Tea For Two Families

by Sydney Michelle

 

Part Three

 

Sandy clapped his hands enthusiastically. "Oh, that was good, Mommie. You too, Miz Taylor."

Beth beamed. "Why thank you, Sandy. But aren't you just a teensy bit prejudiced?"

"Oh no, Mommie. Everything you do is wonderful."

Beth laughed and swept him up in her arms, squeezing him tight. He had her wrapped around his little finger and she knew it. But he was so sweet, so precious, she would hate to give him up to Miss Fairland's in the fall.

Beth smothered her son in kisses, inhaling him as she did so. The faint sweet odor of violets in his talcum powder, a hint of lemon from his bath soap, a touch of rose attar in his hair laquer, all with an undertone that was definitely him. It was all warm and familiar, and it brought back memories of when she was carrying him.

How could I ever give him up? How could any girl be good enough to take my Sandy away? How could she love him enough, even if she gave him babies? My beautiful boy must stay with me always.

"Oh, gracious me! Look at the time! We really must be going or you won't want to have us back. Thank you, Beth, for the lovely afternoon."

"Can't you stay a little longer, Aunt Vicky? Carol Sue and I haven't gotten to play house yet, and I want to show Bitsy Tabitha's new dress."

"Must you run, Vicky? We're both so busy, we don't have time together nearly often enough."

Vicky glanced at her watch. "Well, a half hour more, I suppose. I can zap something in the microwave rather than making hamburgers. If it's not too much of a bother."

"No, not at all. I'll have Angela throw a little something together to tide us over until supper. Fruit and cheese, I think; not too sweet and not too filling. We all have to watch our figures."

"Please, Mommy, please?" Carol Sue took his mother's hand, batting the long lashes of his big baby blues. "Bitsy wants to play with Tabitha a little bit."

Vicky laughed, her pearly whites gleaming behind her crimson lips. "I'm just an old softy, but alright. But no pouting next time when I say we have to go."

"Alright, Mommy. Thank you, Mommy. Let's go up to your room, Sandy. And you come too, Freddie. Our dollies need their damas."

Freddie said nothing but shot an appealing glance at Beth.

"Run along, Fredericka. And take Samantha with you. Play nice and we'll call you down as soon as Angela has something prepared. It shouldn't be long. Now Sandy, don't you and Carol Sue get too involved. It shouldn't be more than fifteen minutes."

"Alright, Mommie. You come with me, Sam. That way Freddie and Carol Sue can come to visit us." Sandy took Samantha's hand, pulling her toward the doorway before remembering to walk beside her, his arm carefully tucked through hers.

Vicky watched, eyes misting, as her Carol gathered up Freddie with one arm while holding her Bitsy in the other. The pair stood still for a moment, Carol Sue getting comfortably close to Freddie while they gave Sandy and Sam time to get comfortably ahead of them. Sam fidgeted slightly shifting from one foot to the other, then looked down at Carol Sue who was looking up adoringly at her.

"You look very nice today."

"Thank you. But you said that already."

"Do you mind my saying it again?"

"No, I never mind what you say. And you look very nice, too."

"Shall we go?"

"Yes, we should. If you'll lead the way?"

"Follow me."

"Always."

The pair swept though the doorway, as much as a pair of nine and five year olds could. Since each was an experienced pageant participant, that was better than most teenagers.

"So. How now, brown cow?"

"Back to the garden room. We can have tea and look out over my hydrangeas while Angela fixes us a bite. And you can fill me in on all the latest gossip." Beth took her friend's arm and steered her toward the doorway.

"Moi? Gossip? Why whenever would I get the time or inclination?"

"Oh hush, Miss Piggy. You know very well that you get over to High Style to have your hair done more than I do. And Miss Jennie and her crew are hardly models of discretion. Surely you have some inkling of who's doing what to whom."

Vicky cast a sharp glance at her friend. "Well, if you put it that way."

The two women took the same seats, Vicky looking out at two ruby throated hummingbirds flitting over the pale blue hydrangea blossoms. Beth picked up a crystal bell and rang it gently.

