Episode 15

 “This seems to be a good place to stop, Auntie.”

For the first time, Phee had grown weary before her aunt.

“As you wish, dear Ophelia. Are you still enjoying the story, or are you now reading it for my entertainment?” Though Miss Eugenia believed the former to be true, she wanted assurance.

“Of course! My goodness, I always am anxious to read what happens next! But tonight, I have grown tired and my throat has begun to hurt. For both reasons, I shall bid you a good evening, auntie.”

Phee bent over and gave her auntie a light kiss on the cheek. The elderly lady was unaccustomed to any show of affection beyond kind words, so the gesture brought tears to her eyes which she held at bay until her niece exited the room.

Sleep did not come easily for Ophelia. There was much to ponder. What she thought would be a simple tale had metamorphosized into one which made her think even more deeply than she did when she read one of Jane Austen’s romances. She heard the mantle clock downstairs chime each quarter-hour, and sometime after she heard the ringing tones indicating the hour of one, she drifted off.

Phee awoke the next morning with small portions of her dreams lingering a moment. People she had met at one time or another—or maybe they were complete strangers—paraded in and out of the parlor to speak with her. Sometimes, either she or one of her guests played the piano. She could not remember anything else, but it got her to remembering a time when Aunt Eugenia still occupied a chamber upstairs.

The realization that Phee had once been sought after as one who deftly entertained her guests brought a lump to her throat. She was sixteen when male guests began being admitted to the room at the front of the house, and she received her first marriage proposal.

Phee was relieved her father declined to give permission to marry each time someone asked; she was not ready. By the time she thought she might be ready, she was twenty-two and Miss Eugenia was occupying the rooms downstairs. Mr. Berry imposed upon his daughter the idea she should help care for her great-aunt, even though Miss Martin was capable of doing so during the hours Mr. Berry was away working.

Phee had been particularly close to Miss Eugenia all of her life. She could not remember a time when her elder relative was anywhere else, nor could she remember going more than day without seeing her grand-aunt.

By the time she was twenty-four, no one sought Miss Ophelia’s company, much less asked for her hand. She had become a recluse, the kind of eccentric old maid she poked fun at when she was sixteen.

For her part, Miss Eugenia had begun realizing that Phee’s role as her primary companion had great cost. That is the point she decided to nudge her grandniece toward socializing, and her nephew toward ensuring such happened. Actually, she thought, her nephew could use a companion, too.

Phee appeared in Miss Eugenia’s parlor chamber at ten in the morning, later than usual.

“Good morning, Auntie. As you can hear, my voice is a bit rough today. But I shall help myself to your pot of tea and hope for the best.”

“Ophelia, you must be feeling ill. You rarely complain, at least not about your health. Are you up to reading aloud? For if not, you should sit here in my wingchair and just read. We can talk about it later.”

Phee paused mid-pour and set her cup down. The older lady’s offer was rare. And unusual.

“You see, Ophelia, I have a mind today to venture outside of these rooms. I have a cane, and I should at least explore around the lower floor here. Maybe even to the kitchen.”

Phee plunked down into the wingchair, all too grateful for the offer of a comfortable place to read. And do it alone! She could not help but clap her hands and break into a broad grin.

“Auntie, I am thrilled beyond measure! Maybe later you can let me know your inspiration, because I certainly do not desire to impede your little journey. Now, be careful!”

With that, Miss Eugenia slowly ambled through her chamber door in search of adventure a few feet—or more—away. Phee took up the volume after sipping a little from her half-filled cup, and began where she had left off.

The sound of boots interrupted us. Judge Black walked through the dining-room door. He appeared surprised to discover me at the table with the chief. Speaking to the latter, he said, “I received your note while in Mobile. I came as soon as I could secure transportation.”

He turned to me. “Pardon me, Miss…”

“Jones, your Honor. I am staying as a companion to your daughter at her request. We met at the tavern.”

I felt the added explanation was necessary given the disapproving look he gave me.

“No need for the title, Miss Jones, Mr. Black will do.”

Chief Half-Moon finally spoke.

“I imagine you are hungry, sir. Please have a seat, and we shall have food for you soon.”

His father-in-law remained standing, however. “I wish to see my daughter. At once, if I might. Your note was alarming.”

The pair exited the room. I heard their footsteps as they journeyed to Zora’s chamber. Once there, I debated whether I would follow, as I wanted to listen to the conversation. The judge is excitable, and it concerned me he would disturb his daughter’s rest. And her peace.

I instead went outside and walked the perimeter of the inner yard. They kept the grass short by the trampling of horses and humans. Beyond the inner fence, tall weeds and crops prevented easy strolling except on the lane.

The front door opened as I turned the corner away from it. I heard the two men’s voices, the judge’s clearly, but the chief was inaudible.

“I am grateful you sent for me, I say yet again. But what I cannot forgive is you endangered her life!”

The response was indistinct. I remained just around the corner, transfixed.

“The doctor warned you! You put her in danger having touched her after the last child, and I suppose you continue to… to be with her!”

My mouth dropped open in astonishment. I overheard the physician warn the chief. Yet, I cannot believe he was anything but tender to his bride once informed of the risks.

The chief talked in low tones again, this time for several minutes, and as I did not hear interruptions, the judge must have calmed.

Then, “All right. Thank you. I wish to stay awhile and remaining here would be optimal.” He was silent for a moment. Then, “I apologize. This is upsetting, and I am weary. And hungry. Perhaps sustenance is indeed in order.” The two men re-entered the house as the door shut behind them.