Swamps and Soirees: A Summerbrook Novel by Vicki Wilkerson

Author:Vicki Wilkerson [Wilkerson, Vicki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Filigree Press
Published: 2017-06-11T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Jasmine and Justification

Hanna came out of the servants’ quarters and looked down at all the yellow that covered her body. The uniform reflected an unflattering hue to her skin. Maybe she could feign being ill and run out the front door. She did look jaundiced in all the yellow. But worst of all, the color reminded her of her family’s tainted past—all the things that were dingy, discolored and not discussed.

She walked into the kitchen and saw that everyone was in yellow servants’ attire and that the food was ready.

Callie checked her watch. “It’s six-fifty. Guests will be here in ten minutes. This night will change my life.”

It had already changed Hanna’s. For the worse.

Furman walked through the doors. He stopped and just stared at Hanna. “You look very nice.”

There had to be more to his sentence. But what? In your service outfit? Even though you look like big bird? She knew she looked awful in the color. He had to have noticed. Right?

But before he could say another word, a scream belted through the air. They all dashed out the door toward the noise.

Hanna stopped Aunt Della. “You stay here and stir the sauce on the stove. We’ll handle this.”

Hanna ran to join the others. It was Evelynn Laurens. In the dining room. With one hand on her stomach and one covering her mouth.

“Do you know what this is?” Mrs. Laurens’s voice was strained.

Hanna peered from behind Furman.

Callie asked, “What?”

The elegantly dressed woman pointed to the candelabras. “That.”

“Yellow candles or the silver?” Callie shook her head.

“That’s poison sumac!” said Mrs. Laurens.

Hanna closed her eyes.

“Are you some kind of idiot?” asked Mrs. Laurens.

Hanna opened her eyes. Her fault completely. Though Aunt Della knew a little more about plants than she, Hanna hadn’t taken into account Aunt Della’s processing problems and propensity for malapropisms that she’d developed after she’d been deprived of oxygen for so long after her accident.

With the flourish of her hand, Mrs. Laurens said, “I simply asked for smilax! Instead, I get poison sumac. On my dining room table on the night of my Jasmine Society dinner!” Mrs. Laurens put her hand on her chest. “That couldn’t have been growing in my yard.”

Furman took a step forward. “Remember, Mother, you have cancelled Oday from doing the lawn three out of the last five weeks because you were in the hospital with Father and couldn’t oversee his work. Oday couldn’t possibly keep up with everything that needed to be done.”

Callie grabbed a pencil from her pocket and started detangling the greenery from the silver holders. “We’ll take it all off. When the guests arrive, just usher them into the parlor. Aunt Della, Myra and Jarvis will serve them appetizers and drinks there. We’ll have this cleaned up in a minute.”

“How impossible! And then there won’t be anything on the candelabras.” Evelynn Laurens looked at the ceiling.

Hanna peered from behind Furman. “I’ll climb that magnolia tree and get some leaves.”

“No you won’t,” Furman said. “I’ll go with you. We’ll find something else—together.

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