One
The morning was blithe, with fair blue spreading across the sky. Giant white clouds resembled great swans floating over it and fro while yellowish golden sun shone magnificently, making the whole panoramic view looked as if it was portrayed into oil-painting.
On an old couch in the attic, lied Flannery Harris, a plain-looking maiden with her eyes closed and her hand gently on her forehead, facing herself right toward the sun through a small cloudy windowpane on top of the roof. The exquisite light from the bright morning sun shone through the window, reflected and landed on Flannery's face, making her eyes uncomfortably shut. Instead of looking ashen, the sun had made her pale figure incredibly stunning that morning. She's been lying in there since dawn, locked in a book and eventually fell asleep. Suddenly she heard the bell tinkled, signing the breakfast was ready. Flannery hurried downstairs, heading to the kitchen.
Their house was adequate, small, situated far at the end of Goodwill Village. There were no immediate neighborhood surround their isolated home. Flannery's room was on the second floor, sharing it with her sisters. The room led to a flight of stairs up to the attic, her favorite place in the house. Bounded by thin, soft and vulnerable wooden-wall, was Victoria’s room.
“This looks good, Victoria,” Flannery said, brightly looking at two white plates of golden French toast. Amidst in poverty for such a long time and enduring many hardships after her father's died several years ago, they've been depending on such a plain meal, nothing extravagant -French toast and hot tea for that always been the family, their norm.
“As usual, my dear,” Victoria smiled luminously as she preparing the table. Victoria was Flannery's stepmother. She'd been taking care of both Flannery and her younger sister, Edith with much love and care. But Flannery ought not to call her Mother because she knew all in her life that nothing could ever replace her beloved, deceased mother. Victoria was simply exquisite with light and long, wavy auburn hair – neatly brushed, has a blank complexion which overtook her age, though she was thirty-two but looking extraordinarily young.
The table is set. The aromas of toast and tea have filled throughout the still air in the kitchen. Flannery’s stomach was making a grumbled noise and signing Victoria that she could no longer wait. Just then, down came Dianne, still in her bleached-grey nightgown, messy hair and pair of swollen eyes. With heavy steps, she walked toward the kitchen table and sat. “My, what had gotten into you last night, Dianne? You looked pasty,” Victoria exclaimed, touching her daughter’s pale, almond shaped face. Dianne, who barely opened her eyes, drowsily said, “I’m perfectly alright.”
Edith, lively and merrily hummed to her favorite tune, came tumbling to the kitchen.
“What’s with the white?” Victoria asked, particularly looking weird at her —dressed in white, from hat, gloves to socks. Edith, who stood very straight at the edge of the table looking the other three proudly, while switching her scarlet lips into a bright smile and opened eyes, said “I am going to a picnic. Would you like to come along?” Flannery picked the best toast she had saved for the last to be thrown inside her mouth, directly said, “No. I’m helping Victoria set up for dinner tonight. I have to shop a bit at the village.”
“Oh, I’m sure Victoria wouldn’t mind not having you to help her. Right, Victor?” Edith exclaimed confidently. She surely was comfortable enough to address Victoria as Victor since both of them have been very close. Victoria turned herself, finding Edith was asking her. “Of course. Go and have some fun, Flannery. I’ll be fine setting up for dinner alone,” she said, humble. Edith gave Flannery a pity look, yet deliberately forcing her to go which eventually Flannery gave in. Victoria realized her daughter, still in half-awake, sat quietly, eating her toast. ”What about you, Dianne?” she asked. Dianne looked up, searching for her mother’s smile and replied, “Sure, I’ll come along.”
After getting dressed up —all in white, they went outside. The morning had turned to afternoon sun, but the weather was still cold and breezy. “Is that Mother’s you are wearing, Flan?” Edith said, looking rather astonished at Flannery’s white satin-lace dress, their late Mother’s most finest and decent clothes. “This is the only white dress I’ve ever got,” Flannery said, solemnly. She has made her mind not to wear the dress unless in formal occasion, but Edith had insisted on wearing white for the picnic, though it wasn’t that formal.
