Four of a Kind: A women's historical fiction Read Online Free PDF Page B

manly.
    Although hosted in various homes, they had an orderly routine that they adhered to, their time together hard earned and must not be squandered. The meeting had come to order when we entered the front parlor. As unassuming as possible, I sat on an overly stuffed sofa colored in rich hues of flower patterns, and sank deeply into its upholstery. It was not easy to sit comfortably in my tight corset, suddenly understanding why my mother-in-law’s cushions were less generous. I moved to the edge to straighten my posture and from there I could see the high tin-plated ceiling stamped in diamond patterns. A colored housekeeper delivered to the center table a shiny silver tea tray laden with cookies and small cakes, before joining me on the sofa. I was shocked they allowed her to sit with us, as if she were white.
    Soon the sweet tinkle of chatter mixed with teacups was replaced with one voice. That of Cady Pickering. With surprise I recognized Cady as a teacher at my children’s school, and wondered why she was not teaching that day.
    With teacups quietly resting on our laps, Cady quickly captured the attention of the others. I was awed by Cady’s self-confidence. Her tone was neither loud nor overbearing, yet its soft consonants filled the room. She controlled the agenda as a teacher would her classroom. She read from a paper the topics of discussion from their last meeting.
    I could not be attentive for long, not with these elaborate surroundings distracting me. I had not seen anything like it. The two vast windows took my breath away. The window dressing was layeredin royal blue brocade satin and white sheer under-panels. The matching blue valance was draped and trimmed in tassels and rosettes. The chairs placed under each window were in the same fabric, a marble table and a golden oblong mirror between the two. From my vantage point, I could see beyond the two open doors of the parlor to the main entrance hall’s winding staircase. Midway up the stairs, above the landing, was a stained-glass window throwing in rainbows of colors onto the lightly stained wood of rosettes, beading, wainscoting, and spiral spindles.
    Suffice it to say that truly my head was fairly spinning, consumed with the overwhelming peculiarity of having tea with these infamous ladies right here in a manor house.
    Cady finished reading the paper (I couldn’t recall a word of it but noted her hand was trembling). She took a deep breath. “Ladies, it is time we take charge and face our enemies.”
    My birdbrain still hadn’t absorbed the importance of this meeting. I simply noted the perfect postures of Cady and Eunice, their spines not touching the backs of their chairs.
    Eunice was as thin and straight as the pen she held poised over clean paper, ready to record today’s discussion. Her black hair was parted down the center and brushed back into a tightly rolled bun, her spectacles on the end of her nose giving her a young granny look.
    The others waited expectantly as Cady took off her spectacles. She had generous sprinkles of freckles on her hands and face. The small streaks of gray through her light brown hair only added to her persona of wisdom. Her hair hung loosely knotted at her neck, threatening to unfurl. She took a deep breath, eyeing each lady with purpose. “Ladies, we have a dilemma. I must be frank here and say we will be required to gather our strength from within, and from each other. We must move forward from our homes into the light of open scrutiny. We have nothing to be ashamed of. Wrapped in the warmth of camaraderie, we must take a stand.”
    Her eyes rested briefly on the lady across from her. Phyllis’ white hair, further highlighted by the sun’s patched rays coming through the parlor windows, gave her a halo. She sat relaxed with knees apartas only Phyllis could get away with and I saw her slightly nod to Cady as if to encourage her to continue. Cady’s eyes shifted to the window behind and I recognized the yearning