Chapter 20

twenty

A sher lay across the patchwork quilt, his gangly limbs seeming to sprawl in every direction like a drunken octopus.

“Must you occupy so much space,” Coco admonished, tugging her skirt out from under his shoe and adjusting her parasol in an ever-persistent pursuit of keeping the sun from her nose.

Trudy and her family had gathered on the shore near the cottages to celebrate the arrival of her Uncle Albert, although few events could inspire less revelry. For every ninety-nine words uttered by Aunt Breezy, he uttered one, and it was usually more of a grunt than an actual word. Perhaps this was because she’d worn him down over the years and he’d simply ceased to contribute to conversations where he clearly wasn’t needed.

His input was especially unnecessary today since the Bostwick family had joined them for the picnic and therefore Breezy’s typical monologue was predictably dominating. She had no intention of letting Constance Bostwick get in the final word on any topic, regardless of how arbitrary.

“Miss Hart, there’s room over here by me,” Ellis said quietly to Coco as Asher rolled to his side in feigned slumber and flopped his arm across her ankle.

Alex’s cousin seemed determined to make amends for cheating at the scavenger hunt, and although Trudy knew Coco had not forgiven him for humiliating her in front of Mr. Plank, Ellis was the only single man within a mile-wide radius—besides her brother—and of course Alex whom she had not spoken a single word to since that night at the dance weeks prior. Ellis was Coco’s only option if she was of a mind to flirt—and she was always of a mind to flirt.

She scooched a few inches closer to him, and he responded by handing her a strawberry from the basket of delectable food Mrs. Culpepper had provided for their meal.

“Have I mentioned that you look berry pretty today, Miss Hart?” he murmured, and Trudy turned her face away to hide her chuckle.

“Perhaps he’s redeemable, after all,” she whispered to Alex who was sitting on the blanket behind her. He scoffed good-naturedly in response.

“Perhaps. But doubtful.”

A few days after the cheating incident, Ellis had gone to Mr. Plank of his own accord and apologized profusely, even asking if he might spend some time as a porter to demonstrate his profound regret (according to Alex who had heard it directly from Hugo. ) True to his good nature, Mr. Plank graciously accepted the olive branch while Alex had shared with Trudy he was less inclined to do so, at least until he was certain his cousin’s remorse was genuine.

“Get up, lazy slug,” Finn said a few minutes later, nudging Asher with his foot. “Let’s go wading.”

Asher let out a false snore.

“I’ll go with you,” Daisy said, hopping up.

“How do you intend to wade?” her mother asked. “You’ll get your shoes and stockings wet.”

“Not if I remove them,” Daisy answered cheekily. “We’ll be moving into the cottage soon so it’s as if I’m in my own yard.”

Trudy sensed the original Mrs. Bostwick wanted to argue but thought better of it. If Daisy was determined to go into the lake, she would go into the lake, no matter that showing off her bare feet would shock her mother.

“Mm, how I’d love to dip my toes into that cool water,” Jo said quietly to Chase. “But I don’t think I can manage it.”

“I think you might if I put a chair at the water’s edge. Would you like that?”

She smiled at him with gratitude. “You’re my hero. My brilliant hero.”

“You are easy to please, my love.”

Chase made short work of moving a chair, and as Jo and Daisy went into the Bostwick cottage, ostensibly to remove their stockings, Aunt Breezy commented off-handedly, “Yours is such a quaint little abode, Constance. When do you intend to move in?”

Glances darted among the rest of them as they wondered what the slur might lead to, especially since there was nothing subtle about it. Quaint little abode? Breezy may as well have called it a ramshackle hut. Or a bawdy house.

“Soon. Very soon,” Constance said, and Trudy heard Alex’s quiet chuckle near her ear.

The sound sent a shiver through her limbs. She might have considered it enticing, pleasurable even, had it not been so bloody inconvenient. Her attraction to Alexander Bostwick seemed to be growing exponentially…like bacteria. And she needed to find some way to make it stop.

“Well, I suppose that’s the advantage of filling it with mass produced furniture from Grand Rapids,” Breezy said. “Fast, convenient delivery. I myself am expecting a custom vitrine from Francois Linke to arrive from Paris any day now,”

Constance sniffed with superior disdain. “What a shame they didn’t make you a priority. My custom Linke buffet arrived weeks ago. It’s already in the dining room, and I must say, the gold ormolu handles positively gleam in the sunlight.”

Uncle Albert grunted something that Trudy couldn’t quite make out while her aunt’s peevish expression left no room for misinterpretation. She was vexed that Constance had bested her.

“Trudy, are there any more biscuits?” Poppy asked as she meandered past the quilt with the cat draped over her arm.

“More biscuits, Pop? Didn’t you already have three?” Trudy replied.

Poppy hesitated. “It’s not for me. It’s for Chester.”

“Chester shouldn’t have biscuits. They’re bad for his tummy.”

Trudy watched as Poppy’s little mind went to work.

“Did I say Chester? I meant Asher,” she replied innocently.

Asher chuckled at her response without bothering to open his eyes, and although Trudy knew she should not reward her sister for telling a fib, the day was supposed to be a celebration of sorts, so she dug a biscuit from the basket and handed it to Poppy.

“Here you go, you scamp. But this is your last one or it’s you who’ll end up with a tummy ache,” Trudy warned.

“You spoil that tot, Gertrude,” an annoyed Aunt Breezy scolded tersely from her chair. “She’ll be round as a piglet and self-indulgent to boot. Thank goodness you’ll never have children of your own.”

The mood could not have taken a frostier turn. It felt as if a tidal wave had risen from Lake Huron and doused them all with frigid waters. Even the birds seemed to hush in their singing as Trudy let out a tiny gasp of wounded surprise at her aunt’s harsh comment. But that chill was immediately overpowered by a scalding wave of embarrassment, and somehow, shame.

Lucy offered up a false chuff of laughter, as if of course Aunt Breezy was only joking.

“How funny you are, Aunt Breezy. We all know Trudy would make a wonderful mother. If she wanted to be one. It’s just her choice not to be. But if she did want to be, well, then she’d be a wonderful one.” Lucy’s stammering and repetition only made matters worse.

Trudy stared down at her lap and felt the eyes of each of them upon her.

Even Coco took pity, adding, “Yes, she would. Trudy could be a wonderful mother, but as a doctor, she takes care of far more children than she ever would if she had a family of her own to love and cherish. In fact, I don’t find it all unnatural that she’d rather be a physician instead of just a normal wife and mother. I think she’s… progressive .”

Coco said it defiantly, as if the word progressive was about the most broad-minded, intellectual thing she could have possibly uttered.

But for her sister to defend her in such a manner without a hint of her usual facetiousness made Trudy feel more pitiful than she ever had before. Both of her sisters’ comments were well intentioned and should have been a balm to Trudy’s pride, and yet every word they’d spoken had felt like a slap to her face.

Because, for all their protestations, and all their outward support, she could tell they did find her choices unnatural. And abnormal. And suddenly she was aware of just how much of an outsider she was, even to the people who loved her the most. She knew the medical community could not fully accept her because she was a woman, and yet, she realized in that moment, her own family could not fully accept her because she wasn’t woman enough.