“I still don’t understand why we have to wear in white?” It was Dianne, looking very troubled and cautious over her lace-less cotton white night dress.
“Yes and we might get ourselves in dirt, in case if do not realize we are going to a picnic,” Flannery added. Edith held up an invitation card. The card was in soft pink and smelled very nice —bluebells and piped up, “This card says we have to wear something in common as we came from one family and I chose white!” Both Dianne and Flannery shrugged and nodded in forced agreement. Although they both were older than dear fifteen-year-old Edith, but she could make the world stood before her.
Two
Victoria was finished dusting the drawing room across the small, cozy living room. The family had been dragged into a genteel poverty after Mr Harris’s lost. Everything inside the house was undeniably cheap, rusted and aged. Daniel Stuart just got back from Alfred’s Barn or Al’s Barn, a fancy restaurant in the village he worked for. Daniel has lived with the family ever since he was a little boy —his mother used to be the family’s maid when they could afford one, and when she died he had nowhere to go. He grew up into a fine and diligent young man with bristle, soft jet-black hair above his head. He’s twenty-one now, very fair and noble-looking and often liable himself as a humble servant for the family —continuing his mother’s legacy.
“Oh, it’s good to see you here, Daniel. Would you please help me buying something for dinner tonight?” Victoria said, but as soon as she faced Daniel with sweats dripped from his forehead and his heavy breathe, she changed her mind, “Never mind. You better have a good rest, dear.” Daniel was looking rather tired but never in his heart wanting to disappoint her mistress, “It’s alright Mrs Harris, I sure can,” and continued, “Where’s the girls?” noticing the house was unusual quiet and empty. Victoria turned to Daniel and passed him a groceries list while saying, “They went to a picnic at the Phillips in Rosemont, and perhaps won’t be back for dinner. My Daniel, you would have laughed watching the three of them all in white.”
The walk to Rosemont Village took about twenty-minute from Goodwill. Though, the Harris sisters thought the walk seemed like a lifetime. Under the bright and scorching afternoon sun, Dianne was looking struggled with her white dress and high French heels. Flannery, being a mute along the way was walking very, very slow. On the other hand, Edith confidently embraced, rather faster than other, as if she was going to look perfect and dainty all day. “Can’t both of you move faster? We’re going to be late!” Edith stormed and deliberately grabbed her sisters by hands and ran across the lush, green meadows.
The Phillips’ manor situated in Rosemont, the land of landlords, riches and masters. The picnic is held outside the manor, in the garden. The manor has been inherited by many generations and now it belongs to Aiden Phillips, the young heir of greats Phillips. The huge, exquisite red-brick and peculiar-looking manor hold many secrets and temptation memories that one would die revealing. Outside the manor, is the garden —speechlessly outstanding. Trimmed hedges, flowery bushes and lined daffodils and daisies along the garden, could overwhelm any soul that crossed. Also, the garden is amazingly designed and some huge and opulent water fountains are beautifully surrounded the garden like street lamps by the roadside. Tables and chairs, all in white and tents and snack tables, all decorated, embellished in pretty laces, which happen to be in white.
“My goodness Ed, look at that! The picnic was all in white! I couldn’t bear to go in there and have ourselves looked like chairs and tables,” Dianne screamed out, as they had reached the front entrance. Flannery was astonished, as the world has come to an end. Of course she wouldn’t want to drown in shame. Edith was flabbergasted. Perhaps wearing white wasn’t an idea at all, she thought. Since everything was first time —the dress, the picnic, the walk to Rosemont, they wanted to be in a complete perfection.
“We shall not take off our coats,” Flannery said. It was simply an acceptable thought in such times as their coats were in colors, Dianne’s was in red, Flannery’s was blue and Edith was in her light peach. “Good idea, Flan.” Edith smiled, relieved. Feeling anxious with pride, they walked slowly for the entrance. “Ladies, can I have your coats?” courteously asked the high-waist, elderly butler. Dianne, with trembling figure, mustered her courage and politely said, “Only the hats. We can keep the coats ourselves. Very much thank you, sir.” The butler narrowed his eyes, looking down queerly at the small girls and bowed welcomingly.
