Chapter One, Episode 41 - What If? - Situationally Theirs

June 15, 2020
Review, Edit and Update:
This whole process of editing has really made me appreciate all the copy editors and editors out there that review the many books I have read. I can read, re-read and re-read again and still find issues. Today it's mostly been about punctuation - either too much or not enough. I also appreciate all my readers, who have kept on with me despite my many word crafting lapses. 

What If?

“Mom, why are you crying? And don’t tell me it’s allergies. I know the difference with you. So. You have been crying, haven’t you.”

“Maybe a little bit, but once the tears are flowing I get all congested and drippy, like allergies.” Martha, the Housekeeper at the Beaufort estate, had been over to the estate in the morning. Cheerful and happy, she told her daughter she wouldn’t be long. They kept their video chats open in order to maintain contact, and when Martha went out she would let Joanie know.

Joanie, Martha’s daughter, and Martha were having their afternoon tea over video chat. Martha didn’t know what she would have done if she did not have these afternoon chats. Her grandchildren put their beautiful faces up to the screen sideways, made silly faces then ‘Grandma, we have to go play now! Bye! We love you!’ Ben and Abby disappeared from the screen, off to their play room. Abby ran back and blew her grandma a big kiss, spun around and ran after her big brother Ben.

“Joanie, you always could see right through me even when you were little Ben’s age. To tell the truth, I don’t know what I’m crying about. Everything was fine until I went into that big empty kitchen. No minestrone soup bubbling. Cook not in the kitchen singing off key. The delicious aroma of bread baking missing. James’ office door seemed almost sealed shut. At least I had the children’s pictures and little finger-paint hand prints on my door. I just all of a sudden felt like I had a stone in my heart.”

Oh mom. It’s all this social distancing and isolation. I have the kids here with me everyday and if I could transport one or both of them over to you sometimes, I would. You’ve been so strong and patient through all of this. Are you sure that’s all that’s bothering you. Just the emptiness of it all?”

“I think so. Joanie, I’ll be fine. Just being a silly old woman. Of course, an empty kitchen isn’t something to cry over. Cook will soon be back at her big stove stirring a bit pot of soup or kneading dough for a big batch of cinnamon buns.” Martha starts to cry again. 

”Mom, what is it this time?”

“Nothing, dear. I guess I wasn’t finished with my tears.” Martha fiercely wiped her eyes the back of one hand. “There. See. I’m all dry now.” She brushed back her hair and sat up just a little too straight. “Now. Let me go put the kettle on. I think a I’d like another cup of tea. That other in the tea pot has been sitting too long and is not nice anymore. “ As she walked away from the computer, the dam burst again. All Joanie could hear was ‘Stop it! Just stop it!’ Then unintelligible muttering. All that Joanie could make out was something about ‘James’.

“There now, I’m ready to visit again. Are you out of cookies, because I am. Now that we can go out a bit to the store, I must buy a small bag of those good chocolate chip ones.”

Joanie sat back in her chair, smiling and listening to her mother carry on about cookies. She knew that she always had cookies for her children. “Mom, what are you not telling me. I heard you say something about James. Is that James the butler? What’s going on mom?”

“Oh that. That was nothing. I just saw James when I was leaving to come home. He was waiting to see Giles. He needed to know where the butter was. That’s all there was to that. I think Miss Dez, Miss Emelina’s sister, was out at the orchard.”

“Mom. Stop. You’re babbling. You always babble  when you’re nervous about something.”

“Well, Joanie. You don’t have to know everything.” Martha snapped at her daughter, unable to move the conversation to safer ground. 

“OK. I’ll tell you then. I just finished baking four dozen cookies yesterday, I’ve saved one dozen for you. So you won't have to buy cookies and if you come over here, I’ll put them on the front step. When can you come over?”

“Let me see. Right after we’re finished with our visit?”

Joanie was still smiling “And will you share them with James?”

“Joanie, stop it. I don’t even know if he likes chocolate chip cookies.”

“Of course you don’t know, mom, but to find out you just need to ask him. You know, talk to him. Outside of work, he’s not your supervisor. He’s just a good-looking man - those are your words.And you two are friends, aren’t you?”

“How on earth can I call him a friend? Yes, we are are friendly and he is very good looking but beyond that, he’s just the Butler and I’m just the Housekeeper. We were told when we were hired that there was to be no fraternization. Old Mrs. Beaufort’s strict words.”

“And no one has changed that little rule? But aside from that, here’s a ‘what if’ mom. What if he were to ask you out for a date? It wouldn’t be fancy because all the restaurants and the dancehall is closed. So what if he did anyway? Ask you out for a date? Maybe a walk?

