The Bridegrooms by Allison K. Pittman

Author:Allison K. Pittman [Pittman, Allison]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-60142-261-3
Publisher: The Crown Publishing Group
Published: 2010-11-23T16:00:00+00:00

Vada, unfamiliar with the lyrics, barely moved her lips, but Hazel joined in with lusty enthusiasm, offering a sorbet toast when she sang “Sisters,” forgetting for the moment that she was not supposed to have her refreshment at her seat.

When they were once again seated and attentive, the minutes from the previous meeting were read, and Vada spooned the icy peach treat into her mouth, grateful she hadn’t been hogtied and dragged here last week. The woman’s voice became a droning nuisance, incapable of diverting Vada’s attention the way she’d hoped.

She sloped further down in her seat, seeing nothing but the bunch of silk azaleas on the hat of the woman in front of her until the smattering of polite applause called her attention, and she sat up to see Mrs.

Cordelia Thomas—the widow Cordelia Thomas—making her way to the front of the room.

Vada leaned over and whispered, “What’s she doing?”

“Every week different women speak or give some little presentation.”

“What could she possibly have to say?”

Hazel shrugged and then twisted herself, seeking a comfortable position.

The last time Vada had seen Mrs. Thomas, the older lady had been chastising her unruly behavior, and now a whole room of women were going to be subjected to her insufferable arrogance.

“Well, I’m not listening to her.”

At this point, the bundle of azaleas disappeared from view as the woman in front of Vada turned around and scowled.

“Pardon me.” Vada smiled sweetly until the flowers reappeared.

“My fellow women of Terrington Heights,” Mrs. Thomas prattled in her overly cultured voice, “I am both pleased and honored that you would select me to be the bearer of feminine truth this lovely morning.”

“‘Bearer of feminine truth,’” Vada said, mocking. “And just what exactly is that supposed to be?”

The azaleas twitched again.

“I find it intolerable,” Mrs. Thomas continued, “as should you all, that this day and age, when women are on the cusp of being seen as the political, social, and economic equal of men, so many of our young sisters see no greater fulfillment in their life other than marriage.”

Vada nearly choked on a delicious chunk of fruit-flavored ice, even as the azaleas in front of her bobbed in approval.

“Did you hear that?” she hissed once her throat was cleared.

“Every now and then we get one of these,” Hazel replied. “Last week it was all about equal wages for equal work. You just never know—”

“Shhh!”

It was impossible to tell just where the hushing originated, and Vada responded by staring straight ahead.

“They seek nothing more,” Mrs. Thomas intoned, “than to hitch their lives to one of the very same sex who would seek to keep us mired in subservient silence.”

“Hear, hear,” the ladies chirped from their chairs.

“Oh, for the love of—” Vada twisted in her chair, turning to face Hazel head on. “We cannot possibly sit and listen to this. Of all the hypocritical—”

“Will you please be quiet?” The azaleas now hovered above, and half a dozen from the row in front of them were also turned around. Reactions rippled through the room, punctuated by the pounding of the gavel.

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