Rapture's Rendezvous

“Three,” Mama Pearl giggled. “One for my quarters, one for yours, and one for Mastah Hawkins's own private bedroom.”

“Do you mean that I will have a room … all to … myself… 7’ Maria asked hopefully. If she and Nathan weren't in the same bed each evening, maybe she wouldn't have to play the wife so often. Shivers raced up and down her spine, remembering how quickly he had always mounted her and left her lying feeling so used. Never once had he asked if she had enjoyed it. He had just thought of his needs. Only his needs. But, in fact, she had been grateful for that. In no way would he ever be able to arouse any sexual feelings in her.

“Mastah Hawkins's business hours often move into the awkward hours of the night,” Mama Pearl said, moving from chair to chair, fluffing cushions. “A private bedroom was his suggestion, so he wouldn't disturb you in the sometimes wee hours of the morning.”

“Oh, I see,” Mana said, still oh so relieved. Her gaze traveled around the room, seeing more of it this second time. A fireplace that covered the narrower, longer wall grabbed her quick attention. She knew that the chimney would have to be cleaned yearly. Were there chimney sweeps in the area? Would there possibly even be one she would have to hire? It made a strange sensation surge through her realizing that she was now in the position to do the hiring, instead of being the one being hired. But many things had changed since a few days ago. Many, many things.

She looked further around her, marveling at the lightbulbs shining so clearly from the crystal chandelier and the many wall sconces. What a marvelous invention to not have to strike a match to a wick to bring forth enough light to light a room. The lights of Saint Louis had been an incredible sight, as was everything about that marvelous city. She could understand why such a man as Michael would live there. Was he not a great man?

She moved to a back window, staring outward at the row after row of grapevines. She turned to Mama Pearl, eyes heavy with wonder. “Mama Pearl, why does Nathan have such a vineyard? Does he have such an interest in the growing of grapes with his thoughts being so full of his coal mine?”

Mama Pearl moved to her side and pulled a drape aside, also looking outward. “He hopes one day to have a wine named aftah him. How bettah than to start with growm’ his own grapes for wine?”

“A wine named after him?” Maria said, wanting to laugh out loud. It so sounded like something Nathan would want. He was so egotistical… so arrogant.

‘If ah knows mah Mastah Hawkins very well, he'll succeed,” Mama Pearl giggled. “He usually gets every-thin’ he hungahs foh.”

Maria moved away from the window, working her gloves from her fingers, one at a time. “You do like Nathan, don't you?” she asked softly.

Mama Pearl straightened the drapes, smoothing their lines with her deft fingers. “He's been good to me,” she said. “Can't ask foh more than that.” She moved to Maria's side. “Now are you ready to be shown your room, Sweet Baby?” She reached up and touched the softness of Maria's hat. Envy showed at the depth of Mama Pearl's eyes. Maria understood such envy. Up until only a few days before, she had felt such envy, almost a hunger inside when she had seen beautifully attired ladies.

Smiling, Maria reached up and removed two hatpins from her hat and lifted the hat from her head. “Do you like the hat, Mama Pearl?” she asked softly, handing it to Mama Pearl.

“One of the prettiest ah've evah seen,” Mama Pearl sighed, running her fingers along the satin-faced brim.

“It's yours,” Maria said, taking one of Mama Pearl's hands, easing her hat into it.

“Mine . . . ?” Mama Pearl gasped, eyes wide. “But ah'm sho Mastah Hawkins wouldn't want you to. . . .”

Maria straightened her back and set her jaws firmly. “I don't care what Nathan Hawkins thinks,” she said. “If I want to give a gift to you, it is my right to do so. Please accept this hat as a gift from me to you as a souvenir from the great city of Saint Louis.” “But.. . it's yours“

Maria sighed heavily, loosening her hair from its combs and pins. “Mama Pearl, didn't you see the many hatboxes delivered to this house? Nathan must have purchased one of each style for me. I won't miss just one. Please believe me.”

Maria placed her combs and pins on a table, then went to Mama Pearl. “Here. Let me place it atop your head,” she said softly. She took the hat and arranged it over the tight, gray bun, seeing a softness in Mama Pearl's eyes as she did so. Mama Pearl reached up and touched it gingerly, making Maria proud. Maria stepped back, eyes wide, smiling. “Like it, Mama Pearl?” she asked, clasping her hands together in front of her.

Mama Pearl's fingers movecl over it, then she broke into a fit of giggles. “Land's sake, Sweet Baby,” she said. “Nevah, no nevah have ah had such a thing of style on this head of mine.”

Maria giggled also, then tensed when a loud banging on the front door forced an awkward silence between her and Mama Pearl. When the knocking persisted, Mama Pearl rushed to the door and opened it, exclaiming loudly, “You again? Why do you con-tinue to pestah me so?”

Maria's heartbeat skipped when she heard the loud voice of Alberto traveling across the threshold into the room.

“I'm here to see Maria Lazzaro,” he boomed. ‘Just like I have been for the past several days. Has she arrived back here yet? If so, I must see her. Til put it even more strongly than that. 1 insist on seeing her.”

With weakened knees, Maria hurried to the door and stepped in front of Mama Pearl. “Alberto? Oh. Alberto,” she cried, rushing into his arms.

“Maria, what is this all about?” he demanded, pushing her away from him, holding her at arm's length, studying her. His eyes raked over her, over and over again, seeing the fanciness of her attire. He had never seen his sister look so beautiful. But in Nathan Hawkins's house? Explanations were due!

“Did you and Papa receive word by messenger, Alberto?” Maria asked, wiping

a tear from her eye. She now realized that a part of her had just been put in place again. She and Alberto had never been separated before. Seeing him now made her ache, knowing that she had put him from her mind so easily.

“Yes. We received word all right,” Alberto growled. “Word that you had ventured off with Nathan Hawkins to Saint Louis.”

“Didn't the message state that I was to become . . . Nathan Hawkins's wife?” Maria gasped, paling. Had Nathan felt it safer not to include that tidbit of infor- mation? Maybe he had guessed the anger of Alberto

Alberto dropped his hands to his sides, eyes wide. “Did you . . . say . . . wife . .. ?” he gasped, also pal-ing.

Maria's gaze lowered. She fluttered her lashes nervously. “Yes. I am now … his wife . . . Alberto,” she confessed.