Little Women and Me (32 page)

“
Psst
, Beth,” I said while the others talked loudly about the furnishings.

Beth turned. “What is it, Emily?” she whispered back.

“I was hoping I could talk to you about something, just the two of us. Is there another room here we might use?”

“Why don’t we step outside and get some air?” Beth suggested.

The others didn’t notice as we left the house. They were busy yakking about dishes and things.

“What is it, Emily?” Beth asked again as we sat down on the small patch of lawn, arranging our skirts around us. “This is so peculiar. No one ever wants to have a private word with me about anything.”

“I was wondering if you could bring me up to date,” I said.

“Up to date?” She was puzzled. “How do you mean?”

“I want you to tell me what’s been happening the past three years,” I said, then added, “with everybody.”

“But I don’t understand.” Now she was even more puzzled. Then she brightened. “I know!” she said. “This is another one of your games! It’s like that time when you asked me things that everyone knows just so that I might feel better about my lack of book learning.”

“A game!” I snapped my fingers. “That’s exactly it! A game. And here’s how we’ll play: I’ll ask you questions and then you answer them.”

“All right,” Beth said eagerly. “Although I do hope I know all the answers. I shouldn’t like to disappoint you with my stupidity.”

“You could never do that, Bethie,” I assured her. “Okay, first question. Pretend I’ve lost all memory of the last three years. What’s the most important thing that’s happened in that time period?”

“I can’t believe it.” Beth put her hand to her chest, closed her eyes in relief. “I thought this might be difficult, but you’re asking me easy questions. I know this one.” She opened her eyes. “It’s the war ending, right?”

Was she asking me or telling me?

And then it hit me. Wait a second. An entire
war
had gone and ended, and I’d somehow
missed
it?

“And of course you already know,” Beth went on, “that Mr. Brooke—that is to say, John—went to war for a year, was wounded, got sent home, and now he has set himself up as an under bookkeeper so that he might provide this lovely home for Meg.” Beth turned sad for a moment. “Not that I really understand what an under bookkeeper does exactly.”

“That’s okay, Bethie,” I said, recovering from my shock at a whole war ending in my absence, “I don’t either. Tell me what Papa’s been up to.” I hadn’t seen him around when I’d come to in the middle of my birthday celebration. Oh, God. I hoped he hadn’t died and that I’d just raised a sore subject for Beth that would make her even sadder.

“Papa is the minister in our small parish now.”

Whew. He hadn’t died.

“Everyone goes to him for advice. He’s half a hundred years old, has much gray in his beard, and is considered to be quite the wise old man.”

Old at fifty? I mean, half a hundred.

“Oh, I do like this game, Emily!” Beth said. “I know all the answers. Ask me more questions!”

“So Meg is married already?”

“Silly Emily—of course not! She’s getting married tomorrow, which is why we are all here today, to help prepare the house.
Marmee has been so busy of late with Meg and all her preparations, she has barely had time to do anything else!”

“And how about Meg—is she happy with this house?”

“You know Meg. When she saw what a fine home Ned Moffat made for Sallie Gardiner after their wedding, she was a trifle jealous. But then she remembered how much John loves her and how hard he worked to make this charming little home for her, and then everything was all right again.”

Ned and Sallie had gotten married? Had I been at the wedding? If I had, I hoped I hadn’t made a fool of myself!

“And what about Jo?” I said, my attention turning to my old nemesis. “What’s she been up to?”

“She never went back to Aunt March after my … illness. Aunt March decided she preferred Amy. She even hired a special art teacher to give Amy drawing lessons so that Amy might be persuaded to stay. So Jo continues in her reading and her writing for
The Eagle
—did you know they pay her a dollar a column now? Of course you did, silly Emily—and she is also working on a book. In between all that, she takes care of me. As you can see, I am the same as I have always been.”

I did see that.

“I’ve got another question for the game,” I said. “I haven’t seen Laurie. What’s he been doing?”

“Oh, good—another question I know the answer to! Why, Laurie has been at college, but he still comes to visit us every week and sometimes he even brings his college friends. Meg doesn’t pay attention to them, of course—she is too busy with planning her life with John—and of course I am too shy to even talk to them. But they like Jo, whom they seem to regard as another young man. Oh, and they
really
like Amy. In fact, some
have grown quite besotted with her. Amy, as you know, has a way with young men.”

Yes, I did know.

“Amy says that Meg should have servants for her house, like Sallie Moffat does, but Meg says she will be quite content with Lotty to run errands for her.”

Who was Lotty?

“Amy also teases Laurie when he visits about one Miss Randal.”

Who was Miss Randal? I didn’t remember any Miss
Randal
from the original book!

“I think you are up to date now,” Beth said, “except to tell you that Aunt March, after vowing not to give Meg a penny if she married John, developed a ruse whereby a friend of hers appeared to give Meg elaborate linens for her new home. But of course we all know who was behind it. Oh, and Aunt March is also giving Meg the pearls she promised to the first March bride.”

“How generous.”

“Yes, everyone is generous to a bride. That is why each of us has done so much to make this a home for Meg and John.”

“Each of us?” I echoed. “And what have I contributed?”

Beth’s face clouded over with puzzlement, but then it brightened at the sight of a tall guy, at least six feet, vaulting over the fence.