“Why I don’t know what I would do or say. It would certainly take me by surprise. We have known each other for so long and he has never, ever even hinted that he would do such a thing. Oh, if we could only go dancing. I don’t even know if he dances.” Martha had a wistful far away look in her eyes at the thought of that handsome man holding her in he is arms while they waltzed away an evening under the stars. “I think I know what my answer would be, Joanie.”

“It’s fun to think of the what-if. Scary, but fun. It’s like, I thought this door 

was closed before, but here it is open just the tiniest crack. What if?”

~ Jenny Han, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before

Chapter One, Episode 40 - "All the Words' - Situationally Theirs

June 15, 2020

Review, Edit and Update

As skilled as James Digby is at his job as butler, he is as unskilled at even recognizing emotion. ‘All the Words’ brushes away his professional persona and reveals another side of this quiet man.

Sentence structure has been improved as well as punctuation removed and/or added. I took out one or two words that were missed on the original posting.

'All the Words'

James Edward Digby had arrived at the Beaufort mansion at 8:30am. Dezperanza Eliot, sister to Emelina Beaufort, was another early arrival and was expecting Matt Fraser, a local orchardist. She had gone out to the orchard, no matter that grey skies threatened to keep watering grass and trees. Digby continued on through the mudroom and into the very roomy kitchen. He was very familiar with all the workings of this usually busy kitchen. Covid19 had scattered everyone to their homes, making this kitchen seem almost hollow with Martha and Cook’s presence missing. Giles Thornton, the chauffeur had promised to meet him here at 9a.m. for coffee, a cinnamon bun and to give Digby some advice. Digby did not know anything about affairs of the heart. He had turned to Giles for advice. Giles was really Digby’s only friend. A friend he trusted. 

James set about making coffee, put cinnamon buns in the toaster oven to warm and set out mugs, plates and napkins for both of them. While reaching in the cupboard for the plates, Digby stopped and listened. He thought he heard a gentle sob but there was only silence. He set the plates on the table, he heard the same sob. He looked up. The door to Martha Haverstock’s room opened then closed quietly. Martha was the Beaufort Estate Housekeeper. A hold over position from old Mrs. Beaufort’s attempt to maintain a Downstairs staff. "Martha. Is that you?" Silence "Mrs. Beaufort? Are you here?"

“No James, it's me. Martha.” Her voice was quiet, her tone almost muffled. She forced a smile. “Did you hear me sniffling away? These allergies are so bothersome at this time of year. I won’t disturb you. I see you have two mugs out.” Martha had seen the mugs when she opened the door and saw Digby.

“Yes, I’m expecting Giles this morning. We need to discuss an important issue.” James felt quite uncomfortable, as though he had been caught doing something wrong.

“Oh, that’s good. Is it about our returning to work?” Martha was also feeling quite awkward. She searched around for something to say.

“Well, we do need to discuss whether we still need all three vehicles. As Giles is the one to drive and service them, I thought he would be the best one for advice.” This was not at all the issue that needed Giles input. Digby moved the mugs from the table to beside the coffee machine and then back again. “Of course, Mrs. Beaufort will have the final say, but I want Giles to give me his input on that issue.” James had run out of words, felt he had more that need saying, but didn’t know what. So he rearranged the two plates on the table, picked them up and put them beside the toaster oven. “Do you know which cupboard the butter is in, or is it in the refrigerator?”

“It should be in the refrigerator, James. Because no one is here very often. It might go rancid if it’s left out.” Martha didn’t know why she was babbling on so. “Well, I’m just going to slip out the back door and take my sniffly nose home. I just needed to drop off some things. And James, don’t forget to put the butter away in the refrigerator.”

“Take care of yourself, Martha. I do hope you feel better.” James and Martha, almost fearful, maintained a great distance from each other. 

~~~~~

Giles Thornton, chauffeur for the Beaufort Estate, whistled tunelessly as he drove out to the country. He didn’t really think much of the pretence at grandeur at his place of employ. However, he let that all slip by, because he was employed. His job? Drive his boss wherever she wanted to go in which ever car. Make sure all three vehicles were in good running order and clean. Be cheerful and pleasant. Cheerful and pleasant was the way Giles had been since birth. He really didn’t know what James wanted his advice on, but he was certain it had to do with Martha. He and Digby had shared many things over the years, most often family events with his sons. James Digby was almost like an uncle to them. That was often when the professional mask James wore was put carefully in his back pocket. He was like a different man with the boys.

There was one other time when Giles had seen real emotion from James. Martha had been present as well. It was a sad event, the funeral of James’ only brother. That day was especially hard for him. Giles stopped whistling as he remembered that day. Digby looked like a crumpled old man as he stood at his brother’s grave site. This was a situation that, for James, all the diplomacy and correctness would not help him. Digby stood still, in his black wool topcoat, a navy scarf tucked neatly around his neck. He was hatless, an errant breeze dared to ruffle his hair. Digby would not allow himself to cry. His jaw was set as though in stone. Giles had never seen him look so tortured. He wanted to just put his hand on James’ shoulder in comfort, but felt a firm barrier that protected Digby from any form of human contact. Except when Martha had come to him. She patted his chest over his heart. “It will be all right, James. Not today. But it will be all right.” Digby’s jaw softened almost imperceptibly, he took his clenched hands out of his coat pockets. “Thank you, Martha”  His face closed again. “Giles, take James home. Get him something stronger than a cup of tea. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.” Martha was pleased to know that Digby had a friend in Giles, not just a driver. Martha dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief, already damp with tears. 