Merrily music was playing, cakes and snacks were filling and people were dancing. The three of them looked very stiff, awkwardly watching such a fancy picnic party that they barely move from the ground they were standing. The Harris girls were never, in their life, have been invited to such an event. It was beyond their inexplicable imaginations. “Alright girls, lets have fun,” Dianne smiled and vanished immediately into the crowd of people dancing. “Be back by seven!” Flannery shouted at her, unsure she was able to hear it and glanced at Edith, beside her, “What about you, Ed?”
Edith seemed lost like she was in somewhere else. She’d been stood there, even longer than Flannery or Dianne and had not yet made up her mind to move a limb. It’s like she’s been possessed. Flannery grabbed her shoulders and shook the small, frail figure of her sister until her soul found its body. “Ed, Edith!”
Edith awoke and caught her breath. She was white as sheet, drowning in sweat. I must be dreaming, she said in her mind, realizing she was still at the picnic. “Are you alright, Flan?” Edith asked, looking at Flannery. Flannery was agitated, “Supposedly I am to question you that. What happened to you? Do you want to go home now?” and tenderly touched Edith’s forehead to her pale neck and dried her wet hands with her handkerchief. The last thing Edith would do right before she die was lying on her aged bed, mourning for juicy, roasted turkey and breathing lightly. Being at the picnic, she’s going to make every second counted. “I will not going miss the fun here, Flannery. I shall not.” She held tightly Flannery’s arm and dragged her to join the dance, “Come on!” she shouted.
At the corner of the garden, near one of the water fountains, stood Aiden and his American best friend, Scott Willis. They were having good times, sipping fruit punch and watching lovely ladies from afar. “That lady looks sweet,” Scott said, pointing to a tall, thin woman, perhaps in her middle-aged, with shining black hair, neatly tight into a high bun. “She looks like my mother, Scott.” Aiden laughed, realizing Scott was pulling his leg. Aiden Phillips is something that you’ve read in fairytales about most Princes. Rich, handsome, dapper, pleasant and reserved. But he sure has his weak point, which happens to be confronting a girl.
“How about that one?” Scott glanced to his right side, finding a fair, dark brown-haired young woman in red coat, stood about twenty-feet away from them. She bent down, brushing her white dress that had gotten into dirt and when she lifted up her head, only to find out she was Dianne. Aiden was merely astonished and speechless for her flawless, pale figure. “Good eye, Scott. Good eye,” he smiled, patting his friend’s broad shoulder.
Three
How serene and calm the view of the meadow looked in the late afternoon light. Though the sky wasn’t as bright as ever, but the glimpse of the sun behind the clouds had cherished the whole afternoon. Dianne was amazed, standing by the wooden fence near her home and looking up at the flock of robin birds flying throughout the sky, down to the area of grassland. The wind came and blew harshly making her silky, dark brown hair brushed softly against her cheek. She was simply beautiful, taken from her young mother. Her demeanor was appealing. But she didn’t seem to realize that. She never aware of her very own de luxe.
Amidst feeling in awe and joy of the view, she looked down and underwhelming. She’s fairly nineteen now, but can’t see such an age will take her somewhere. She thinks a lot, deluging herself in tremendous thoughts. Is this the end of my life? Why I feel so empty?Dianne has an enormous wanderlust. But somehow her impecunious family can never fulfill her wish even to her last breath.
Suddenly a soft voice came before her. “Hello, Dianne.” It was Miss Meyerhoff, the village librarian. Dianne swiftly turned herself to greet, “Miss Meyerhoff! It’s been a long time.” Miss Meyerhoff curved a smile on her pale, pink lips. “Yes, it is,” she replied and continued, “I have a lot of books for you girls. Please walk me to your house.” Dianne took her arm in Miss Meyerhoff’s and down they walked home.