"Save it for the moment. Then I want all the juicy details."

"Yes, Ma'am?" Angela appeared noiselessly from out of the kitchen.

"Tea for Miz Taylor and me, Angela, the Assam. And prepare a small fruit and cheese plate for the children and us. The Edam, twelve slices. And apple and peach slices. With Melba Toast. And a small bowl of the honey peanut butter so the children can dip. The children can have orange pekoe."

"Yes, Ma'am." Angela dipped to acknowledge his orders, his silver ring bobbing slightly.

"He is a find."

"I know. I'm not sure what I'll do once he settles down into a home of his own. Oh, well, Cathy will just have to find me another maid. Now give."

"Well. I understand Joyce Brooks has knocked up Donna again."

"No! What's that? Their third?"

"Uh-huh. Little stair steps. Joyce always says she wants her brood finished before she's forty."

"If she hadn't waited so long to rob the cradle, she could have had four without wearing out her wife. As is, Donna's always pregnant or nursing."

"Oh, pooh. I bet he loves it. At twenty-one, he was hardly a child when Joyce hung her ring in his nose. When he walked down that aisle, he knew Joyce wanted a big family. I'll bet he's enjoying being barefoot and pregnant, he's so glowy when he is. Getting and being pregnant was about the only good thing I got out of Bill."

The tea kettle whistle began to sound softly from the kitchen.

"It couldn't have been all bad. After all he wrote several songs about you."

"I could have done without 'Uptight and Upright' and 'Forlorn and Forsaken' after I caught him in bed with those two groupies. At least I'm getting royalties off 'Wondering' since he gave that one to me for a wedding present."

"Fall for a musician and stability is not the name of the game. Not since Lawrence Welk, anyway."

"Are sales reps any better?"

Beth frowned. "He played a good game. And now, I'm not entirely sure he wasn't telling the truth when he said his slipping it to that intern wasn't the first time he strayed. The children tell me Sherry's pregnant again. Making babies always did give Alex a giant ego boost."

"Tea, ladies." Angela set down a silver tray, unloading cups and spoon, a bowl of sugar cubes, and a small plate of lemon slices and fresh mint. "Neither of you takes cream, if I remember rightly?"

"No, that's fine, Angela. I'll pour. When the fruit is ready, call the children down. They will want cream. Once you have served, you can leave for the day. I'll clear."

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am."

Vicky's eyes followed Angela back to the kitchen. "There's a nice wiggle in that walk. Nice long hips. He'll carry easily for his dama. Maybe you should have Cathy start looking for a replacement."

"Oh, hush. I'll have months after his Allison pops the question. After all, it's not like they'll have to hurry so the wedding date precedes the birth date."

"Well, accidents do still happen. But you're probably right."

"Two lumps?"

"Just one. After all your good food."

Beth handed her friend a cup, then the plate of lemon and mint before pouring her own cup. "So more about Donna Brooks. I thought he was still nursing. Blaine, isn't it?"

"Yes." Vicky stirred her tea before crushing a single mint stem. "But he weaned Blaine a good six months ago. As a matter of fact, I'm thinking of using Blaine in my fall production."

"My, time flies. So how far along is Donna?"

"Jennie says two months now. He should start to show a little in six weeks or so."

Beth raised her cup to her lips. "Uhm. Comen do start to pooch earlier. Although being his third, you'd think he'd have earned a bit of a spread in his pelvic girdle."

Vicky laughed. "He may need a boob job when he's done giving suck, but he works to maintain that trim behind of his. If he winds up sobbing in his pillow because Joyce has gone for a trophy wife, it won't be because he's too fat to capture and milk."

"You sound as if you know something. Joyce isn't bonking her secretary, is she?"

"Not that I've heard. She enjoys being a dama. A lot. And Donna gets more besotted with every baby. For him, Joyce hung the sun and the moon; he's the perfect little housewife. But you never know about the seven year itch. Spreading the same piece of action can get, for some women, boring."

"So you're just speculating?"