~~~~

Giles drove his Honda CRV around the mansion to the back. Just as he stepped on the ground, he heard the back door close. Looking up, he saw Martha. She looked like she’d been crying. “Are you all right, Martha”

“It’s just allergies, Giles. James is in there waiting for you. I think the coffee is ready.” Martha brushed by Giles almost pushing him aside. “Ok Martha. Thanks. You sure you’re ok?”

“Yes Giles. You just go on in there. James is waiting for you.”

~~~~~

“James, what did you do to Martha? She was crying when she came out the door.” Giles had a grin on his face. He knew James would never hurt Martha, but he just couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

“I did nothing. She was already upset by something else. She wouldn’t tell me what it was. It was really quite awkward, Giles. That’s really ….. well, I mean, ……she is something…… there is something about her that, well, disturbs me. I don’t seem to know what to say to her, unless we are working. What do you suppose is wrong with me?”

Giles desperately wanted to burst out laughing, but could tell that James Edward Digby has met his match. This was definitely no laughing matter. “Well, James. I think that, how should I put this….I think that you’re in love with Martha. I also think that you might be frightened feeling this way and right now, you’ve filled my mug and it’s running all over the table.” Giles jumped up, grabbed a roll of paper towels and began mopping it all up. James looked stunned. He sat down abruptly, the now empty coffee pot still in his hand. “I suppose I should make more coffee, Giles?”

Once the mess had been wiped up and another pot of coffee on, the two men stepped out on the back porch. “You really think that is my problem, Giles?”

“James, it’s not a problem. Your problem might be you. Martha is not a problem to be fixed. How you feel about her is not a problem to be fixed. What you want to do about how you feel about Martha as a woman, not the Housekeeper, is maybe the issue. Not a problem. An issue”

“Giles, I just don’t know what to do. How to talk. What will people say?”

Their conversation continued in the kitchen for most of the morning. Giles was not sure that James had yet grasped that he didn’t have to do or be something special. Because of this social distancing and closed restaurants, a dinner date was out of the question. “James, I have to be back at the house to relieve Melanie. She’s been entertaining our sons while I’ve been out here with you. She has a class to teach over Zoom this afternoon. She needs time for her lunch and a little relax. Give a picnic some thought. I’ll give some thought to how to help you out. Martha is a good person and she cares for you. You will be ok.”

“…I gave you painted air - tears I couldn’t weep - truths I couldn’t speak

 - all the words that caught in my throat….”

~ John Geddes, A Familiar Rain

Chapter One, Episode 39 - Just Friends - Situationally Theirs

June 14, 2020

Review, Edit and Update

Even in this bit of fluff, there were typos, errors of punctuation, with the addition of a bit of detail.

Just Friends

The thwap thwap of windshield wipers matched the gravelly wet tire noise on the road. Dez was swearing under her breath. She had promised herself that she would clean up her vocabulary, but this rainy day was not making it easy. Her plan for the morning was to meet Matt at the estate so they could go out to find the best spot in the orchard for the beehives they planned to order. Matt, an orchardist and bee keeper, was to be Dez and Emelina’s teacher on beekeeping. Unless Matt didn’t mind getting soaking wet, today would be a write off. Dez had pulled her little car up to the extended back porch and turned the motor off. The windshield wipers went still and quiet. Water dribbled down from the car roof, down the windshield and drained away over the cars hood. Someone was at the back door of Emmie’s house trying to get in, but Dez didn’t think it was Matt. Can’t be Matt. His hair’s too short.

“Digby?” Dez had not met Digby in person, but thought it may be the butler. Emmie had frequently spoken of him when the two sisters were getting reacquainted. Estranged for over ten years, yet living within a few miles of each other, they had a lot of catching up to do. The circumstances were incredibly awkward. Emmie had suddenly lost all her house staff and Dez had been in jail. The sergeant at the jail had located Emmie in the wee hours of one morning, and asked that she pick up her sister. Emmie, woken from a sound sleep, managed to drive one of the estate vehicles to pick her sister up in Hartley. Now they were as close as they had been as teenagers.

“Good morning Miss Desperanza. This is a surprise. I was expecting Giles, the chauffeur. Have you come to see your sister? I arrived just a few minutes before you arrived. I have yet to get into the house, so I really don’t know where she is right now.”

“No, I don’t need to see her. I was going out to the orchard, but this rain may have kiboshed my plans. I'm wearing my rain gear, so if this rain lets up a bit, I may be able to get out there at least for a little. I need to figure out where to put our bee hives. They haven’t been ordered yet. There is so much more to learn than just plunking them down and letting the bees do the work. Matt, the fellow that is helping me with this project, is coming by. He has a much larger orchard several miles from here and has had beehives in his orchard for many years. If he comes by and asks for me, could you point him in the direction of the orchard?”

“Certainly Miss. Do you know what kind of vehicle he drives?”

“I’m not certain, but I did see an old Ford pickup in his yard. Don’t know if that's the one he’ll be driving.” She knew what vehicle he would be driving, but didn't want to sound too familiar. Dez had known Matt for several years, and had watched him with his bees. Swathed in coveralls, gloves, a big hat with netting was he was doing what beekeepers do. Smoking the hives, collecting honey, maybe fixing the older hives. Very soon, Dez would be coming to his apiary for some hands on experience and work with his bees. Dez was quite excited. She had worked many jobs, but the closest she came to beekeeping was tree planting. Very different, but both in the sunshine and fresh air - and rain. 