“Laurie!” she cried.

Wow. He looked even hotter than he had three years ago. “Beth.” He raised his hat at her, turned to me. “Emily. My, you’re looking even prettier than last time I saw you.”

I was? Involuntarily, I raised a hand to my hair. It was pinned up, but it felt thicker somehow, like it must be a lot longer.

“Everyone else in the house?” he asked. “Good, right,” he answered his own question. “I’ve got another present for Meg, so I’ll just head on in.”

“He’s still wonderful.” Beth sighed when he was gone. “Of course he always teases Jo. He says he predicts she’ll be the next to marry. And of course Jo always says that’s absurd, that she will never marry.”

She would say that.

Beth sighed again. “Are we finished with the game?” She rose with difficulty from the grass—she was still so frail. “I would like to rejoin the others now.”

“Just one more question,” I said, “and then the game is over. What have
I
been doing the past three years?”

Beth’s face clouded again, even worse than before.

“Oh no,” she said. “Finally, a question in the game I can’t answer. You know, it’s funny, but for some reason, right now I just don’t know.”

Twenty-Five

“Why don’t you do Meg’s hair, Emily?” Amy suggested. “I remember when you did mine years ago in le ponytail. If I hadn’t gotten into trouble that day in school, I am sure it would have turned into quite the rage.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “You’re all doing fine with those, um, braids.”

I didn’t want them to realize that le ponytail was the only hairstyle I knew. Besides, le ponytail just didn’t seem fitting for a wedding.

We were all gathered in the bedroom I still shared with Meg and Jo, helping the bride get ready for her big day. Meg had on a dress she’d sewn herself—she said she wanted the simplest of weddings, nothing like the fuss and bother Sallie and Ned had—and the rest of us were wearing silvery gray dresses with roses in our hair and bosoms. I felt kind of funny wearing
flowers in my bosom—I also felt funny calling it my bosom. As for the dresses, I gathered from what the others said that these were our best gowns for the summer, but I’d never seen them before.

It was still troubling me, the idea that three years had somehow passed, that I’d somehow leaped forward in time without having any memories of a single event that had occurred in that time period.

But there was no time to dwell on that now.

We had a wedding to get on with here.

Papa stood with his back to the fireplace, officiating over the wedding of Meg and John.

Meg had said she wanted simple and it was a small crowd, but everyone I knew was there: the immediate family, of course, plus Laurie, Mr. Laurence, Aunt March, Hannah, and Sallie and Ned Moffat. There was one couple I didn’t recognize. They were around Marmee and Papa’s age and I heard Jo greet them as Uncle and Aunt Carrol.

At one point during the ceremony Papa’s voice caught and it was a moment before he could go on. I realized then that he was emotional at the idea of his oldest daughter getting married and leaving the nest. Perhaps he was also thinking that soon all his girls would leave the nest?

As I watched Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy, noticing the changes of the past three years, I couldn’t help but think of Charlotte and Anne. Had they all forgotten about me? And if three more years had passed here, would three years have passed there too? If so, Charlotte would be in college now and Anne would practically
be out of high school. What were their lives like now? What were
they
like? Had either one ended up with Jackson?

Jackson.

It’d been so long since I thought about him. Funny. He’d seemed so important to me once. I wondered now why he ever had.

But I didn’t get to think any more about that just then because Papa was pronouncing Meg and John husband and wife—Meg was Mrs. John Brooke now!—and the party was about to begin.

I’d thought it promising earlier in the day, when I’d seen Papa pass through the room with a bottle of wine under each arm. After all, I was eighteen now. Wasn’t that legal to drink in some places? At least back in the 1800s? But where was the wine now? All I could see was tea, water, and lemonade.

Laurie also noticed the absence of alcoholic beverages, because he commented on it to Meg. Apparently both his grandfather and Aunt March had contributed bottles to the occasion. That’s when Meg informed Laurie that Papa was donating most of it to some soldiers’ aid society, keeping just a little of it for Beth. Papa only believed in wine for medicinal purposes. Hey, I had medicinal purposes here! I was almost sure of it.

“You know, Laurie,” Meg said, “you would do well yourself to give up alcohol.”

Laurie looked reluctant.

“In fact,” Meg said, “I would consider it a great present to me if you did so.”

I knew Laurie liked to go to the saloons. He always said it was so that he’d have people to play billiards with, but anyone
with any sense had to figure he drank there too. And I had
some
sense.

No, he didn’t look like he wanted to give
that
up. But Meg was the bride, after all, and this was her wedding day.

“I’m sure I’ll eventually be grateful to you for this, Mrs. Brooke,” he said at last. “Very well. I promise to never drink again.”

Wow, I hoped Meg didn’t ask
me
to give up anything today!

Hey, wait a second though. This whole thing that had just happened with Meg and Laurie about drinking: Was this the beginning of what would eventually turn into 12-step programs everywhere?

Whatever.

All I knew, as we saw Meg and John off on the short walk to their new life together at Dovecote, was that it had been a lovely day. Perhaps some people, like Sallie and Ned Moffat, needed to have a big wedding to feel their marriage was worthwhile. But Meg and John had proved that it wasn’t the money that made marriage worth it and the ceremony celebrating it wonderful. It was the love.

Oh, heck. I was beginning to sound like Marmee!