"It's just a possibility. Lord knows we each know how that goes."

A cough sounded behind them. "How many places, Ma'am?"

"Oh. Six, Angela. One pot should be sufficient for the children. It's just a snack."

"Yes, Ma'am."

The women sipped there tea, alternating glances with each other and at the flowers. Angela efficiently laid out the places, glass salad plates, napkins, and salad forks. The women didn't speak even when he disappeared, knowing it would be less than a minute before he reappeared with a platter, a pot and four floral pattern tea cups.

"And the children are, Ma'am?"

"Upstairs. In Sandy's room, Angela."

"Very good, Ma'am." Angela left silently, his tread silenced by crepe sole shoes.

"Miss Otis regrets."

"Who?"

"Miss Otis."

"I don't think I know her."

"Sure you do. Remember high school? The Senior Spring Variety?"

"Oh. Yes. 'She's unable to lunch today.' Whatever made you think of that, Beth?"

"Oh, I don't know. Your Bill. Infidelity. Angela, the perfect servant. It just popped into my head, along side of a picture of Donna so heavy he's about to burst while Joyce dances with some high toned blonde."

"I just think you're under serviced, my dear. You really should get out and on top more."

"And you, my dear Vicky, have, like most show people, sex on the brain."

"Lately it's all been in my head."

"Physician, heal thyself."

"Well, Dr. Tompkins does have that cute new PA, Leslie."

"Hush, Vicky. The children are coming."

"Just remember, my offer still stands."

The children made their entrance by pairs, Sandy with Samantha, Carol Sue with Freddie. The older girls struggled to seat their birls, with Angela lending a discrete helping hand. Skirts spread, chairs pushed slightly under, the children were soon settled at the table.

Beth let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Images of an earlier get together, just after the Fourth, flashed through her mind. With an outdoor grill of hot dogs and chili, the children had been running around like little hellions, the girls holding sparklers while they chased the shrieking birls. Partly it was just burning off youthful energy while their mothers fretted that someone would out an eye out. But partly it was the girls' revenge for the birls tagging along at the fireworks display when they had wanted to be alone with their friends.

"Did you have a nice play time, Carol Sue?"

"Oh, yes, Mama. And Bitsy really liked Tabitha's new dress. It's yellow and has ruffles, and it's almost like Sandy's new pageant frock."

"Oh that sounds very nice. Where did you find that, Beth?"

"Miz Sailmaker was kind enough to make it up from the scraps of Sandy's new gown. Something of an early birthday present. Fredericka, you had better pour for your guests. Sandy, you can add sugar and cream."

"How nice of her. Did you enjoy yourself upstairs, Samantha?"

"Yes, Momma." Samantha's answer wasn't very enthusiastic, but she was busy eyeing the fruit and cheese."

The women watched as their children went through the tea ritual, noting how they fulfilled their roles as hostess and guest. They nodded approvingly at each "Would you like?" and "Thank you" and "Your welcome." Making a habit of the little niceties, of being easy with polite phrases was useful when meeting the friends and relations of the other pageant participants, and would ease meeting the parents of new classmates at Mrs. Fairland's. It was never too early for the children to make a habit of "Nashville manners."

Angela appeared just after the children's cups were passed around, a light blue shawl over her arm. "Will there be anything else, Ma'am, before I leave?"

"No, thank you, Angela. You were very helpful as always. There's a little something extra in the envelope by the back door." The women paid Cumberland Custodial for the time, but a little something extra, generally a dollar an hour, helped to keep the help happy between bonuses, much like tipping your shampoo birl.

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am."

The children managed to get through their snack without annoying each other, dripping tea or peanut butter on their dresses, or blurting out one of the new words Sam and Freddie liked to try out to shock their mothers. Once more, decorum reigned, helped by Sandy and Carol Sue wanting to impress the girls with how grown up they were and the girls getting extra pieces of fruit and toast.

Vicky put down her cup and patted her lips lightly with the striped napkin. "Well, Beth, this has been very nice. Once the children settle into school, we must do this at my house next time. Come, children, thank your hostesses and we must be going. Can we help you clear before we leave, Beth?"