~~~~~

Matt and Dez had become close friends over the eight years they had known each other. Matt had been happily married at one time, with one son, so the two of them were ‘just friends’. As Matt’s marriage and then divorce became more and more turbulent, Dez stayed away from the orchard. Then, one night, quite unexpectedly, Matt showed up at her apartment building. On any other late night, if someone buzzed to be allowed into the apartment, Dez just pulled her blanket over her head and turned up the TV. This particular night, unable to sleep, she was up at her living room window, TV off. About to turn away, she saw the old green Ford park crookedly across the street in front of her building. Is that Matt? What is he doing here at this time of night? The intercom buzzer sounded too loud and insistent. “Matt? Come in. My apartment is 802.” Dez stepped out in the hall and waited for him. His eyes red rimmed and swollen, his curly hair, normally tied in a man-bun, was loose and unruly and he looked like he hadn’t showered for days.

“Matt! What’s wrong!? Did your wife finally leave and take your son?” 

Matt's face looked like a mask. Stiff, shiny hard plastic. “I have to talk to you Dez. I know you think I’m a pathetic mess, but you’re the only one who will listen to me.”

Here we go, thought Dez. He’s doing the poor me thing that he’s been practicing for years. I should never have let him in. No wonder his wife left him. I’ll let him get cleaned up, give him a cup of coffee and send him on his way. 

“Come in. I’m going to make us some coffee. You go into the bathroom and clean yourself up. The bathroom is just down the hall, first door on the right, towels in the cupboard over the toilet. We’re not talking 'til you clean up, Matt. You’ve got to pull yourself together.” Dez turned him around and gave him a push towards the bathroom. She went into the kitchen, mad at herself for letting the guy in. Feeling sorry for him because she knew he had an orchard to run, his marriage had completely fallen apart, and his young son was possibly out of his life. Dez heard the shower running for what seemed like a long time. She poured herself a cup of coffee and, at the kitchen table, was half reading a book waiting for Matt. 

“Can we talk now, Dez? Sorry I couldn’t shave.” Dez looked up. The three day growth of beard only make him more handsome. Her heart flipped. His clothes still looked like they should have been in the shower with him. Now they were as neat as he could make them. Dez was almost disappointed that he had put his shirt back on. She had seen him working in the orchard without it. 

“Yes. Sure. Let me get you some coffee.” Dez was flustered. She had to do something and stop looking at him. She had to remember that he was in a bad way. Her hand shaking, she almost spilled the hot coffee on him. “Come. Sit down at the table.”

~~~~

Dez and Matt talked til it was almost dawn. Matt got up. He rinsed out his coffee cup, and set it upside down in the sink. He said he should go and thanked Dez for letting him in. “I’m glad that you trusted me to come here, Matt. Why don’t I make us some breakfast? Unless you have to get home?” Matt turned from the sink, leaned back on the counter, smiled “I think that’s a good idea, Dez. Unless you have to be somewhere.” 

“It’s the friends you can call up at 4 a.m. that matter.”

~ Marlene Dietrich