring for business. I’ll even miss the folks coming and going at all hours of the night.”

“I can’t imagine that being a loss in your life.” He heard her heave a sigh and knew there was more. Something was troubling her. “What’s this really about, Abrianna? You haven’t been this miserable since you had to start pinning your hair up and wearing longer skirts.” He grinned. “So tell me the truth. What has you so perplexed?”

She allowed him to lead her across the street before she attempted to answer. When she spoke it was in a hesitant manner that was most unlike the young woman.

“I know . . . that everything in life . . . changes. I suppose that Lenore and Kolbein’s upcoming wedding has me realizing it more than ever before.” Her brows knit and her face took on a worried expression. “I don’t really understand what is wrong with me, but I feel . . . well . . . an empty place inside.” She touched her hand to her heart. “I suppose that sounds strange, but it is a deep aching.”

Wade shook his head. “It isn’t all that strange. God made us to enjoy the company of other folks. Sounds to me like you’re mourning a loss that hasn’t happened. Lenore is just getting married. She hasn’t died.”

“But it’s a sort of death to our friendship, don’t you think? I suppose I just don’t like change. Perhaps that is my greatest flaw.”

He chuckled. “Abrianna, not liking change isn’t your great flaw.” He winked at the surprised look on her face. “In fact, I don’t think you have any great flaws, unless it’s taking too many chances. You are one of the most unflawed people I know. You have a heart bigger than the Pacific, and you genuinely care about what happens to the folks around you.”

“But I suppose . . . oh, please don’t say anything to my aunts, but I feel alone.”

She looked to him with such a sorrowful expression that Wade couldn’t help but stop walking. “You’ll never be alone so long as I’m alive. Haven’t we always had each other? Helped each other?”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “That won’t change, Abrianna.”

“It will one day . . . when you take a wife,” she said sadly.