"No, thank you. We can manage. Now don't be strangers."

"Never fear. Sandy's birthday party is Friday next, right? And this month's pageant is the Thursday after?"

"Right."

"Why don't you drop the children off next Wednesday with me for a play date? A change from Busy Bee. And if you decide they can sleep over, well, I'm sure I can manage."

"That might me nice. I'll ring you tomorrow."

Vicky hugged Beth, kissed her cheek lightly. "Thank you again for the lovely afternoon." She laid her cheek on Beth's and whispered, "Mommie needs a play date too, don't forget."

The Browns saw the Taylors to the door where the parting hugs and kisses were repeated. When the birls kissed the girls' cheeks, they seemed to put a little extra enthusiasm into it, an enthusiasm the older girls did not totally share. But with gloves on and hats in place, Vicky had her brood waving goodbye before they settled into the back of her El Dorado.

"Now then. Let's get the dishes into the dishwasher and the tea pots in the sink, and we can all get out of our party clothes and get comfortable while I fix us something to eat. Aprons on."

"Do we have to wear aprons?" Freddie was positively allergic to layers, especially during the summer.

"Yes you do, young lady, the pretty hostess ones. You don't want to risk messing up that pretty dress and costing me a trip to the cleaners. It's just for a few minutes. As soon as you're done, you can take it off and go upstairs to change."

The two children stood quietly in the middle of the kitchen while Beth opened the pantry. There were two sets of hooks on the back of the door, flanking the racks that held boxes of gelatins, and pudding and soup mixes. One side held the utilitarian aprons, full bibbed, strong, solid colored materials. The others held their hostess aprons, two sets. One set was bibless, just enough to cover a flared skirt in case of an accidental splash. The others had low bibs the covered the abdomen. Both sets were edged with ruffles. Both were made of flowery material, greens and yellows, reds and blues, with touches of browns and navys, varied enough to complement almost any summer frock.

"Ta-da!" Beth produced the bibbed set with a flourish. Before Freddie could mount another protest, each child was laced into an apron, round strings of the material tied behind their necks to hold up the bibs. Beth's fingers flounced the curls of her children's heads to make sure they weren't tangled in the strings. But she took pleasure in positioning the curls just so, feeling the crisp circles of hair warm in her hand. So pretty. I do good work, even if I do say so. Despite Alex. Wouldn't he have a fit to see his Alexander now, such pretty curls, all sugar and spice. And loving it.

"Now fetch! Quick, but don't hurry. Plates first."

The children had the procedure down. Freddie would take things from the table and Sandy would carry them into the kitchen. Plates, then saucers, then the tray with the sugar and creamer, the bowl and silver. Empty cups came, dangling three from each hand, Sandy's arms carefully extended away from his skirt, the fingers little hooks. But it was Freddie who brought in the pots, still deemed too heavy for her little brother.

"There! Aren't you Mother's Little Helpers? Give me sugar." Beth bent down to plant wet smacks on her children's cheeks. "I'm so proud of you two! You were so nice to your guests today."

Freddie blushed just ever so little and looked down, somehow feeling a big girl of nine shouldn't have to be made such a fuss over for such a little thing. But loving it anyway.

Sandy just beamed. He was mother's pet, and he loved it. To be praised by her was still his biggest joy, even bigger than being paid attention by Sam. If she wanted him to wear pretty dresses, and have his hair done, and perform in pageants, then he would do that as best. Even more than his liking that anyway.

"Now scoot upstairs and change."

"Mommie?"

"Yes, Sandy?"

"Could you come help me?"

"Yes, Sweetheart. Go on up while I finish down here. I'll just be a minute."

Beth watched the two skip through the door, Sandy's sky blue petticoated dress with a silver bow trailing behind Freddie's yellow Empire with a cornflower blue sash. So lovely. If I could just dip them in amber and keep them this way forever. Oh well, a keepsake photo will have to do instead.

  

  

  

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