25 — Dinner Date
October 25, 1938
"I expect to remain here for nearly another month," Nola replied, "then it's down home to visit family for Christmas, and then out to California for a while."
"I see. I see."
The artist stepped away from his work for a moment.
"I do thank you," he smiled, "for being so agreeable as to allow me to include the portrait in Cyril and Edna Conant's exhibition once I've completed it."
"Oh, Mr. Treewell, think nothing of it. Why, I've always sort of wanted to be exhibited. Just so long as you're not runnin' off back to England with the picture right away."
"Hmm? Oh, no. No. Some of my family are returning to England soon, but I shall stay here for a little time. My cousin Elsie is headed here on tour next year..."
"What sort of tour?"
"Oh, Elsie's an actress and singer. She's bringing her act to the Americas for the second time, and I shall travel with her entourage a bit. Then I shall go home, but only once I've passed your portrait on to you."
With that, Treewell went furiously back to work on the portrait for a moment, then stepped away again and coughed politely into the crook of his arm.
"Well, Miss Charpentier, I think we've worked our best today. The little natural light is fading."
"Yes, and I've got dinner plans."
Standing, Nola collected her coat and hat, then nodded agreeably to the artist.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Treewell."
"Good afternoon, Miss Charpentier."
As Nola left the building, she came face-to-face with the artist's wife and the two youngest children, as well as the... Well, she'd never truly pinned down if the servant had one particular title.
With the small group she passed a few moments polite conversation, then headed on her way back to her hotel. Ruby had told her there was no need to dress terribly formally, but she did want to look her best.
Three hours later, as planned, Nola found herself knocking at the by now familiar door of Ruby's father's house. The old gentleman answered, smiled, and invited her in. Of course, she barely made it two steps over the threshold before little Rebecca appeared and leapt almost into her arms.
"Did you come to see me?" the child asked.
"I came to see all of you, really. Here, lemme set you down..."
The girl was unsteady on her feet at first, but Ruby was right there in an instant, one hand steadying her child, the other arm slipping around Nola's shoulders for a hug.
"So glad you're here," she whispered.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Nola chuckled.
"And you," Ruby said, a little more fiercely, as she looked down at her daughter.
"You, miss, should be up in bed."
"But Mama..."
"Upstairs and back to bed, sugar."
"Please, Mama, tuck me back in?"
With a delicate sigh, Ruby turned, hefted Rebecca onto her hip, and carried the girl upstairs.
"G'night!" Nola called out softly, and got a sad, weak little wave in return.
"Poor child's had a sour stomach the last few days," Ruby's father said.
"I see. Poor little dear. Well, Harvey, how are you?"
"Ah, not too bad for an old codger."
Nola laughed, slipping the gift she'd brought for Ruby's father from her bag.
"Here," she said.
"Ruby mentioned a while ago how you like these cigars, so..."
"Oh! Well, and a whole box, too! Well now! Very kind, Miss Nola. Very kind. Must've cost a pretty penny."
"Think of it as an exceptionally early Christmas gift," Nola shrugged.
Eventually, Ruby made her way back downstairs, and the three of them went to the dining room. Ruby's hatchet-faced mother was already there, seated at the table with her equally dour and imposing friend, Mabel.
"Well, Miss Carpenter," the duo said, almost in unison.
Nola nodded to them pleasantly, but could almost feel Ruby's exasperated sigh.
Dinner itself passed pleasantly. The food was delicious, Harvey and Mrs. Carr didn't seem, as Ruby had warned they might, to be actively engaging in battle, and Mabel was mostly silent. If anyone was making mischief it was Ruby, but Nola didn't mind.
After the meal, they all repaired to the sitting room for a while. Harvey seemed quite pleased to enjoy the first cigar from his new case while Mrs. Carr and Mabel prodded Nola with what seemed like wagon-loads of questions until Ruby stood and made a great show of looking at the clock on the mantel.
"Well, Nola, we'd better be getting on to the party."
"The par... Oh. Oh, yes, we'd better do that."
So they made their farewells to the older people and started to leave the house, only for Ruby to pause at the foot of the stairs.
"I want to look in on Becky one more time," she whispered.
"Of course. Of course."
Nola stood there near the front door, Ruby's coat over her arm, as her companion hurried up the stairs. The thought struck her that, for all Ruby wasn't in Rebecca's life every single day, she was a very good and caring mother.
Rebecca, Nola thought, was a lucky, lucky child.
Posted Oct 25, 2019, 10:34 PM UTC · edited