Miss Meyerhoff is a timid twenty-three years old. She has a soft grey, twinkling pair of eyes, very passionate and firm, enjoys reading as much as Flannery does. She will sometimes turn herself into art and sing. She also the one who believes in you’re going nowhere with hope —unless with desirably effort. All in her life, she’s been living under both wisdom and exactitude.
They reached the back door and went inside. Edith, the first one who saw her from the kitchen, happily shouted, “Miss Meyerhoff! It’s good to see you here,” and hugged her. Miss Meyerhoff settled herself on the torn sofa in the living room. Later, Dianne came and bought in hot tea and chocolate chip butter cookies. Miss Meyerhoff thanked her for the lovely tea and biscuits. “It’s really nothing, Miss Meyerhoff,” Dianne replied.
Edith enjoyed kneeling in front of Miss Meyerhoff, touching her delicate hands and anticipating good stories from her whenever she came. Miss Meyerhoff nodded and continued with the one she had stopped on her last visit. She’s an excellent storyteller —fingers running through the air, gesturing the stories enthusiastically and making it seemed alive. But her voice dwindled away in the middle when her eyes caught on Daniel. He looked like he just fought in mud, scrapping dirt and drowned in the lake.
“What had gotten to you, Daniel? Edith asked. He seemed puzzled and observed himself from the upper to the bottom and deliberately said, “I just finished cleaning the bird cage.” Dianne grabbed a towel that hung on a stool in the kitchen and gave it to Daniel. “You don’t look like you’re cleaning the cage to me. It looks like you just had a fight with a mad cow in dirt,” she laughed. He smiled watching the sisters laughed and eventually stopped. “Oh, Miss Meyerhoff,” he said, dumfounded. He never expected she would come in the late afternoon. “Hello, Daniel,” she said diffidently as the words just slide through her teeth.
There was a long silence and Flannery came down from her room, broke the silence, “Miss Meyerhoff, please, please tell me you brought some books.” Miss Meyerhoff exchanged her gaze from Daniel to Flannery who held her hands really tight that she wanted to let go. It’s not everyday she could meet him. She had been secretly stored an enormous affection over the young, fair man since their first met, when Mr. Harris was still alive.
“Miss Meyerhoff!” Flannery called out again, almost shouting.
“Oh, yes. I did. I did bring some books for you and your sisters,” she replied. Just then, Daniel went out through the kitchen door and eventually lost from her sight.
*
Aiden sat at the parlour, constantly gazing up at the sky —the breathtaking view from his manor. However, his mind didn’t draw to the ocean blue sky and fresh air instead, but drowning in the thought of the young woman in red coat he saw last time during the picnic party. Who is she? He often thought. But he did know one thing : the woman he saw was fairly not one of any other typical women that he ever met, of course beside his Mother and her lissom sister. The way she brushed her long, white dress from dirt in crowds concluded she didn’t embarrass to introduce her true self. She absolutely not the one who bother about look or clothes, not a pretender, very austere and simply beautiful.
“What were you thinking?” Patricia said, coming ahead from her gardening hours. Aiden startled. He faced his sister and smiled ebulliently. They shared the same small, dark blue-sky eyes. “How’s the flower in the garden, Patty?” he asked. Patricia threw him a queer look and deliberately narrowing her eyes. She knew he wasn’t listening. “I asked you first, Aiden. What’s in your thought that you couldn’t hear me?”
“Oh,” he looked down to his feet, embarrassing. “Nothing. I just found out the sky looked rather cheerful today.”
“It’s going to pour soon,” she said, looking at bunch of dark clouds hovering to their way. Patricia smiled, seeing her brother at lost. She knew her brother very well —always talks gibberish if something plays inside his superficial mind. “Don’t be silly. Now, tell me about the picnic. Have you met someone?” she continued teasingly as she sipped her tea.
Aiden forced himself a smile then broke into a tenuous laugh because of Patricia’s great intuition. He stopped and stared her eyes and smiled again, “Yes, I guess I have.”